On the drive home I had thought up countless lies and rejected them all over and over again. But I shouldn't have bothered. Because neither my father nor my sisters were at home. There was just a small piece of paper on the worktop in the kitchen: Hello Jolie. Food is in the fridge. We're at the cinema - they're showing a new Disney film here. When Amelie saw the commercial, it was over. She left us no choice - be glad you were spared. - Father Again I had more luck than sense. It was almost frightening how much fate drove me into Malio's arms. Looking at the clock, I realized that I still had a good two hours left. I should be able to do that. I stood uncertainly in front of the mirror. I had already changed my outfit for the thousandth time and spontaneously decided on tight jeans and a black lace body. I hoped that exuded both nonchalance and the necessary breeze of sexiness. After all, it was sort of a date, wasn't it? My blonde hair fell in waves over my shoulders and down my back. I thought about going to the hairdresser, but somehow I really liked the length. The grandfather clock in the living room struck 7:30 p.m. (I had left all the doors open to orient myself to the ringing) I was horrified to realize that I had wasted an hour choosing an outfit - which I still wasn't 100% satisfied with, so I bought an extra one gray cardigan. 7:40 p.m. Damned! So there wasn't even half an hour left for my make-up. Well, I should be able to do that somehow. Of course, I don't manage to ring the doorbell at 8:30 p.m. sharp, as blurry light came out of the ornate panes of glass. "You're late!" Malio stated as he opened the door for me. And what should I say? Again he looked indescribably good. He was wearing a black shirt and dark jeans, but what surprised and irritated me in equal measure was the red chef's apron that said Master Cooks Here. "I'm cooking," he said casually, following my gaze, which was still on the apron. "You're cooking?" I questioned his statement. "Yes, why?" Malio stepped aside and waved me in. "Come on in - I have to go to the kitchen so the sauce doesn't boil over." He was serious! Malio cooked? Malio hurried ahead of me, into a room I had never been in before, but which seemed no less pompous than the rest of the house. "Wow!" I exclaimed. The kitchen was also kept in gold and white. It sparkled and glittered everywhere. Something was simmering on the stove, enveloping the kitchen in an irresistible scent. "What's that?" I followed Malio to the stove and took a look into the (how could it be otherwise) golden cooking pot. "Your family really likes gold, right?" It broke out of me and Malio laughed softly. "Yes, you recognized that very well. My father already slowed my mother down, otherwise there would be a lot more glitter and sparkle everywhere." He stirred once with the wooden spoon and then continued: "This is my grandmother's tomato sauce. An old family recipe. I didn't know if you were meat, so I thought I'd make veggie lasagna." With these words, Malio managed to surprise me for the second time that day. "Can I help you?" I asked, hoping he would turn down the offer because I was a terrible cook. Unfortunately, he was to surprise me again. Malio handed me a knife and said, "Can you cut the tomatoes and zucchini?" No, don't! "Sure, no problem!" was the answer I gave instead. As long as I just snipped things, I guess nothing should go wrong - even if it wasn't my favorite pastime. I took off my jacket, rolled up the sleeves of the cardigan, washed my hands and took one of the tomatoes that Malio had neatly placed in a row next to the cutting board. Which is where I faced the first challenge. What form did he want things in? "Erm, Malio?" "Mhm?" "Do you need the tomatoes in any particular shape?" "Sliced would be good.." Before I could roll my eyes I felt his breath on my cheek, "..just dice them. I nodded, unable to say anything. "You don't cook often, do you?" His breath was still brushing my cheek, which made me think he was still standing right behind me, looking over my shoulder. "Not really." "Lucky you have me, go to the stove and don't let the sauce boil over - I'll do this!" he said and I could almost hear the smile that crossed his lips as he said this . I nodded again and stood by the stove, which gives me an excellent view of its backside. "Watch the sauce!" Malio admonished when he realized I'd been staring at his butt for far too long. Damn! Cheeks glowing, I turned my gaze to the bubbling sauce. "Turn it down a bit!", I heard his voice, ,, .. to 4." "Sorry.", I said and let the cooking spoon circle - at least something I could. "Why are you apologizing?" Malio asked when he suddenly appeared next to me and poured the sliced tomatoes and zucchini into the saucepan. "I'm a loser," I admitted openly and honestly, which made Malio chuckle. "You're not. You just need some practice." "I didn't think you could cook." "I know - that's why I wanted you to come over. I want to show you that I'm more than the guy who keeps pushing you away or losing his nerve." I watched in silence as he alternated layers of pasta sheets and tomato sauce in a casserole dish, then sprinkled it with cheese. "Wait!" I called as he was about to put the pack of cheese aside. He really only wanted to sprinkle half a bag on it? "Give me the cheese!" "Why?" Malio looked at me confused. "What normal person would you just sprinkle half a pack of cheese on a lasagna?" I got hold of the pack, which he halfheartedly tried to keep out of my reach and tipped the contents onto the lasagna. "Are you satisfied now?" , Malio asked and again I heard his voice far too close. I hadn't even noticed how I had pushed myself in front of him. Now he almost cornered me again, grabbing the casserole dish and stopping mid-movement as I slowly turned to face him. I looked up at him with a racing heart. Oh god I shouldn't have turned around - I thought facing him head-on would be easier than hearing his voice in my ear. A mistake. It was much, much worse. His ice blue eyes rested on my face. I swallowed hard. Malio's hands still hung in the air, unsure whether to grab the casserole dish or my hips. The seconds just flew by when we didn't do anything but look at each other. As so often before, I just couldn't get enough of his face. From the blue eyes. The perfect facial features. The straight nose. The curved lips. I had a single wish. Only one. But so present that he overshadowed everything else. And I gave in to him. Closed the inches that separated our faces. Malio returned the kiss directly and my hips won his personal battle against the casserole dish - as he pressed me hard against the kitchen cabinet as the kiss grew more demanding. Perhaps what was to follow was inevitable. Maybe there was just sexual attraction between us. No longer. I pulled the annoying cooking apron over his head and stroked his hard chest. He moaned into the kiss. Not from excitement, but from pain. Of course - the gunshot wound. I had totally forgotten her. "Sorry!" I said quickly and, against my inner protests, I managed to pull myself away from him. He was breathing heavily. "It's okay." The crackling had died down - for now we had resisted the temptation to rip our clothes off here and now. Malio opened the oven and pushed the casserole dish in, then he turned to me and said: "What are you even wearing? Do you know how hard that is?" My cardigan had slipped off my right shoulder, exposing part of my black lace bodysuit. "What's hard?" I put my hand over my mouth - the ambiguity of this question struck me only now - in my head it sounded a lot more harmless. "Actually, I meant the control to not immediately attack you, but at the sight I'm hard too!", He said dryly and I felt the pulling in my abdomen. The longing for him. Without hesitating for a second, I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him. Before I pressed my lips to his again, I said quietly, "Then don't control yourself!" Our lips collided hard again. He kissed me like he had never done before. Wild and dirty. I moaned into the kiss as he slipped his hand down my pants. "Fuck!" he said while stroking my wet core. I groped for the temperature control on the oven while Malio continued to kiss me while simultaneously stroking my core over and over again. I finally found the stupid thing and turned it off just as Malio's fingers entered me. I clung to his shoulder - hoping it wasn't the side where the bullet had lodged. But even if it was her, he didn't change his face. "First time I'll make you cum right here!" He whispered harshly against my lips. I threw my head back with a groan as he added a second finger. He didn't even have to penetrate often before my walls tightened around his fingers and I came moaning. Malio pulled his hand out of my pants to pick me up the next moment so I could wrap my legs around him. Kissing, he went to the elevator. Damn it didn't go fast enough for me. I tugged at his shirt impatiently, unbuttoning it sullenly. The elevator opened - and I've never been more excited by an elevator beeping. I sighed with relief when Malio put me down and I was finally able to slip his shirt off my shoulders. I discovered a large square patch on his chest. I gently traced the edges, causing Malio to inhale sharply. "Does it still hurt badly?" "No - oh god," he sighed and tilted his head back while my hand reached into his pants and I leaned down to kiss the spot around the band-aid. "Fuck!" he said loudly again as I gripped him tightly and started to move my hand up and down. The elevator beeped again and Malio pushed me roughly out of the elevator, my hand slipping out of his pants again. He took it, greedily lowered his lips to mine again, and pushed open his bedroom door. I almost expected Blue to meet us. But Blue wasn't waiting for us in the room - because all that was waiting there was pure romance. Malio's room was strewn with candles. There must have been hundreds. "Oh my god," I said, overwhelmed, "That's exactly what you deserve." He pulled me back into his arms and our lips found each other automatically. I felt the bed against my walls as he gently but firmly guided me across the room. Malio unzipped my jeans and I flopped down on the bed so he could take them off easier. Now I was just laying on his bed in my semi-sheer lace bodysuit. "Damn," he stroked his hair and lower lip as his eyes traveled over and over my body. Up. Down. Up. Down. I straightened up, now sitting at waist height, and began to unbutton his pants. Malio took them off and then pushed me back into the sheets. "Do you really want it? I don't want to rush you." He reassured himself. Hopefully one last time. Because I wanted him. Now. My response was to pull him down and press my pelvis against his. Malio reached into his nightstand drawer and I recognized the packaging of a condom, watched him take off his tight black boxer shorts and his powerful erection literally jumped out at me. Wow. I couldn't think of more because he was already over me again and also removed the last fabric that still separated our bodies - my lace body. I moan in excitement as he stroked my middle again - running his fingers through it again and again. Which was no longer necessary - since I was more than ready for him anyway. "You're so wet," he said, grinning, and I heard myself whimpering longingly. He spread my legs, positioned himself between them, and lowered his lips to mine. I moan out loud in excitement and surprise as he unexpectedly entered me. He lingers in the position for a while to allow me to get used to his size and length, which was really enormous. Finally he slowly withdrew to enter again. A little harder. A little bit deeper. But with the same effect. I grabbed onto Malio's back for support as his thrusts increased in speed and severity. Until he finally hit hard and precisely again and again at a steady pace. Pushed me further and further over the abyss - directly towards my climax. "You're so tight!" He said, panting. I groaned. Loud and uninhibited. I threw my head back. "Malio!" "Come for me." I clutched his back deeper, he moaned and I was sure he liked it. "Harder!" I urged him. A smile curled his lips as he locked eyes with me and almost pulled himself out of me before jerking me off so hard and deep I screamed his name out loud. Something that I would have been totally embarrassed under other circumstances - but didn't begin to express what I was feeling right now. His pace picked up even faster and I felt like I was being torn apart. I can feel the knot in my abdomen loosen as he started rubbing my clitoris. My walls enclosed him, which also caused Malio to climax, panting and moaning. I had never felt so connected to anyone before. He lingers in me for a brief moment, letting his and my orgasm subside, then he carefully pulls himself out of me. And the feelings were still there - they were even stronger than before. Hell, I actually fell in love with him! "Um..", I heard Malio's voice. Although I didn't look at him, I felt his gaze on me. "Um Jolien...", his voice broke and he didn't even have to finish his sentence, because I already knew what he couldn't say but actually wanted to say. To avoid the humiliation, I pressed the gray duvet, the color of which I hadn't noticed before, against my chest and sat up. Just as I was swinging my bare legs out of bed and looking around for my black lace bodysuit and jeans, I felt Malio's hand on my shoulder. "What are you doing?" She applied gentle but firm pressure, holding me exactly where I was sitting. "I'm going," I reply curtly, discovering the lace bodysuit lying next to the bed. "Why?" I turned my head to him, he had also straightened up, turned his upper body to me. I looked confused. Tried to keep my gaze on his face and not give in to the urge to examine every inch of his chest. Admiring every line of his tattoo. "Because that's what you want. I mean..." "Stop!" He interrupted me harshly. My mouth was still open, but no more words passed my lips. I looked at him expectantly. Excited to see what he had to say next. "Do you really think I want that?" Malio ran his hands through his dark hair, never taking his eyes off me. "Yes - no idea." The typical answer you give when you don't know what else to say. "Jolien, seriously now. Do you really think I'd go to all the trouble if it was all about sex? I've had sex before you - lots of sex. I don't have to do anything like that." As if I didn't know. The no idea would also fit here, at this point, as an excellent answer - because I really had no idea what to say to that. When I didn't say anything and wanted to turn my face away, with the glowing cheeks, he tightened his grip on my shoulder and said loudly, "Look at me - tell me if you really believe that!" When I didn't react, his Voice harder. "Jolien, look at me!" I reluctantly turned my head back in his direction. "Do you really believe that?" I shrugged. "I could have fucked you a lot sooner if that was all I wanted. Don't forget I turned you down twice." Somehow his words hit me and again I wanted to look away. "Don't you dare look away now! Look at me when I say this to you." The dominance in his hard, deep voice made me obey. ,, So, now again for the woman here, who is slow on the uptake. No, you shouldn't go. No, I didn't just want sex. Do you still have any concerns? Then now would be the best moment to reveal it." "I just thought...you and women...that you only want sex...Chantal....", I mumbled without rhyme or reason. This dominant species, which sometimes scratched the surface, fascinated me in the same way it scared me. I was unable to think straight. Unable to put out a decent and above all complete sentence. "Oh god Jolien!" He crawled across the bed, closing the distance that separated us. "All the stories you've heard about me are true! Your worst fears are true too! But that was all before your time. I've never done anything like this (he pointed to the flickering candles that still dimmed the room) for any other woman." "Oh..." It was the only thing that escaped my lips. Jolie! Damned. With those powerful answers, I would certainly get the award for the dumbest answers at the worst moments. He grabbed my hand, the very hand that was holding the covers against my body. Another gesture from me that was completely unnecessary - after all, he had just seen me naked. "Jolien, I don't want to play with you. I don't just want to fuck you. I want to spend time with you! I want to go to the winter ball with you and I don't care about any other woman. All I want is right now sitting on my bed driving me insane!" I allowed him to take my hand in his, but not before pinning the blanket back to my chest with my free hand. "And that's ridiculous." Malio pointed to the frantic attempt to keep the blanket from slipping. "In case you missed it. We just slept together. I just saw it all and found it incredible - for my sake (pointing to the blanket) you'll never need anything to cover you again when you're with me." I shrugged, but a small smile crossed my lips at his words. "Get back to bed!" he nagded, gently pulling me back into the soft sheets. "A Malio wants to cuddle?" I asked in disbelief when he took me in his arms. "Actually, I don't do that." He honestly admitted what I already knew. The way he spoke to Chantal back then, after he saved me from Alex, suggested he wasn't the type of guy who really liked cuddling after sex. "But it's different with you. ", his words brought me back from the memory of that night. I had successfully suppressed them until just now - now they clouded my mood. For a moment I gave up the resistance and snuggled into his chest. Although a film of sweat had formed on Malio's skin during sex, he still smelled incredibly good. So seductive. Tobacco, amber and cardamom. I recognized him. The sweet and spicy scent. Which was due to my obsessive addiction to perfume. Dolce & Gabbana - the one. I snuggled my head even closer to his chest, inhaling the sensual scent that threatened to cloud my mind. Seductively sensual, I remembered the description of the heavy scent. A better scent would not suit him at all. It further underscored the obvious. Managed to round off its incredible beauty with the right scent. Malio's fingers gently stroked my bare upper arm. A gentle touch that sent waves of electricity through my body again and again. I didn't know how long we just lay there, arm in arm, heartbeat after heartbeat. So tightly entwined that nothing fit between us. At some point my stomach growled and Malio laughed softly. "Maybe we should go get something to eat." But that wasn't what startled me and for a moment made me totally forget that I was still naked. It was the bell. The ringing at the door. I heard him curse softly. "What time is it actually?" "Fuck, that's Harry!" Malio gently pushed me aside and put his boxer shorts back on. If it was Harry, then the show was over. Let's say he was in the 8:00 p.m. show. A film usually lasts about two hours. Crap! I had completely forgotten the time. My hunger was gone when Malio handed me his cell phone after repeated requests. "Fuck!" I said loudly as I looked at the display. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" "I think it's pretty hot when you swear, but can I help you in any way?" He leaned in across the bed, placing his palms on the white sheets on either side of me. In contrast to me, he was already fully dressed again, which did not detract from his lust - which immediately flared up again in his eyes with a quick glance at my exposed breasts. "Can you turn back time? My father is killing me." It was 10:45 p.m. By the time I got home it would be almost midnight. I was so delivered!