Crashing into an Old Flame -
Chapter 159: Hickeys
Chapter 159: Hickeys
Diana entered the washroom and proceeded to knock on the door of every cubicle.
When there was no response from any of them, she walked towards the vanity. Leaning back on the cabinet, she wore her heels properly.
After a few seconds, she turned around and glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
Her face was flushing, her eyes looked so sultry that she looked like she was about to seduce someone, her breath was still uneven and her body...was not in her control.
’Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think—’
"Ahh..." Diana covered her face with both her palms, muffling her screams.
The reminder of what happened earlier was playing like a live-action movie in her head. How could she stop thinking about it?
Did she ask him to continue? Yes, she did. And that too unabashedly.
Did she forget that they were in a public place? She didn’t.
Did she care about it at that time? Again, she didn’t.
He could have gone all the way with her right there and there and she doubted that she would have had the decency to stop him.
"Ah Ah Ah! What do I do now? Where do I die?" Diana screamed, crying and whining in between.
She remembered that whenever she read books where there were scenes of leads making out in a car or garage for a thrill, she cringed every time, wondering why they couldn’t wait to make it back to their bedroom.
But for the first time in her life, seeing things from their POV, she regretted judging a book by its cover.
Diana hesitated for another moment before she let her hands slide down her face.
As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, something caught her attention.
She pulled her hair back and glanced at the bright red marks on her neck. Her skin looked bruised.
When did it happen? It looked painful... how did she not feel the pain?
’You were too overtaken by the pleasure part to notice the pain,’ the devil on her shoulder mocked.
Diana quickly covered the hickeys in her hair.
She could still feel his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, and the way he seemed to have possessed her at that moment.
Her heart raced.
Diana placed her palm on her chest, feeling the uneven beats of the reckless organ.
They had yet to go all the way and she was like this. What if his words came true? What if everything was irreversible between them after the deed was done?
Diana shook her head, getting rid of that uneasy thought.
She looked at her reflection again, "Once the hormones find their balance, I don’t think it would be too hard to get over what happened between us and be friends again," she had never been touched before the way he touched her today and that made her feel so restless, filling her with complicated emotions but it was just a phase which will eventually pass.
"When I booked a flight and ran away from home with Angel, I was just this pessimistic, scared, and nervous because I had no experience in it but once I calmed down and settled here, didn’t everything turn out to be perfect?" The more she thought about it, the further sense it made.
After giving herself a pep talk, Diana grabbed her bag and left the washroom.
The moment she stepped out, she found Maxim leaning against the wall next to the door.
Their faces were suddenly so close.
She gulped and shut the door behind her, stepping away from him within an instant.
"W-When did you come?" She wanted to slap her mouth for stuttering but he was looking at her, into her eyes, with the kind of look that was making her unusually nervous.
"A few minutes ago," Maxim straightened up, thrusting his hands in his pockets.
The very same hands that pulled her dress up.
’Stop it, Diana. You can’t be so dirty-minded every time you see him!’ She cursed herself in her heart.
"Get in..." she pushed open the washroom door and held it.
He raised an eyebrow.
"There is no one inside. Just get in for a moment," she looked at him.
"Why?"
"Just do what I say," she urged him with her eyes, "Get in and say something to me from there."
Maxim sighed softly before he stepped inside.
After a few seconds, Diana opened the door, "Did you say something?"
He looked at her in confusion but eventually nodded, "I called your name."
She sighed in relief, "It’s soundproofed huh," she could have asked him if he heard her but what if he lied to save her from embarrassment?
Maxim stepped out, his gaze turning understanding, "You didn’t want me to hear you. So, were you badmouthing me in there earlier?"
"I wasn’t," she rolled her eyes at him. Why did he even assume that she would badmouth him? She just did not want her pep talk to be heard by him.
He had all pros, no cons. Even if she had to badmouth someone, she would badmouth herself. She could not bear to badmouth her sheep.
’He did not resemble a sheep inside the changing room,’ a voice in her head said.
Diana cleared her throat, "Anyway, let’s go home. I am tired."
Maxim ruffled her hair, "You need to improve your stamina."
She swatted his hand away, "I know. Daisy used to force me to work out with her whenever she was around..." Diana trailed off and glared at him, "What did you mean by improving my stamina?"
"The literal meaning," Maxim’s gaze shifted to her reddening cheeks, "So dirty-minded," he clicked his tongue.
Diana turned around and walked away without arguing with him. She could bet her non-existent riches on the fact that he had said it in a dirty way but blamed her for being dirty-minded.
Maxim caught up to her with a few huge strides and grabbed her hand before intertwining their fingers.
Diana glanced at their locked hands, feeling an indescribable emotion rising in her chest.
In the end, she shook off that random emotion and raised her head to look at his side profile, "I meant it literally," she mumbled softly.
"Hmm?" Maxim glanced at her.
"Literally tired, and hungry," Speaking about hunger, she felt indignant, "Say, I had expectations from the date tonight but they ruined it all," her dear food. She would get justice for her food.
"I believe your expectations were met."
Her face heated up at the insinuation of his words. But when she looked at him, he was looking ahead without much of an expression on his straight face.
Diana doubted whether she was really the dirty-minded one.
"In what way?" she squinted her eyes.
"They were ashamed in the end and you got a..." Maxim looked at her, seemingly contemplating over the right choice of words, "...free skin treatment, in your words."
Diana could still smell the lingering scent of wine on her but it was intermingled with his scent.
She coughed, "You’re right," she felt that there was something amiss with the way he phrased it but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
After a few moments, she shrugged it off.
"Let’s just go home. I want you to cook me a lavish dinner. I am starving," Diana spoke up when they reached the car.
Maxim halted in his tracks.
When she glanced at him in confusion, he spoke up, "Did you forget that we live separately now?"
Diana stiffened. She really did forget that.
He chuckled, "But I can get you well-fed," he brushed the back of his index finger on the tip of her nose.
Diana rolled her eyes, "I am not a cat..." she trailed off, her gaze shifted to his car where three shop assistants were standing near his car trunk and arranging the shopping bags.
"Why are there so many bags?" Diana looked at him.
"You were gone for a long time, so I shopped a bit," he said, taking her to the car.
"That’s not just a ’bit’," she laughed, "Fond of shopping, aren’t you?"
"For you."
"Hmm?" She looked at him when he opened the car door for her.
"Fond of shopping for you," he released her hand, letting his fingers slowly glide off her palm.
Her heart skipped a beat.
But as she looked at him, he seemed unbothered as if he had not said anything out of the ordinary.
Diana buckled her seatbelt and patted her chest. Hormones. Certainly, the hormones are messing up the order of balance in her system.
Maxim got inside the car but before he could step on the accelerator, she stopped him.
He looked at her questioningly.
"We are having a conversation," she glanced at him.
"Now?" He raised a brow.
"Right now."
"Here?"
She nodded.
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