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up another half-flight into her attic bedroom.

Chapter Four
     
    Neve let go of Max’s hand so she could turn on the old-fashioned standard lamp in the corner, then felt his arms envelop her as he kissed the back of her neck, hands smoothing down the slippery faux satin of her dress. She half-heartedly sucked in her tummy though Max didn’t seem to mind that her belly went out rather than in.
    ‘Never thought you’d have such a messy bedroom,’ he whispered in her ear.
    ‘I wasn’t expecting visitors.’ Neve closed her eyes as she leaned back against Max’s chest so she wouldn’t have to look at the havoc Celia and Yuri had wreaked when they were helping her select a party outfit. They’d pulled out practically every single item of clothing in Neve’s closet and drawers and dumped them on her bed, on her vintage 1950s’ sideboard and her matching pair of Lloyd Loom wicker chairs. It didn’t help that 95 per cent of her clothes had an extremely muted colour palette so there were mounds of black material marring the pretty pink and whiteness of her room as if the guests at a funeral had performed an impromptu mass striptease.
    With Max still wrapped around her, Neve staggered over to her bed – about the only thing she’d bought new because she’d wanted a proper girly bed with an ivory curlicued frame that she could heap with floral-sprigged linen. ‘I’ll just chuck them on the floor,’ she said, scooping up a pile of skirts and flinging them on to her white floorboards. ‘Normally, though, I’d put them away properly.’
    ‘Of course you would,’ Max said, as if he didn’t believe her.
    ‘I so would!’
    ‘OK, you get this stuff off the bed and I’ll get this dress off of you,’ Max said playfully, lifting up her hair so he could fiddle with the hook-and-eye closure.
    ‘No, don’t do that,’ Neve yelped, turning quickly so she could wind her arms round Max’s neck. ‘You haven’t kissed me for at least five minutes.’
    ‘I’m sorry about that.’ His lips were on hers before he’d even finished the sentence, as he backed her on to the bed and came down on top of her.
    It was so much better than kissing on the sofa – not only was Neve’s head supported by her memory foam pillow, but the weight of Max on top of her and grinding slightly into her was more arousing than Neve had expected. It also meant that all he could see was her flushed face, so even when the skirt of her dress got tangled between them and he started stroking a path up her legs, there was nothing to freak out about. Touching wasn’t the same as looking and anyway, she’d shaved her legs earlier in the evening, even though Celia had insisted that the one way you were guaranteed never to pull a guy was if you shaved your legs before you went out. Which just showed how little she knew.
    ‘You’re so pretty,’ Max murmured against her skin, as he kissed a path along the neckline of her dress. ‘Shall we get a little bit more naked?’
    He pulled back so he could start unbuttoning his shirt and looked at her expectantly. Neve propped herself up on her elbows because lying flat on the bed wasn’t very becoming. The room was dimly lit but not dimly lit enough because Max would be able to see all of her just as clearly as Neve could see every inch of Max’s chest slowly emerging from its black cotton confines. His chest wasn’t just good to lean against; it was good to look at too. Not especially hairy, but just broad enough and toned enough that she couldn’t resist poking one of his pecs with a tremulous finger. There wasn’t much give. Neve fanned out her fingers and rubbed her thumb over one of his nipples; it was smaller and flatter and browner than hers and then she was running both hands over his chest because she could. Because Max wanted her to and he wouldn’t be smiling and shrugging his arms out of his shirt if he wanted her to stop.
    She dipped her fingers in and out of his clavicles and slid them