Page 82 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

There was a tension notching up through the room, as they both knew the time had probably come to take the next step – but who was going to make the first move?

She spotted a few last Prosecco glasses they’d missed on the counter. She picked them up as if to head to the kitchen. Delaying tactics, you coward, her mind was heckling her, Bouncer had definitely left her head space. Oh jeez.

Max caught up with her in two steps, brushed the hair from the side of her neck and kissed her there, oh so tenderly, making all sorts of strange things happen to her insides.

She turned to face him, her back now against the counter. He pressed his body against hers as he kissed her once more, deep and sensual with tongues probing, twining. Oh my …

Sod the washing-up. She placed the glasses back down beside her and cupped the back of his head in her hands, where his hair was short, slightly spiky, firmly holding his face to hers as the kiss continued, intensely. They both knew where this was heading.

Max pulled back gently. His deep green eyes fixed on hers. ‘Are you okay? You sure about this?’

‘Yes,’ her voice squeaked. Bloody hell, why was she so damned nervous? She was a thirty-six-year-old woman, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t as though she’d never done this before. ‘Ah … it’s just I haven’t had sex in four years,’ she blurted out.

‘Four years?’

‘Yep.’

‘Well, no wonder you’re nervous. And hey, no pressure on me then … Better make it worthwhile.’ He gave her a gorgeous, cheeky grin, and took her back into a hug.

It might just be all right. Hopefully, much more than all right. In fact, she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be about to have sex with, to be honest, and that included Ryan Gosling and Gerard Butler.

Go girl! A new voice took over in her mind. It was feisty and sexy and she hadn’t heard it in a very long time.

She took his hand and led him upstairs, heading initially for the living room (she felt slightly anxious about leading him straight off to bed), where she gently told him to sit down.

‘You have a thing about sofas, don’t you?’ he smiled. A smile that was warm through to his eyes – his very sexy eyes.

She moved to position herself on his lap, so very close. Took his face in her hands again and began kissing him extremely slowly, yearning growing between them. She felt this huge, rather scary, overwhelming feeling of love for him. Oh my, could this really be love again? He had made her laugh, smile, had wiped her tears, held her hand – he’d even stood in for the carpenter, despite being so busy himself, to make her chocolate shop café come true, dammit – and now this, this last beautiful hurdle.

They were both fully clothed, but couldn’t be much closer. She could feel the heat from his jeans, the firmness there beneath her. She was obviously doing something right, even though she was a little out of practice.

She gave a long, slow sigh. ‘I think we should take this to the bedroom.’

Alfie, who’d followed them through and was sitting beneath the sofa, raised an eyelid, and then slid his head back down to the floor.

Emma took Max’s hand and led the way, excited and slightly anxious all at once.

She was with this gorgeous man in her double room. And there was Luke looking at her from the dressing table. Oh, no, she hadn’t thought to move his photo. But that would have seemed wrong too. No, she mustn’t think of him now. But how could she not, he was still such a huge part of her life? But she knew if she didn’t give herself to Max, she’d never give herself to anyone again. He’s gone, Emma. It’s okay, a voice in her mind spoke out. A silent tear welled in her eye. She blinked quickly, turned to face Max, and buried herself in his kisses.

Max was tender and caring, taking things slowly, yet not too slowly, kissing her shoulders as he slipped her blouse over her head, tracing her body with confident, caring hands. She kissed him back, touched him, tracing the hard, muscular lines of his body so different from Luke’s leaner form, his body, so wonderfully new to her.

Then there was nothing but skin on skin, and their slow, rhythmic dance of love. Every nerve ending tingled, delighted, so alive. He plunged deep within her, still kissing her. Oh, my!

And they moved together, until she came in a warm, beautiful pulse around him.

They clung to each other.

‘Wow,’ Max whispered, still above her.

Then from nowhere tears formed, Emma struggled to keep them back.

‘Em, are you okay? Did I hurt you?’ Max scanned her tearful face.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as he gently moved to lie beside her.

‘I’m okay,’ but she couldn’t hide the sniffling from her voice. ‘Really, I’m okay. Sorry.’

He held her to him for a few tender moments. She could feel the mass of balled-up emotions within her unravelling.