CHAPTER 77

Max never tired of kissing her, and she never tired of letting him kiss and caress her. They could stay like this, together, concentrating on each other for hours.

On top of her, he kissed her back, enjoying how her skin bristled with the touch of his lips against a complexion that had just lived episodes of pure eroticism.

«How beautiful Carla is, how willing, how expert and ready for me», were some of Max's thoughts during or after making love to her.

Many were the graceful occasions they loved each other that afternoon. Now it was night, the very night of the seventeenth of that first month of the year. They knew that there were still things pending to talk about, to discuss, to confess, but none of them wanted to burst that idyllic bubble of very thin glass that would bring with it, when it broke, dangerous shards of glass.

However, Carla also wanted to put one foot on the ground.

"We must talk," she said, her voice a little husky, a little hoarse too, full of sleep and happiness.