Unperfect Page 22
“Stubborn,” he muttered, pulling back a little to smile down at me. Max’s smiles close up were so magnetic, made his face so blindingly handsome, that I almost felt light headed. I blinked up at him for a couple of stunned seconds before going up on my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his. My body was on some sort of automatic pilot, driven by a Max-smile-induced hysteria. I felt as though I would die if I didn’t kiss him right now, if I couldn’t be closer to him. His face jerked a little in shock under my hands after my lips brushed his for the first time. He took a moment to study my expression before he dipped his head down and then he was kissing me.
One of his hands went to my waist and the other into my hair at the back of my head. My mouth opened under his and a low sound vibrated through his chest before he slid his hand up the back of my shirt to the skin of my back. The contact sent a shiver up my spine and suddenly I couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. A side of myself that I thought was lost forever surged to the fore. I needed this man. I was tired of waiting for him, tired of him treating me like I would break. I gave a small hop and wrapped my legs around his waist so that our mouths were more on a level. He pulled back a little to read my expression, concern cutting through the desire on his face. His pupils were so dilated that there was only a small rim of green around the outside and his jaw was clenched tight.
“Mia–”
I put my fingers to his mouth to cut off his words. “Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” I said softly. “Don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I know what I want. Let me have my autonomy back.”
His too-intelligent eyes glittered down at me and another low almost-growl came from deep inside his chest. Then he started moving. His long strides ate up the distance between the front door and the stairs, which he jogged with me still wrapped around his middle. The extra weight didn’t seem to bother him at all. I knew I was still too skinny, but I’d been working on my arse with regular chocolate consumption, so jogging up the stairs as if I weighed less than a feather was nothing to be sniffed at. He shouldered open a door at the top and then we were in Max’s bedroom.
Everything was white apart from the wooden frame of the bed and the industrial light fittings hanging from the ceiling. It smelt of washing powder with the subtle undertone of Max’s aftershave. Now that we were in the bedroom Max’s pace slowed. He walked to the bed and lowered me down onto the pristine white sheets, hovering over me, but not letting me take his full weight. A small furrow formed between his brows. I could see his mind whirring behind his eyes. He took a breath, and I knew he was going to ask again if I was okay.
I could understand his concern – I’d had panic attacks with him a few times now – but I just didn’t want to hear it, not like this. I didn’t want the reminder that I wasn’t quite normal. So instead of letting him speak I leaned up from the bed and closed my mouth over his, one of my hands going to the back of his neck and the other up, around and under his t-shirt to feel the tensed muscles of his back under the smooth skin.
He made another low sound in the back of his throat and gave me more of his weight, and, rather than feeling trapped, I revelled in it. I felt like it was somehow grounding me in the present – similar to the tapping but on a much larger scale. I could feel him hard against me, and my heart rate picked up, not with anxiety for once, but with a fierce, almost feral need that was burning through me. I rocked against him and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. He pulled back a little so that he could yank up my shirt over my head in one swift movement and throw it to the side. He froze above me then, his eyes trailing over my torso. My underwear was the most expensive set of clothing I owned. When I left Nate, I only had nice underwear to take so I grabbed a load. It was the only trapping of my former life I’d kept hold of. And as Max’s eyes fixated on my intricate white lace bra and two slashes of colour appeared high on his cheekbones, I was very glad that I hadn’t chucked that as well.
“My God,” he breathed, one on his hands coming up to my neck, shaking slightly as it traced its way down to the skin below my collarbone until finally closing over my breast. “You’re so beautiful.”
My back arched and I pushed into his hand. A needy sound fell from my lips. It was like my body had taken complete control of the situation. Cautious, worried, scared Mia was no longer in charge. Desperate, hungry, Max-crazed Mia had taken her place and was pushing to get what she wanted. His chest was all hard planes of tanned skin with a dusting of hair across it down to his defined abs. Nate had taken care of his body, but he had nothing like the bulky musculature of Max. I swallowed as my fingers traced over his shoulder and down to the hair of his chest before skating the ridges of his abdomen to his belt buckle. One of his hands went down to cover mine at his belt and he stilled their attempts at removing it. That look was back on his face again as he searched mine. The questioning, concerned look that that was warring with the absolute raw need I could feel in the tension of his body, and see in the way his jaw muscles were ticking as he gritted his teeth.
“Please,” I whispered and he closed his eyes as the red on his cheekbones heightened. One of my hands came back up to rest flat over his heart. I could feel it hammering in his chest. His desire for me was like a tangible, thick presence in the room, boosting my confidence and hardening my resolve. “I need you, Max.”
As soon as they left my mouth those whispered words seemed to snap something in him. He fell forwards into me and kissed me more deeply and with renewed desperation. As he was kissing me his hands ran down my chest and then over my stomach to my jeans. He made quick work of the button fly and then finally he was where I needed him to be. I let out a muted scream as I moved with him. With him hovering over me and his skin against mine I started soaring. But I didn’t want to go there alone.
“No, Max,” I whispered and instantly he stilled, ready to pull back. “No, I mean, not without you. Please.”
He groaned and kissed me again, this time working his way down my neck to my breast as he pulled off my jeans and then his trousers before reaching for a condom in the bedside table. Once we were both naked and he was pressing against me he hesitated again. Both his hands came up and pushed my hair away from my face.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispered in my ear. This beautiful, strong man was shaking with need above me, but he had held himself back to check again that I was right here with him. That this was what I wanted to. I felt my eyes fill but I blinked the tears back as I nodded. Max must have seen the wet because he froze. Then I moved, arching against him. He let out a low growl and surged forward, and finally I was filled with Max. The overriding feeling was overwhelming relief, as if not connecting in this way with him had been causing a previously unacknowledged physical pain. And then the desperation set in, the acute need for more. I moved under him again, feeling the tightness of the muscles of his back as he held himself still. His jaw was clenched and he looked almost in pain.
“Are you okay?” he asked me and I almost burst out laughing.
“No, Max,” I said and he tensed even further. “I won’t be okay until you move.” He groaned as his mouth fell on mine and finally, finally he was moving inside me. I could feel the tension build low down in my stomach. We climbed together until his rhythm became erratic and desperate as he became impossibly harder. When I crested the wave and burst into a thousand pieces Max kept on moving, wrenching aftershocks from my body until he finally followed me over the edge. When I could register my surroundings again, Max was lying on his back and he’d pulled me over onto his chest. He was stroking my hair and every few seconds he would kiss my forehead, my hairline, my eyes, sometimes my lips, reverently – like he almost couldn’t believe that I was there with him. I slipped an arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze. In response he pulled me even tighter into his side. I felt as if I were floating on a cloud, as if nothing could touch me.
For the first time in years, I felt safe.
Chapter 29
Getting somewhere
Max<
br />
“Her hair colour was different, lighter,” I said into the phone as I looked out of my office at Mia’s back. She was leaning over Yaz to help her with something on the computer but then had started laughing. Yaz could be a pain in the arse, but in that moment I had not one single regret about keeping her in the office. Anyone who could light up Mia’s face like that was worth their weight in gold.
Over the last month Mia had been laughing more. I don’t think I’d seen her crack even a small smile in the first few weeks I’d known her. The change had been gradual, but, compared to the woman she’d been back then, she was almost unrecognisable. She still wore barely any make-up, just a touch of mascara and occasional lip-gloss, but there were no longer dark circles under her eyes. The emo clothes had been replaced (I was not sad to see the back of her one and only pair of scuffed black shoes) by a lot of Yaz’s surfer stuff, but she had also bought some new items of her own. The rate limiting step of setting up a bank account had been resolved with HSBC, who had a scheme for people without permanent addresses. I offered for her to use my address but she’d flatly refused. In fact, after we slept together she informed me that she felt like she was taking advantage of me. Her taking advantage of me! As if I wasn’t wracked with guilt that it was the other way around. Once her bank account was set up she decided she should move out, but before she could look for somewhere to stay Yaz had offered her a spare room at her flat. Her friend Dee had moved out and she needed the money. I’d helped Mia move in last weekend.
To be honest I would have preferred to keep her at my house, but I knew that really would have been taking advantage and I didn’t want to stifle her growing confidence. She was coming to realise how important she was to the company, that she did have value to add in meetings, and that people respected her. Outside of work I could tell she still struggled to square away how people saw her and how she saw herself. It helped that Yaz and Verity were persistent friends. Beyond what Yaz shared after the hairdresser incident I wasn’t sure how much they knew, but I’d caught each of them looking at Mia in that careful way more than once – watchful, concerned. Yes, they knew a fair amount, maybe even more than me, but I didn’t want to betray Mia’s confidence to ascertain what. Because in the bid to win Mia’s trust, I knew I had to tred very carefully.
Physically, things were amazing between us. We couldn’t get enough of each other. She was like a fever in my veins – I wanted her constantly, thought about her incessantly. When I was with her I couldn’t stop touching her – holding her hand, resting my hand on the small of her back, pulling her into my side, kissing her temple, tucking her short, soft hair behind her pixie ears.
“It’s the same deal as your thumbs. How do these things even work?” I’d teased her last night after I’d nuzzled the shell of her tiny ear. “They’re ridiculous, Number Five.”
“Just cause I don’t sport giant elephant ears there’s no need to be a cheeky bugger. I can hear out of these bad boys just as well, if not better, than you can out of your oversized face flappers.”
“Right, that’s it,” I’d growled, moving on top of her in the bed and rubbing my ear against her mouth. “Lick the normal sized ear lobe and accept the superior hearing.” I’d tickled her until she given in and declared my hearing superior and my ears perfect, manly specimens.
The fact she felt confident enough to tease me, that there was no flicker of fear even when I’d held her down to tickle her, said something about how far she’d come. The sex that followed was completely uninhibited – wild and hard and totally out of both of our control. After I’d finished and realised that I hadn’t exhibited the normal restraint I used with her – my normal tenderness and caution, I had frozen with my head buried in her neck, waiting for her to stiffen with fear. But she’d been like liquid in my arms. When I’d pulled back to look at her face there was no trace of anxiety. Only a goofy half-smile and a soft, sated look in her eyes.
“Wow,” she’d breathed into my mouth. “You’re pretty good at that.”
I’d rested my forehead against hers and let out a long exhale, beyond relieved that I hadn’t pushed her too far and terrified her. From that moment it was clear to me that, in the bedroom at least, she trusted me. It was outside the bedroom where her walls were still up, hence my phone call to the private investigator. I was giving her time and space to let me into all her secrets, but I knew she was still scared. Still watchful. I justified the invasion into her privacy as a measure to secure her safety.
I’d researched domestic violence and emotional and physical abuse since Mia had revealed that glimpse into her past. I knew that an abusive person was at their most dangerous when they felt that their victim was slipping from their control, and Mia was most definitely not in that arsehole’s control any more. So yes, I could justify it with concern for her safety … but I also knew that wasn’t the only reason. The pure, unadulterated rage boiling inside me when I thought of someone hurting her was almost overwhelming. I needed to know who this bastard was and I needed him to pay for what he’d done to Mia. She said no police, and I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. Something else had happened. Something that made her ashamed – fearful of my reaction. Sometimes I could see indecision flicker over her features as she hesitated before speaking.
She was deciding whether to trust me with the whole truth.
But I knew it would be a while before she did. She was only just starting to trust me with small truths – her favourite takeaway for example. That information had taken Teddy and I over an hour to obtain. At first Teddy had just thrown his curry order at me from his position at the computer with Mia, who was helping him code for his latest school assignment. I’d told him he was a selfish brat and maybe he should check with Mia what she wants before he barked out his requests. Teddy had rolled his eyes, but when Mia jumped in saying she didn’t mind what we ordered – that we shouldn’t feel like we had to include her anyway, that she was probably imposing and should go back to Yaz’s, that Teddy probably needed his space etc etc – Teddy then stopped coding and narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth setting into a familiar, stubborn line.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he’d told her. “How can you be imposing when you’ve saved my arse with this computer bollocks? Max likes you here – he’s less of a grumpy bastard with you around. You should stay.” When she agreed to stay but insisted curry was “fine” it was like she’d laid down a personal challenge to Teddy. After much wheedling and the equivalent of the Spanish inquisition she’d finally admitted that Thai food was, in fact, her favourite.
So yes, she was getting there with the trust, but it was slow work and I needed results just that bit quicker.
“Her first name is Amelia,” I told the Sam Clifton, the boss of the security firm I’d hired to dig up Mia’s past. When I’d originally contacted him two weeks ago, he’d told me he didn’t have any space in their schedule for another case. That didn’t surprise me – he came highly recommended for a reason. But then I told him her story. Mr Clifton found space after that conversation. In fact, he took on the case himself. But without her real name he’d been getting nowhere. “I’m still not sure of her surname but I do know that her husband owns or is CEO of a large company. She worked for him and she’s something of a computer genius.”
“Right, noted,” Sam’s deep voice sounded in my ear. “On it.” He disconnected. I had noticed that with Sam he didn’t waste words unless completely necessary. I lowered the phone and watched as Mia rounded the desk, still laughing. She caught my eye as she sat down. Unlike before when she would duck her head and wipe any expression off her face when our gazes had met, now her smile actually grew, her eyes danced and a light blush spread to her cheeks.
Yes, I was getting somewhere.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Chapter 30
Such an interesting way to treat an aubergine
Max
“Hey there!” Roger’s ears picked up at Mia’s c
all from the front door and he shot off down the hall to find her. The dog was totally besotted. It might have been something to do with the copious amounts of bacon she fed him under the table when she thought I wasn’t watching, but at the moment Mia was his favourite human. I had even heard the beast give a low growl when Mia cuddled into me on the sofa, the furry, possessive maniac.
“Oh hey there, baby boy,” I heard Mia say in that ridiculous voice she reserved for my dog. You didn’t speak to Alsatians as if they were precious fluffy little fur babies. Rodger was forty kilos of killing machine, not a Maltese terrier. “How’s my gorgeous puppy. Yes, yes you’re a good boy. Yes you are.”
“Thanks and I know,” I told her as I watched her being licked and nuzzled on the floor of the corridor by a frantic Rodger. He’d only seen her yesterday for fuck’s sake. Where was his self-respect? And why was I letting a dog get in the way of my woman. If she should be nuzzling anyone it was me, dammit.
Mia rolled her eyes as she straightened from the ground.
“You don’t need any positive reinforcement,” she told me, leaning down to pick up two huge shopping bags packed to the brim with stuff. She hauled them up with difficult but only got a couple of steps before I whisked them out of her hands and put them back on the floor. I then stepped into her personal space, slipped her arms around her waist and kissed her, light and sweet on the lips. When I pulled back I saw she was wearing that dazed expression again. It was the way she looked at me whenever I gave her some unexpected affection, or when I listened to her opinions and ideas, or when I asked her what she wanted to do, what she wanted to eat. It was full of wonder – like I was a rare discovery that she never believed could exist before.