16. Alessandra
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
alessandra
A shiver tickles the length of my spine as two strong hands glide up my calves.
Rough fingertips add to the heady sensation.
Everywhere aches, and with every inch the hands move higher, my core clenches in anticipation.
I’ve been wet from the second his heated skin brushed over me, featherlight but electrifying.
My breaths come in fast, increasing in staccato.
When he reaches my thighs, he changes tactics, his touches becoming lazier.
Rather than a straight line, he veers inward, stroking the soft skin and pushing my legs apart.
I’m bared to him now.
Not a stitch of clothing to hide my soaked pussy.
Without the sense of sight, I’m completely at his mercy.
The blindfold he asked me to wear intensifies everything.
I’d kill to see the glow in his eyes as he drinks me in.
For now, his husky groans, smoky scent, and torturous touches are enough to push me over the edge.
He’s a faceless, nameless seductor.
I jolt when his lips graze just below my navel.
“ Are you wet for me? ”
His voice drips with lust, but it’s the deep chuckle that follows when I shake my head that has desire pulling low in my belly.
“Stubborn thing, aren’t you, Silver ?” he whispers.
Wait!
Silver.
Smoky scent.
I rip off the blindfold and find the man who coined that nickname lying between my open thighs.
What’s weird is the huge, white chef hat on his head.
And why is he wearing cycling shorts?
!
“What the fu?—”
As if dropped from a great height, I jerk upright and my eyes spring open.
I’m in bed.
The mattress is smooth, warm, and firm.
When I turn my head, mortification hits me with the force of a freight train.
I’m in bed, yes. But I’m not lying on a mattress.
My entire body is sprawled out over a sleeping Booth ; leg hitched high over his hip and hand splayed across his solid chest. His hands are tucked behind his head like they were when he fell asleep.
From the looks of it, he’s barely moved an inch.
It’s me that’s crossed the barrier, crawled on top of him to cling to him like a baby koala.
Move too suddenly and I risk waking him, but I can’t stay like this.
I raise my hand slowly off his pec.
My leg is the tricky part.
Our legs are tangled together like twisting vines.
If I shift a little to the right and wig ? —
“Can you hurry so I can stop pretending to be asleep?” a gravelly voice grumbles .
Gasping, I push up to find his sleepy gaze staring at me in amusement.
He yawns, not a drop of embarrassment to be seen.
I’m the one drowning in it.
“How long have you been awake?” My voice pitches.
“When you jumped like you’d been electrocuted. Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” His lips twitch.
“I am not a cuddler,” I argue.
His eyes drop to our intertwined limbs.
“ Could have fooled me.”
I throw myself backward, immediately feeling cold.
The fire went out hours ago and without it, the cabin is freezing.
The drop in temperature has nothing to do with the loss of Booth’s body heat.
“You should have woken me.” I tug the comforter to my chest, even though I’m covered head to toe in red flannel.
Booth , however, is naked from the waist up, the sheets draped over him to show the top of his blue pajama pants.
I was too pissed off at him the other day to admire him.
Now , I can’t tear my eyes away.
Smooth , hard skin on full display.
The divots of his abs shift slightly with his breathing, and a deep V cuts low on his abdomen.
His chest is bare, but there’s a smattering of hair below his belly button that disappears under his waistband.
He’s beautiful. All sharp lines and lean muscle.
“My eyes are up here, Silver .” He purrs my name, exactly how he did in my dream.
Oh god, I had a sex dream about him.
He’s not a mind reader, though the cocky grin he’s flashing leaves me doubtful.
“You’re adorable when you’re asleep. Your nose scrunches up—just like this.” He wiggles his nose.
“I am not adorable. Stop talking. Please . And wipe whatever happened from your memory.”
He swallows, eyes sweeping over me.
“ Highly unlikely. ”
Frustrated with myself and his casual reaction, I throw back the covers and bolt from the bed.
Stomping over to the large window in front of the bathtub, I ignore his laughter.
The view outside doesn’t help my mood.
The storm has worsened.
The tree line has been swallowed up by the thick wall of snow falling rapidly from the sky.
It’s so heavy, it creeps up the window, growing before my eyes.
We’re not going anywhere today.
I sense him behind me.
“ Do you need to call anyone?”
“I spoke to my family yesterday. I should check in with them, though.”
“Use my phone. The service is crap around here, but I get a couple of bars by the front door.”
Thankfully, he’s put on a sweatshirt.
“I won’t be long.” I force a smile when he hands me his phone.
“ Thank you.”
Before I walk away, he says, “ I’ll make breakfast. Anything you don’t like or allergies?”
“I’m not picky, but I can cook for my?—”
“Aly, I’m cooking for you. Call your parents.” He leaves me and starts throwing fresh logs into the wood-burning stove.
After speaking to my father and begging him to reassure my mom I’m safe, we say goodbye.
I’m sad to not be with them, especially as I haven’t seen my brothers in a couple of months, but we make plans to see each other soon.
Christmas is always a mish-mash of American and Greek traditions.
Instead of ham or turkey, we have moschari lemonato —a roast beef dish with lemon gravy.
Out of everything, I’ll miss my mom’s melomakarona cookies the most.
Booth makes us the fluffiest scrambled eggs, which I devour.
He doesn’t stop me when I do the washing up and busies himself by stoking the fire.
We’re quiet. Polite .
Civil .
It’s awkward .
I’m sifting through my bag, searching for a change of clothes while he lounges on the sofa, now in a pair of gray sweats.
Every time his eyes drift toward me from the other side of the room, my body heats.
I’m concentrating so hard to not think about him I don’t see his duffel bag at the foot of the bed.
Flailing , I reach for the closest thing to right myself, which is my suitcase, scattering the contents everywhere.
If I thought waking up curled into Booth was humiliating, my vibrator flying through the air and landing on the pillow with a plop is the pinnacle.
My head turns slowly, hoping to find an oblivious Booth .
He’s staring right at the black silicone object with an impressed expression.
I prepare for his immature quip, suiting up in my armor, ready to call him out.
“Get it over with,” I snap, hating my defensive tone.
He looks shocked at my outburst. “ Is this another trap?”
“You’re dying to make a joke.” I gesture toward the vibrator.
“ Get it out of your system.”
I fold my arms, hip jutting to the side as I wait.
Daring him to say something with my eyes.
“I’m not one to miss the opportunity to make people laugh, but I don’t find women’s pleasure funny. Far from it.” He doesn’t budge.
His posture is confident, legs spread wide, spine flush against the sofa as he observes me.
“ I take it very seriously.”
He needs to stop talking.
“I don’t think you’re capable of being serious.”
His head tilts.
“ When it counts, I can be.”
My spine tingles with awareness; the hidden meaning clear.
Tempting him would be careless.
The thing with Booth , though, is I can’t seem to help myself.
My next words are smug, voice breathy.
“ My toy has never let me down like a man has. ”
Our gazes don’t break, welded together by the sparks flickering between us.
His eyes blaze, burning bright and fierce.
“ Prove it.”
He’s the kindling with those two bold words.
The lit match is held between my fingers.
“You think I won’t?” I perch myself on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed, as I prop myself up on one arm.
“You haven’t backed down so far. Why stop now?” His Adam’s apple bobs as he tracks a fiery path over my body.
We both know why this isn’t a good idea.
One : we don’t even like each other.
Two : we work together.
But when he leans forward, elbows balanced on his knees with a yearning I can feel from across the room, all sense of reason evaporates.
“ You tell me no, and we forget this conversation ever happened.”
“And if I say yes…” I don’t blink.
Don’t dare move a muscle.
“Then you get that glorious body spread out on those sheets, stripped bare, and show me what you can do with that toy.” He drags his thumb across his bottom lip lazily.
“ Prove to me I can’t do it better.”
All the air leaves my lungs.
Because I want that.
I’m actually certain he could do it better, but I’m not telling him that.
The toy is a good six inches, and from the tenting in his sweats, Booth isn’t lacking in the size category.
“Don’t let your ego get too bruised when I prove you wrong.” I shuffle toward the headboard.
“Yes or no. I want your explicit consent right now,” his deep voice echoes.
“Yes.” My response is instantaneous.
Those goddamn fucking dimples pop out.
“ Clothes off and lie back.”
My heart pounds against my rib cage at his demanding words.
He rises, then prowls toward me.
When he comes to the edge of the bed, he doesn’t sit.
Just stands there, eating up every inch of me with a single look.
I’ve always been confident in the bedroom.
I know what I like and when to ask for it.
The only explanation for the slight tremble in my hands is the thrill of it all.
He’s giving me the opportunity to say no; to not cross this line.
Right now, I want to feed the excitement coursing through my veins.
To rise to his challenge.
To surrender to this.
Just once.
I get to work on the buttons of my pajamas, eyes on him the entire time.
The lower I travel, the darker his irises get.
When my shirt gapes open, scantily covering my peaked nipples, there’s no blue left.
Sky blue eaten up by midnight.
I’m like a human torch; hot from excitement.
The cool air in the cabin kisses my skin while the heat of his admiration warms me from the inside out.
“I bet you’re fucking soaked right now. Dripping down your thighs and aching to be filled.” He jerks his chin.
“ Keep going. I want to see all of you.”
I glance at the prominent bulge pressing against the front of his sweats, my voice teasing.
“ Eager , pretty boy?”
He shakes his head and chuckles.
With deliberate slowness, I slide my shirt from my shoulders and shimmy out of my pants, dropping them to the floor.
I keep my knees tucked together as I recline against the downy pillow.
He raises a hand and, with two fingers, gestures to the side.
“ Open . Slowly .”
“Bossy.” Despite my sass, my legs drop open, exposing myself fully.
Booth sucks in a sharp breath as he scrubs a hand against the stubble on his jaw.
He takes his time admiring me.
“ Fuck , if you’re not the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. You might have a sharp tongue, but you’re all soft curves under there. You’re in charge this time, baby. But next time?—”
“No next time. This is a one-time-only occurrence. Right now, we’re strangers. When we leave here, we go back to wanting to strangle each other. Deal ?”
It’s fleeting, but he looks disappointed.
“Deal.” In two steps, he looms over me and plucks the toy off the pillow before dropping it between my open legs.
“ Get to work, Silver .”
There’s no turning back now.
He falls to his knees on the mattress, positioning himself at my feet.
I grab the toy, and with one click, it comes to life.
The low hum, our heavy breathing, and the crackling of wood disappear when I coast the silicone tip between my breasts, over my navel, and stop at the top of my pelvis.
My eyes lower but snap up at his gruff tone.
“Eyes on me. I’ll keep my hands to myself, but your eyes are mine, and it’ll be my name on your lips when you come.”
Not wanting to think he’s totally in charge, I wink at him slyly and whisper, “ Yes , Chef .”
His laughter dies when the toy lowers.
My skin tingles under the vibrations, and when it hits my clit, a gasp slips free.
I drag it back and forth idly with the barest of touches.
Torturing myself and Booth with the way his hands fist on top of the comforter.
“How does it feel?” he murmurs, eyes following the journey of my hand.
“So good,” I husk.
“Tell me what you’re going to do next.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth when I moan.
“I like to start off slow, then I increase the speed.” I click the button, the humming sound increasing.
“Look at you glistening. So pretty and pink.” My eyebrow rises in warning when he crawls forward.
“ I won’t touch you. I just want to look.”
The pleading in his voice makes me lightheaded, knowing he’s turned on from simply watching me.
It makes me feel sexy.
Powerful .
I press down, pulsing it against my pussy as I shift my hips up and down.
My arousal pools beneath me, desperate and greedy for more.
My control hangs by a thread, but if he touches me, this will all go up in an inferno.
Both wanton and deprived, I don’t stop.
My legs widen, my moans turn rough.
“Slower, Silver ,” he growls as I play with my entrance, pushing the tip in.
“ I want to see that beautiful cunt stretch around your toy.”
I do as he says, too pleasure drunk to respond.
It’s not a thick vibrator, but it still has me gasping.
“What I wouldn’t do for that to be my cock. I want you to imagine it’s me. Filling you perfectly.”
Stars burst in my vision, and when I regain focus, Booth is settled on his stomach, splayed out between my legs.
The bed shifts, which is when I notice his hips lightly thrusting into the mattress.
This whole scene is lewd.
Filthy . Hungry .
And it pushes me closer and closer to the edge.
“Don’t stop. Fuck yourself with the toy,” he grunts.
“ God , I’ve never been so fucking hard. Are you close?”
So close, it’s overwhelming.
All I manage is a jerk of my head and raspy “ Yes ” as my eyes flutter closed.
“Ah-ah,” he chides. “ Eyes . Be a good girl for me, Silver . Fall apart. Imagine it’s me filling you up. Thrusting into you. Could you take my cock in that greedy pussy? I know you want that. I’d be so good to you.”
Even in the heat of the moment, wordplay is our foreplay .
“Too bad this is a one-time thing. I should make it good for you then.” I shift to my knees, hovering above my hand.
The position causes the toy to hit me deeper, brushing my G -spot, as I gyrate my hips.
Arousal coats my hand, dripping down my fingers and onto the bed.
Booth is right there, watching my every movement with apt fascination.
Hips grinding in time with mine.
He’s laser focused on me, I’m not even sure he realizes what he’s doing as he grunts softly with each thrust into the mattress.
He’s losing control as he watches me unravel.
And that’s all it takes.
“Oh god.” Pleasure coils deep, pulling at my stomach muscles.
“ I’m gonna come.”
“My name. I want to hear my name. Let go for me, beautiful.”
Do I ever.
His name flies from my mouth, dancing with my cries.
“ Booth , fuck, right there.” I bounce on the toy with each roll of my orgasm, my movements sloppy as I succumb to the blinding pleasure.
His hot breath blows across my sensitive skin as a deep groan rumbles from his throat.
“ There you go. Look at you. So good. So good , Alessandra .”
It’s my full name on his lips that sends a final jolt of electricity to my core.
His head thumps against the mattress.
“ Fuuuck .”
We’re both panting.
My skin is slick with sweat, thighs sticky.
As the fog lifts, I don’t let myself question what we just did.
Not now. I’ll regret it later when we part ways.
I slump forward, legs collapsing beneath me, and watch Booth rise.
His cheeks are flushed, and my eyes widen when they fall to the dark patch on the front of his sweats.
Did he …
He laughs and drags a hand through his messy hair.
“ Well , that’s a first.”
Oh.
My . God .
Most men would be embarrassed, but I’m not sure Booth is capable of that.
Knowing that he came—without laying a finger on me, while fully clothed—reignites the heat between my legs.
I suddenly don’t know where to look.
A touch to my face pulls me from my thoughts.
With a hooked finger, he raises my chin.
“ You okay?”
The care in his voice and expression tug at something deep in my chest. It’s a weird feeling.
Foreign . He shouldn’t be concerned about me after this, right?
How can he go from despising me one second, to domineering the next, to this?
“I’m fine.” My response is clipped, but he doesn’t react.
“Good. That was—” He coughs into his fist, cutting himself off.
“We don’t need to talk about it,” I say, and grab my pajamas.
“ We actually shouldn’t.”
He frowns, eyes off to the side as I dress.
“ Right . Yeah . One time.” When he looks at me again, his smile is watered down.
“ I’m gonna get some more wood and then I’ll make us lunch. You like smoked salmon?”
“Sounds good.”
He watches me for a second.
It’s safer if I don’t say anything.
When he opens the door, the blast of freezing air is a wake-up call.
I need to get out of here.
Because the look he flashes me before he steps over the threshold isn’t filled with loathing or annoyance.
No, it’s something much worse.
He wears the same infatuated expression I saw that day at the fair.