He was in worse shape than usual. He stumbled over his own feet and cursed as he nearly hit the ground. I threw back the blanket and hesitantly tried to help him. It was around two a.m. so I knew I couldn’t expect much. Max on drugs was good, but Max on drugs and in a drunken stupor was scary. He sometimes got out of hand. It also made him sloppy, something you’d rarely see from him. “Hey you,” he ran a hand up my side, gripping my breast. The roughness of his hands made me wince. “Hey, are you feeling okay?” I asked hesitantly. “Never better.” His smile was wide. “I’ve been waiting all night to get to you.” “You have me, whatever will you do with me?” I teased, running my fingers through my hair. “Let me look at you.”
