this happened again. I thought Wayne would understand, that with his own crazy schedule, he’d respect my work.” Natasha gave a huff of frustration. “Dinner a few times a week, sex, support for each other’s work and an occasional holiday—is that too much to ask? Why does dating always lead to other crap expectations?”
Alya snorted. “He didn’t ask you to pick up his dry cleaning again, did he?”
Natasha shook her head. “I think I made my answer clear the last time he asked. Now it’s his department’s barbeque. But, seriously, why is he asking me to make a plate for it?” She turned to Max and pointed her finger at him. “And Wayne already mansplained all the ways medical research is different from other biology research, why his job is so much more important.”
“You think I’d talk down your work?” he asked with an almost straight face. “Not a chance in hell.”
Her complete absorption with saving the marine world was an appeal, not a drawback. Instead, Max had been thinking about the last time he’d witnessed one of her breakups. She’d been devastated. So if she wanted to direct some of her manfrustration at him, that was fine. Anything that steered her away from hurt.
“Maybe I should lower my standards. Just sex. No relationship at all.” Natasha massaged her temples. “I think I’m getting a headache.”
Max’s rational brain stuttered to a stop at the words just sex, starting him down that thinking-with-his-dick road, which was paved with justifications.
She just wants sex. Hey—that’s what I want, too.
Yeah, that wasn’t a particularly nuanced or eloquent path.
Alya’s heels clicked on the tile as she crossed the kitchen floor to the white cupboards. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water, dropped in a Berocca tablet, then set it in front of Natasha. All three of them watched it fizz.
“You’re going to need this.” Alya tapped the glass. “I don’t get it. He actually took you to a beautiful restaurant with water views just to dump you?”
“Technically, I broke up with him, but that was after he suggested a more ‘open’ relationship. Oh, and he also backed out of the Hawaii trip. Wayne said the hospital was short-staffed so it was better for him not to take a holiday right now. And since I’ll be putting in long hours soon, he didn’t want to ‘hold me back.’ Nice of him, right?” Natasha blew more strands of hair out of her face and took a gulp from the glass. “This was before the waitress even stopped by. Of course, that helped me decide on my order. The caviar is pretty damn expensive, as Wayne now knows.”
Max smiled a little. Natasha definitely sounded more frustrated than sad about the situation, and she still had her sense of humor. All good signs.
“I still don’t get it. You and Wayne have always had tight schedules. What changed?” asked Alya.
Natasha glanced at Max, a flush creeping up her neck. She eyed him. “Promise not to bring this up after tonight?”
“I’ll do whatever makes you happy, sweetheart,” he said, slowing on whatever.
His words had the effect he was hoping for. Her eyes widened, and the flush racing to her cheeks deepened. She usually tried to hide it a little better. That forbidden surge of attraction. Except now it wasn’t forbidden. She was single.
But he really meant it, and not just sexually. He had tried to stay away, despite the tsunami of hot tension that hit every time he found himself alone with Natasha, because he came with something Natasha despised: media scrutiny. In his case, it mostly took the form of speculations about his sex life and judgments about his general morality. And when he took the position his father had groomed him for next week, the attention would step up. His father’s coverage had gotten personal at some point, at the expense of his mother. When Max took his place at the head of the Jensen Family Foundation, he had no doubt Natasha would steer as far away from him as she could.
Alya cleared her throat. “You were saying?”
Natasha was watching him, her lips parted a little, but she snapped her mouth shut at her sister’s voice. “Right. The reason for the time apart.” She drummed her fingers on the table and glanced over at Max. “Since you’re here, and you’re a guy—with a dick, I’m assuming—I want your opinion on something.”
Max wrinkled his brow. “My opinion on Wayne?”
“Sort of.”
Max frowned. He had met enough of the Waynes of the world to know they’d never take the time to make sure Natasha was happy. Still, she’d clearly had a rough evening, so maybe it was time to soften his assessment a little? Nah.
His opinion of Wayne could be summed up in two words: pretentious asshole. The handful of times they’d met in person, Wayne had found a way to mention his super-important medical degree and how he was irreplaceable. Max had resisted a sarcastic retort about his own days at Princeton for Natasha’s sake. And because the douche probably wouldn’t have recognized sarcasm if it bit him in the crotch.
Natasha took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the question. What are some of the reasons you might not be interested in...sex with a girlfriend? And then you set her free for a bit.”
Whoa. Not what he was expecting. And the thing that came to mind immediately would hurt. It was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now, so he searched for something that might make her feel better, instead.
“Um, maybe if you have surgery on your love stick, and it’s in recovery?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Or maybe you’re doing some experiment with getting your girlfriend super horny before talking her into a sexy scenario involving—”
“Stop,” said Natasha, putting her hand up to cut him off. “Wrong person to ask. Alya?”
Alya furrowed her brow. “You want me to say it?”
Natasha nodded.
“Okay. He wants to shag other women,” said Alya softly.
Natasha glanced at Max for confirmation, but he said nothing.
Her mouth tugged down at the corners. “You were thinking it, too, weren’t you?”
That had been his first guess, followed by the possibility that Wayne was gay. There was no way to give her an honest answer without hurting her.
“What reason did he give?” asked Max.
Natasha shrugged. “Too tired. Too busy. And he really is tired and busy.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “What kind of blow job can you be too tired for? I’m curious.”
Her face flushed a deep red. “You heard that?”
“I heard it, but I’m having trouble understanding it.”
Natasha smiled a little, but it faded quickly. She bit her lip. Had Wayne, the self-important wanker, made her feel like she had done something wrong? Hell no.
“And he suggested you take some time off to have sex with other guys?” asked Alya.
“He didn’t say those words exactly, but he implied it.”
“Did he want you to report back to him?” asked Max. “Is this a kink thing?”
Both Natasha and Alya burst into laughter.
“I’m pretty sure Wayne is kink-free,” Natasha said with a snort. “He doesn’t seem to be into sex much at all.”
What the hell kind of man wasn’t into sex? A list of all the things he’d be into with Natasha came to Max’s mind, but it definitely wasn’t for her sister’s ears.
Natasha’s expression grew serious. And a little sad. Damn. She took a couple of gulps of fizzy water and glanced at Max as she set down the glass. “I’m really going to regret telling you all