Chapter Eighteen
I crept down the hotel hallway with Alex, trying my best to be as quiet as possible. It was four o’clock on Christmas morning, and no one would think my tired chatter was any sort of present.
“Let me just jump in the shower for the world’s quickest wash, I’ll change, and you can open your present before we head back to your parents’.
” Alex smirked as he glanced at me over his shoulder, his hand waving the key card in front of the sensor.
“I haven’t showered since I left my house yesterday morning, and I’m not about to offend your family.
Not now that I think they might like me. ”
The look he gave me as he opened the door was nothing short of entreating. Smothering a laugh, I nodded my head as I stepped over the threshold. “They love you, Alex. Don’t spoil their love by making Christmas morning smelly.”
His snort of amusement followed him into the room.
Alex headed to a suitcase propped on a chair in the corner, and he pilfered through its contents.
After a moment, he grabbed a T-shirt, cable-knit sweater (I appreciated the Chris Evans in Knives Out appeal), and a pair of jeans before he padded to the bathroom.
Plopping his pile of clothes on the vanity, Alex turned to meet my gaze. “I won’t be more than ten minutes.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “I have a video about Victorian women abolitionists and their Christmas bazaars to post.”
Alex met my gaze in the mirror. “Abolitionist Christmas bazaars?”
I smothered a laugh. “They helped shape American Christmas traditions.”
“Right.”
“Go shower,” I said, chuckling. “Fine-tuning this video will easily fill ten minutes. Take your time. I promise I’m fine.”
With a slow nod, Alex closed the bathroom door, and a moment later I heard the steady stream of the shower running. The sound conjured visions of Alex naked, running a foamy washcloth over his pectorals and down the flat planes of his stomach to his—
“That’s enough,” I hissed aloud, covering my face with my hands.
Alex may be undressed just feet away, but that certainly didn’t mean I had to indulge in fantasies of what he looked like—and sounded like—when he was alone.
Telling myself I was the world’s biggest creeper, I plopped down on the narrow love seat across the room from the bathroom.
With a determined huff, I pulled out my cell phone and tapped on the TikTok app, determined to post the Christmas video draft.
In less than ten minutes, the shower turned off, and my lips tipped up at Alex’s timeliness. But I was caught off guard when the door cracked open a minute later.
“There’s no fan in here, so I’m just cracking the door to let in some fresh air,” Alex said, his face peeking around the doorframe. “I’ll be out in a few.”
I nodded, although I wasn’t sure he saw the motion. Still, I glued my eyes to my phone, pretending it was the most important thing to me. In truth, every one of my senses was trained on the cracked door across the room. The cracked door that shielded Alex Castillo from my admittedly lecherous gaze.
And it was because of that focused attention that I was aware of Alex stepping in front of the vanity, applying moisturizer to his face, clad only in a towel.
A crisp white hotel towel that was strung dangerously low around his waist. So low I could see the dips of his hip bones and the sexy indentation at the small of his back that caused my body to flush as if they were an indecent invitation to sin.
Heat raged through my blood and coiled low in my core, and although I did my best to stifle it, my gasp rented the quiet, steam-filled air.
Somehow Alex’s gaze met mine in the foggy bathroom mirror, and he paused, as if suspended by magic.
The only way I would have been able to catch his eye through the crack in the door was if I had been staring at him through it…
and we both knew it. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks while shame twisted like a toxin in my belly.
But Alex wasn’t ashamed, for why else would he have turned to wrench the door wider?
With my mouth falling ajar, he filled the bathroom doorway, one arm gripping the doorframe above his head and the other gripping the knot that held the ends of his towel together.
Alex didn’t say anything; he merely stared at me, his brown eyes fervent and bottomless.
It took me several steps—and multiple heartbeats—to realize I had crossed the room to him.
It was as if my body moved independently of my mind, unhindered by the guilt and stigma that tainted all of my thoughts of Alex.
And when my feet stopped inches from his, it was that boldness that pulled my head up to meet his smoldering gaze.
We stared at each other, his pulse racing at the base of his throat and my heart churning like a sprinter’s, threatening to burst from my chest, before his lips formed the dearest words I’d ever heard. “My God, Sofia, I’ve wanted you for so long—”
And before I had time to think, before I had time to draw a breath, I surged up onto my toes and kissed him.
Alex stayed motionless for half a beat of my racing heart, and then his arms wove around me and his hand disappeared into my hair, holding my head still for his mouth to begin its assault on my senses.
On the very fabric of my being. For Alex didn’t kiss me; he savored me.
Every touch of his lips, every stroke of his tongue, every coast of his hand down my spine felt like a celebration.
A celebration that we were finally, finally, giving in to the attraction that simmered between us.
Or perhaps that’s what my traitorous heart wanted to believe.
Without thought, my palms smoothed along his naked torso before my fingers curled around his shoulders, drawing me flush with his body. I whimpered against his mouth as his hand curled under my ass and dragged me closer still.
When Alex eventually pulled his lips free, he pressed his forehead against mine, his ragged breaths fluttering against my face. “Sofia, I just…You leave me—”
Any words he meant to say vaporized when I dropped to my knees before him.
Alex glanced down the hard line of his body to meet my gaze. His eyes burned as they held mine, his chest moving up and down with the force of his breaths.
“Sofia,” he rasped, his trembling hand stroking through my mass of curls. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t know. From the first, I had responded to Alex in ways that made me a stranger to myself. But in this moment, with the memory of his touch on my skin, I wanted more. No one else mattered but him and me.
Holding his stare, I pried his hand from the towel and let it fall to the floor.
Somehow I managed to breathe around the knot in my throat…
that is until I dropped my gaze and almost swallowed my tongue.
I had received my fair share of dick pics, especially since my Matilda videos went viral, but I had never seen one that made me think, Wow, it’s beautiful.
That was until now. Until I raised my tentative hand and encircled his girth with my palm.
“Holy fuck,” Alex hissed, tossing back his head, the tendons in his neck stretched taut.
His response sent a fiery thrill up my spine, and I watched him intently as I tightened my grip, pumping my hand from the crown to the base.
His guttural moan was my reward, but I wanted more.
I’d held myself back for months. Wrestled and ignored how this man made me feel intelligent and witty and gorgeous every time I was with him.
Did my best to overlook how perfectly he fit into my family, like being dealt the last card in a royal flush.
For too long I tried to ignore how this man was mine in all the ways that mattered, and I refused to do it any longer.
I would beat myself up for my selfishness later; for now, I wanted everything I could get.
So I peered up at his face through my lashes as I brought the head of his cock to my lips and flicked out my tongue for a taste.
The shiver that rattled his body made me feel powerful.
Encouraged and emboldened, I attempted to bring the entire length of his cock into my mouth. Alex was too large for me to be completely successful, but just attempting to swallow him whole sent desire ratcheting through my body like lightning, especially because he was so responsive.
And I was determined to savor all his reactions, so I focused on his face as I set a rhythm with my mouth and hands. A rhythm that soon had Alex thrusting into my touch, his deep-throated groans echoing around the room.
I could tell when Alex was close because his whole body tensed, his thigh flexing under my fingers. Smothering a smile, I prepared to increase my efforts, but he wound his hand into my hair and gently pulled free of my mouth.
“If you think I’m going to come before I have a chance to taste you and make your thighs quiver around my ears,” he growled, “you don’t know me at all.”
Before I had a moment to process his statement, Alex grasped me under my arms, hauled me to my feet, and advanced on me like a jungle cat until the back of my legs hit the bed.
His dimple showcased a devilish grin as his broad palm settled on my chest and he pushed me backward, and I bounced on the mattress.
Alex inspected me, taking note of my red, swollen lips and the flush that seemed to encase me from head to toe.
But when I shifted on the bed, desperate to relieve the ache building within my core, his gaze narrowed and the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“Are you feeling as hungry as I am?” At my jerky nod, Alex chuckled, the sound dark and sinful. “Good. We’ve waited so goddamn long.”
With a hum, Alex reached a hand around my back to fiddle with the zipper of my jumpsuit. “I’ve fantasized about this moment an infinite number of times. Have you?”
His face was close to mine, his gaze hypnotic, and I whimpered in the back of my throat.