by Alice Raine
My eyes narrowed as I watched her pull off several sheets of kitchen paper almost viciously and bend forwards to wipe between her legs. Regret immediately simmered in my chest. I ran a hand over my face in exasperation about how much of a bastard I’d been. I’d fucked her, left her, and not even tended to her afterwards. She must fucking hate me. I pretty much hated me right now.
Desperate to see her face to try to judge her emotions I watched in rapt fascination as she tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling, then finally lowered her head and turned her body in the direction of the camera.
Despite our recent exertion she was pale as a ghost. She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes with the back of her knuckles. I felt my stomach drop as I watched her. Fuck. She was crying. Or she had been; her cheeks seemed drier now, but she just looked miserable, self-conscious, and pissed off.
I scratched nervously at the back of my neck. What should I do? Go back down and apologise? But that would no doubt add to her embarrassment and, seeing as I had no idea what I’d even say to her, it would probably make me look like even more of a dickhead in the process.
After taking several deep breaths, Allie walked to the fridge and took out the bowl of leftover pasta from my meal earlier. OK, this was good, she was calming down enough to eat. I knew she must be hungry, because I’d deliberately gone down early to dinner hoping to see her. I’d seen on the security cameras from the previous two nights how she always scampered through the lounge to avoid me, and so tonight I’d tried to catch her out. Not that it had worked, of course; she’d simply gone without dinner. Yet another reason to feel guilty. Christ, this woman had me in complete tangles. On the one hand, I was desperate to keep her away, but on the other hand I was practically yearning to be in her company. God, I was such a wreck.
Watching as she placed the bowl on the breakfast bar I noticed she didn’t even bother to re-heat it, instead she just slipped onto one of the stools before picking at the pasta shapes unenthusiastically. She must have eaten two tiny mouthfuls, maximum, before she pushed the bowl away miserably, chewed briefly on a fingernail, and stood up, tipping the contents of the bowl into the bin. Shortly afterwards, my screen went dark as she must have switched off the light and left the room, but stupidly I still found myself staring at the screen for a few more moments.
Throwing myself backwards in my chair, I let out a long, irritated grunt. So I’d fucked her, left her, upset her, and removed her appetite. I felt like the lowest, shittiest man alive. Which was probably because I was the lowest, shittiest man alive. This was not how you treated a woman, I knew that, and yet here I was, sitting in my office while she wandered back to her bedroom, alone and no doubt hating my guts. Fuck.
Curiosity had me rewinding the tape of our encounter. The first few minutes only showed half our bodies as we stood just inside the kitchen door and almost out of camera view, but still I watched, fascinated by the smooth skin of her arm that I could see and remembering the way her eyes had dilated and her cheeks flushed when she’d noticed my arousal.
She was so sweet, almost innocent in certain ways, but the sure, firm way she had cupped my erection and stroked me told me otherwise. My cock hardened now, as I watched where she had told me I could have her any way I wanted her. Fuck. That had almost done me in. I’d never had a woman demonstrate such trust in me, and it had felt incredible.
I wanted her in all ways, and deep down I was beginning to recognise a primal need in me that wanted her always. I’d never really met a woman that sparked my interest so deeply and affected me so dramatically, but she did. Allie. And now, after barely any conversation and just two brief sexual encounters, I was considering the possibility of a long-term future with her? It should sound crazy. But it didn’t. It sounded amazing.
On the screen I now watched the moment where I had bent her over the counter and wrapped my hand in that long, tempting hair of hers. That moment had literally made my previous night’s dreams a reality. I’d been worried that my tendency to dominate during sex might put her off, or scare her, but she had been just perfect, offering herself willingly, and eagerly meeting every one of my demanding thrusts with a push of her hips.
Closing my eyes, I sat silently for a second or two as my cock throbbed and jerked below the desk. I was so aroused that the temptation to jerk off was almost overwhelming, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead, I let out a disgusted breath at my pitiful behaviour tonight and deleted the footage. After the way I had treated Allie, I didn’t deserve a second of enjoyment, or even the pleasure of the memory of it.
Once the memory cards for the security cameras had been cleared, I shut the computer down and stood up to head to bed. Closing up my office for the night, I made my way downstairs to my bedroom, but paused as I passed Allie’s door. I wanted to see her so badly that it was almost an obsession. Perhaps I needed to see her to persuade myself that she was fine, or perhaps it was just to slake the growing desire I had to be near her.
Standing there for several seconds, I finally gave in to the need to see her and pushed open the door a few inches. Holding my breath, I stuck my head in and saw that the lights were off, and that she was lying on her side facing me. I froze for a second, wondering if she was still awake, but from the deep breathing I could hear in the dim room, she was almost certainly asleep.
Cocking my head, I watched her in fascination, realising that this was taking my stalker-like tendencies to a whole new level, but really not caring. It was becoming clearer to me that the thing I did care about was lying in the bed a few feet away from me. I cared about her, and hated the fact that I’d treated her so badly. The more I allowed this to permeate my brain, the more I knew that I was going to have to do something about this whole situation. We might only have met a short time ago, but the connection between us was blindingly obvious, and I knew I needed to speak to her, perhaps explain why I had been so reluctant to let my guard down.
For now though, I would indulge myself. Approaching the bed, I crouched down so I was level with her face. Even in her sleep there was a frown creasing her brow, and I once again felt guilt begin to twist and burn in my stomach. ‘I’m so sorry, my gorgeous girl. So sorry,’ I murmured, knowing the words were useless when she was so deeply asleep, but feeling the overwhelming need to say them anyway.
Suddenly, looking at her just wasn’t enough, and I found myself walking around the bed and crawling in behind her before I’d even realised that I’d done it. I moved as carefully as I could, hoping not to disturb her, and then gently folded myself so my chest was pressed against her back and my head was lying near the nape of her neck, where I could breathe in her warmth and scent. Letting out a content sigh in her sleep, Allie wriggled herself backwards, deepening our embrace until we were well and truly spooning, and I couldn’t help but grin. She was so warm, and she smelt amazing, all sweet and lush with just a hint of sweat and sex that remained from our frantic kitchen session.
Nuzzling my head into her hair, I breathed deeply, humming happily to myself. Regardless of my issues with relationships, I instinctively knew that this was where I was supposed to be. Here, with this woman in my arms. I didn’t even care if she woke up. If she did, I’d just apologise and hope that she would let me hold her until she fell back to sleep. Then perhaps in the morning we could talk. If I could get my head screwed on straight.
Relaxing against her, I slid an arm around her waist and closed my eyes, loving the sensation of having Allie in my arms like this. It felt perfect. I wanted to keep and protect her. Although I was also bitterly aware that after the way I had treated her in the kitchen, the person Allie probably needed protecting from the most right now was me.
NINE
Allie
Christmas Eve morning was finally here, and I woke feeling moody, miserable, and overly warm. I was also tangled in the covers far more than usual, and so I flopped onto my back to try and ease the twists of material that trapped my legs. Letting out a huff, I finally untangled my limbs and lo
oked at the bed in confusion. God, I had really thrashed around in here last night. Both sides of the covers were crumpled, and even both pillows looked used. How weird. Normally I fell asleep in one position and woke up pretty much in the same place the next morning. Although my subconscious had run rife last night, so I suppose that might explain it.
Grimacing as I recalled my dreams – or perhaps I should say nightmares – I wiped a hand over my face to clear the flopping hair from my eyes. As well as repeatedly dreaming about my steamy kitchen liaison with Sean, I had stupidly dreamt that he’d been with me in bed, cradling me against his body as he repeatedly apologised for his cold treatment. It had felt so real I’d almost been able to feel the weight of his arm around my waist and the heat of his breath on my neck.
How bloody stupid was I? Now, not only had I allowed myself to be used like his plaything – twice – I was dreaming up romantic endings to make myself feel better. Ugh. I was pathetic. Or at least I was when it came to him.
Letting out a disgusted grunt, I practically threw myself from the bed and trudged into the en-suite. As I flicked on the shower and waited for it to heat up I felt some remaining stickiness between my legs, which was yet another reminder of my sordid actions last night, and gave me further reason to scowl. I should have showered before bed and washed away the memories of Sean from my body, but when I’d reached my room all I’d wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry, so that was exactly what I’d done. Now though, I seriously regretted last night’s laziness because as I lifted my arms to remove my T-shirt I got a faint whiff of his smoky, woody scent lingering on my skin, and shivered from the deluge of memories it triggered.
After a long and rather painful shower – like last time, I took out my self-disgust on my skin by scrubbing it way too hard – I found that, thankfully, my washed clothes were now dry. Dressing in garments that actually fit me felt like a novelty after being swamped in Sean’s massive things for so long, and I took a second to smooth my hands over my clothes – it was good to be able to feel my hips and boobs again.
Using the hairdryer that Sean had left for me, I dried my tresses, applied a tiny smidgen of makeup to improve my confidence, and looked in the mirror with a satisfied nod. At least I could look like myself today, even if my battered ego felt absolutely nothing like the calm, confident, headstrong woman I usually was.
It might be Christmas Eve, but as I opened my curtains I saw that there would be no Christmas miracle for me today, because there was more sodding snow falling outside. Seeing the thick, white flakes still dancing around, I cursed loudly before deciding that I wouldn’t hide in my room any longer. Sean was the one with the issues, not me, and if he wanted me out of his sight then he could be the one to flipping hide away. I was sick of these four walls, and I’d done nothing wrong … except get a little carried away in the heat of the moment last night.
Pushing my long hair back from my face, I huffed out a long breath. God, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place, away from Sean and back to my comfortable, if somewhat boring, life.
Making my way downstairs, I practically held my breath as I pushed the kitchen door open, but released a long, relieved sigh when I found it empty. Thank goodness for that. I was feeling way too snarky today to deal with Sean before I had any caffeine in me.
As I stepped into the large room my eyes were instinctively drawn to the marble worktop where we’d had sex last night. There was no evidence of our heated encounter, but I felt my nose crinkle as I imagined what hidden residues might be happily encrusting themselves to the surface at this very moment. Ugh. I probably should wipe the surface down. As my gaze lingered and my skin began to warm from the returning memories, I swallowed loudly before having to forcefully rip my gaze away, determined not to linger on thoughts of Sean and his superb sexing skills, or the way I constantly seemed to lose my wits when I was around him.
My stomach grumbled loudly, reminding me that I’d barely eaten last night, and so I immediately grabbed a banana to feed my poor empty tummy alongside some butter and jam from the fridge and two slices of bread from the freezer. Minutes later I had demolished the banana and was well through the process of brewing a pot of Sean’s finest Columbian coffee as my bread defrosted on the counter – not the sex counter of course: I still hadn’t got around to cleaning over there yet.
All in all, today was starting off better. The coffee was on, I was about to have a nice, peaceful breakfast, and best of all, I hadn’t had any hormone-stirring, soul-shaking encounters with a certain Mr Irresistible. Smiling as I inhaled the delicious smell now filling the room, I turned to pop my bread in the toaster, but was suddenly interrupted by the kitchen door slamming open as the man himself strode in from the hallway, casting a dark glance around and freezing when he saw me. My heart sank – looks like I had jinxed my nice morning by entertaining brief thoughts of him. Damn.
We did that fleeting staring thing again, both of us frozen to the spot as our eyes locked and held, but I was first to break the electric link between us by blinking, and forcing my head to turn back towards the toaster. I had no idea what the deal was with him always staring at me, but I wouldn’t indulge him any longer. Even if a tiny deep down part of me did find the connection between us quite thrilling.
‘G … good morning,’ I murmured almost automatically as a way to fill the awkward silence, but immediately chastised myself for interacting with him at all. And what the hell was I on about when I’d described the morning as ‘good’? It was snowing again, I was still trapped, and to top it all off I was a little sore between my legs from where I’d willingly allowed this miserable arsehole and his large appendage to shag me senseless. That made today about as far from a ‘good’ morning as I could possibly imagine.
Sean merely continued to stare at me in reply, his shoulders tense below the material of the black, long sleeved T-shirt that he was wearing. Which, I noted despairingly, also happened to cling to his sodding muscles to near perfection. His jaw was tight as he blinked rapidly, but for a moment it looked like he was about to speak, before he briefly dropped his head with a grunt and walked towards the fridge instead. Charming. This man’s stunning lack of social skills knew no bounds.
‘You’re in a dazzling mood I see,’ I muttered, more to myself than him, but in response I got a glare as he poured himself a giant glass of orange juice and took several long swigs. Stupidly, the movement of his throat as he swallowed drew my attention, that Adam’s apple of his, so masculine and bobbing up and down as if tempting me to walk across and kiss it. Hmm … I would start on his neck and work my way up his stubble-covered jaw until I reached that sinful mouth of his … Fuck! My bloody mind was going crazy again, and before I even knew it, I was the one staring, not him.
There was quite a high chance that I was probably drooling, too. Bugger. What was it about this guy that pulled me so strongly?
‘I’m not really a morning person,’ he mumbled moodily, depositing the carton back in the fridge, slamming the door, and ruining my throat appreciation session as he turned away from me so I was left staring at the ruffled hair on the back of his head.
‘No kidding,’ I replied tightly, turning to rescue my toast from becoming charcoal and buttering it furiously, only just managing to bite back the sarcastic comment that flew to mind. He obviously wasn’t going to talk about what had happened last night, and there was no way in hell that I was going to be the one to bring it up.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he suddenly admitted, his tone quieter and softer than before and making me abandon my buttering and look across in surprise to find him already watching me with a wary expression on his handsome face.
‘How about you … how are you?’ he asked hesitantly. So now he was making small talk? My eyebrows flew up at his utter cheek. After shagging me not once, but twice, and effectively dismissing me after each bout, now he wanted to chat?
Glaring at him, I decided it was probably advisable to get away from Sean and his tempe
ramental moods while I still had my sanity even vaguely intact, so I dropped the knife, leaving my toast uneaten. Funnily enough, with Sean in the room my appetite had disappeared now anyway.
‘Oh, I’m just peachy,’ I replied sarcastically, before picking up my coffee cup, shoving past him, and wandering into the lounge without another word.
Hearing the door click closed behind me, I sighed in relief and leant back on the wall to try and steady my breath. Even with my exhausting efforts at staying strong around him my body had reacted anyway by heating and going into overdrive, leaving me feeling a bit clammy and restless. This really was physical attraction at its most potent. And dangerous. Nodding my head, I scowled; I might not like to properly admit it, but there was no doubt that that man and his charms were a serious danger to the safety of my heart. Raising my free hand I rubbed at my chest in a useless attempt at soothing my hammering pulse rate, but managed nothing other than knocking my coffee cup and nearly spilling the contents.
As well as being a completely confusing, changeable, and miserable man, Sean clearly wasn’t a Christmas person either, I thought sourly, looking around the undecorated room as I drew in long, slow breaths. There wasn’t a single bauble or string of tinsel in sight. All in all, it was a truly depressing situation.
If I was where I should be today – enjoying the day at my mum’s house – we’d all be gathered around the dining table with a Christmas tree twinkling beside us, carols on the radio, and our traditional Christmas Eve breakfast of baked ham and toast waiting for us. Thanks to Sean’s interruption I didn’t even have my toast to enjoy now. I felt so fragile this morning that the thought of my family was almost enough to make me burst into tears on the spot, but I’d cried plenty last night, so I instead gave myself a firm pep talk and let out a long, unhappy sigh.
