by Len Webster
“Because I want you to go.”
She went rigid in his arms. Then she pulled away and looked up at him as if he had wounded her. “What?”
“I don’t want you to go because it means you’re all the way in Germany and I’m here missing you. But I want you to go because I want you to have a chance to live a life without regret. I promised I’d make you happy, and I’m doing that by giving you my support. Go to Berlin, Josephine. Go and meet your sisters. Go and have a relationship with your father. Go and make me even more proud of you for trying like you said you would for your mother.”
“I want you to come with me,” she said with so much longing he almost blurted out yes. Gave in to his heart’s desire to always follow her.
But not this time.
He had earned Josephine Faulkner’s trust back, and Max was determined to keep it. To cherish it long after his last breath. Because her love was beauty, but her trust and belief in him was fulfilment and belonging.
Max closed the small distance as he reached out and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I can’t, Josephine. I’d follow you anywhere else, but not Germany.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as tears consumed her eyes. “Why?”
“Because you have to get to know your father. This is about you. If I’m there with you, I know there’s no chance of you being honest with him. In order for him to be the father he never was, he needs the daughter he neglected to give him a chance,” he reasoned with her.
“I-I,” she stuttered.
“Come on. I’ll help you pack.”
She nodded, allowing her tears to fall and land on his thumbs.
He had convinced the love of his life that being apart was for the better.
Some would say he was stupid with love.
But Max knew otherwise.
“According to Google, it’s going to be sixteen degrees when you land. So it’s gonna be sunny but also a bit cold,” Max said as he stepped out of her walk-in closet, holding the woollen jumpers he’d pulled from the hangers. When he reached her bed, he dropped her clothes on the mattress, picking up the grey knitted one to fold. “They defined it as nice weather.”
Then he placed the jumper into the suitcase he had pulled from under her bed. Josie stood at the foot of her bed and stared at the only shirt she had removed from her closet. Max picked up another one of her jumpers and glanced over to find silent tears running down her face. He dropped the jumper, rounded the bed, and stood in front of her. Then he grasped the T-shirt from her and threw it on the bed. Max cupped her cheeks and brushed her tears from her skin.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Josie’s bottom lip trembled as she glanced anywhere but his face.
“Hey, come on. Look at me.”
After what felt like an eternity, Josie finally swung her blue eyes to him. The agony in them almost had him throwing her suitcase from her bed and declaring that she could never leave without him. But instead, he held her face firmly in his palms and hoped the expression on his face and his attempts at a soft smile convinced her that this was right.
She let out a heavy sigh. “I feel like I’m leaving you,” she cried.
“You’re not.”
Josie shook her head. “I am. I’ll be in Berlin, Maxwell. You’ll be here. How are we going to work?” Her tears continued to roll down her face, hitting his thumbs. “I don’t want this to be over.”
Cracks.
All over his heart did they appear.
He loved this woman.
He was almost too selfish with her and almost considered going with her.
But he couldn’t.
Max exhaled, hoping it would relieve the pressure in his chest, and for one moment, it did. But then he looked Josie in the eye and that pressure intensified. “Do you still want me to be your boyfriend, Josephine?”
She nodded. “I do. But most relationships don’t start with someone going to Germany without a return date.”
“Well,” he began to say. “Ours does. We can make this work. I can be the boyfriend you need me to be if you trust me and go. I’ll be here when you want to come home, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. So this is us committing to a relationship? I get to be your boyfriend?”
To his surprise, she let out a soft laugh. “Yes. God, a million times yes.”
“So as my girlfriend,” he said with a smile, “you have to promise me that you’ll always reply to my emails when I send them to you. It doesn’t have to be right away, but I just want to read your words.”
“I promise. But you have to promise we’ll Skype or FaceTime as much as possible. I don’t want distance to ruin us,” she confessed.
“It won’t. I promise we’ll Skype whenever you’re free.” Max dipped his head and sealed his promise with a chaste kiss. “I love you, Josephine. Today at the service, your strength made me so proud of you.”
That smile she had faded as reality sunk in for her. She blinked free her tears as she inhaled deeply. “I really buried my mother today, didn’t I?”
Max nodded.
“And we really had sex?”
He nodded again, but this time guilt swept through his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have given in. She wasn’t in the right state of mind.
Josie wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “Hey, I don’t regret it, okay? I wanted us to make love. Don’t feel the guilt I see in your eyes, Maxwell. Don’t.”
He believed her. “Okay.”
Her thumb swept against his wrist. “I want this to work between us. I’d be devastated if Germany is what broke us … considering …”
“I know,” he agreed. “I won’t let anything break us ever again. Come on. I’ll help you pack, and then I’ll cook us dinner.”
Max dropped his hands from Josie’s face and turned to face her somewhat empty suitcase and pile of clothes. It was daunting to know that he was helping his girlfriend pack.
He instantly stilled.
Girlfriend.
Josephine Faulkner was his girlfriend.
And he only had less than twenty-four hours left with her.
Last night, it had taken them almost three hours to pack. It was a losing battle for Max watching her fight against her decision to leave him and stay with him. But each time she would break down and remove her clothes from her suitcase, Max would help her repack and talk her back to common sense. She had to go and sort out a part of her life that she had always wanted. Max wasn’t going to hinder her. As her boyfriend, he wouldn’t. As the friend he was before, he would never be the barrier to block her from her desires and wants. When she had finally packed and Max locked her suitcase, he removed it from her bed and wheeled it out into the hallway.
As he cooked them dinner, she called Stella to tell her the news. He could hear Josie apologising as she cried, promising Stella that she would come home to her soon. And he heard her promise that tomorrow’s goodbye would not be their last. When she returned, he set the table, and they ate dinner in silence. The tension was thick and the air between them seemed to be so thin. When Josie finished eating, he cleared the table and she showered while he did the dishes. She asked him to stay with her, and he agreed. There was no way he could spend the last remaining hours of their time together away from her. He had to seize what time they had together and whisper how much he loved her. Assure her that she had someone worthy of coming home to.
Then she finally fell asleep in their loud silence.
For Max, sleep came and went. He woke up throughout the night searching for her to make sure she hadn’t left him without saying goodbye. But he relaxed when he found her asleep next to him. He would roll onto his side, kiss her forehead, and close his eyes. Now, the sun had risen, and Josie was snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his chest and his arm around her.
Her index finger made little circles on his naked chest as she let out a sigh. “Is this how we’re going to spend our last hours together?”
Max
glanced down at her just as she tilted her chin up to look at him. “Is there anything you want to do before I take you to the airport?”
Her fingers now flattened against his chest, and she sat herself up. Josie glanced down at him as her messy brunette hair fell over her chest. She was so beautiful. So natural and unaware. The love in her eyes was his. So was that pain that glittered in them.
“No,” she said in a small voice.
Then Max sat himself up and leant against the upholstered headboard. Josie threw a leg over his lap and straddled him.
“I want to be here with you,” she added as she reached down and pulled her long T-shirt that she had worn to bed over her head and threw it on the floor. Her breasts were perfect as he palmed them, his thumbs tracing her rosy nipples into peaks. She let out a whimper as she sank down against the erection under his boxer briefs.
He let out a soft groan as he slid his palms down the flat of her stomach to the waistband of her simple black underwear. He traced the material as Josie pressed her hands to his shoulders and lifted herself up, giving him the opportunity and space to reach out and peel the underwear from her hips and down to her knees. It was a bit of a challenge, but she managed to get herself up and remove her underwear before she helped remove his.
Josie curled a hand around the back of his head and used the other to steady his jaw as she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Each kiss felt like an I love you punching him in the chest as he kissed her back with the same softness. He reached between them and held his hard length in line with her entrance.
There was no foreplay.
They didn’t need it.
Josie looked him in the eye as she lowered herself on him, taking him inch by inch until she was completely full and seated on his thighs.
She was so tight, so hot, so wet.
She was perfection and then some. Max watched her close her eyes as her lips parted with a moan. Her arms looped around his neck as she leant forward and pressed her breasts against him. He stared at her in wonder and awe as she opened her eyes.
“I want to be right here with you,” she whispered as she slowly raised her hips.
The pleasure she left as she rocked her hips up and down had him groaning.
This was so much more than any other time they had made love.
This was them at their most intense.
Max grasped her hips and guided her back down on him slowly.
Slow.
Their movements were slow.
Their kisses even slower.
The build to pleasure was slow.
He was slowly making love to his girlfriend so that she didn’t forget him while she was away. So that she could think of him and this moment. When he loved her with his whole heart.
“I love you,” he panted.
A soft moan escaped her. “I love you, too.”
His hips now snapped up to meet her.
Adding to the pleasure.
Adding to the intensity.
“I love you so much, Maxwell,” she said, burying her face into his shoulder and rocking harder. Moaning louder. Digging her nails into his neck a little deeper. “I love you…” She sighed. “I love you.”
She’d given in and conceded defeat as Max had taken over and pumped into her.
Again and again.
Harder.
Longer thrusts to leave their impressions.
To serve as a reminder that he was the only one who could love her most. Understand her like no other.
She moaned.
He groaned.
Somewhere, he had managed to whisper his love and promise of forever as she gasped. She was so close. He felt it as she tightened around him. Seconds later, she finally orgasmed, his name falling from her lips like a beautiful chant.
He had made several more thrusts before he joined her, coming inside her, groaning that she had ruined him forever with her pure love for him.
Slow.
Their lovemaking had slowed.
Slow, slow, slow.
It was powerful.
It was as if she had discovered something new and liberating with Max. But to her disappointment, she had discovered it too late. There weren’t enough hours with him. But they had made the most of their last day together. He had made her breakfast and gone down on her on the kitchen floor, the cold tiles biting into her skin as he made her see explosions of stars in the best way possible. Then she led him back to her room and had him make love to her on her bed with him on top.
After they had gotten their breaths back, they went into the shower and turned it on until it filled with steam from the hot water. He pressed her to the glass as he entered her from behind. She had to be on her tippy-toes to make it work, but the angle was so much better than anything else she had experienced. The cold glass and Max’s hot, hard chest against her back made everything more sensual and erotic. He made her come twice before he reached climax. Max had pulled her away from the glass wall and brought her under the shower spray and washed her.
As much as she loved having Max bring her pleasure and vice versa, she loved the gentle way he lathered her hair with shampoo before he rinsed it out. Loved the way his soapy hands roamed over the swell of her breasts, her stomach, and her mound as he caressed her skin. It was intimate as he washed her. When she reached for the bar of soap, Max kissed her as the shower continued to soak them. She felt him hard against her stomach and forgot about her desire to wash him. Instead, she wanted to please him the way he pleased her. Josie wrapped her hand around his erection and stroked him as he deepened the kiss. He groaned when she pulled away from his lips and slowly got on her knees and took him in her mouth. She’d never been with someone as large as Max, and it was tricky to find a rhythm of strokes. But in the end, she sucked and licked and pumped until she felt him throb, grow even harder, and then reach his orgasm in her mouth. When he softened and she pulled away, Max brought her back to her feet and kissed her long after the water had turned cold.
That morning of love and pleasure was perfect.
But it seemed to pop as soon as he turned off the water and told her they had to get dressed. Since Max was taking care of her since her mother had passed away, he kept clean clothes in her drawers. She didn’t remember exactly which day it was, but she remembered him bringing over a bag and leaving it in the corner of her room. She had gotten out of bed and brought the gym bag to her closet. Clearing a drawer, she had set his clothes inside. That was what she was coming home to. Him and a drawer full of his clothes in her apartment. She had him promise not to remove them while she was gone as he dressed after their long shower. Max buttoned his jeans and then rolled the navy coloured shirt down his chest. He walked over to Josie, kissed her, and promised to add more clothes to the drawer for when she came back.
“Did you have a return ticket, Ms Faulkner?” the check-in lady asked, pulling Josie out from her beautiful memories of this morning. She felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment for thinking of her and Max rather than focusing on checking in for her flight.
“Umm … no,” she finally said.
The woman behind the counter glanced at her, and Josie noticed her lip twitch. Josie had a last-minute one-way ticket to Germany. It didn’t look very good. “Do you have your passport?”
Josie nodded and handed it over. She watched as the woman’s eyes widened as she took in the red passport, no doubt taking in the words “Diplomatic Passport” on the cover and the diplomatic visa attached to the page after her photo.
“I apologise for the delay, Ms Faulkner. I’ll issue you your boarding pass right now. I had no idea you had a diplomatic passport. You are more than welcome to use the priority check-in next time … you do have diplomatic immunity.”
“Doesn’t mean I should use it,” Josie said.
It was true. Her father being the Australian Ambassador to Germany meant that she had diplomatic immunity. She just never told West when he had asked about it. Her father had done all the paperwork when
Josie said she wanted to go to Bali with Stella one year. Though she and Stella did not enjoy the secret police tracking their moves. Josie was sure no one knew she was an ambassador’s daughter, but the Australian and Indonesian governments weren’t taking any risks. So they were followed closely by a security team.
“Oh, right. Of course. Here you are, Ms Faulkner. You actually don’t have an economy seat. You’ve been upgraded and are in business class. I hope you have a pleasant flight to Berlin via Dubai and London. You don’t have to worry about your suitcase; it’s being sent straight through and will be in Berlin for you.” She smiled, but Josie knew it was just a formality, so she took the boarding passes from her, told her to have a good day, and walked away from the check-in counter.
“Everything okay?” Max asked once she reached him. He had been waiting by the counter and insisted that she line up without him, afraid he would stop her from checking in for her flight.
She nodded. “Last-minute one-way flights raise suspicion. But she saw my diplomatic passport and realised that I’m not just any last-minute passenger. Then she proceeded to remind me that I have diplomatic immunity and that my father booked me a business seat rather than the economy seat I asked for.”
Max took her carry-on wheelie suitcase from her. “He’s just looking out for you. It’s a long flight. You don’t want to be stuck in economy. It’s fourteen hours to Dubai,” he reminded.
“I know. I’ll appreciate it more once I’m in my seat and realise that I can sleep.”
“So you have diplomatic immunity?” Max queried as he spun around, and they began to walk towards the café where Stella and West would meet her.
“Mmmhmm … I do.”
“That’s impressive.”
She let out a small laugh. “Not really. It been a waste since I’ve had it. I haven’t committed any crimes.”
Max halted his steps, grasped her arm, and stopped her. She turned and faced him, her fingers digging into her passport.
“Before we meet Stella and West, I just wanted to say that I wish you did have a return ticket. I wish you had a date, so I could count down the days until I see you again. But I know you can’t put a date on how long you need to get to know your dad, your stepmother, and your sisters. I’m kind of glad you don’t have one in a way because it doesn’t pressure you to come home quickly. I just feel like I’m losing, you know. I’m finally your boyfriend, and it’s only been sixteen hours, and now you’re leaving. It just doesn’t feel fair because I want you more than they do, Josephine. I’m sure of it. I want you more than them.”