Jenna woke in the middle of the night, her head spinning from the hang over already kicking in. She looked around and saw she was at Max's. She groaned to herself and let her head fall back onto the pillow. She knew this had been a bad idea from the second she saw all the pictures of her on his wall, but she had felt she owed him her gratitude, her thank you. But that turned into way more than she had expected. She had gotten drunk and then her inhibitions had taken off and she let passion and desire and her loneliness consume her.
She looked next to her and Max was asleep, his arm was resting on her waist. She turned her body slightly and grabbed his hand. She moved his arm back and he grumbled in his sleep. He pulled his arm into himself and readjusted. Jenna watched him, a dim light coming from the kitchen. She looked at his face, that face she knew so well, but really didn't.
She physically knew him, knew every detail of his body, and knew what he liked, what made him laugh, but she didn't know the truth about his past, or his family, or his life. She had no idea what he really had been in prison for, what it had been like for him or how it had affected him. It was so strange, looking at him, knowing where they were now. How had things gotten to such a weird place? Jenna knew what Max had been doing these past months was wrong. She knew she should have put a stop to it a long time ago, but she had gone along with it. Why?
Maybe because she had never felt this kind of love before from a man. But was it really even love? She knew he was capable of it, he had been good to her when they were together, and he had been sweet and loving and good. And when the truth came out he wasn't angry, he never yelled or hurt her, but he just wouldn't stop. That persistence should have scared her; should have made her concerned, but it really didn't. She felt no fear, no alarm for her well being. Maybe she was naïve or just ridiculously stupid, but she just couldn't bring herself to stop. She couldn't bring herself to put a real stop to all of this. Because deep down, she didn't want it to stop.
She watched Max's face in the light, his rough exterior softened while he slept. The lines in his face weren't stressed, but you couldn't see his dimples either. She loved those dimples. It made him look like the kindest teddy bear, especially when he was really happy. Jenna lightly traced his face with her forefinger, trailing down his cheek. She ran it through his beard and down to his chest, he was shirtless now and she admired his muscles. She traced over his shoulders, his frame thick and hard under her touch. His chest was thick with hair and she loved to run her fingers through it when they used to lie in bed, entangled in each other.
"Hi," Max mumbled at her, his voice thick and deep with sleep. She shifted her gaze back to his face and he was looking at her with a half smile. He placed his hand on her arm and ran it along her length. "How you feeling?" he asked, lifting up onto his elbow and placing his head into his palm. His other hand trailed down past her arm to her leg and stopped to trace circles on her knee. Jenna quickly got out of bed, regretting it right away as the dizziness and head rush hit her hard. She stumbled and closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her forehead and groaned. "You OK?" Max asked, sitting up in bed.
"Yeah, just a headache, I should leave," Jenna bent down to pick up her pants on the floor, as she stood back up Max got off the bed and stood in front of her.
"What, why?" Max asked, placing both hands on her shoulders. "You're drunk, you can't drive home."
"No, I'm fine now, really. I shouldn't still be here." Jenna tried to pull her pants on but stumbled and sat down on the bed for assistance. Max hovered over her, looking down. He couldn't understand what was happening. He thought things were good now; she had come to him, for once. She had come on her own to thank him, she had drank with him, she had let him touch her, pleasure her.
"I don't understand," Max admitted. He rubbed at his eyes that were still a little fuzzy from sleep. "Jenna stop!" Max growled loudly, reaching down and yanking her pants out of her hands and throwing them across the room. She wasn't leaving, not if he could help it. "You don't need these, let's just go back to sleep, we'll talk about it in the morning, OK?" Max said, trying to push Jenna down onto the bed and lay beside her. She pulled away from him and crawled off the bed.
"No Max, I need to leave." She started to walk across the room but suddenly felt Max's arms around her waist, pulling her back into him tight. He pushed his head down into her shoulder.
"Jenna, don't do this to me." Max begged, holding her tightly so she couldn't escape. He tried to calm his voice but felt the anxiety rising in his chest and through his words. He thought maybe if he held her close enough she'd stop and come back to bed. "Please?" he whispered, his hold on her tightened.
"Max, let go, you're hurting me," Jenna objected, wiggling, trying to loosen his grip on her waist, she pushed down at his hands, but no luck.
"I don't want to," he muttered to her, letting go and grabbing her by the shoulders to turn her towards him. She tried to step back but she wasn't quick enough. His hands gripped onto her tiny shoulders and his fingers dug in deep. "But you're not leaving me, Jenna. Not again."
