Chapter 23
Alex
“Shouldn’t,”she whispers.
“That’s not what I asked.”
She stares at the glass in front of her like she’s studying it to find answers there.
“I think I might be developing a weird crush or something as a result of all this,” she says at last, waving her finger back and forth between us and looking like she’s not thrilled to be admitting it.
“A crush?” I try not to sound too enthusiastic, but I need to know what she means by that.
“Yeah… I know we’re too old for crushes, but I don’t know what else to call it. I think it’s just that I haven’t really dated much since the divorce and then you’re here, and you’re… a lot. It would explain the weird dream and the misplaced jealousy earlier.” Her eyes shift, sliding over me absently.
My eyebrow raises as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. Whether I’ve finally just heard a touch of the things I’ve been hoping to hear since I found out she’s single again. Or if it’s just incredibly late and I’m imagining the things I want to hear being said.
“Don’t get freaked out. I’m not going to turn into a fangirl. Trust me.” She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t like the way I’m watching her.
“I’m a lot?”
“Yes. And you know that, don’t play stupid.”
“I don’t even know what that means. You’ll need to explain it to me.” I don’t want to make any assumptions with her.
“Alex…” she sighs.
And the way she says my name, in this context after that confession, pushes nearly every button I have. I need more. I want to know what she’s really thinking and not the censored version she’s going to create.
Before I can think it through my hands are on her hips, bracketing them as I walk us both across the distance of the kitchen. Her ass bumps the edge of the island and we both come to an abrupt halt. Her warm perfect body so close to mine, only a couple of inches between us.
I’d fallen asleep reimagining things out on that terrace tonight. If Colt had never interrupted us and things had continued. If when we got back tonight, she’d asked me to take her out of that dress, come shower with her, or come to my room when she’d gotten out. I’d imagined every possible scenario before I’d fallen asleep. Which is why I’m hoping this one is real.
“Explain,” I dare her to finish her confession. To tell me what I’m fairly sure she’s been thinking for a while now. If I’m right that I’m not alone in this.
“I don’t know really. A crush. You’re you—Alex I mean. But you’re also you—the public version. I guess when I forget who we are to each other…” She pauses and looks down for a moment. “You look like you could fuck how you talk—like you don’t give a fuck about anything except getting what you want. So I remember the appeal sometimes. Okay?” she says defensively, nearly huffing the last sentence out like she can’t believe she’s admitting it to herself let alone me.
I try to suppress the smirk that comes.
“You’re half right.”
“Half?”
“I’d fuck you like I don’t give a fuck about anything but giving you what you want.”
She swallows hard and looks past me. A nervous little flick of her eyes and I can feel the tension roll off of her.
“Like I said… a lot,” she whispers.
“So take what you want,” I offer.
She looks at me again, her eyes passing over mine slowly this time before she looks away again.
“I couldn’t enjoy it.”
“Why not? Because of him?” I feel the rise of jealousy up my spine as I think of all the time he already had with her, and if he’s still going to stand in the way now it’s going to eat me alive.
“No. I don’t care about him. But I just… you’re too much, even if you wanted to, if I wanted to… I need a guy like the ones I was talking to before all this. Simple. Easy. My league. Training wheels and all that first. I’m out of practice with one-night stands, and I need a wading pool, not deep ocean water.” She waves her hand over me.
“Yeah… Look around. You’re already in the fucking ocean, Saint. But you can use me for practice.”
No fucking way is another man touching my girl. If she needs practice, I’m here any and every fucking time she needs it. I grab her and lift her up onto the counter, kissing her slowly, using soft teasing strokes. I’m trying to be gentle with her, give her the opportunity to stop me if she wants. But I need her to know that I’m here for anything—any dream, any desire, any practice—it’s me she’s using.
“I want you, so fucking much, Saint.”
The words must unlock something for her because a moment later she’s tentatively kissing me back. Like the practice kiss, like earlier tonight, she’s responsive when I give her the opportunity. Teasingly sweet like she’s nervous but shyly eager all at the same time. Giving me answering gentle pressure with her lips, as my hands slide down the sides of her hips and then over her bare thighs, and just like earlier tonight, she reacts to my touch. Like she craves more of it—like she wants more of me. My heart kicks up in response, desperate to please her and give her any little thing she wants.
“Alex,” she whispers when we finally break, staring down at the space between us.
The breathy way she says my name, the taste of her on my mouth, and the fact that I have everything I want sitting in front of me on my kitchen counter wearing my shirt and looking at me like she wants me has my cock hard and my stomach in fucking knots.
“You want to practice saying my name? We can do that too.” I smirk because I can’t help myself.
Her eyes flick up to mine, narrowing a bit but the desire is still there. It’s taking all my self-control to pace myself. To not grab her and drag her back to my bed, show her all the ways I can take care of her.
I lean down and kiss the side of her throat instead, needing something to focus on. Her hands are on me now, her fingers sliding over my skin, exploring my sides and I love the feel of it. A soft gasp comes out of her when I flick my tongue in the tiny valley just beneath her ear and I can’t fucking help myself when I open my mouth again.
“Or you want to practice coming on my tongue like in your dream? You can do both at once. You can start by whispering my name like that and we can see how long it takes to make you scream it.”
She sighs, “Christ. See…This is what I mean.”
“What?”
“The way you talk, the way you look. It’s too advanced for me.” But even as she says it, she looks at me like she wants to know what I feel like. Like she’s dying to have me put my hands on her.
“Yeah? You melting under the pressure, Saint?” I slide my hands up her legs. “Spread them for me and let me find out.”