Alex

by Monica Robinson

  Actually, between the discount department store and the hardware store, she'd only spent a couple hundred dollars. Granted, it would undoubtedly take her months to pay it off, but as she looked at all of her hard work, she knew it had been worth it.

  "Not really. I've spent more money than this before and had a whole lot less to show for it.” She glanced at her watch with a grimace. “Dinner's going to be a little late tonight, I'm afraid. Let me wash some of this paint off my hands and I'll get started."

  "I'll help,” Steven offered.

  She shook her head. Cooking was her responsibility and she was determined to make sure she did her job. “Thanks, Steve, but I got it,” she replied and slipped into the kitchen. “You guys get washed up and dinner will be ready in about a half an hour."

  Setting a skillet on the stove, Alex reflected on the kiss she'd shared with Brett. It wasn't like her to act so boldly with a man. Especially one she barely knew. And it certainly wasn't in her nature to want a man as desperately as she wanted Brett. She closed her eyes, her mouth still tingling at the memory of his lips on hers. Never had she felt an attraction like this and it scared her.

  He's cute, that's all. Maybe, but she doubted it. For as strong and determined as he was, Brett possessed a gentleness she was certain he tried to keep hidden. She'd seen this and now she wanted to know more. She wanted to know him. It would be impossible, though. Her uncle would send Brett away if he found out and she wouldn't let that happen.

  Dejected, she crumbled the ground beef into the hot skillet. “It was nice while it lasted.” With a wicked grin, she muttered, “Boy was it nice."

  Greg had been handsome, but his kisses hadn't set her senses aflame the way Brett's had. The moment his lips touched hers, she'd wanted to lose herself in him, allow him to consume her. Scandalous images raced through her mind at the thought of what might have happened if they had taken things further. Mmm. She pictured his hands being strong; his fingers calloused from years of hard work. She envisioned him slipping these hands beneath her shirt to explore her belly, ribs, back and then finally her bare breasts.

  Whoa, hang on now. They'd shared one—albeit fantastic—kiss. Was it really enough to jumpstart this type of thinking? The heat pooling in her belly and tightness of her nipples seemed to think so.

  "The living room looks great."

  Alex gasped at Brett's declaration and spun around to face him. Her cheeks warmed and she prayed he wouldn't notice.

  "Oh, um, thank you.” She gestured to the stove with a small smile. “Dinner's going to be a little late. I hope the others won't be too upset."

  Brett eyed her for a moment in mild confusion before relenting into a knowing smile. Alex swallowed as he rested his hands on her hips.

  "I think they'll understand. What you did in the bunkhouse was the nicest thing anyone has done for us in a long time.” He tightened his hold before drawing her closer. “I should thank you properly."

  A pulse of arousal beat between her legs at his husky tone and after checking to see if anyone was within sight, she slipped her hands onto his shoulders.

  "Are you getting fresh with me?"

  "I believe I am.” He lowered his mouth to hers in an all too brief kiss. “We're still going to finish that conversation tonight, right?” He slid his hands across her back and gently kneaded the sore muscles.

  She nodded dreamily.

  "Good. Jason should be coming in soon, but if you need any help, let me know.” With that, he left the room.

  Alex returned her attention to the stove and couldn't help thinking she closely resembled the crumbles of ground beef that had slipped out of the pan. She was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire by allowing her attraction for Brett to blossom this way. He couldn't afford having someone find out and she couldn't afford to lose her heart.

  * * * *

  It was well after eleven when Alex finally took the time to relax. Her arms ached, her back was sore and her legs felt like rubber. She should have known better than to try to do everything in one day, but once she'd gotten started, there'd been no stopping her.

  She stepped into the living room and welcomed the gentle breeze blowing through the open window. Her uncle had insisted on shutting off the air conditioner and letting the room air out naturally, which suited her fine. With the dry heat San Eduardo was experiencing, the fresh air would probably help in the drying process.

  She glanced at Brett sitting on the couch, rubbing his knee with a grimace. “You look about as good as I feel,” she commented and plunked onto the seat next to him.

  He forced a grin before reaching for the knee brace lying on the floor. “I don't know what's worse. The pressure from the knee brace or the Jell-O feeling that comes after I take it off."

  He wouldn't need to know if I hadn't kicked him. “Does it still hurt?"

  "A little, but I was up and around more than I should have been. It'll be fine by morning,” he said and looked her over lazily. “What about you? You look pretty sore."

  "Maybe a little. My back is what I feel the most right now,” she explained with a faint shrug. “I think I pulled a muscle while painting."

  "And you want to lay carpet tomorrow?” He gestured for her to turn around. “You're going to burn out if you're not careful."

  She closed her eyes, his fingers working the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. She'd been to some of the best masseuses in New England, but none of them had made her feel as relaxed as Brett did.

  "That feels sooo nice.” She giggled at the dreamy tone in her voice. “You're the one who's injured and I'm getting the back rub.” She craned her neck to look at him. “Not exactly fair, is it?"

  His gaze pierced through her as his hands slid from her shoulders to the tops of her arms. “I'm not complaining,” he replied. “I like the way you feel."

  She twisted in her seat to face him. “Do you?"

  He nodded.

  "What else do you like about me?"

  Brett leaned his elbow on the back of the couch and studied her. “Your eyes. They remind me of warm honey when you smile. I've never seen anything quite like it,” he said and chuckled. “And your laugh. I really like your laugh."

  "You like the sound of hyenas?” Her breath caught when he brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

  "You giggle. It's innocent and sincere. That's what I like about it,” he said and glanced at the cushion of the couch. “Do you know what I like most about you?"

  Her throat tightened and she shook her head. “No."

  "You don't see me as a junkie."

  Her blood ran cold. No matter how mad he made her, she could never bring herself to think that of him.

  "Why would I? To label someone based solely on their past mistakes is a horrible injustice, don't you think?"

  He didn't reply. Instead, he cupped the sides of her face and drew her up for a kiss. Cautious at first their lips merely touched, but when she leaned into him, he slanted his mouth over hers to explore her mouth in more detail.

  She buried her fingers in his honey-colored hair and drank in the taste of him, loving the little sound he made when she nipped at his bottom lip. A spark of desire ignited and then flamed in her belly when he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

  Leaning her against the arm of the couch, Brett hovered over her while his lips traced her jaw line and then down the side of her neck. Her pulse raced when his fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of her shirt and slowly crept over her waist before pausing at her ribs. She remembered her fantasy while making dinner and thrilled at the notion that it was coming true in every fantastic detail. His hands were strong and the pads of his fingertips were calloused, but they felt so good. Her body trembled with anticipation as she waited for the grand finale, for him to explore her breasts.

  He took in her quivering form and frowned. “You're shaking,” he murmured. “If you want me to stop, I will."

  No! The very last thing she wanted was for him to stop. “
Don't you dare stop."

  He chuckled against her skin, sending a deep exhilarating shock from the spot where he was kissing to between her thighs. The tip of his tongue trailed down the hollow of her throat while his thumb traced small, teasing circles around her nipple through the satin material of her bra.

  She slipped her hands from behind his neck, glided them over his broad, tan shoulders and down his well-defined chest. Tugging his shirt free, she slid her fingers beneath the soft cotton, needing to drink him in with her eyes.

  "Let me see your chest,” she purred.

  Brett's hand slipped away from her breast long enough to pull the garment over his head. Oh, wow. All muscle and sun-bronzed flesh, his skin was soft and warm and her fingers delighted in the feel of the silky hairs on his belly as she slid her hand into his waistband.

  He seized her wrists and placed a kiss in each palm before stretching her arms over her head. Gazes locked, he placed both hands beneath her shirt and pushed it upward. The material slowly inched its way up, revealing her ivory flesh in small increments.

  When she made no move to stop him he lowered his mouth, placing tentative kisses along her belly, across her ribcage and finally up the valley of her breasts.

  "You are so beautiful.” He slid the tank top over her arms and tossed it aside.

  She wanted to reply, but couldn't form an intelligible sentence when he eased the cup of her bra to the side. He took one of the distended peaks between his lips and gave it a gentle suck, forcing her to bite back a moan.

  He lifted his head. “We should probably stop,” he whispered. “This isn't right."

  What? How could he say that? Every kiss, every touch felt so incredibly right she was sure he could make her come by merely willing it.

  "You don't want me?"

  That had to be it. He must have thought of Jason and the repercussions he would face if her uncle were to find out. She didn't blame him. In fact, she probably would have come to the same decision eventually.

  His hand found her leg and he shook his head. “Darlin', I've never wanted a woman more."

  His fingers trailed up her thigh toward the edge of her shorts. She held her breath and waited for his hand to slide beneath the thick denim. When he stopped with his palm resting on her inner thigh, she whimpered.

  "You're afraid Uncle Jason will find out?"

  She had to know why he was stopping. No one had ever made her feel so out-of-control before. She was a prisoner to her own desires, a feeling she wasn't accustomed to. She was used to feeling indifferent when it came to sex, partly because Greg had been so mechanical and partly because she didn't know any better.

  "That's not it either."

  His fingers were like feathers on her skin and she pressed her lips together to squelch the groan of delight bubbling within. He stopped again, only this time his fingers had found the elastic of her panties. This was maddening! Her whole body ached with need and he was tormenting her.

  "Then what is it?” she breathed. “If you want me and you're not worried about Uncle Jason, then what's wrong?"

  "I haven't been with a woman in almost seven years,” he said, crooking his finger beneath the stretchy fabric. “If we go any further, I might not be able to stop myself later."

  Who said anything about stopping? He had her so wound up that she wanted all of him. It didn't matter if it had been a long time for him or not.

  "Your point being?” She shifted to manipulate his finger beneath her panties. “I want this and I want you."

  He leaned toward her, a hungry growl emanating in the back of his throat as he captured her lips with his. He slid another finger beneath her panties, tracing the outline of her slick opening before spreading the soft folds.

  He brought his lips to her ear while dipping a finger in her heat and then withdrawing to stroke the sensitive nub of her clitoris. “So I see. Is this all for me? Are you this wet because of me?"

  Oh. My. God. What was he trying to do to her? Between the alternating movements of his fingers, the feel of his hard chest pressed against hers and his impassioned comments there was no way she could make this moment last. Which was a damned shame, because never had she felt more alive than she did at this moment.

  "Yes-ss,” she moaned. “You did this to me."

  Her skin tightened, her nerves frayed and her limbs quivered when he continued to stroke her, driving her insane with want. She couldn't take much more. He felt so good and it had been so long since a man had satisfied her that she felt like she was on the brink of total combustion.

  Her breathing came out in short, labored pants and she arched her back to greet his touch. “More,” she pleaded. “Please, Brett."

  His erection pressed against her hip and she resisted the urge to run her palm over the bulge in his jeans. Instead, she slid her hands up his stomach, over his chest and curled her fingers into the back of his neck. Pulling him toward her, she buried her face in the space between his throat and shoulders. The scent of his cologne mixed with sweat made for an intoxicating scent that she breathed in greedily. She nibbled first on his neck and then up to his earlobe.

  He shivered and covered her mouth with his, mimicking his fingers movements with his tongue. She couldn't resist the temptation to touch him any longer. Her hands fell from his face and landed on his legs. His body stiffened as she ran her fingers up his thighs until they reached the bulge straining against his zipper. She hesitated, wondering for only a second if he wanted this as much as he'd said he did.

  He grasped her hand and moved his lips from hers, allowing them to graze over her cheek before resting next to her ear.

  "Are you sure this is what you want?"

  "I want you to make me yours."

  No sooner had the words escaped her lips, the dam holding back her passion ruptured, sending a torrent of pleasure to every part of her body. Wave after wave of ecstasy lapped at her, drowning any sense of rationality that may have existed. When the tide subsided, she opened her eyes to see an expression of longing on Brett's face.

  "If we do this, I really will think of you as mine,” he warned.

  She lay beneath him and nodded, her thighs still quivering from the mind-numbing experience. She reached for the button of her shorts and nodded.

  "I know."

  Brett gently brushed her trembling hands aside and unfastened the latch for her. She held her breath as his fingers hooked into the sides of the garment and tugged them down over her hips.

  Once the shorts were off, he gathered her into his arms and expertly unhooked her bra with a flick of his fingers. He placed a kiss on her neck before easing her back onto the couch and sitting up to admire her form.

  "That doesn't bother you?"

  "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it.” She sat up and darted a look in the direction of the staircase before reaching for the belt buckle fastened at his waist. “Uncle Jason might still be awake, so we're going to have to be extremely quiet. I don't think either of us wants to see what will happen if we're caught."

  "Way ahead of you, darlin'."

  He cupped her face and kissed her mouth so hard she feared her lips might bruise. Without tearing her lips from his, she released the button of his jeans. Brett made quick time in removing his pants and started to move toward her when she placed her hands on his shoulders.

  "Your knee,” she murmured against his lips while pushing him onto his back. “I don't want you in pain."

  She crawled up the length of him, the embers of her spent desire sparking once more as his hard body slid against her soft moist flesh.

  Brett opened his arms for her and waggled his eyebrows. “I don't think anything could hurt me right now."

  She choked back a gasp when he entered her, stretching and filling her to maximum capacity. Holy smokes! What had she been missing all of these years? Greg had been pleasant, but he never made her want to cry out, not the way Brett made her want to cry out. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoul
ders, clinging to him as she buried her face into the throw pillow next to his head.

  "Am I hurting you?"

  She shook her head, the swells of another orgasm building within her. No, not yet! She had to make this last. All they had was tonight and she needed to make sure this night stayed with her forever.

  "No,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I—I don't want to w—wake Uncle Jason."

  She increased the tempo of her rocking hips, each of them murmuring their need for the other. If Brett needed her then she didn't think she could live without him. He brought to life hungry needs she never knew existed. Needs that wrapped around her like a blanket and heated not only her body, but her soul as well.

  Time seemed to stand still and she foolishly hoped it would stay that way. Every time she thought she couldn't take the pleasure anymore, Brett forced her to slow their rhythm, teasing her inflamed body by rocking her in a different direction. It wouldn't be long before even the simple act of slowing down would be too much for her to withstand.

  She buried her fingers in his hair and released the soft moan that had been aching to escape her. He countered it with one of his own and she felt him swell within her. The thrill of his pending release pushed her over the edge and she shook with ecstasy for the second time that night. Brett captured her mouth with his and shuddered, emptying himself into her.

  Not having the strength to move, she collapsed onto his chest and allowed his pounding heart to serenade her. For the first time in years, everything felt right. Sex with Brett had been a soul awakening experience and more than ever she was grateful she'd ended her relationship with Greg.

  "I'll move if I'm crushing you.” She tilted her head to look at him. “I didn't hurt your knee, did I?"

  Brett held her snugly to him and shook his head. “Not at all,” he replied. “What makes you think I'm going to let you move from this spot?"

  She glanced at their bodies entwined on the couch and then into his playful eyes.

  "The laws of physics. We can't sleep on the couch like this. You'll dislocate your knee again and I'll fall off.” With great reluctance, she rose.