by L A Pepper
As soon as we got into the taxi, in the dark of the interior, Alexandra leaned into me, pressing a searing kiss into my mouth, her lips desperate. I felt every inch of her desperation; like a woman dying of thirst in the desert, she needed that kiss. She shoved me back against the seat and climbed on top of me, to kiss me deeper.
“Hey,” I said, against her lips. “Hey, it’s okay. Slow down.” I put a hand on her cheek and stroked her soft lips with my thumb. The glossy red lipstick was already gone. I was probably wearing it. Her lips were pink now. Pink and real. I gentled the kiss then, softly touching her bare lips with mine. And again. She sighed, letting the tip of her tongue trace over my lips, before kissing me again, a whisper of a touch now.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling that whisper down to my toes. I sat up, bringing her with me. “Yeah.”
She tangled her fingers in my hair and pressed her lips to a spot under my ear that made me shiver. “I never do this. This isn’t me.”
“No?” I asked, encouraging her to say more. I wanted anything she’d give me.
“I don’t get out much, I don’t meet men.”
I didn’t ask her about who she was supposed to meet in that bar. A spike of jealousy told me I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want her to have been meeting some other man in that bar. She’d been there to meet me. I was who she was meant to meet. “It’s okay,” I said, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“But I want to,” she said, her voice broken, so far from the poised woman who had fixed everyone with the cold stare in the bar. “I want to, but I don’t do this. This isn’t me.” She clutched at my arms.
“You still want me to take you home?” She nodded into my neck. “Mmkay.” I ran my fingers through her hair. It was like silk. Warm and dark. Wrapping tendrils around me. I kissed her temple. “We’re almost there. Whatever you want, okay. This is fine. We can just talk if you want.”
She whimpered into my skin and I was not proud of how that made me want to throw her down on her back and take her right there in the taxi but luckily it pulled up in front of my building right then.
“We’re here,” I told her and she nodded, looking at me consideringly before grabbing me and dragging her fingers over my lips.
“You have lipstick everywhere.”
I did the same to her, holding her jaw in my fingers and drawing my thumb over her full bottom lip. “You didn’t. I just wanted to touch you.” She laughed and I took her hand and led her into the lobby.
“This is a really nice building,” she said as the elevator doors slid closed with just the two of us inside. “Expensive.”
“I, uh, I inherited this apartment,” I told her, feeling suddenly embarrassed as I got out the key and inserted it in the elevator button. The penthouse was mine. The whole penthouse floor was mine. In California, I’d lived in a little bungalow on the water and that had been enough luxury for me. But here in New York City, I was back in the life that glittered. The life I’d tried to leave behind without actually letting it go. This apartment alone was worth millions of dollars, and that didn’t even take into account the decorator that my mom had hired when she found out I was coming home. I didn’t want to bring that up right now. It made me feel somehow like a fake.
“Penthouse,” she said, her eyes calculating. “I thought you said you weren’t one of those guys in that bar. Those rich guys who wanted to buy me.”
I put my key away. “No. I said I was trying not to be one of them. People aren’t for sale. No matter how much money you have.”
“And you have it.” She sounded suspicious, not pleased about it. Not predatory.
I lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I try to do what I can with what I have.”
“You have a lot.”
I nodded but didn’t want to argue. Now that I had her alone, I had to admit that I wanted her, that I wanted her so badly it was hard to keep my hands off of her. So I didn’t try anymore. I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards me. She stumbled into me, utterly graceless, a dark blush coloring her cheeks.
“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed.
“I”m not,” I responded, cupping the back of her neck and kissing her deeply. She whimpered… That was the sound that made me want to devour her… and she clutched at my shoulders, kissing me back.
It only lasted a few moments before the elevator door dinged and slid open. I lifted my head. “We’re here,” I said. I’d known it wouldn’t take long. I just had to have her. “Home sweet home.”
I took her hand and led her into the foyer.
“Home sweet home?” she said, her heels clicking against the marble floors. “I think this is a castle in the sky.” She stopped at the painting that the decorator had made the centerpiece. “Is this…” she pointed at the landscape. “Is this a Cezanne?”
“You know art, then.”
“Just a little, but…” she raised her eyebrows in surprise. I liked her better without the red lipstick. “Cezanne. That’s, um. Pretty impressive.”
“Inherited also.”
“Ah,” she said. “Penthouse. Cezanne…” she looked across the living room at the expansive New York City Skyline views. All said money. There was really no way to hide it. She didn’t seem to be impressed by it. She shouldn’t have been. “I think you might be a king, Jordan.” It was teasing, but not complimentary. It felt worse.
My stomach roiled. “Don’t call me that.” A dark rage rose in me. She saw it. She saw everything.
“Hmm. Perhaps we don’t talk about ourselves.”
“No?” I was still getting myself – and anger that had been simmering for a while – under control.
She shook her head and walked towards me. Stalked me. Then she stopped, out of my reach. “No. Like I said, this isn’t me. I don’t do this.”
“This?”
“Go home with handsome billionaires I don’t know.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” I knew many of them. They were rotten.
“I know. And I shouldn’t be here. But I’m letting myself. Just this once. Because I want to.” She swallowed as if it were hard to admit. “Because I want you.”
“You can have me,” I said. I already felt like I was hers.
“For one night only.”
“For one–” It was like a punch to the gut. I didn’t want just one night. But she stood there, her nerves in her eyes, ready to run. She really didn’t do this often. The elegant queen from the bar was not her. She’d dispatched all those men with ease, but there was no ease now, there was just hunger and longing and…sadness. I took a step toward her. Loneliness. I wanted to ease her loneliness. “For one night,” I agreed. I’d see if I could change her mind. For now, I’d agree. “We can do one night.” I smiled. “It’s going to be a great night.”
She let out a shaky breath and then took the last few steps into my arms, kissing me hungrily. I tried to get my hands on her but she pulled my jacket off and started working on my tie, yanking it over my head, nearly taking my nose with it. I laughed as she tackled the buttons of my shirt. “You’re a wild thing. I like it.”
She blushed and grinned up at me. “Jordan, I don’t do this. It’s been a really long time for me. I’m slightly eager.”
“Yeah? Well let me help you then,” and in moments my shirt joined the tie and jacket on the floor.
She growled deep in her throat. “Wow. You’re beautiful,” she said and ran her hands over my chest and abs hungrily. “I didn’t expect anything like this in that bar full of old pervs.”
“Hey, to be fair, I’ve been salivating over you all night, too, I just have better self-control.”
She shook her head. “No. You treated me like a person, not a piece of fancy-dressed meat.” She let her hands run down my chest once more and then looked at me wickedly. “So you get the reward.” She reached to her side and unzipped the dress before I could even help and it crumpled to the floor. She stepped out of it and my jaw dropped. In her dress, she had looked
gorgeous and curvy and sensual. Out of it, she looked like a goddess.
“Eager is good,” I said, and reached for her, bending down so I could kiss the top of her breast over her strapless lace bra. So soft and good. I needed more. I swept her up into my arms.
She gasped and giggled. “Jordan! I’m too heavy.” She hung on to my neck as if she were afraid I’d drop her. Never.
“The hell you are,” I growled. “You’re perfect. Perfect in my arms. Perfect in my bed.” I took her down the hall into my bedroom and tossed her down onto the bed.
She bounced and laughed. “Pants. Take off your pants.”
“You always have the best ideas, Alexandra.” She frowned as I stripped off my pants and underwear and climbed up next to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I didn’t want any frowns.
“Don’t call me that. Call me Alex.”
“Alex?” Yes. The name fit into place. “Alex. I like it. I would also like you completely naked, so let’s finish this job, hmm?”
She nodded, her eyes large and nervous, lifting her hips for me to slide her panties down her long, shapely legs. I kissed the inside of her knee and the fluttering gasp she let out made me rock hard. Everything about her made me want to possess her. I didn’t let her look away as I kissed my way up her thigh. She nodded, as if to herself, then reached behind her back and unfastened her bra.
“Oh my god,” I said as she released the most perfect breasts in existence. I rose above her so I could take the rose-colored nipples in my mouth and taste her. “Beautiful, beautiful,” I murmured into her flesh. “Beautiful.” She moaned and threw back her head, no longer able to keep eye contact and I wanted to make her lose the last of her restraint. I wanted to make her melt into me. My fingers found her wet heat and she arched up off the bed. She panted and gasped, and I wanted more.
I nuzzled her cheek, her jaw, her neck as I drew her higher with my fingers. “Kiss me,” I said. She turned her head, her mouth seeking mine, her hands grasping at me, clawed into my muscles. “Alex…”
I swallowed her ecstasy, her cry filling me as her orgasm broke through her, raising her to her peak and then spiraling down, until she remembered herself in my arms, against my lips. “Wow. That was nice.” She laughed huskily. “I’m pretty sure I saw fireworks.”
“Fireworks, huh?” I believed it. She was sparking something in me, had been all night. I’d never felt like this before. I nodded, wanting more. “I’m not done yet.” I stroked her side, hip to waist to breast, her curves and soft, welcoming skin entrancing me.
“Oh, good.” She tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled me on top of her, wrapping her divine legs around my hips. “Fuck me,” she whispered, reaching down our bodies for my cock. “I can’t wait any longer.”
I caught her hand in mine. “We have all night, Alex. We’re not going to rush.” This was worth more than a quick fuck. She was. I was going to give her everything she was worth. I kissed her hand.
“But I can’t wait,” she panted and reached for me again.
A soft growl rose up in my chest and I kissed her. I couldn’t get enough of her kisses. “You don’t have to wait,” I said as I slid into her, and there was that whimper again. I breathed through the rush of desire, of longing. I never wanted this to end. “But you don’t do this often,” I kissed her and pulled back when she tried to make the kiss deeper, “so we’re going to take it slow, and I’m going to make love to you until you don’t know where your body ends and mine begins.”
She froze, the warm golden-brown of her eyes dark like buckwheat honey, her full pink lips open, she almost looked scared for a moment, then the emotion melted into something more secret, a precious thing that she opened up inside of herself and offered to me. Her breath slowed and deepened. This time when she reached for me, all her hard edges were gone. “Yes,” she begged.
I smiled and kissed her and began to move inside of her. This was just the beginning.
* * *
When I woke up, the first thing I knew was a sense of joy. Something in me had shifted. I had found what I was looking for.
Who I was looking for.
Alex.
I turned to her in bed without opening my eyes, wanting to keep that feeling of completeness, warmth and…was it love?
My searching hands met cool, smooth sheets. Empty.
I opened my eyes. Alex was not there.
“Shit.” I sat up, the sheets falling to my waist. “Alex?” I called, hoping beyond hope that she’d gotten up to, I didn’t know, make coffee or something. There was no smell of coffee brewing. My heart sank. The joy dissipated. Instead, I felt dread. I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and found my boxers on the floor. Pulling them on, I called again. “Alex?” Dammit. There was no answer. I looked at her bedside table. There was nothing. No note. No sign that she had even been here. I checked the bathroom. No Alex.
The morning sun poured in through the wide windows of the living room. She wasn’t there. There was no puddle of elegant white dress where she’d let it drop. No purse. No note. No phone number.
Alex was gone. I didn’t even know her last name.
Chapter Three: Alex
I woke up when the sun was still a red smudge on the horizon of his glamorous skyline view. Jordan lay beside me in bed, looking like a fairytale prince in this castle in the sky. But the ache in my muscles and zinging along my nerve endings every time I glanced at him told me that none of this was a fantasy.
“Oh my God, what did I do?” I whispered to myself and then winced as Jordan mumbled and rolled over onto his stomach. Even his back was beautiful. I resisted the urge to touch him and rolled out of bed, landing on my hands and knees on the deep carpet of the bedroom floor. I crawled around a little, trying not to make a noise, gathering up my underwear. Where was my dress? Oh, I remembered. The living room. He lived alone, didn’t he? There wouldn’t be some roommate catching me naked and on the floor looking for my dress, would there? Did billionaires who lived in penthouse apartments with Cezannes on their walls even HAVE roommates? If I were a billionaire, I wouldn’t. I took the chance and snuck out of the bedroom. Billionaires didn’t have doors that squeaked, thank goodness.
My dress was right where I had left it, in a pile on the floor of the stunning and expansive living room, and I took a moment to get dressed before slipping into the bathroom. I scrubbed my face free of the remnants of last night’s makeup and found a soft old sweatshirt on the back of the bathroom door and tossed it over my dress. Not that I really cared about looking like I was on the walk of shame on a Sunday morning, but…I actually did. A sweatshirt over a white skirt and heels was less obviously “I got some” than a knock-out dress, at least. I grabbed a hairband from my purse, checking automatically that my gun was still there and the safety was on, and threw my hair up into a messy knot. I prayed that I didn’t need a key to call the elevator out of here. Did billionaires need keys to get out of their penthouse apartments?
They did not. The soft chime of the elevator button went off without a key, and I froze, hoping the sound wouldn’t wake Jordan. Or maybe I was hoping it would. Either way, the elevator came and I was walking out onto the too-bright streets, and Jordan didn’t wake up to stop me, to entice me back to bed, to ask for my number, or to kiss me goodbye.
It was better that way, right? I stood on the sidewalk for longer than I’d have cared to admit, wishing he’d woken up before I left, before my location registered in my brain. Upper West Side. The Hudson River shimmered right through the trees. My grandmother lived only a few blocks from here. No more than a ten-minute walk. I could pick up muffins and coffee and pick up Trini on my way home. But there was no way I was going to show up at Abuela’s house to get my nine-year-old daughter after leaving my one-night-stand’s house. Instead, I walked to Broadway and hailed a cab and settled into the seat of the car, heading for home.
Hours later, after a hot shower and coffee and changing into my oldest and comfiest jeans, a t-shirt and a
pair of converse high tops, I was getting off the subway and knocking on Abuela’s door, muffins in hand.
“Morning!” I singsonged, trying to pretend everything was normal, although my heart was still feeling like it wanted to beat its way out of my chest. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I’d said that was just one night, that it was all we could have, but it felt like a night that changed something essential about me, about who I was, what I wanted, everywhere I could go from here. And that was just too much for me to deal with right now. “I brought muffins!” I used my key and let myself in the door. “I got you corn muffins, Abuela. Chocolate chip for Trini. You’re welcome.”
Abuela’s apartment was an old walk-up. Small and dark, and smelling vaguely like rice and beans all the time. It was a far cry from the wide-open views and sophisticated decor of Jordan’s apartment. A sudden flash of Jordan as he wrapped me in his arms filled my mind and I felt my skin heat.
That would absolutely not do. I picked up one of the coffee cups from the holder and took a deep drink. “Abuela, I brought you a cafe latte. Are the both of you still sleeping? What happened here last night to make you sleep so late?”
My grandmother came shuffling out of the back hallway, short and round and huggable and still dressed in her robe. “Shh, Alex. Trini is still asleep. She’s sick.”
I was immediately paying attention. “Sick? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Ai, you were working. I made an appointment for her to see the doctor at the new clinic that just opened up down the street. It’s good you’re here, you can take her. I was up all night with her.”
“Abuela!”
“She’s fine, mija. Take her to the doctor. He’ll give you something. Don’t worry. You always worry.”
“I’m a mother. I’m supposed to worry.”
“No, mija, you’re not. Relax. It’s just a little thing. She’ll get antibiotics and poof, all better.”
“Mo-o-om,” the call came weakly from the other room. My baby was sick. I felt a sudden guilt. I’d been out getting laid instead of taking care of my child. Never mind that I’d been working last night, and Trini had been with Abuela regardless of how I spent my time after work. I pushed down the reasonable thought and told myself I’d never do that again. Ever ever. I could just wait to meet someone until my child was all grown up. What was another decade alone? I swallowed down the heavy feeling.
