You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me (51 page)

‘They’re
disgusting,
’ she choked out.

‘They’re your battle scars,’ Max said, and he wasn’t even looking at her disfigured, mottled belly but up at her face, at the eyes she’d widened so she wouldn’t start crying. ‘You’ve been through something hard and painful, and it’s made you the girl who’s standing in front of me right now.’

‘Less fat …’

‘Well, there’s that but you’re also a fighter and you never forget what it feels like to be on the outside and yeah, you are a bit fucked up, Neevy, but so am I.’ He stopped and let his hands drop, so she was standing there of her own accord. ‘Why can’t you have a little faith in me?’

And when he put it like that, there didn’t seem to be any good reason to keep hiding herself. Neve’s fingers had never felt so ungainly as she undid the last two buttons on her blouse and then shrugged her arms free and let it fall to the floor. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Max and he was looking her right in the eye, not challenging or daring her, but with a kind of desperation as if he was worried that he’d pushed her too far, too fast.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I’m not going anywhere either,’ as she reached behind to unfasten her bra and then took that off too. She didn’t think her breasts were so bad now that they’d shrunk and she’d worked enough on her pecs that they didn’t droop down towards her belly. But when they weren’t encased in underwire and elastane they could hardly be described as perky or buoyant, and they swung merrily, happy to be free as Neve reached down to unbutton and unzip her jeans.

She worked her jeans down her legs, then kicked them off so she was just standing there in her knickers.
Yesterday
, she told herself sternly,
you almost got naked in front of six complete strangers and Max isn’t a stranger
. He’d got inside her head and his hands and mouth had touched the place that she was still shielding from him. And really now that he’d seen breasts, belly and thighs, she really wasn’t that concerned about him seeing her pussy, especially as she’d suffered great agonies having a bikini wax the day before.

‘Look at me,’ Max said softly, and Neve realised that her eyes had drifted down to stare blindly at the red polish on her toenails. ‘You’re almost there, Neve. Come on, get your knickers off, sweetheart.’

She’d been expecting another heartfelt speech, not ‘get your knickers off’, and she never thought that she’d be laughing as she skinned out of her black lace panties.

And then Neve was naked, in front of a member of the opposite sex. In front of Max. She held her arms out wide so he could see everything and he wasn’t looking at her face any more; his eyes were travelling down the body that she’d tried so hard to conceal from him.

‘So this is me,’ Neve said when she couldn’t bear the silence any more. ‘I did warn you, and we can pretend that you didn’t just say all those things if you want to head for the door or ask me to put my clothes back on.’

Max rolled his eyes so hard that Neve could have sworn his pupils completely disappeared. ‘Sometimes I really want to smack you,’ he snapped, and before she could point out that there was absolutely nothing funny about domestic violence, Max’s hands settled on her hips again. ‘Rather kiss you though,’ he said, and he was falling backwards on to the bed, and tugging Neve so she landed on top of him with a startled shriek.

He kissed the scream right out of her month, as Neve was struggling to lever herself off him, because she was too heavy and she was naked and he wasn’t and the whole thing felt utterly ridiculous.

Neve wasn’t sure when her struggling turned into squirming and writhing. It might have been at the moment that she started to kiss Max back and he rolled them over. That was better. Much, much better because she could fist her hands into his hair and grind her clit against his thigh, the rough denim of his jeans a source of irritation and delight.

‘Take your clothes off,’ she demanded, when they came up for air. She hardly recognised her own voice; it was so breathy and bordering on manic. ‘How do you want me to get you off?’

Max sat back to pull off his T-shirt and Neve wanted to cry when he moved off her altogether so he could wriggle out of his jeans. But then he was coming down on top of her and they were skin to skin for the first time; all that hot flesh sliding against each other.

‘This feels so good,’ she gasped, as her breasts shimmied against his chest and she parted her legs so Max could settle between them, gritting his teeth as he realised how ready she was. ‘Max? What do you want?’

‘I had my turn,’ he said, and he hadn’t, not really. Because he’d said that the forfeit was to get the other one off and the sight of her naked body certainly hadn’t done that. ‘What do
you
want? Fingers or tongue or both?’

Neve wasn’t in a position to argue any further because he already had two fingers inside her and was rubbing against that spot that made her clench around him and feel as if all good reason was dribbling out of her ears. ‘Make me come,’ she barked, when he eased off a little and she was capable of rational thought again. ‘I don’t care how, just do it.’

He made her come with his fingers and his tongue, and she was still coming when his hands were biting into her hips to try and keep her still as she arched against his mouth, until in the end Neve was kicking him away, almost off the bed, because she’d never come as hard as that before.

It was as if the orgasm had made something short-circuit in the over-developed part of her brain that dealt with inhibition, because Neve didn’t care that she was naked. She coaxed Max into her arms so she could kiss his jaw, which had felt the full brunt of her flailing legs – his cock wouldn’t be hard and wet against her inner thigh if he found her that repulsive.

Neve could taste herself on Max’s lips as she kissed him; sleepy slow kisses that felt as if she was moving underwater. But then Max cupped her breast and pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger, which made his cock twitch and a fresh wave of arousal pierce her languor.

‘I think I should put you out of your agony,’ she murmured, wrapping her hand around his cock. ‘What was it you said? Fingers or mouth, or both?’

‘Do you know what it does to me, when you say things like that?’ Max groaned and Neve simply smiled because she could see
exactly
what it was doing to him, could feel it beneath her fingertips.

‘Well, what’s it to be?’

‘Do you want to try something new?’ Max asked, prising away her hand, one sticky finger at a time. ‘But we can only do it for a little bit.’

‘Do your worst,’ Neve said, because as long as this new thing ended with her eyes rolling back in her head and her heart pounding furiously, she was up for anything that Max had in mind.

What Max had in mind was torment, pure and simple. He fitted himself between Neve’s legs again and very carefully, very slowly brushed her clit with the head of his cock again and again.

Then she’d move, because how could she not? And then Max would stop, head thrown back, face set in a grimace and say, ‘You have to stay absolutely still, Neevy, because I swear, I will lose it in a minute.’

Neve wanted him to lose it. She wanted it more than anything else in the world, and when he started moving again, always just a few slippery centimetres from where she really needed him, Neve canted her hips and the tip of his cock slipped inside her for a blissful moment that was enough to have her riding out one very tiny, very unsatisfying orgasm.

Max lunged back and she didn’t know how he could control himself, when she was one breath away from pinning him to the mattress and riding him to the finish line. She struggled up on her elbows and pushed her tangled hair back from her eyes.

‘You owe me for that last bloody game of Scrabble,’ she panted. ‘No questions, no arguments, no faffing.’ Later she’d be impressed at her verbatim recall under extreme conditions, but not then. ‘I want you to make love to me.’

‘We are making love, there doesn’t have to be pene—’

‘Don’t you dare use semantics on me,’ Neve argued. ‘Or come up with any more lame excuses. This is not payback for making me get naked and it’s not because I feel sorry for you and it’s not because of
him
, it’s because I will die if you don’t. Just once before this is over, I need you inside me.’

‘You said, right from the beginning, that you couldn’t—’

‘Wouldn’t!’

‘OK, that you wouldn’t have sex. That was your one rule because … because …’ Max would have sounded much more convincing if he could even remember why Neve had instigated her no-sex ban and if he wasn’t fisting his cock and staring at Neve’s pussy.

She spread her thighs a little wider. ‘OK, look, if I’m giving up a rule, then you can pick a new rule to make up for it. That’s fair, isn’t it?’

‘Well, no, not really. What if you change your …’

‘I don’t care about that stupid rule any more. Pick. Something. Else.’ It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order.

And given the sexual tension that permeated the air like dry ice and the way both of them were breathing heavily, Neve was more than a little surprised when Max gave her a sly, calculated smile. Like he was still capable of not just rational thought, but sneaky, devious thoughts too.

‘You have to promise you’ll respect my new rule ’cause it’s completely non-negotiable,’ he drawled, dipping his head down to give her nipple one hard suck, then retreating before Neve had time to cup the back of his head and keep his mouth busy.

‘I promise!’ He was going to insist that they held hands; she knew and she didn’t care.

‘I don’t want to hear another self-deprecating word come out of your mouth ever again,’ he said flatly, as Neve gave a surprised grunt. ‘I’m tired of listening to it.’

At any other time, that would have been Neve’s cue to let loose a whole stream of self-deprecating words, but Max’s hand was between her legs making all those nerve-endings sing again and so she just sighed, ‘Fine, whatever. Now, come here,’ and she pulled him down on top of her.

There was five frantic minutes of grinding and groping, though it wasn’t like either of them needed any more fore-play, and when Max went to the bathroom to get a condom, Neve went with him, plastered against his back, her hand wrapped round his dick again, because she couldn’t bear not to touch him.

Even the sound of the foil ripping cranked up the heat and when Max was sheathed, Neve was done waiting. She launched herself at him, ending up in his lap, legs splayed on either side of his, and paused with his cock nestled against her clit and Max’s lips pared back in a snarl, because payback was a bitch.

Then she lowered herself carefully so just the tip of Max’s cock was inside her and this was where it usually went horribly wrong, but this time it felt so good, and carefully Neve sank down, until he was all the way inside her. Then she stopped.

Max lifted his hips and Neve’s eyes snapped open. ‘Don’t move,’ she said breathlessly.

He froze. ‘Oh God, am I hurting you?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Just … I don’t want to rush this.’

Neve breathed in and out slowly and it was the oddest, strangest sensation but she could feel herself fluttering around his cock, as if her body wasn’t bothered about taking stock of the solemnity of this occasion but was going on ahead without her.

‘You’re killing me,’ Max groaned, his head resting against her shoulder.

‘Poor baby.’ Neve stroked the back of his neck, then grabbed a handful of his hair as she lifted herself up and then ground back down, because she couldn’t help herself. ‘You can move. Please. Now.’

‘Bloody backseat driver,’ Max muttered, his hands cushioning Neve’s buttocks as he put her on her back. ‘Wrap your legs round me. Tighter than that.’

Neve had always had this vague idea that sex was a spiritual experience that evoked waves crashing on sandy shores and flowers slowly unfurling their petals, but the actual reality was so much more visceral than that.

It was as if each one of her five senses had been designed specifically for sex. She tasted salt in her mouth as she bit Max’s shoulder when she told him to go faster and he began to thrust harder and deeper than he had before. And she could hear the headboard of the bed banging against the wall in time with the beat of her heart. Then there was the smell of sex – musky and ripe – and she could see the little beads of sweat on Max’s forehead and the sheen across his chest as she looked up at him – Neve knew that she should shut her eyes but she didn’t want to miss a thing. But mostly there was touch; their slick bodies moving greedily against each other and his cock rubbing against that spot deep inside her that his fingers knew so well, and then Max told her to touch herself because he was close and Neve wormed her hand between them and she could feel where they were joined, but only for a moment because her fingers wanted to press and rub and then she had to close her eyes because she was coming in white-hot bursts of heat and light and her last conscious thought was that everything that she thought she knew was wrong.

*

Then it was later, much later. They’d showered together, even though Neve had had an inhibition relapse but Max had clamped a hand over her mouth when she tried to tell him that. They’d remade the bed because the duvet had been thrown on the floor and someone had pulled the sheet off the bed. And Neve had slipped into her red silk nightie because Rome wasn’t built in a day and she couldn’t simply sprawl lazily on the bed stark naked now that all her urges had been thoroughly sated.