Page 17 of Washed Up
“Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been in stonking great boots. If he doesn’t wear socks with them, he’s officially weird.”
“I think he was barefoot just now.”
“And that’s why you’re gonna nail this. You see details.” He extends an arm towards me. “Come here, let me give you a hug.”
“What for?”
“Assurance? And because it’s hug ’o clock.”
“Is that an official time?” I glance at the digital clock display on the microwave expecting it to be spelling it out. It’s a little after midday.
“Definitely.”
Max swaddles me. Being held by him is like being wrapped in a weighted blanket—calming, reassuring. All the pressure points in my body sigh as they’re stimulated.
“How are your bruises doing?”
“Yellowing. The cream helped.”
He keeps the cuddle going.
“You give great hugs, Max.”
“So do you.” He kisses the top of my head, which prompts me to raise my chin to look up at him. Our gazes meet, and there’s something… a connection.
He lowers his head and kisses my lips.
Oh, God. Oh, fuck. I don’t want it to end, but I ought to stop him. I already kissed his band mate. Hell, I almost made it to third base with him. But damn, the tingles kissing this gentle hulk of a man creates are too big a thrill. He lifts me, and before I know it, I’m perched on the worktop, my legs wound around his hips and he’s rubbing against me, driving the seam of my borrowed jeans right against my clit in a way that creates fires that even icy water couldn’t put out.
“Max. I think you should know that I made out with Reid earlier.”
“I know that, Iris. He told us.”
He told them.
“It’s okay. It’s not a problem. We’ve all kissed the same girl before.”
I’m not sure what to do with that information. “You have. Doesn’t that cause—”
“We’re good at sharing.”
I believe that of Max. Can just about convince myself of Reid’s generosity, but Wynter? He seems the possessive type, who probably won’t even loan you a paperback, let alone contemplate allowing his bandmates to smooch a girl he was into. Not that he’s into me, just maybe no longer hates me.
Do they really not mind, or am I now at the centre of some sort of competition?
“Can I touch you, Iris?”
That yanks my focus back to the here and now.
“Well… Um…” His mouth is on mine again as he reaches for my fly, and while I’m sure I should stop him, I’m equally certain I absolutely shouldn’t. It’s only a day on from my close encounter with Reid, and I think I’d like to explore that chemistry further.
“Why have you all shared… kissed the same woman before?”
Max gives me a goofy grin, like I’ve asked something with such an obvious answer he’s flummoxed how to respond. “We all liked her.”
“Right, but…”
“It was on tour. She was part of the crew, and there’s not much time for external relationships when you’re moving about that much, so as we all liked her, and she liked all of us, we figured something out. Happens there was some experimenting too. Got to be a few perks of being a rock star, right?”
