by T Gephart
“I sacrificed a virgin at midnight. It’s a little extravagant I know, but it’s working out well for me so far.” He grinned, waited until I was settled and then walked around to the other side of the car. “Were one of those guys your friend from the other night?” He threw out casually as he buckled in.
The other night?
It took me a minute to work out he was talking about my fake friend drink commitment, and the excuse I’d used to get out of dodge when I thought he might be part of a pair. And while it was tempting to validate my lie, using one or both of them as my alibi, it was pointless and would only lead to trouble.
“No, we just met this week. The three of us all started together and just sort of clicked. Amazing how quickly you bond when you’re down in the trenches.”
He nodded, starting the car and heading onto the main road. He didn’t plug in coordinates into his GPS, seeming to know exactly where the bar was. “So,” he eased in casually. “Is there a reason you don’t want me around your friends?”
I scoffed, choking back the panic. “Of course I want you around my friends. I just didn’t want to make it weird for you, have them asking questions about your brother?”
“Which one?” He cocked an eyebrow, his question valid.
“Eric I guess. I mean, they’ll all pretty famous now.”
He laughed, no hesitation as he answered. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t even make the connection. And when they do, they get over it pretty quick. I’ve had a lot of time to get used to it so it’s no big deal. Trust me, it’s easier for them to be impressed by Eric, Nick or Dave, than find out Roman is my brother. Why do you think I kept Larsson and didn’t do Pierce like he did? The man is a litigation machine. Trials, depositions—you name it, there’s nothing he doesn’t kick ass in. Harder legacy to live up to if you ask me.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded, thinking how weird it must be. “Guess it just really hit me about how hard it must be for you. Everyone wanting a piece for one reason or another, and all because of who you’re related to.”
He laughed, his wicked grin turning toward me. “You feel sorry for me?” The look on my face obviously giving him the confirmation he needed. “Tell me again how hard it must be for me?”
“Only you would think that is a good thing.” I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile.
His gaze returned to the road. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”
And there was a sentiment I could get behind.
ONE DRINK TURNED INTO TWO and our plans of leaving and getting dinner elsewhere were shelved in favor of ribs and wings and draft beer.
“So all of those guys are your brothers?” Mike’s eyes were wide, the family connection finally being discovered two hours in.
Alex slapped his hand dramatically over his chest. “Yep, it’s just my cross to bear.”
“And you grew up with all of them.” Mike’s attention turned to me.
It was my turn for the drama. “Yes, guess that was my cross.” I laughed, slapping my hand on his chest and liking the excuse to touch him.
Stefan swallowed his beer, picking up a wing and pointing it accusingly. “And you didn’t go into acting like the rest of them? What a waste of that pretty boy face.” He chuckled as he took a bite.
Alex didn’t even break a sweat, taking the good-natured jab. “My face didn’t get me a 179 on my LSATs or help me graduate in the top five percent of my class at Berkeley Law.”
“179? It wasn’t his face he wasted. Berkeley? Really?” Mike looked horrified.
Alex groaned, looking up to the ceiling. “My God, you people are all the same.”
Stefan shook his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You mean smart people? If so, yes, we’re all the same.”
“Well, I think it was fantastic he did what he wanted to do.” I took a sip from my oversized mug. Cheap beer always went right to my head and I needed to remember that before things started getting blurry. “And clearly it hasn’t hurt him. Just look at him.”
I meant his job.
His position at Young, McMillian and Walker.
I’m sure he was kicking ass and taking names, earmarked for a fast track to greatdom. But as I gazed dreamily at him—my decision to stop drinking a touch too late it seemed—it was obvious to me he was successful in all areas. Currently, he was successfully wearing the absolute hell out of that suit.
“Yeah, yeah. He’s fantastic.” Mike rolled his eyes before looking back at me. “But just so we’re clear, he’s not part of our crew.”
Alex raised a brow in interest as his fingers picked up a delicious looking BBQ rib.
Its saucy goodness dripped down his fingers.
I involuntarily licked my lips.
“Your crew?” he asked, bringing the rib to his perfect mouth and I had to force myself not to stare at the man while he ate.
“Mike decided we needed to start a gang, makes it harder for them to pick us off one at a time if we’re looking out for one another.” I laughed, the idea sounding more like prison survival under my beer haze. “But you don’t work with us so you have to find your own back up.”
Stefan raised his palm, seeming to give the idea some thought. “Now let’s not be too hasty. Always good to have someone in another firm. Never know when you’re going to need a favor, or a lookout on another cell block.” He laughed, on the same wavelength with my earlier analogy. “Let’s call him an alternate.”
Mike wasn’t convinced, but he was outvoted, Alex victoriously holding up his hands as I decreed him officially included.
We finished the rest of our dinner, the conversation easy between the four of us as they switched from beer to soda. I wasn’t driving which meant I was free to continue to drink, careful to keep myself sober enough so I didn’t do something stupid but loving the soft edges the cheap beer gave me.
It wasn’t just my mind and my mouth that loosened, so had my body. My head had rested on his shoulder at least three times and my hands had staged their own revolt, roaming with reckless abandon.
Alex didn’t seem to mind, not moving the fingers that had inexplicability become attached to his thigh under the table. Not sure how they got there, it had definitely not been premeditated.
He was just so . . . everything. The unrelenting assault of his body and his face just really unnecessary, there was no one on earth who could forget he was hot.
There was a flutter in my stomach, a tightness I couldn’t explain as I looked at Alex. He was so relaxed, at total ease around people he’d met a few hours ago and a woman who had been undressing him in her imagination for at least a week. Yeah, I should probably not admit that, saving that little nugget of information for myself as my skin heated unnecessarily.
Must be the booze.
I excused myself, shuffling out of the booth on my quest to find the bathroom. Not that I had any idea where it was but I was confident I could find it.
Alex’s body blocked my exit as I pushed up beside him, waiting what seemed like an eternity before he stood and let me out. His hands steadied me as my heels dug into the crunchy carpet underfoot. I didn’t bother inspecting it more closely, fairly sure I’d be finding Hepatitis C in between the synthetic fibers.
“You good?” he asked me, his fingers lingering around my waist. I was tempted to tell him that I wasn’t and insist he act as ballast until I made it safely to the stall.
Not sure I’d ask him to stop when I got there either.
Lord.
I wasn’t even really drunk, just looking for a convenient excuse.
“All fine.” I nodded, resolving for my thoughts to be cleaner than the carpet.
My body pushed through the crowd of mainly men, their attentions on brightly lit large screens that covered the walls and hung from the ceiling above the bar. I ignored them, both the men and the screens, as I found a flashy red sign that advertised the bathrooms. It was loud like the rest of the place, its big letters pointing the way in a shouty abrasive f
ont.
The low ratio of females in the bar did have some perks. Apart from not having their unwanted glares on Alex, it also meant there was no wait at the bathroom. Not that I had plans to spend any quality time inside, the sepia colored walls not having seen a dust cloth since the turn of the century.
I was in and out like a member of SEAL team six, washing my hands and using tissues from my purse rather than touch anything else. My mind still muddled as I made my way back to the booth.
Mike was tossing some cash onto the table as Stefan chatted to Alex—the crew had decided to disband while I was gone.
“Hey, I’m going to bail.” Stefan tipped his chin to me. “See you bright and early on Monday.”
Mike nodded as well, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “Yeah, me too. This was fun though, we should do it again, even with the ring-in.” His eyes went directly to Alex.
“Yeah, it was pretty fun. Let me just cover the rest of the check. ” My hand reached into my handbag, ready to pull out some cash.
Mike shook his head, looking pleased with himself. “Nah, I took care of it. I had to fight the other two off but I was successful.”
“I’d say threatening to get your Judge Daddy to report us for suspected illegal drug use was a little extreme to be honest,” Alex scoffed.
Stefan agreed. “Yeah, more a shakedown than us actually agreeing.”
“It got the job done.” Mike waved his hand, ignoring them both.
They said goodbye, disappearing into the sea of people as I stood beside Alex.
Alone.
Well, other than the hundred or so people in the bar but they didn’t count.
“You ready to go? Or do you want to hang out a bit longer?” His hand pressed against my back as he leaned into my ear. The move was totally unnecessary, I’d been able to hear his regular modulated voice perfectly. But I loved it, absorbing each point of contact and letting his breath tickle my neck as I turned toward him.
“We should go,” I answered, not even attempting to be considerate and offering to call a cab so he wouldn’t have to drive me home.
I wanted him to drive me, wanted to spend more time with him—that the two of us would be alone while we were doing it was even better.
He nodded, lifting his head away as he guided me to the door. Thankfully, he kept his hand in place, the heat of his palm spreading through the fabric of my dress as he pressed. It was good, but not even close to what I wanted.
To save myself from admitting any of it out loud, I pretended to be tired on the way home. Resting my head against the side of the door and closing my eyes as he drove me to my apartment. The thoughts festering along the way, growing inside of me until I could hear them inside my head as clear as my own voice.
Kiss him
Just once.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Reason wasn’t really part of the equation, the idea of kissing someone whose feelings for me I wasn’t sure of, was risky at the very least. Not to mention that while he clearly stated he didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t say he was going to bed alone, saying his prayers and vowing celibacy either. And lastly, there was the option that he possibly didn’t even want to be kissed, the idea of my lips on his might repulse him. I mean, I hadn’t sent a man screaming into the night yet, but I was only twenty-six, there was still the chance it could happen.
On and on the warring thoughts tumbled, stretching out with each mile with no clear resolution as we weaved through traffic. It was only after we’d stopped that I peeled an eye open, rolling my head to the other side of the car to look at him.
I shouldn’t have done it.
The streetlights only amplified what was already a ridiculously attractive face. His blue eyes darker in the shadows, his perfect jaw cut through the light in a symmetry that didn’t seem real. He was so fucking beautiful I wanted to weep at the unfairness of it all.
He cut the engine, not asking whether I wanted him to walk me up as he moved out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. The door opened, reaching for me like a wingless angel in a tailored suit as I blinked back at him.
Oh hell, I was going to need to kiss him.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I strategized my plan as we walked to my front door. I’d get him up to my apartment, kiss him and then if it was totally terrible, push him out the door. It wasn’t a good plan, but I figured it was all I had. What I didn’t have was a contingency for a good kiss, something I wasn’t even daring to hope.
It would almost have been easier if it were bad, able to push those feelings of longing and wanting to the side with a reality that it wasn’t that good.
A good kiss?
A kiss that he reciprocated?
I might combust just thinking about it.
“You still on east coast time?” He finally broke the silence as we climbed the stairs to my apartment, his hand on my back graduating to an arm around my waist.
If tone had a grin, those words would have been wearing it. Oh, I’m sure he was asking me something, but it had nothing to do with my circadian rhythm. More probably, why are you acting like a weirdo? But I wouldn’t take the bait.
“Possibly.” I fake yawned, fumbling with my keys as I tried to open my door like an axe murderer was in pursuit.
It was a race against time, not wanting to lose my nerve or spook him at the last minute so he said goodbye to me on the threshold. No, I needed him inside so I could kiss him, and the longer I took the less chance that had of happening.
The worn wooden door finally gave way, making me stumble inside into the dark. Under the guise of being clumsy, I pulled him in with me and shut the door behind us.
I didn’t bother with the lights; it would be easier without them.
It was now or never.
I just needed to—
What the hell?
His mouth was on mine but I hadn’t moved, my eyelids peeling back in surprise as I tried to make sure I hadn’t hit my head when I fell through the doorway. It was really dark, and it might have happened.
Nope, I was not only conscious, but getting kissed like hell by Alex Larsson.
Oh my God, I was going to die.
My back hit the wall as his hands traveled roughly up my body, his mouth exploring mine as the shock wore off and I started to participate.
In my dreams, it hadn’t been as amazing. The feel of him—all of him—pressed against me, made me feel like champagne was coursing through my veins.
My skin—electric.
My core—about to explode.
“Yes.” The word bled out from between my lips as my fingers threaded themselves into his hair. My tongue met with his, our breaths shared as we consumed each other.
It wasn’t slow or romantic, teeth clanged and lips were bitten as we played a kissing game of to-and-fro. Robbed of our sight, every touch so intense I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or awake.
He groaned, a heavy breath pushed out of his mouth as he pressed against me. Of course he was bigger, his frame not only a foot taller than me but he had more than eighty pounds on me too. The two of them combined made me feel like a Hobbit, minus the hairy feet.
Pushing him outside the door was no longer an option, the idea buried with my other bad ones like stopping my mouth from being on his.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
Arching into him as the hard ridge of his pants pressed against my hip, his lips moving down my neck.
“Oh my God.” It came out of my mouth, as I reached down between us to touch him. “You’re kissing me.”
My fingers palmed the front of his pants as best they could, hindered by material they really didn’t care for as they stroked his impressive length. He was big all around it seemed.
“You’re kissing me back.” His teeth nipped at my collarbone before his mouth moved back to my lips. “And did we want to go into what your hand is doing or are we done with commentary?”
He didn
’t get an answer, the hunger ravishing us both as we rubbed up against each other like an ancient mating ritual while we stayed fused at the mouth. Pretty sure we were going to leave an imprint in the drywall like a prehistoric fossil, but it was worth losing my deposit over.
It felt so good, every receptor in my body igniting like he’d hit the master switch. I was turned on, hot, and so needy I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so unhinged. I’d never begged to be touched, but there was a very real possibility I was about to start.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” His hands reached under my ass and lifted me up against the wall. The hem of my dress slid up like he’d commanded it, exposing most of my thighs and probably my underwear if there’d been any light to see it.
Turned out he wasn’t interested in the color of my panties, the hard length of his cock pressing against my throbbing center as his hips rocked against mine.
Somebody groaned—probably me—his hard-on hitting me just right with every thrust of his hips.
I was going to come.
Come fully clothed while my childhood best friend dry humped me against the wall.
It should have been wrong—having feelings about him like that—but nothing had ever felt more right.
I wanted him.
And holy hell did it feel like he wanted me.
I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, the sensations too much as I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed his neck. “God, you’re so hot. How the hell did you get so hot?”
It was a rhetorical question, earning me a chuckle as his fingers teased at the edge of my underwear. They stayed on the respectable side of an invisible line, taunting me with each feathered touch.
“Do it,” I moaned, “Touch me, please.”
I didn’t recognize my own voice—reed thin, weighted in desperation.
And then as quickly as the hurricane had engulfed me, it blew itself out. His hands, his lips, the press of his erection—all stopped as he stood in front of me panting.
“I need to stop.”
He probably could have saved himself the words considering he’d already done that.
