Chapter 19 - Hell Hath No Fury...

This was a bad idea.

In fact, Emma was pretty sure the phrase 'bad idea' had been written all over her from the moment she had walked out her door. She saw it in every step she had taken during the 20 minute walk, every turned corner of the barely lit darkened streets, and definitely in the familiar apartment building she had just entered.

She had officially gone insane. No, more like pathetic. Could she not go through a day without needing to see him? She had become completely desperate.

It didn't stop her from lifting her hand to knock on his door and officially turning this into a bad decision.

The door suddenly opened and she was left hanging with her hand up in the air.

"Emma," Max breathed.

"How did you..."

Before she could finish that sentence, he pulled her into his apartment and had her leaning back against the door as he locked it.

"I was going crazy. I thought about going over there a million times. Are you okay? Is he back?"

"No, he's not. I just...I couldn't sleep and I already cleaned the entire apartment three times and didn't know what else to do. I'm so tired, Max," she said feeling ashamed.

He suddenly smiled and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Before she knew what he was doing, he carried her to his room and sat her down on the edge of his bed, crouching down in between her legs.

He ran his thumb under her eyes, staring at her intently. "You should sleep then. You've come to the right place."

She nodded, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that. "Just for tonight," she said. "Until I talk to him."

He nodded too, understanding the meaning behind what she was telling him. He silently reached for her grey hoodie, slowly unzipping it and tugging it off her shoulders, before tossing it aside.

She felt her heartbeat spike, and tried to keep her breathing normal. It was a simple gesture so far, but she immediately knew where this was headed. She remembered the same engrossed look from the last time he had done this at the hotel.

He studied her reaction for a moment and then his eyes dropped down her body, as if deciding what should go next. He eventually reached for her sneakers, untying them and pulling them off her feet, followed by her socks.

"Do you need a shirt?" he asked quietly.

She slowly shook her head. She was wearing a racerback top and could easily sleep in it, even if it didn't cover her entirely. Conventions were obviously long gone between them.

He then reached for her yoga pants, taking his time to run his hands through the material. "I love these," he said before sliding them down her hips. "But I love your incredible legs even more." He ran his hands down her calves, caressing them for a moment, and she delighted in the feel.

She should hate how familiar this all felt, hate that he knew her wardrobe so well, hate how he knew how she liked to sleep, hate his words, his touch. But the truth was that she loved it. She loved how careful he was with her, how attentive. How he took his time to underdress her, as if he was worshiping every moment. He made her feel cherished like never before.

Max pulled the covers back and motioned for her to get in. He quickly undressed, pulling off his t-shirt and lounge pants, before settling in next to her. He turned off the lights and lied down on his back.

When he didn't turn over to hold her, she felt oddly dejected. Wasn't that part of the routine? She didn't dare say anything and tried to get comfortable but couldn't. After 15 minutes of turning and him being stiff in one place, she just had to know. It would drive her crazy all night.

"Don't you want to..." she trailed off, not sure how to even explain it without it sounding weird or wrong.

He sighed. "I can't, Em."

"What do you mean?"

"There's only so much I can take. You're wearing those sexy little boy shorts and it's making me insane."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

He let out a deep breath. "You shouldn't have to apologize. It's just...I can't touch you now that... without wanting to..." he swallowed, staring up at the ceiling. "Just go to sleep, Em. You need to rest," he whispered.

"Okay. Goodnight, Max," she said turning on her side.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

His words tossed around in her head and she was sure she wouldn't be able to go sleep now. She could hear his light breathing behind her, but he never once moved, not even an inch. If he had the willpower to stay away, then so could she, even if she yearned to fall asleep in his arms. Still, she felt so comfortable simply lying near him, knowing he was right there next to her. It was how she had felt the other nights with him too, and had never slept better than with him by her side. She sighed and closed her eyes, thankful for even that bit of intimacy.

To her amazement, she woke up the next morning with her head firmly on his chest. Her arm was wrapped around his waist and her leg was hitched in between his. Oh god. Had she done that? She must have gravitated towards him sometime in the middle of the night. That had to be embarrassing.

She looked up and was surprised to see that he was wide awake, looking pensively at her and lost in thought. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he said kissing her temple. She noticed then that his fingers were soothing out strands of her hair against the pillow. Maybe that's what had woken her up without even realizing it.

"No, it's okay. I feel very rested. What time is it anyway?"

"A little after 8am," he responded. Looking at her woefully, he asked, "How much...time do you have?"

"I don't know. I should probably leave in about an hour."

"Okay," he whispered, but suddenly his hazel eyes turned full of sorrow and he looked away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I'm fine."

"Max. Please tell me."

He brought an arm over his face, covering his eyes. He shook his head in frustration.

She quickly leaned over him, peeling his arm away. His eyes were tightly shut. "Talk to me, Max. Don't shut me out."

He sighed and slowly opened his eyes, revealing unshed tears in them. He reached for a lock of her hair that was falling on his chest and brushed it over and over through his fingers, as if trying to regain his composure. "I don't know how to let you go," he said. "God, I never thought it would be this difficult."

Her heart broke for him in that instant. "Oh, Max," she breathed. She reached out for him, but he turned away from her.

"Don't," he said quickly sitting up on the edge of the bed with his back to her. He dropped his head, covering it in his hands on his knees.

How could she not? She ran a hand down his back and he trembled. "Don't, Emma," he repeated. "Please, don't."

She couldn't listen to those words laced with such pain. She desperately needed to take it away. She needed him. It was an automatic reaction, without a sliver of second thought. She got out of bed, circling around him and threw herself in his lap. It caught him so off guard, he didn't have time to stop what she was about to do.

She pushed herself against his chest and brought his mouth down to hers. She kissed him fiercely and with abandon, forgetting everything else at the moment.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this. We shouldn't do this. It's wrong," he whispered painfully.

No, that just couldn't be true, given everything she was feeling right now. It was such a powerful all-consuming emotion she knew it had to be real. She continued kissing him as he remained motionless, licking and biting his bottom lip. She soon moved to his throat, nipping and tucking all the way to his ear and back. "Then why does it feel so right?" she whispered back. When she reached his mouth again, she found it open and brushed her tongue against his. She soon heard a deep groan, followed by a 'fuck', before he grabbed her face and assaulted her mouth.

He kissed her hard, passionately, as if he was taking his last breath. It seemed like he had just been called out of a sleeper cell, suddenly springing into action and leaving everything that had been dormant behind.

He pressed her body tightly against his, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist so she was straddling him. With only her boy shorts and his boxers between them, she felt him so hard pressing right where she needed it the most.

She moved against him, wanting to feel more of him and gasped, instantly getting turned on. God, he felt so big.

"Emma," he groaned. He licked her neck, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from her. "Yes, baby," he whispered, rocking her slowly against him.

His hands trailed up her sides and brought her shirt over her head. He blew out a heavy breath, his fingers caressing her ribs and then moving straight upwards. He palmed her breasts over her bra, and she was so glad she had decided to wear a soft lace. Her nipples puckered against the thin layer of his touch and he was soon reaching down and kissing the swell right above them. "So beautiful," he growled.

"Max, please," she said, suddenly wanting nothing else but to feel his tongue on her in that same exact spot.

Instead, his lips went back up her body, kissing her clavicle and throat in veneration. "Stay with me," he whispered. "I want to make you mine."

"Oh god," she let out, feeling the pressure building between her legs. Yes, she wanted to be his. There was no doubt about that. She wanted it so badly.

He took her mouth again, as if wanting to coax the answer out of her. "Please, baby. Tell me that you want this as much as I do," he said in between kisses.

She felt a wave a heat come over her. "Yes, I want to be yours," she finally breathed. "I'm so close, Max."

A rumble of appreciation emitted through his chest and he pulled her harder against him, if that was even possible. His fingers kneaded the back of her neck, lightly fisting locks of her hair. "Let go, baby. I want to watch you come apart for me," he said hoarsely.

It hit her then with shocking force, her entire body burning with fire, and she jerked in his lap. Max held her gaze while she rode it out, his eyes ecstatic and blazing with desire.

When she started coming down from the high, she couldn't believe she had just gotten off like that and felt the embarrassment creeping in. Max, however, seemed to have other ideas. He ran his thumb over her swollen lips and then caressed her cheek, which was most likely a deep shade of red. His expression was completely smug and gratified.

"That's my girl," he said in utter satisfaction, pulling her close. He bit on her earlobe and whispered, "Mine. Only mine."

He flipped her back to the bed with renewed determination, his hands running down her stomach and all the way to her legs. He brought her to her side, caressing her back and shoulders and trailing his fingers in circles around her ass and tracing her panty line.

She thought she was going to combust on the spot again if he kept touching her like that. Never in her life had she felt so turned on by someone and exponentially craved more. It was as if her body had been starving for him this entire time.

She brought her hands to his chest, relishing the defined planes of muscles that were so easy to touch. She idly remembered how much she wanted to get her hands on him like this the first moment they met. Her fingers dipped to his stomach, which automatically flinched when she started to explore even lower.

Max caught her hand and brought it back up to his chest. "Not yet, sweetheart," he grinned widely.

"I want to touch you," she complained, pouting her lip.

He quickly sucked on it, beaming. "You're so hot and demanding. I love it."

She was about to complain again when he lowered his body on hers. "I've wanted you for so long, Emma. Let me make you feel good. You can do whatever you want with me afterwards, I promise."

He began pressing raptured kisses all over her body. By the time he was making putty out of her stomach, his nose trailing besides her belly button, she was a quivering mess. Why did he insist on teasing her so much? "Max, I need you," she begged.

He hummed against her skin and soon felt him tug against her bra, finally unhooking it and stripping her bare. He took a moment to look at her, mumbling, "So perfect," before dipping his head and kissing her all over her breasts.

She cried out and was so caught up in the sensations of what his perfect mouth was doing, that she barely registered when he pulled her panties off. She should have at least felt the cooler air against her sensitive skin. It was only until she felt a finger graze against her that she realized the enormity of what was about to happen and unexpectedly recoiled beneath him.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, breathing hard all of a sudden.

His hand instantly moved back up towards her waist, gripping against her hip. She looked into his eyes and instead of seeing any resemblance of the desire she had seen in him moments ago, all she could see was unadulterated fear and panic. Why had she cowered away from him? Had she scared him away?

"Max?" she breathed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

He shut his eyes and shook his head. "No, it's not that. I'm sorry, Emma. I can't do this. Not like this," he spoke very quickly. He practically jumped off the bed, grabbing his pants from the floor and slamming the door behind him as he made his way out of the room.

To her complete confusion and horror, she realized he left her naked and panting. What the hell had just happened? Cold chills ran through her body when she finally came to. A wave of utter rejection overcame her and she quickly scrambled to put her clothes back on. She had just offered herself to him and this is how he repaid her?

She had never felt so ashamed and humiliated in her entire life. Like a scorned woman. Suddenly she choked up and couldn't breathe.

After sloppily tying up her sneakers and throwing on her hoodie, she tried smoothing down her hair and willed the tortuous aftershocks coursing through her body to stop. She shakily opened the door to the bedroom and made a beeline towards the front door. It wasn't until she started unlocking it that she noticed Max was sitting on the couch with his head between his legs.

He looked up as soon as he heard the click of the lock. "No, Emma. Wait," he said sprinting towards her in alarm.

Ignoring him, she pulled the door open, but it stopped against the deadbolt she forgot to unleash in her rush to get the hell out of there. Fuck.

The door slammed closed before she had a chance to fix it. "Emma. Stop. We need to talk about this," Max said, positioning himself in front of the doorway.

"There's nothing to fucking talk about. Now let me go!" she said infuriated.

"Emma, hear me out. I had to stop that, okay? I shouldn't have done that to you. It wasn't right," he said full of remorse and regret.

"You're rejecting me after...after...you asked me to stay? I thought you wanted this!"

"I'm not rejecting you, Em. I want you. I want you so fucking much...even more after that," he shook, pointing to the room.

She sighed, still not believing him.

"You really think I would have been able to take you home afterwards? I want it to be about us when that happens," Max continued.

"It was about us," she contradicted. Every touch, every kiss had been about them. Had he not felt that? "After everything we've gone through, everything we said and shared?"

"No, it wasn't. It's not when you still haven't spoken to him. You still live with him, Em!"

"So what?" she yelled.

"So what? How does this end? I get to fuck you and then send you back to him so he can have his turn?"

She slapped him across the face, appalled beyond reason he would say that. "Is that what you think of me, you asshole! You think I would do that?"

He ran a hand down his face and looked at her somewhat apologetically. "What do you want me to think? You're his girlfriend, he obviously still wants you. He's going to want to touch you."

"So, all of a sudden I don't have a say in this? I'm supposed to roll over and do whatever he wants? What about what I want? Did you ever think about that?"

"Em, I didn't mean it like that. We all know how he is...how dangerous he can be."

"I can't believe you would think I would just up and run back to him. I gave myself to you! Do you think that was easy for me? Does that not mean anything to you?!"

"Of course it does. It means everything to me. You know that," he said angrily.

"You're always going to think that, aren't you? Think the worst of me. Resent me for this in some way," she said, coming to the realization and completely ignoring what he just said. "No matter what happens, you're going to think that I'm going to either run off or do the same thing I did with you, but with another guy."

Max scoffed at her, his eyes hollow. "No, I won't think that. You're getting way ahead of yourself and putting words in my mouth. I trust you."

"Really, you trust me. After what you just said? Unbelievable. This is why it'll never work between us. God, I was so stupid to think it would."

Something seemed to snap inside of him. "No. You want to know why this will never work? Because you're still fucking with him!" he yelled at her, enunciating every word. "What do you think this is, a hotel? You think you can come and go whenever you feel like it? I'm not some lapdog you can play around with when you're bored. Relationships don't work that way, Emma."

"Don't you get it? I was ready to leave everything for you! And I know how relationships work, Max. You don't need to remind me," she said crossing her arms.

He sighed, reaching for her. "Em, you know I want to be with you. I just want this to be right," he said cupping her cheek.

She pulled away from him, unable to handle the affection.

He froze and stepped back again. "Look, all I know is that you need to make a fucking decision for once. It's either him or me. I can't handle this state of fucking limbo anymore. So what's it gonna be, sweetheart?"

She shook her head, hating how he had just used the endearing term for her so condescendingly. "How can you be so dense? I had chosen you, you idiot! But you know what? I obviously need to rethink my decision."

He looked at her in exasperation and moved to the side of the door, signaling she was now free to go. "Call me once you've decided then. I don't have time for this bullshit anymore," he said coldly.

She opened the door and stepped over the threshold, unbelieving his drastic change in demeanor. He was acting like a different person, like he no longer cared about her.

He was acting like Roy. Her heart constricted in her chest at the thought.

"Why don't I just tell you right now...to avoid any further delays since this is such an inconvenience for you," she seethed. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare her next words without faltering. "This is over, I should have ended this a long time ago. Don't contact me again, Max."

His eyes widened in desolation, but then narrowed just as quickly. "Don't flatter yourself, Emma. Believe me, I won't."

She took a step back as he reached for the door, gripping it roughly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head as if changing his mind. "Good luck with the meathead. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful life together," he gritted through his teeth.

And then the door slammed in her face.