“I couldn’t see his face. Otherwise, I would have known him instantly.” She pictured Tolliver. Tall, dark slicked-back hair with a receding hairline. Dark eyes that were a little too close together for her taste and a smile that always seemed like a sneer. A small shudder went down her back. “He’s so grotesque.”
“My turn,” Mitch said. “It was you in the casino on the mezzanine, wasn’t it? You were wearing a black dress and a black wig. Not this one. The wig wasn’t quite as black and a bit shorter. And it was you on the balcony in Venice. I liked that dress much better. It showed off your…assets.”
She laughed. “Sharp eye. Yes, it was me. Doing recon in the Casino. You made me laugh. The takedown of the lady in red was epic.”
He feigned innocence. “She should know better than to come running at someone surrounded by security. How was I to know she didn’t have a weapon?”
She laughed. “It was pretty harsh. You could have been nicer.”
Mitch shrugged. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
“And yeah, it was me in Venice. You weren’t supposed to be on that balcony.” Alex scratched her head again. She couldn’t wait to take the wig off and dig her nails into her scalp.
“Neither were you.” He grimaced. “Just take the damn thing off. I know it’s bugging you.”
“I’m okay.” She scratched again.
Mitch rubbed his face with his hands. “You owe me a favor.”
Alex arched an eyebrow at him. “Pardon me?”
“The dance bar. I was better than expected, so you owe me a favor.”
“Really.” She sized him up. “And suppose I went along with it. What would the favor be?”
“Take off your wig, the jewelry, the make-up, and let me see the true you,” Mitch challenged.
“Why would I do that?”
“To humor me. I want to see what you really look like.”
She shook her head. “There are too many cameras around here. I’ve gone to great lengths to make sure no one has my image.”
“What if I promise to not share your image with anyone?”
She bristled. “Your credibility is questionable at the moment.” She was still having a hard time with what she thought of as his betrayal.
His face hardened, and he rose from the couch. Running his fingers through his hair, he started to pace back and forth behind the couch. “I never meant to hurt you. Friday, on the yacht. I wasn’t planning on having sex with you. I…was just happy you called. After what happened at the club, I didn’t think you would.”
“I had to. You were… I had a job to do.” She’d almost confessed that she was planning on using him to get into the party. Guilt washed over her. Here she was mad at him for doing to her what she had been planning on doing to him.
“Look.” Mitch stopped pacing and touched her shoulder until she looked at him. “It was my job to track you down and find out what you were after, but once we started talking, once we started getting to know one another, all that went out the window. Friday was all real. It was all me. I wanted to be with you, the real you, the you that told me about your parents. I wasn’t trying to use you or humiliate you.”
She knew he was telling the truth. It was in his eyes. They were worried and sad and tired. She just wanted to grab him and hold him tight. She knew in that moment that he was being real with her. She had been humiliated on the yacht, but it stemmed from fear. She’d relaxed and opened up. She’d been herself, and it had scared her.
It still scared her. Her racing heart was proof of that. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. What could she say? How could she tell him it was real for her, too? Too real.
She took a deep breath and started pulling off all the jewelry she was wearing. She put it on the end table next to her. Then she took a handful of tissues from the box on the table and poured some water from her bottle on them. She wiped her face until the makeup was gone. She took out the contacts and threw them on the used tissues.
Finally, she pulled off the wig and then undid the pins that were holding her hair up. Her waist-length, blond hair slowly unraveled. Then she stood up and turned around to face Mitch. He wanted the real her. Well, here she was.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mitch stared—mouth open stared. Alex was extraordinary. There was no other word. He’d seen her eyes before, but now they glowed like emeralds. Her skin had a luster he’d never seen before. The dusting of freckles over her nose and cheeks just made the red of her lips more prominent. Her hair was stunning. He’d never particularly been a long-hair man, but he was blown away by hers. It was like spun silk shining in the firelight. All he could think of was how much he wanted to run his fingers through it.
“You are so beautiful. Your hair is…exquisite.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. “This is the real me. Alexandra Buchanan. That’s my whole name. Being Alexandra Buchanan is hard. I got tired of life being hard, so I created a whole persona around Alex Morgan, thief, and I’ve lived it for a long time now. But you’re being real with me, so I want to be real with you.”
Mitch’s chest constricted. He wanted to gather her into his arms and never let her go. He wanted to take away all the pain and loneliness. “I understand how hard it is to be without your parents. I was devastated when my mother died. I still miss her a lot. It must have been incredibly difficult for you being an only child and having your parents ignore you.”
Alex let out a bark of bitter laughter. “You don’t understand.” She shook her head. “My parents didn’t just ignore me. My dad liked my mom’s money, and when that wasn’t enough anymore, he left. My mother was devastated and never got over it. She vacillated between blaming herself and blaming me for him leaving.”
“Oh, honey. That must have been tough. I’m sorry you were so lonely.” Mitch ached to touch her and soothe away all of the hurt. He reached for her but she moved away.
“You wanted to see the real me? There’s more. Lots more.” Alex’s voice had a hard edge to it. It was the type of edge Mitch’s superiors used when they were about to deliver a harsh dressing down. He tried to brace himself for what was coming. .
Alex turned to face him. Her eyes were hard and her lips were in a thin line. “My mother committed suicide, and it was a huge relief. Did you hear me? It was a relief. No more yelling and screaming and, best of all, no more accusatory silence.”
She paced in front of Mitch’s desk. “I was happy at boarding school. Happy to be away from her constant emotional torment.
“The day the letter from my mother arrived, I waited until classes were over and went to my room. I remember my hands trembled as I opened the letter. I kept wondering if maybe she’d finally noticed I wasn’t in the house anymore. Maybe she actually missed me. But the joke was on me.” The bitter laugh was back, but this time it turned into a sob.
Mitch watched as Alex gathered herself. It was killing him to see her suffer like this, but he knew she needed to get this out.
Her shoulders straightened. “The letter was only two pages. My mother apologized for blaming me for my father deserting us. See, she had tracked down my father and asked him why he left. He told her it was her fault. She just wasn’t enough for him. She had driven him away.” Tears glistened on her cheeks. “Then she said there was no help for it, she just wasn’t good at being a wife or a mother. She wished me better luck in life and love. And that was it.”
Mitch’s chest ached like he’d been hit with a rubber bullet. Pain was etched on her face. If her mother was still alive, he’d have killed her himself. He reached out to pull her into his arms again, but she still resisted.
“They found her body in bed. She’d taken a bunch of pills. I remember when the headmaster told me. All I felt was relief, but that was the last quiet moment I had.
“The service, the funeral, what a circus. The press was everywhere. There wasn’t a moment when I didn’t have to be dressed appropriately or say the correct t
hing, lest we, the mighty Buchanans, would be portrayed as less than sympathetic in the media.
“I decided on the day of my mother’s funeral that once the circus died down, I would leave, I don’t know…Poof, just disappear. Create a whole new me.” She turned to look at him. “And that’s when Alex Morgan was born.”
Mitch frowned. “I’m confused. Why was the press interested in your mother?”
Alex sighed. “Because my mother was Cynthia Buchanan.”
“Jesus Christ!” Mitch fell back against the couch. It was the second time in the last half hour that he’d been totally blown away. Cynthia Buchanan was one of the richest women in the world. Her family, Alex’s family, were infamous. It was like being a Kennedy or a Kardashian. No wonder she ran from them. Nightmare wasn’t a strong enough word.
“You wanted the real me,” Alex said, “there it is. It’s not pretty, but it’s true.” She stood in front of Mitch’s desk. “I think I’ll go find—” She started walking to the door.
He reached out over the back of the couch and grabbed her arm. “Don’t go.”
Alex looked down at him. “It’s probably better if I go. My life is complicated enough.”
“Stay with me. I don’t care who your family is or that you’re a thief. I care…about you. Stay.” She had to stay. He needed to hold her. He wanted to see her like she was on the yacht, wild with joy and abandon. He wanted to give that to her.
She looked toward the doorway and then back at Mitch. She gave her arm a gentle tug. He reluctantly let go. He couldn’t force her to stay, but he wanted to. Badly. He cared about her. Hell, who was he kidding? He was falling in love with her. His chest was hurting as he watched her walk toward the door. He stood up and desperately tried to think of something, anything, that would make her stay but his mind was blank.. He closed his eyes and heard the door close with a soft click.
Then there was a second click. His eyes shot open. Alex was standing there, leaning on the door. “I didn’t want to be interrupted. Exposing my girls to the world was a one-shot deal. I’d rather keep them private if that’s alright with you.”
In one step, he was on her and had her pressed against the door. “More than alright,” he whispered. He slanted his mouth over hers, claiming her as his. She was his. His thief. His woman. He ran his hands down her back, cupped her ass, and hauled her against him. He molded his body to hers as her tongue twisted around his. He needed skin to skin contact like a drowning man needed a lifeboat.
Her hands started tugging at his jeans. It was too much. If she even touched him, he would lose control. He broke off the kiss and grabbed her wrists. He put them above her head and encircled the fine bones with one hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her breath coming in gasps. “I want to touch you.
“No. Not yet,” he mumbled as he dropped kisses on her collarbone. As he used his tongue on the hollow of her neck, she inhaled sharply. He did it again and again until she was writhing against him.
He slipped his free hand under her T-shirt and bra and cupped her breast. He stroked the nipple with his thumb. Claiming her mouth again, he kissed her hard, his tongue dancing with hers. He deepened the kiss as her hips ground against him. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his hips, trying to bring him closer. He dropped her wrists and picked her up. He carried her back to the couch and set her down. Then he lowered his weight on to her slowly.
“Can you breathe?” he asked with a smile.
“I’m out of breath, but it has nothing to do with you crushing me.” She claimed his mouth and fisted her hands in his hair. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing his hard-on in direct contact with her core.
He could feel the heat through her leggings. She started rocking her hips against him. She found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He shifted his weight and finished taking it off. It landed on the floor next to the couch. Her T-shirt and bra soon followed.
His body touching hers was heaven. His hands cupped her breasts as he kissed his way down her neck to the valley between her breasts. She arched up against him. He playfully tugged at her nipple, and when she moaned and protested that he was driving her crazy, he claimed the sensitive nub with his mouth. His tongue, alternated between swirling and sucking. She called out his name. She was his. His alone.
His tongue was driving her to the edge of reason. She needed him to stop. She needed more. She’d never experienced anything like this. His skin on hers was exhilarating. She arched her hips and rubbed against him. She reached down and fumbled with the button of his jeans. She ached to touch him.
He brought his hand down and tried to brush her hands away. “No.” His voice was rough.
“Yes.” She kept fighting to get the button undone.
“No. If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop. I want to see you come first.”
She loved how is voice rumbled out of his chest. His eyes were smoky gray and his breathing was irregular. She loved that she did that to him. “Mitch, I need to touch you. I didn’t…we didn’t get to do that last time.” She fisted her hands in his hair and locked eyes with him. “I want to feel you inside of me. I want to come with you inside of me. Do you understand?”
His smoky eyes glowed with a feverish light. He growled something intelligible and got up swiftly. He took a condom out of his wallet and then shucked the rest of his clothing in seconds. He covered her with his body again and then claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss. She could barely breathe. His hands pushed down her leggings and her silk thong. She helped him until her clothes were next to his on the floor.
His weight excited her beyond anything else. She arched her hips up and wrapped her legs around him, rubbing her silky folds against the length of his cock. When he groaned, she did it again. The pleasure from that limited amount of contact was exhilarating.
His hands gripped her ass and brought her closer. She angled her hips so he could slide inside of her, but he pulled back. “Mitch?”
“Don’t worry, honey, we can both have what we want.” He moaned again as she rubbed against him. He shifted his weight until he was kneeling on the floor and had her thighs over his shoulders. She bit her lip with anticipation.
When he blew on her hot center, her hips jerked in response. A grin lit his face.
“Mitch,” she gasped as he leaned down and captured her with his mouth. His tongue swirled, and she moaned. He put one finger inside her and moved slowly. It wasn’t enough. Her hips strained upward to his mouth. “More,” she demanded, fisting the sofa cushions to keep from screaming. Mitch alternated between licking and sucking while thrusting his fingers. He lapped and rubbed until her breath came in pants. She yelled his name as her thighs tightened and her body clamped around his fingers. She shattered as her orgasm exploded through her.
She peeled herself down off the ceiling. Her body was boneless until she saw Mitch’s smoky gray eyes watching her. Her core instantly tightened. She still wanted this man. “My turn,” she purred and sat up. She pulled him up to the sofa and climbed on top of him. She kissed his neck and worked her way down his chest. She teased his nipples, first licking and sucking and then nipping them. She loved the animalistic growls he made. She moved farther down until her mouth was level with his cock.
She let her tongue touch the very tip, then slowly she drew more and more of him into her mouth, sucking and twisting her tongue around his shaft as she went. His growling got deeper and rumbled out of his chest.
His voice was rough. “You’re killing me.” His hips started to move, but then he grabbed her and pulled her back up. “I want to come inside of you.” His eyes were two pools of gray silk. He captured her mouth with another scorching kiss. She moved until her overheated core was hovering above his hard cock. She gave him a slow smile. He reached out and grabbed the condom. Seconds later, she lowered herself slowly down on top of him. Inch by inch of exquisite madness.
She tilted her pelvis and started moving. Mitch groaned and grabbe
d her hips. He moved her more quickly up and down the length of his shaft. The delicious pressure was building inside of her. “Faster. Harder. More,” she demanded as she arched her hips to allow him to go deeper. Mitch matched her every move. “Oh, God, yes Mitch,” she yelled as he drove a final thrust inside her and they both went crashing over the edge.
She fell onto his chest and lay there panting as she tried to recover. Mitch’s breath was coming in gasps as well. His arms circled around her. As she lay there with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat return to normal, she admitted to herself she had fallen for Mitch. Hard. He was magnificent, and in so many ways her perfect match.
She swallowed the tears that were building in her throat. There was no life for her that ended in happily ever after. She could never escape her family name and all the attention that brought, but she could keep moving and maybe outrun it a while longer. She didn’t want to think about leaving or what that meant. She brushed those thoughts aside and lifted her head to meet Mitch’s gaze. “Round two?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alex woke with a start. It took her a second to realize the weight on her waist was Mitch’s arm. He’d held her to his chest all night. She took a deep breath. His musky scent made her want to snuggle down with him forever. She closed her eyes, but they popped open again almost immediately. She didn’t have that luxury.
She ever so slowly moved Mitch’s arm and slid off the sofa. She gathered her clothes, her wig and jewelry, and then stood up. Not wanting to wake Mitch, she moved over next to the door and got dressed. She slapped the wig in place. She reached over and grabbed her jacket off the back of the sofa.
She took another deep breath and steeled herself to walk out the door. Last night had been magical, beyond anything she’d ever experienced. When she glanced over at Mitch, it was almost her undoing. A wave of love so fierce crashed over her. She leaned against the door and blinked back the onslaught of tears.
Break and Enter Page 24
