Chapter Twenty-Four Euan
The walk back to Alex’s apartment is quieter than the walk to the diner. I almost regret putting him on the spot like that, but I need to know what he actually wants. That he’s not just following whatever pace I set.
Alex pauses in the middle of the sidewalk and looks at me.
I scan his face, trying to predict whatever conclusion he’s come to before he says anything, but for once it’s blank, as if he’s steeling himself for the conversation ahead.
Maybe he’s decided he wants nothing to do with me. That we’ve already complicated things enough, and it would be better to separate now, while we can still untangle ourselves.
If that’s the case, I should probably pack up and leave tonight. No reason to draw it out.
“Euan, I want to fuck you.”
The statement is so blunt that all I can do is stare at him.
His cheeks flush and he mutters, “Shit, that came out wrong.”
My lips twitch, but I suppress a chuckle, worried he’ll think I’m laughing at his distress. “It’s alright. I asked you what you wanted.”
He runs a hand through his hair, mussing his curls. “I know it’s a shitty thing to say, but that’s kind of … all I want right now? And if you’re not okay with that, I completely understand—”
I close the distance between us. “It’s fine. That’s how it started, right? We both wanted no-strings attached sex.”
He nods and tries to smile but it’s more of a grimace.
“I really don’t ever do this … sex without romance, I mean.
But I’m not ready for anything else. Not after everything with Theresa.
I feel like I’m just starting to figure myself out again, and I’m afraid that if I jump straight into another relationship, I’ll fall right back into old habits. That I won’t be doing it for me.”
“Is that how your previous relationships usually go? Always putting your partner’s needs before your own?”
Alex grimaces. “I don’t know if I’d put it like that …”
There’s a silent ‘yes’ in that answer, but even now he doesn’t want to paint his exes in a bad light.
I brush a curl off his forehead. “Then let’s focus on what you want. Do you want me to get a hotel again?”
He reaches up and grips my wrist tight, as if he’s afraid I’ll leave before he’s even answered. “No. I like hanging out with you.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds. “For this week, at least. After that …”
“We can figure things out as we go,” I agree. “Then I’ll stay. Did you like today? Having breakfast and dinner together?”
“Yeah, breakfast was nice.” A mulish expression overlaps with his shyness as he insists, “But I’m cooking tomorrow. I just need to go grocery shopping first.”
I almost offer to go with him before I swallow the words.
Grocery shopping may not be ‘romantic’ exactly, but the domestic task would blur the lines too much.
Especially with the marriage still tying us together.
“Alright. So you want to fuck and you want to eat breakfast together. What about in between?”
“In between?” He blushes and lowers his voice, as if too scandalized to speak about the topic, “Like … cuddling?”
“Yeah, like cuddling. Sleeping in the same bed. Is that too much for you?”
“I don’t know. Can we play it by ear?”
“Sure,” I agree easily. “You set the pace, Alex. I just need you to tell me if things are going too fast for you.”
“I certainly won’t ghost you and leave you stranded at an airport,” he replies, scowling on my behalf.
I laugh, startling myself with the sound. God, who knew I could find that whole situation funny so soon after it happened? “Yes, at least text me, even if it’s from the other side of the couch.”
He nods, his expression solemn and serious, like he’s vowing loyalty rather than agreeing not to be a dick. The furrows in his brow are so deep that I want to smooth them away with a kiss, but I don’t know if that’s allowed.
“What about kissing?”
Alex’s gaze immediately drops to my lips, and he licks his own. “Yeah, kissing … kissing is great.” As if he can’t wait any longer once that’s on the table, he grasps the back of my neck. The slight pressure pulls me down while he leans up to close the distance.
A fat raindrop splashes against his face and he startles, stumbling away from me. We both look up at the sky, clear earlier in the evening, now dark with storm clouds. “Shit.”
The rain begins falling in earnest, cold despite the warm night. I grab Alex’s hand and start running. We’re only two blocks from his apartment. If we’re quick—
Not quick enough. Rain pours from the sky, drenching us in seconds. A car driving beside us turns its hazards on and slows down, hoping to wait it out. The downpour is so thick, I can barely see what’s in front of us.
When we reach the last street to cross, the light is red, of course.
I wrap my arm around Alex and tuck him close to my side, as if that’ll do anything to keep the rain off him.
Belatedly, I realize the gesture might be too intimate, but then he wraps his arm around my waist and leans his head against my shoulder.
Like he’s right where he wants to be, rain and all.
The pedestrian sign finally turns on. Alex shifts, ready to run again, but I hold him back. A driver speeds past, splashing through a rapidly forming puddle as they run a red light. Alex tenses next to me, his breath a sharp inhale, before he whispers, “Fuck, that was close.”
The pedestrian light begins counting down, so we have to hurry if we want to cross, but we still look both ways for any other reckless drivers hidden by the storm.
Once we’re sure it’s clear, we grab hands again and run across the street.
We don’t stop running even once we’re in his building, racing straight up the stairs to his apartment.
When we make it inside, Alex collapses against the wall, breathing hard from exertion.
I should let him catch his breath. Change out of his wet clothes.
Warm up in the shower. But seeing him like this—cheeks red, panting, soaked clothes clinging to his skin and outlining his slender frame, hinting at pebbled nipples—all I can think about is stripping him bare and fully exploring our new dynamic.
I approach him slowly, giving him plenty of time to move if he wants to, and rest one hand on his hip.
Alex glances up at me through his wet lashes. Then he winds his arms around my neck, plastering his chest against mine.
We should talk, probably. Finish our conversation, know exactly what we’re getting into before we begin.
But then he threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me down while he leans up that last inch.
The moment our lips touch, all practical thoughts flee from my mind.
All that’s left is the urge to take this man and give him everything he wants in return.
While our bodies are cold, the inside of his mouth is blazing hot, searing my tongue. I sink into the feeling, tangling our tongues together, until I’m branded by the taste of him.
On the edge of awareness, I feel chilled fingers pluck at my waterlogged shirt, struggling to peel it from my skin. He pulls away just long enough to mutter a disgruntled, “Off” before I chase his mouth, kissing him again.
Alex splays the fingers of one hand over my stomach, contenting himself with that small touch, while his other hand works on the button of my jeans.
I can’t let him do all the hard work. I kick off my shoes, clumsily shoving them to the side. No matter how hard I try to keep the kiss intact, we separate for a brief second, long enough for Alex to release a breathy laugh.
I surge forward to swallow the sound, licking up the traces of it. The laughter turns into a moan, and I swallow that too.
His hands pause as he melts into my embrace, too focused on our kiss to remember his other task.
I could stand here all night. Kiss him until he can’t remember anyone else. Engrain this memory into him so that every time he walks through his front door, he thinks of me. Even when I’m gone.
But then the shivering starts. Not the trembles of pleasure but the hard, almost violent shudder of cold. If we don’t warm up soon, we might both end up sick. When I think of spending my visit in his bed, I picture us lucid and energetic.
With one last kiss to his swollen lips, I finally pull away, resting my forehead against his. “Shower?”
Alex nods eagerly, triggering another shiver. “Together?”
I chuckle softly. As if I’m letting him out of my sight one moment sooner than I have to.
The trip to the bathroom is slower than it should be because we’re trying to walk, strip, and kiss all at the same time.
Wet clothes smack against the floor as each piece is tossed carelessly away.
We collide with the dining room table on our path of destruction, Alex almost tumbling onto the surface.
With a little push, I could spread him out before me like a feast. Maybe next time, when I can’t feel the goose bumps trailing over his skin.
I wrap my arm around his waist and walk him backwards to the bathroom, keeping my other hand free to feel for any other obstacles in our path.
Outside, the storm is picking up. Rain slams against the window and lightning flashes. Thunder crashes in the distance and Alex turns away from me, his eyes wide as he looks outside. “Shit, it’s really getting bad out there.”
“Good thing we’re in here,” I murmur, pressing kisses across his cheek and jaw, down his neck, biting down into the tender flesh.
Alex gasps and tilts his head back, giving me better access. One hand tightens in my hair while the other digs fingers into my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispers.
“Like that?” I ask, dragging my tongue over the shallow bite mark.
He nods shakily, but his throat bobs, like he’s nervous. “But I can’t go to work with hickeys.”
Shit, of course not. What would his subordinates think? I guess I’ll just have to place them where no one else will see.