An Ounce of Hope(86)

Never had she seen anything as beautiful as Max when, the second time they'd had sex, she'd ridden him on her couch, her back to his chest, his breath hot on her neck, and his hands firm on her ass, shouting out his curses and coming hard with her. She loved the feel of him, so strong and solid, the way his face creased when he came, and the sound of her name on his lips as he pulsed inside her. 

Knowing that she could do for him what he did for her filled her with a profound happiness. Seeing him sated and drowsy, that lopsided smile and those dark, playful eyes focused on her as they moved together, filled her with something more, however, something heavy and hopeful.

As Max would say, she was well and truly fucked, and spending a few days away from him and from the desire that accosted her every time they were in the same room seemed like a wise idea. She couldn't risk Max sensing the way she was starting to feel about him. Was already feeling about him. Jesus, at the mere mention of his having kids in the future he'd paled and run from her. God alone knew what he'd do if he realized she was falling for him. Grace wanted him in her life too much-regardless of the capacity-to jeopardize what they had together. His friendship had become too important, too integral to her day-to-day life.

The quiet times they spent together were as precious as the sexy times. Just yesterday, after she'd watched him come all over her stomach while she lay on the pale green rug in her living room, they'd lain side by side, talking about art, music, and more about her family.

Max, in turn, spoke of his own parents. As she listened, Grace lost herself in his voice and the way his arm brushed against hers when he moved. They'd ordered pizza and sat together, half-naked as they ate it, so comfortable with each other that Grace hadn't even bothered to cover up her scars. There was no point. Besides, the way he looked at her naked body made Grace forget about everything else anyway. Never had she felt so desired, wanted, so beautiful as when Max's gaze was on her.

That had only been twenty-four hours ago and already she'd started to miss him.

"It's fantastic that you're so comfortable with Max," Nina, Grace's therapist, mused the following afternoon. "It really is; you've embraced intimacy again and it's lovely to see you moving forward, taking control back, but these feelings you have . . . they may be detrimental to you both."

This Grace knew. Max was a fragile creature, an addict, he was vulnerable and skittish, but there was no way she was going to stop sleeping with him just because she couldn't keep her emotions in check. She would do it. For him, she could do it.

"Grace, these steps you're taking are excellent, it's great news."

"But?"

"But you need to be clear on what it is you're feeling." Nina shifted in her seat. "Tell me, when he walked out after you had sex the first time, how did you feel?"

Grace shrugged, tracing the lip of the coffee cup in her hand with her finger. She thought back to that amazing afternoon. Max's words and his longing for her so clear in his large Hershey's Kiss eyes. His hard body, his skin on her tongue, the way he knew that, without her even saying, she had to be on top so she didn't freak out. The sounds he made, and the crushing need she'd had to smash her lips to his and taste and own every groan and gasp.

"I knew he needed to leave," she answered, her face heating with the memories. "He was very clear on what our relationship would be when we agreed to this. I can't expect hugs and kisses afterward."

"That's what you wanted?"

Not exactly. It had been a very long time since she'd experienced cuddles after sex, so she wasn't expecting it now. Grace would have liked Max to have stayed a little while longer, of course, because seeing him rush out the door, although expected, had been hard. Not that she'd ever tell him. No, instead, the following day, she'd woken Max at the boardinghouse with coffee and a muffin and dragged him out on their run. Normal routine was important for both of them. It was pretty clear that Grace wasn't the only one of them who had the potential to freak out.




 

 

"Grace," Nina said softly. "Getting close to Max, being his friend is one thing. Having a sexual relationship and allowing yourself to feel more is something else entirely. My question is, are you really ready and, just as important, is Max?"

Grace sighed, not having an answer. "You're saying I shouldn't allow myself to feel something for him?"

"No, Grace," Nina said, her blue eyes careful behind her red spectacles. "I'm saying I want you to remember that you're both brittle creatures who've been through a lot of trauma. To remember that it isn't your job to fix everyone and not everyone wants fixing. I'm saying I want you to prepare yourself for what may happen here."