Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
—Alice, Alice in Wonderland
Alice dared me to sneak into her room. Damn me if I’m not up for a worthy challenge.
I’m also a prisoner of my obsession. They say acknowledging a problem is the first step toward recovery.
Fuck. That. I never want the cure for my addiction to Alice Knightly.
I relish this madness coursing through my veins like lightning striking every nerve as I wait for everyone inside Tiger Lily to go the fuck to sleep.
That Alice wants me to sneak into her room probably means there’s some deep psychological shit going on in her beautiful brain, but I guess that’s why we fit together so well. So, yep, if she needs me to be her very own personal creeper, that’s what I keep on being—and love every second.
No, wait, correction: her very own personal harmless creeper.
To be honest, staring up at her window from this vantage point makes me doubt my own already questionable sanity. Each second ticks over me like razors slicing at my flesh—exactly like the first time I snuck inside the manor. Only now that I know she’ll welcome me, the expectation is much better.
Depending on the perspective, this situation can either get better or worse.
Finally, the house goes dark, but I wait a bit longer because I can’t be too cautious.
Need to make damn sure Katherine and Harrison are tucked away and sleeping soundly.
Stalking Alice is all fun and games until I’m staring down the barrel of Harrison Wentworth’s loaded gun—and I know for a fact that man owns more than a few shotguns.
He might be a right, proper Englishman and all that jazz, but he’s a crack shot at the range.
After an eternity, I slip on the balaclava and creep from the Dodge.
Scale the gate and slink across the lawn.
Then I’m at the tiny child’s cellar door, unlocking it and shimmying my brawny ass through the damn thing.
I’m stealth as fuck as I tiptoe up from the basement and across the ground floor, up to the next level, and down the hallway to Alice’s bedroom.
The fresh, citrusy scent of her perfume hits me as I inch open the door.
I’m not exactly quiet as I shut and lock the door, smiling at her soft snores.
Good Lord, she sleeps like the dead.
Minding her business, I use my phone’s flashlight to admire the artwork around the room, paying close attention to the work-in-progress sitting lonely on the easel.
It’s coming along nicely, almost brought fully to life and ready to be placed among the other drawings.
When I swing around to Alice—my marvelous, magnificent Malice—I find her curled under the pink blanket.
Everything about her is a temptation, from the silvery hair spilling across the pillow to her body’s gentle rise and fall with each slow and steady breath she takes.
She’s delicate yet strong, tiny but fierce.
A force of nature wrapped up in an itty-bitty person brave enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with me.
And believe me, I sure as hell put her to the test growing up.
The floorboards creak as I approach the bed, and with blood rushing and heart hammering, I watch Alice toss on the mattress, twisting the blanket around herself.
Frustrated at now being tangled, she huffs.
Turns again. She opens her eyes and lies on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling.
And when her lovely expression contorts into a frown, I swallow hard, anticipating her imminent discovery of my presence.
I watch as she sits up, her sleepy gaze wandering the moonlit room.
The blanket falls away, revealing a faded yellow T-shirt with a big-ass sunflower smack in the center.
Shocking for my little Gothic queen, but okay, I love these tiny surprises.
Pink bedding. Yellow pajamas with a flower.
My girl keeps me on my toes. Makes me wonder what other fun wonders I’ll uncover the deeper I dig into this older version of her.
Alice shoves the hair away from her face and takes a deep breath as if she can sense me, smell me, and feel each shallow exhale I release as she pans the room.
When her gaze lands on me, those lovely, luminous eyes widen in shock—in fear—before those lovely blue eyes narrow and a languid smile spreads across her mouth.
“You’re here,” she breathes.
“You dared me,” I remind her, my words muffled behind the balaclava.
Alice chews her bottom lip before saying, “I didn’t think you’d come.”
I tsk. “Liar, liar.” I inch closer to the bed. “Should I check to see if your pants are on fire?”
The feisty woman lifts her chin defiantly. “I’m not wearing pants.”
Instant.
Raging.
Hard-on.
I take another step closer. “Because you knew I’d come.” Her silence says everything. I step even closer. “Because you hoped I’d come.”
“Yes.”
I put a knee on the edge of the bed. “Yes, what, Alice?”
“Yes, I hoped you’d come, Maddox.”
I climb on the bed and use my body to force her back down on the mattress. “Nothing will ever keep me away from you, not even you.”
I brace myself on one arm and lean my face closer to hers, but when she reaches out to pull my mask up, I pull away, ripping a delightful little groan from her.
“Maddox, please…”
“I made a promise, remember?”
“What?” She looks adorably confused. “Promise?” Her frustration is charming when I turn my head to evade her grab for my mask. “Jesus, Maddox, just kiss me already!”
“Oh, sweetheart, I intend to.” I press my forehead to hers. Nuzzle her nose with mine. Brush her lips through the balaclava. “Kiss me,” I demand.
For a moment, she hesitates, and then she does as commanded. The sassy little wench licks the mask. In answer, I grind my hard cock against the juncture of her thighs, pulling a whimper from her. She rocks her hips up to meet mine, and it takes all my control not to shove myself deep inside her.
“Satisfied?” she asks.
I huff out a laugh. “Not even close.”
Her frown is adorable. “What more do you want?” She slams her arms against the mattress as I ease myself off the foot of the bed. “Where are you going? Why are you being so—oh, my God, Maddox! What are you doing?”
Smirking behind the balaclava, I grab her ankles. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know, how about being a pain in my ass?” she retorts.
“I’d love to be something in your ass,” I fire back, loving how I can see her deep blush even through the dim light of the moon streaming in through the French doors.
I yank her to the edge and drawl, “Think real hard, Malice, and I’m sure a smart woman like you can figure out where I intend to kiss you. ”
“No, Maddox, stop! Oh, God,” she groans, struggling to yank her T-shirt down because when I spread her legs, I discover Alice was true to her word—she’s not wearing pants.
Or panties.
She gasps and tries to close her legs when I lean in close, but I’m bigger and stronger and not above being a bully when the occasion calls for it. I grip her thighs and hold her open, marveling at the lovely sight of her, and when she attempts to block my view with her hands, I knock them away.
“Stop,” I snap. “I want to look at you.”
She slaps her hands over her face. “Please, I’m so embarrassed.”
“You’re perfect, Alice,” I tell her. “The loveliest woman I’ve ever seen.
No one on this whole earth is more beautiful than you.
” And it’s not like we never had sex before.
It’s just been a minute since we were together.
I rip off my mask and toss it away. “Now, stop being ridiculous and let me give you the kiss I owe you.”
Alice lowers her hands. “What are you talking about?”
I give her an exaggerated pout. “Wow, really? I can’t believe you forgot already.”
She props herself up on her elbows to shoot daggers at me. “Stop teasing. I don’t like it.”
Oh, I haven’t begun to tease her.
“Fine,” I say with a dramatic sigh. “At Folly House, I promised to kiss you.”
I give her a second to think, to remember, and when she does, her jaw goes slack, and she shakes her head. The wily woman tries to squirm away. “No, absolutely not.”
What a predicament she’s in, because I still have her by the ankles. She’s not going anywhere. “I’m a villain right down to the nasty bits and pieces, yes?”
“Yes,” she squeaks, and I bite back my laughter.
“But I’m also a man of my word. Isn’t that true?” When she remains stubbornly silent, I inch my hands up to her thighs and widen her legs.
“Yes!” she whimpers.
“Good girl,” I praise. “Tell me what promise I made you.”
She cringes but says, “The next time we were alone, you weren’t kissing my mouth.”
I lay one hand on her belly. I remove my hat and toss it to the floor with my other hand. “See, now that’s where you’re wrong.” Kneeling, I force open her legs and fit myself between them. “Lie back, Alice.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“If you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have dared me to come here tonight.”
Her hard swallow is audible, and I can almost hear her internal battle.
Years ago, she didn’t have to fight this war with herself, but now…
Now, everything is changed, and although she’s almost there, Alice teeters on a razor’s edge.
One side of the blade is me, and the other is misery.
She fears that she’ll get cut no matter how she leans.
I see that truth in her eyes, and when I give her a gentle push back, her elbows give.
She flops back on the mattress in surrender, a little whimper escaping her lips.
“I’m afraid,” she whispers.
I trail my hand down her body, resting it on her abdomen. “Of what?”
“That my heart will break all over again.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “No, baby, not this time.”
It didn’t have to shatter last time, but I don’t say that out loud.
“Promise,” she rasps.
I cross my heart. “I swear it on my life.”
With her eyes locked on the ceiling, Alice nods. “Okay.”
“Okay, what, Alice?”
She licks her lips, her body stiff as a board. “Okay, to whatever you want to do.”
I snort out a laugh. “Baby, you look like I’m about to slaughter you.”
Alice pops up, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and with a cringe on her face. “Sorry.”
I crawl back on the bed and give her a long, hard kiss. Then I push her back down. “Relax. Don’t complicate this.” I lift her shirt and kiss her navel. “It’s just a kiss.”
I watch, fascinated, as Alice runs the tip of her tongue along the seam of her lips. I feel it like a physical touch up the shaft of my rock-hard cock. Her entire body shudders, and on a broken sigh, she whispers, begging so prettily, “I don’t want just a kiss.”
If this woman asked me for every drop of blood from my veins, I’d bleed myself dry for her. “What do you want, Alice?”
“You, Maddox.” She looks down at me, tears in her eyes. “I want you.”
“You have me. You’ve always had me.”
She covers her eyes with her hands, as if she can’t bear to look at me when she pleads, “Please, Maddox, never let me go.”
Jesus…
Fuck.
“Never.”
And I’ll make damn sure I’m worth the price she paid to say that.