Chapter 9 Paige
PAIGE
I can't believe I'm doing this.
It's late, well past midnight, and the office is empty and dark. Everyone else has gone home hours ago, leaving just me and Alex to work on some last-minute tweaks to the MindMeld algorithm.
At least, that's what we're supposed to be doing.
But instead, we're pressed up against the wall of the server room, Alex's hands tangled in my hair and his lips hot and insistent on mine.
I don't know how we got here. One minute we were arguing about the best way to optimize the code, and the next...the next we were tearing at each other's clothes, desperate and hungry and aching for contact.
It's always like this with us. One spark, one moment of friction, and we're up in flames.
I gasp as Alex's teeth graze my neck, his tongue soothing the sting. My hands clutch at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt.
"Alex," I breathe, my head falling back against the wall. "We shouldn't...we can't..."
But even as I say the words, I'm pulling him closer, my hips grinding against his in a desperate bid for friction.
He groans, the sound vibrating through me like a physical touch. "I know, I know. But god, Paige...I can't stop thinking about you. Can't stop wanting you."
His words send a shiver down my spine, a rush of heat pooling low in my belly. Because I know exactly how he feels.
I can't stop thinking about him either. Can't stop craving the feel of his hands on my skin, the taste of his lips on mine. It's like he's a drug, and I'm hopelessly, helplessly addicted.
His hands slide under my skirt, his fingers tracing the edge of my panties. I moan, my hips bucking against his touch.
"Please," I gasp, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Please, Alex..."
He doesn't need to be told twice. He tugs my panties aside, his fingers sliding through my slick folds. I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as he strokes and teases and brings me right to the brink.
And then he's lifting me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he presses me against the server. I can feel him, hard and hot and ready, straining against the fabric of his pants.
"I need you," he growls, his lips finding mine in a bruising kiss. "I need to be inside you, Paige. Now."
I nod, my hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. He helps me, shoving them down just enough to free himself.
And then he's thrusting into me, filling me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as he starts to move.
It's fast and frantic and desperate, all teeth and tongues and grasping hands. We're both chasing our release, both so close to the edge we can taste it.
And then, just as I'm about to tumble over...he says it.
"I love you," he gasps, his face buried in my neck. "God, Paige...I love you so much."
I freeze, my heart stopping in my chest. He loves me. Alex Spencer, the man who's been driving me crazy for months, the man who makes me laugh and cry and scream with frustration...loves me.
And I...I don't know what to do. Don't know how to respond, don't know how to process the emotions swirling through me like a hurricane.
So I do the only thing I can. I pretend I didn't hear him.
I turn my face into his neck, my teeth sinking into his skin as I let the pleasure take me. I shatter around him, my body shaking and my cries muffled against his shoulder.
He follows me over the edge, his hips stuttering and his fingers digging into my thighs. And then we're both collapsing against the server, spent and boneless and gasping for air.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound is our ragged breathing and the hum of the machines.
And then Alex pulls back, his eyes searching mine. "Paige," he says softly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Did you...did you hear what I said?"
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."
He stares at me for a moment, hurt and confusion flickering across his handsome features. But then he blinks, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Right. Of course. Heat of the moment and all that. Forget I said anything."
I nod, relief and disappointment warring in my chest. Part of me wants to grab him, to shake him and demand that he say it again, that he mean it. But the bigger part, the part that's scared and scarred and oh so cynical...that part is grateful for the out he's given me.
So I force a laugh, sliding out of his arms and smoothing down my skirt. "Already forgotten," I quip, my voice light and breezy even as my heart clenches painfully. "Now, about that algorithm..."
And just like that, we're back to bickering, back to the easy rhythm of sarcasm and snark that we've perfected over the months. But even as we trade barbs and jabs, even as we slip into our well-worn roles of bickering coworkers...I can't shake the memory of his words.
Can't forget the way my heart stuttered when he said he loved me, the way my breath caught in my throat and my world tilted on its axis.
Because as much as I want to deny it, as much as I want to bury it deep and lock it away...I know that I feel the same way. I love him. I love Alex Spencer, with every fiber of my being.
But I can't tell him that. Can't let him see how vulnerable I am, how much power he has over me. So I do what I always do. I push him away, I build up my walls, and I pretend that I don't care.
It's only later, when I'm back in the safety of my apartment, that I let myself fall apart. I pour my heart out to Jamie over a pint of rocky road, confessing all my fears and doubts and secret longings.
"I'm falling for him, Jamie," I admit, my voice small and wavering. "I'm falling hard and fast, and I...I don't know what to do."
She sighs, pulling me into a tight hug. "Oh, honey. I know it's scary. I know it feels like you're jumping off a cliff without a parachute. But sometimes...sometimes you just have to take that leap of faith. Sometimes you have to trust that there's someone there to catch you."
I sniffle, burying my face in her shoulder. I know she's right. I know that love is always a risk, that there are no guarantees in this life. But god, it's just so hard. So hard to let myself be vulnerable, to open up my heart and trust that it won't get shattered into a million pieces.
So instead of taking Jamie's advice, instead of being brave and bold and taking that leap...I do what I always do. I make a list.
Reasons Why I Can't Be in Love with Alex Spencer:
He's annoying.
He's cocky.
He's a distraction from my work.
He's a player who flirts with anything in a skirt.
He's too charming for his own good.
He's a smartass who lives to push my buttons.
Did I mention he's annoying?
I stare at the list, a wry smile tugging at my lips. It's a flimsy defense, and I know it. A bunch of half-truths and rationalizations, a desperate attempt to convince myself that I don't feel what I so clearly feel.
But it's all I have. All I can cling to, in the face of the terrifying, exhilarating, utterly irresistible force that is Alex Spencer.
So I tuck the list away, a talisman against my own traitorous heart. And I vow to keep things casual, to keep him at arm's length, to never let him see how much he affects me.
Even if it kills me. Even if it rips me apart, piece by painful piece.
Because the alternative...the alternative is unthinkable.
Isn't it?