The Return of Desire: Forbidden Flames Reignite.
Max's return brought chaos to my life. My engagement to Fredrick was unraveling as I became consumed by long, intimate phone calls and secret meetings with Max. Though Fredrick couldn't identify the source of my distraction, my indifference to him was impossible to ignore. I even asked to postpone our wedding plans—a request that left Fredrick speechless.
My friend Sarah was the only one aware of Max's reappearance, and she wasted no opportunity to admonish me. "You're playing with fire," she said during one of our heated phone calls. "Max is selfish and undeserving of your forgiveness. Don't you remember how he left without a word?"
I tried to defend him, explaining that he'd lost his phone and contacts while in the U.S., but Sarah dismissed my excuses. "You're naïve, MMA. Men like Max know how to spin stories to get what they want."
Sarah wasn't alone in her opinion. Adiaba and Jummai, upon learning of my secret, were equally disapproving. Yet despite their warnings, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull Max had on me.
One quiet Sunday evening, as I sat in my room pretending to study, a knock at the door startled me. I wasn't expecting anyone. When I peeked through the door-hole, my heart skipped. It was Max.
I hesitated for a moment before opening the door. "Max? What are you doing here? You didn't call or text," I said, my voice betraying my surprise.
He smiled, that confident, charming smile that always disarmed me. "How could I call when you've been ignoring me, sweetheart? Are you avoiding me?"
He wasn't wrong. I'd been dodging his calls, trying to untangle the mess of my feelings for him and Fredrick. I opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him in.
As he settled onto the couch, he patted the seat beside him. "Come sit with me. Let's talk."
Reluctantly, I joined him, my heart racing as his arm draped casually over my shoulders. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I silently cursed my body for betraying me.
"So," he began, "tell me about these men you mentioned before—the ones who were supposedly vying for your love." His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, searching.
I frowned. "Why does that matter now?"
He leaned closer, his voice soft but insistent. "It matters because I care. I need to know if I'm the only one in your heart."
I hesitated, debating how much to reveal. Finally, I admitted, "I've had flings, Max, but nothing serious. No one compares to you."
His face darkened at my words, and for a long moment, he said nothing. The tension in the room grew thick, the silence stretching between us. I watched him carefully, unsure of what he was thinking.
Finally, I broke the quiet. "What about you, Max? Did you... find anyone while you were in the U.S.?"
He avoided my gaze, his hands clenching into fists. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost pained. "I haven't been with anyone else."
His confession stunned me. Max, the man who had women throwing themselves at him during university, had remained untouched? My chest swelled with a mix of disbelief and pride.
I moved closer, gently placing a hand on his cheek. "You mean that?"
He nodded, his dark eyes locked on mine. Before I could process what was happening, he pulled me into a kiss. It was fierce, demanding, and utterly consuming. My thoughts blurred as I surrendered to the fire burning between us.
I tried to pull away, but Max wasn't letting go. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me back against him. His lips were insistent, and I found myself responding with equal fervor. My hands tangled in his hair, his shirt, anything I could grab as we fell deeper into the moment.
The couch became our world, our breaths mingling, bodies pressed together. Clothes fell away in a haze of passion, and before I knew it, we were tangled together, moving as one.
Max's strength was overwhelming, his touch igniting parts of me I didn't know existed. He held me as if he'd never let go, his every movement a declaration of the desire he'd kept buried for years.
When it was over, we lay entwined, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I traced lazy patterns on his chest, marveling at the intensity of what had just happened.
"Wow," I whispered, a satisfied smile on my lips. "Max, you're..."
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "That's just the beginning, sweetheart."
And for the first time in weeks, my confusion seemed to dissolve, replaced by the certainty that I was exactly where I was meant to be.