61. Darcy

Ihave no earthly idea what to expect when I show up at Max's flat. I've second-guessed my decision to let Dex go over there alone so many times over the past forty-eight hours. I'm the buffer: Dex feels more comfortable around me, and Max feels compelled to act like some vaguely civilised creature and not a total fucking beast when I'm around.

I hope I haven't done the wrong thing by letting him wander into the lion's den.

What I'm categorically not expecting is to get up to Max's floor and find Dex lolling against the door frame with damp hair, wearing nothing but a pair of red athletic shorts that I suspect aren't his and a smile so wide it could split his face in two.

‘Hi, gorgeous,' he says, hooking an arm around my waist and tugging me against his bare chest, which is frankly an excellent way to be greeted. ‘You look fucking ravishing.'

‘Who are you and what have you done with Dex?' I demand, planting my palms on his shoulders and dropping a kiss on his lips. ‘What the fuck did you two get up to—are you drunk?'

‘Not on booze,' he replies with a cheeky wink, releasing me and ushering me inside.

‘He's drunk on dick,' Max calls from the living area, and I giggle.

‘Nice. Started without me, did you?'

‘And then some,' Dex mutters over his shoulder, and I marvel at his personality transformation.

‘You jealous?' Max asks, climbing off his barstool as I enter the kitchen area and coming towards me. He's wearing similar shorts to Dex's, only in navy.

Matchy-matchy.

Cute.

‘Nah. If you've got each other out of your systems, you can make it all about me now,' I say, eyeing him up appreciatively. Honestly, what a welcome. Two hot as hell, half-naked gods waiting for me. A girl could get used to this.

‘Exactly right,' Max says with a grin before stooping to give me a very thorough, very X-rated kiss. He tastes of red wine and smells of shower gel and, I dunno, pheromones, probably.

‘You wore that dress I love,' Dex says when we come up for air, pouring out a glass of red for me.

I give him a little shoulder shimmy. I'm wearing the black halter-neck dress from the night we met, and I'm tickled he noticed. ‘I did indeed. You told me you liked my boobs in it, so I thought you could take it off me later.'

‘You look very fuckable," Max adds with a downright lascivious smirk, and I bask in his affection like a cat in the afternoon sun.

‘Just the look I was going for.' I reach over and swipe my finger through what looks like moutabel or babaganoush—I never know the difference. ‘Fuck me, this is amazing. Did you make it?'

‘I thought you were going to eat before you came over,' he says.

‘I did. And your point is?'

He laughs. ‘Told you Little Miss Leftovers would be all over it,' he says to Dex. To me he adds, ‘Dex was worried about not getting through all the food.'

‘Never fear, Darcy's here,' I say cheerily, pulling the bowl of aubergine towards me and nabbing a wedge of pita to better shovel up this smoky, gloopy goodness. ‘Now, tell me everything. I want a blow-by-blow account.'

‘Actually,' Max leans over and hooks a couple of fingers over the rim of the bowl, watching my face as he does, ‘I wouldn't eat too much more if I were you. You won't want a full stomach for what we've got planned for you.'

His voice is careful, and gentle, and ominous as fuck. Nerves hit me with blunt, immediate force, turning the pita and aubergine to gluey mush in my mouth. I stare at him with wide, scared eyes as I chew.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I've known, and I suppose I hoped, this was coming, but I'm honestly not sure I'll ever be ready, and, more importantly, I'm not sure I'll ever believe it's anatomically possible to take these two. There's a massive difference in my head between the theory of being entangled with and filled up by them and actually, physically accommodating two very large dicks.

‘Both of you?' I croak through a mouthful of food, looking from Max to Dex and back again.

‘Only if you want to,' Dex says, brushing his lips over my bare shoulder as he slides my wineglass towards me. ‘Only if you're ready.'

I pick up my glass and gulp as I push the bowl of dip towards Max with my fingertips as if it's radioactive.