"What did you and my dad talk about?"

He was rubbing my forearm. "Mostly football. He wanted to know who I had in the Super Bowl."

"Shut up."

Max smiled. "No. Really, it was a good talk. He told me he wasn't happy with you being here, but he knew you were going to do what you wanted."

"I wish he'd admit that to my face."

"Yeah," Max said, "well, take what you can get. He asked me where I was from, things like that. I think he liked the fact that I'm a Midwesterner."

I rolled my eyes. "He can be kind of territorial like that."

"Did you tell them about leaving the agency?"

I shook my head.

"Didn't think so," he said. "Because your dad looked kind of surprised when I told him you were going to be my a.s.sistant and editor."

My eyebrows shot up my head. "Editor?"

"Well, yeah. First reader, gatekeeper. Honest with me when I write something s.h.i.tty."

I just smiled. This was going to be so good.

"He also asked what my intentions were with you."

I laughed and covered my mouth.

"Not like that that," he said. "But don't you think for a second that it ever leaves my mind."

"Even when I'm looking like this? Like s.h.i.t?"

He shook his head. "You're always gorgeous."

"So do I get to go home with you?"

"That's another thing he wanted to know. If I'd look after you. I told him yes, and not just until you're healed."

My emotions were over the top. There was no controlling them. I needed to tell him how I felt. I needed to see the look on his face when I told him. And I needed to do it before he went through with the promises he'd made to my father.

"I love you."

Those three words. Three powerful words. The three words I needed to say to him. But they hadn't come out of my mouth. They came out of his. Suddenly. Without warning. Right at the time I was going to say that to him. Once again, it was like he could read my mind.

"Come closer and kiss me," I said.

Max leaned over and placed his lips gently on mine.

Through our kiss I said a somewhat m.u.f.fled, "I love you. I love you. I've loved you for a while now."

We heard the door handle click and Max pulled away.

FIFTEEN

Two weeks later, on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon, I woke from a nap to the sound of my phone ringing. It was my parents checking in. They had called every day for the last two weeks.

Conversations with my parents had changed for the better. No arguing. No bickering. No ha.s.sling me over my life choices. They even talked to Max a couple of times. Short conversations, and from what I could hear on his end, they were mostly trying to get him to confirm the progress I was making health-wise.

I wasn't one-hundred percent healed, but I was feeling much better. The pain-killers played a big part in that, too.

When I talked to Grace, she asked about Krystal.

"She's been in rehab for two weeks. I haven't gone to visit her and she's not allowed to have her own phone, but she called a couple of days ago and sounded really good."

"I heard her parents are there."

"Yeah, she said that. They were trying to get her transferred but she's not covered by insurance, so she's staying here."

Grade said, "Max paid for it all?"

"Yeah."

"You better not let him get away."

Max had laid down with me, but he was no longer in the bed. I thought maybe he'd gone for a run.

I made my way from his bedroom-our bedroom, now that I was living with him permanently-down the stairs and into the large, open den. The view outside was gorgeous. A bright, clear day in Los Angeles. A rare event, to say the least. bedroom, now that I was living with him permanently-down the stairs and into the large, open den. The view outside was gorgeous. A bright, clear day in Los Angeles. A rare event, to say the least.

Max was sitting in a large leather chair with his feet up on an ottoman. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand, and a blue editing pen in the other. His laptop was on the coffee table. I stood there at the foot of the stairs for a few minutes, watching the man I love engrossed in the work he loved so much.

He did a double-take when he noticed me standing there.

"How long have you been there?" he said.

"Just a couple of minutes."

"Well, come here."

I walked over to him. He put the script aside and held out his arms, lowering me onto his lap.

Both of us were still in our nap-wear. He wore just a pair of cotton workout shorts. I had on a t-shirt and panties.

Max kissed my check. "How are you feeling?"

"You mean since the last time you asked me two hours ago?"

He kissed my neck, and I felt him getting hard beneath my thigh. Max had been strict about my recovery, not letting me do anything strenuous, which included s.e.x. So we'd been on a two-week run of celibacy. It kind of amazed me that we pulled it off.

"In fact," I continued as he kept nuzzling my neck, "you've asked me every couple of hours for two weeks."

"I'm just playing doctor."

I moaned. "Now, that sounds like fun." And then something occurred to me. "Are you asking purely for medical reasons, or are you just waiting for me to say I'm feeling well enough for you to make love to me?"

"Am I that transparent?"

I laughed.

He said, "Both, actually. You got me."

I turned my head to face him, and pressed my lips to his. We had kissed during the two weeks, but this was different. Deeper. Pa.s.sionate. Wanting. Needing.

"Switch places with me," he said.

He remembered I had said that, for whatever reason, I felt better and more comfortable when I was sitting up.

He lifted me gently and stood, then placed me back down on the chair. He tugged on my panties, and I wiggled as best I could to help him get them down my legs.

"I've missed this, Liv," he said, lowering his head between my legs and licking me. I was already wet from sitting on his lap and feeling his erection growing under me.

I looked down and watched him caressing my cleft with his tongue. "I've missed it, too."

Max wasn't in the mood to put this off any longer. He brought his head up, and stayed kneeling on the floor. I was sitting on the edge of the chair-we were lined up perfectly for what both of us had been longing for.

Max pulled down the front of his shorts, exposing his beautiful c.o.c.k. I reached down, needing to touch him. He was fully hard, and warm, and I could almost swear I felt his pulse in the veins of his length.

He pushed forward a little, and I guided him to me.

"I'll go slow," he said.

"Do whatever you want."

"Maybe later, when you're really ready. But I admire your enthusiasm."

"Max?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah."

"Stop talking."

He pushed the head of his c.o.c.k into me. But only that far. He moved his hips back and forth, sliding into me a little more each time. Shallow, slow thrusts.

What had been two weeks felt more like two years without him inside me.

I put my hand on his chest. He had a hand on each of my hips.

Max leaned forward and our lips met. My tongue darted into his mouth, and he sucked on it, the way that turned me on so much. Then I took his tongue between my lips, turning my head from side to side as my mouth slid back and forth on his tongue as if I were giving him a b.l.o.w.j.o.b.

Our eyes were open the whole time. Locked in a deep stare. It didn't even seem like we were blinking.

When I freed his tongue, he said, "I almost forgot how tight you are."

"It's been too long."

"Much too long."

Max looked down and my gaze followed his. Together we watched him disappear inside me. He was deep now, almost too deep-but only because it made my breath hitch and little stabs of dull pain shot through my healing bones.

I winced.

Max stopped. "You okay?"

"Don't stop. Don't stop."

Max pushed in again-not deep strokes, and not as fast as he'd started doing it just before the pain...slow, even thrusts.

"I'm gonna come," he said.

"Do it."

"Come with me, Liv."

I started to climax, feeling the surge building quickly. It had been so long. Too long for Max, too. I felt the hot, thick spurts flooding me, and it made his slow thrusts even slicker.

He held my hips tight. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face into his shoulder, biting him gently as I came with him.

EPILOGUE

It's been two years since that happened.

I ended up not having to testify in Chris's trial. He took a plea bargain and got a nineteen year sentence. I'd always liked his parents and they'd always liked me, but there was still something strange about receiving a letter from them, apologizing for their son's actions. They didn't have my address, but they'd given it to Grace and she'd sent it to me.

The last I heard, Kevin's agency died a slow death. After shooting Max's last movie, Jacqueline Mathers moved to another agency. Word got out that Kevin got drunk one night and tried to pressure her into s.e.x, so he was pretty much finished. I have no idea what he's doing now.