Chapter 19 #2
I shrivel on the coffee table. I’ve been waiting six hours for this conversation. But there’s no way he would have said any of those things to me had he not been under the influence. I have no right to make him talk about it. I pick at a defect in the distressed wood next to my thigh. “Um, sure.”
With a halfhearted smile, he stands up and folds the throw haphazardly over his arm, then drapes it over the back of the couch. He takes his cup and walks to the kitchen. “Thanks for staying last night. You didn’t have to,” he says, as if it made no difference to him either way.
Oh, no. I’m not about to let him keep me at a distance now. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after getting a glimpse of what could have been. The pure lust in his eyes. The taste of his lips. His hands mapping my body, claiming me.
I plod after him. “I know I didn’t. I wanted to. I’ve been wanting—”
He presses his finger to my lips, his eyes clouded with turmoil. Like he’s having an internal battle with himself and both sides are losing.
One thing is for damn sure: I’m not about to let his fear get in the way of us.
Or his pride.
“Turn around,” I say, a startling amount of conviction in my tone.
Surprise flashes in his eyes, but I stand my ground, crossing my arms. When he doesn’t move, I lift my eyebrows. I’m waiting. With a wry smile, he finally turns, facing away from me.
I blow out a deep breath. “In high school, I had a massive crush on you.” I lick my lips, then force myself to say the rest. “Actually, before that. Since the day you gave me your sweatshirt … when I got my period at your house.”
He nods slightly, as if he remembers the day.
“I slept in that sweatshirt every night. I didn’t wash it for a whole month because it smelled like you, and I didn’t want that to fade away.
” I wrinkle my nose. “But then it got gross, and I had to. The last time I wore it was the night before I came to your house. To ask you …” I gulp as a massive boulder lodges in my throat.
“To ask you to have sex with me. Not because it was convenient, but because it’s all I’d been fantasizing about. For five years.”
His shoulders twitch, but he keeps his back turned. So I suck in a breath and force myself to keep going.
“When you said you were flattered, my heart didn’t just break, it shattered.
I felt so stupid for asking you. And even dumber for thinking you’d say yes.
I was hoping you’d finally see me for the woman I’d grown into, but I knew the truth.
That I’d always just be Charlie’s little sister. That you’d never—”
He turns, threading his fingers through my hair and tilting my head up in one smooth motion as his mouth crashes against mine. There’s no warning, no time to think. Just his lips, his tongue, and his urgency, stealing my breath.
As passionate as our first kiss was, it’s nothing compared to this one.
Each swipe of his tongue is a confession.
An admission. A declaration. Letting me know he returned every ounce of my affection, not just now, but then.
His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer, until every part of me is pressed flush against him.
A deep groan rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my lips.
My knees buckle and he grips me tighter, supporting my weight with his.
Tingles rip up my spine as I rake my fingers in his hair, kissing him back with every repressed emotion I’ve buried the past fifteen years. This whole time, he liked me back. The whole time.
Slowly, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine. “I’ve always seen you, June.”
The statement obliterates my center of gravity, and I melt in his arms. He walks me backward until my legs hit something that gives a little, then I gasp as he bends down, sweeping my legs out from under me and setting me on his kitchen table.
He captures my lips again, hard and fast, kissing me breathless.
Of their own accord, my fingers grasp the first button on his dark blue dress shirt, and he smiles against my lips.
I manage to pop the first one open, but with his mouth unrelenting on mine, my fingers are utterly useless, clumsy and fumbling over the fabric.
This shirt needs to come off. Now. A frustrated growl escapes me as I pull back so I can focus, and he chuckles, his warm breath grazing my cheek.
One by one, I flick the buttons open, revealing his toned chest and abs.
Hot. Fucking. Damn.
I run my hands over his tanned skin. As much as I’d fantasized about Alex when I was in high school, the man in front of me is definitely not the tall, skinny boy who grew up next door.
He’s broader now. Filled out. So unbelievably solid.
The light dusting of dark hair on his chest unlocks something primal in me, and I lean forward, biting the base of his neck.
His sharp inhale vibrates under my lips, his fingers grasping my waist, anchoring me.
Or maybe he’s anchoring himself. I slide the shirt over his shoulders, dragging my lips across his collarbone, his rough exhale making me shiver.
He fists my T-shirt, his eyes smoldering. “Can I take this off?” he growls.
I’ve always been nervous when a guy is about to see me naked, especially the first time. Maybe it’s my small breasts. Or worse, that as much as I hate to admit it, I still have some residual shame lingering.
But I’m not nervous with Alex. I answer with a slow nod, lifting my arms. When he tugs the shirt over my head, the harsh coolness of the morning seeps over me, peppering my skin with goosebumps. I shiver, reflexively crossing my arms and running my hands over my biceps.
Gently, he peels my hands away, slipping them behind his neck, his fingers skating up my bare back. He brushes his nose along the edge of my jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.”
And hot damn, does he deliver. His sizzling tongue trails down to my collarbone, his teeth skimming the sensitive skin as he slips my left bra strap down, then the right.
His gaze meets mine in an unspoken question, and I reach behind my back, unhooking the clasp.
Delicately, he slides the generously padded cups down.
I hold my breath, waiting for a hint of surprise, or worse, disappointment. But there’s only reverence in his eyes.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he rasps, his hands roaming over me in a decadent exploration, caressing, squeezing.
A woosh of air leaves my lungs as I tip my head back.
Having Alex’s hands on me is more indulgent than I could’ve imagined—the gentle stroke of his thumb, the wolfish hunger in his eyes.
Then he leans down, circling his tongue around my nipple, teasing it with his teeth.
I gasp, arching into him. His hands slide around to my back, drawing me closer as his mouth drifts all over—my neck, my chest, my breasts.
All I can do is close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, urging him on.
His hands find their way back to my breasts, his lips trailing down, lower, lower, little spurts of electricity zapping me under his touch. Then his hand hovers over the top of my jeans.
God, yes.
He pops the button open, pressing a kiss right below my navel.
I’m ready to tear my pants off, but Alex is on a completely different wavelength.
Slowly, so unbelievably slowly, he drags the zipper down, following the path with his lips.
He tugs the waist of my jeans and I lift my hips, allowing him to slide the rough denim down my legs.
His hands pause on my lacy thong, and he tilts his head. “This whole time, you’ve been wearing these panties?”
My face flames, and I avert my gaze. “I like to wear sexy underwear. It’s like I have a little secret.”
“You’ve worn these to the office?” he sputters. “To class?”
“And on our road trip,” I say slyly. “When we slept together.”
He skims his hand over the delicate fabric. “If I’d known you were wearing these in bed that night, I don’t think I could have kept my hands off you.”
I bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes. “You didn’t.”
He groans, as if I’m not playing fair. Then he sinks down, kneeling on the tile. My breath catches as he slides the scrap of lace down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my inner thigh. He spreads my legs, already trembling with anticipation.
“Ever since I accidentally heard you,” he says, slowly circling my entrance with the tip of his finger, making me squirm, “I haven’t been able to get those sounds out of my head.
I kept picturing what you looked like. If your eyes were closed or rolled back, if your mouth was open, or if you were biting your lip.
” My entire body throbs with need, and I moan, attempting to grind against him, but he eases the pressure of his finger, driving me mad.
“All I want to do is hit the right spot to get you to make those sounds again.” He leans closer, licking his lips.
“And I want to do it over and over until you come.”
As hot as the words are, the mention of making me come makes me freeze like I’ve been doused with ice water, and I stiffen in his grasp.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” he asks, pulling back.
Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck. I shake my head, wishing I could dissolve. “Nothing’s wrong, keep going,” I say, tapping his shoulder.
He chuckles, his puff of breath hitting my thigh as he stands up. “Nothing’s wrong?” He pins me with a skeptical look. “Nice try.”
I sit up, waving my hand. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
“June,” he presses me again, his eyes pleading. “Talk to me.”
What is wrong with me? I’m ruining the hottest moment of my life.
And now I’m suddenly aware of the fact that I’m very naked.
I cross my arms, desperately glancing around for my shirt.
Alex sighs, bending down to pick it up. But instead of sliding it on, I lay it over my torso like a blanket. “I don’t want to stop,” I say urgently.