by Jamie Wesley
The contained fury, the absolute truth in his statement must have registered because David didn’t utter another word. Keeping his eyes trained on the alcoholic, Alex wrapped an arm around Fliss’s waist and walked away from the man he planned to never see again.
They returned to their rental car and rode back to the hotel in silence. Alex didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t know what to say. How had everything that had gone so right that day collapsed into a nightmare? He should have known the good wasn’t real and that it couldn’t last.
Fliss squeezed his thigh. She started to retreat, but he grabbed her hand and slammed it down on his leg. He needed the contact. To remind him there was goodness in the world.
He hadn’t expected to see his father. He hadn’t even been sure if David was still alive, and to have him appear out of nowhere like that had knocked all the air out of him.
The urge to cry or smash something tore at him. Both options sounded good at the moment. Damn it.
For so long, he’d clung to the belief that if he could make it in Hollywood, if he made enough money, he could leave all of the ugliness of his past behind. David would never be able to hurt him again. But he’d been wrong. That jackass still had the ability to make him think badly about himself. To remind him his success didn’t count because he had a partner.
I’ll always be his son. He’ll always be a part of me.
Alex balled his hand into a fist. And Fliss had been there to witness the ugliness.
He poisoned everything. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about David or himself.
At the hotel, they rode the elevator in silence. When the doors opened on his floor, he turned to her and said, “See you in the morning.”
She followed him out into the hall. “Do you think we’re not going to talk about this?”
“Not now, Fliss. Get back in the elevator before it leaves.”
“No.”
“Get in the elevator and go to your room,” he said through clenched teeth, not in the mood to deal with her stubbornness. He needed to be alone.
The sound of the elevator car descending came through loud and clear in the quiet hallway.
“Too late now,” she said with a lifted eyebrow.
“All I have to do is push the button and another one will be here in two seconds.”
“Not going to happen. Let’s go.” She spun on her heel and marched down the hall, leaving him no choice but to follow. He sighed and did just that. At his door, he paused with the key card in his hand. He should try one more time to send her away. So he could get the rage churning in his stomach under control before it spewed out and contaminated her.
“Open the door, Alex.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Fliss released a sigh of relief when Alex swiped the key card into the slot. She followed him inside and closed the door behind her.
He flipped on the light and continued into the room, stopping by the desk chair.
She moved closer to him, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. Hoping he would accept it. “Talk to me.”
He didn’t respond, instead gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles strained tight against his skin.
She twisted her hands at her waist. What if she couldn’t reach him? Rage emanated from his every pore. He stared off into space like he couldn’t stand to even look at her. Still, she had to try. She took another step toward him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He whirled to face her, his dark eyes pinning her to the spot. “I’m sorry you were there to witness that. Other than that, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But…”
“I don’t want to talk about it. You can’t fix everything, Fliss. Life isn’t a fairy tale. We don’t live in The Princess Bride.”
Her back stiffened. “You think I don’t know that?”
She’d thought that they’d come to a new understanding, but now he was lashing out at her? It hurt. Fliss took a calming breath and consciously relaxed her spine. This wasn’t about her. The anguish he tried to hide swam in his eyes. The rigidity in his shoulders told its own story. He needed someone to be there for him. Had anyone besides another boy his age ever been there for him? “Keeping stuff bottled up isn’t going to help you.”
“I’ve been doing just fine for thirty years.” He looked away again.
Fliss refused to give up. She gripped his shirt and yanked until his angry gaze met hers. “I kept everything bottled up and didn’t talk to anybody about what happened in my marriage because I thought I could handle it. But eventually, I realized that if I didn’t talk about it, I would explode.”
Alex tugged her hand away from his shirt, then used his grip on her to pull her closer until her chest brushed the front of his shirt. He bent his head down till their faces, their mouths were inches apart. “You know what’s going to make me explode? Wanting you but not being able to have you.” His low, heated voice sent a thrill skidding through her veins. “So you’re right. I’m not going to bottle it up anymore.”
Alex slammed his mouth slammed down on hers. And met absolutely no resistance because her mouth had fallen open in pure shock. He took immediate advantage, sweeping his tongue swept inside, carrying her along in a flash flood of feeling.
Right before the desire consumed her, she managed to cobble together a few brain cells and pull away. “I think—”
“I don’t want to think. I want to feel. Don’t you? Do you lie awake at night imagining how it would be between us like I do?” His dark eyes probed deep, demanding the truth.
“Yes.” The answer came straight from her soul.
“Good.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close, and sought out her mouth again.
This time, she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. All coherent thought deserted her. All the reasons this wasn’t a good idea. She sank into him and reveled in how right it felt to be in his arms. Alex took his time, seducing her with slow, thorough, passionate kisses that addled her senses. So much so that she didn’t notice he’d unbuttoned her shirt until she felt a rush of air against her skin. At the first touch of his callused palm against her stomach’s sensitive skin, her knees buckled. She grabbed for his waist to brace herself.
Alex lifted his head, the heat in his gaze scorching her. “Steady,” he murmured. Her nipples tightened at the sexy tone. He backed away and sat on the bed and drew her in between his spread thighs. “I want to see you. All of you.”
Fliss tracked the movement of his hands as he made quick work of her shirt and tossed it aside, leaving her torso clad only in a bra. She didn’t have time to be shy. A quick dart of his tongue inside the right cup left her shuddering and wishing he’d taste her more fully.
His large hands skimmed up her stomach and covered the full mounds of her breasts, testing their weight in each hand before sliding his hands to her back. A flick of his wrist and her breasts, swollen by desire, fell into his waiting hands. He licked and nibbled up her torso, then took as much of her right breast’s eager flesh into his mouth as he could and sucked.
Oh, God. Her eyes slammed shut. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders to keep from sliding to his feet.
He seemed content to feast on her, his attention unwavering as he went from breast to breast. Just as he did everything right in his life, in this department, he was no different. He knew how to touch and please her, like he’d been made for the task.
“You taste so good.” He took her right breast in his mouth again, licking and sucking until she was a quivering mass of nerve endings, her ragged breaths coming faster and faster.
“Don’t worry. It’s going to get better,” he whispered against her skin before tugging at her nipple.
How? Fliss didn’t have the energy to actually utter the question. He drew the bra down her arms. While his tongue tugged at one sensitive nipple, his hands released the button holding her jeans closed. The quiet hiss of the zipper filled the room and ratcheted up the tension running through her body.
She reluctantly stepped away from his heady touch to kick off her shoes and wiggle out of her jeans. She grinned at his low moan. Then, she glanced up. The stark, hungry look on his face froze her in place. No one had ever looked at her like that. Like he saw straight into her soul and saw the real her, not the famous person on magazine covers. Like he had to have her no matter the cost.
It made her feel powerful. Wanted.
He stood and grabbed her butt to haul her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and met his mouth. The kiss matched the way he made her feel. Wild. Hot. Sexy. Out of control.
He lowered her to the bed. Her eyes were closed, but she felt his gaze like the surest of caresses. She took advantage, stretching out and running her hands over her hardened nipples before slipping one hand down her stomach.
“Are you done now?”
She bit her lip to stop the smile that would give her away. He sounded winded, like he’d run a marathon. She was getting to him. Good. He’d turned her into a trembling mess. Turnabout was fair play.
Her eyes opened. “Do you have a better plan?” she asked huskily, her throat drying up at what she saw. A man pushed to the limits of his control. His eyes scorched her with their intensity.
“Yes.” That’s all he said. All he had to say. He dropped to his knees on the floor and whisked her panties off. At his direction, she planted her feet on the bed, offering him a front-row view of her desire for him. She was ready, her body so wet, so primed for him.
“Where were we? Oh, yeah, in your latest attempt to drive me out of my mind, you were about to touch yourself.” He sounded guttural, almost angry. “But I’ll be doing the touching. Only me. Got it?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, he pulled her legs over his shoulders. Dipped his tongue inside her.
Air became a precious commodity. Fliss panted. She chanted his name. She gripped the comforter, searching for an anchor in the storm rampaging through her. Then, like he knew her body better than she did, he unerringly found her clit. He drew it into his mouth, sucking hard. Fliss screamed as an orgasm obliterated her. He continued kissing, sucking, and licking until she erupted again. And again.
***
Had he ever seen a more beautiful sight than Fliss lost in her pleasure? Alex rose to his feet and took a visual tour of her body and all of its enticing curves, some of which he’d tasted. But not all. He needed to rectify that. Soon.
He grabbed his wallet from his pants pocket and retrieved a condom. He tossed the packet on the pillow at the head of the bed. Then he shucked his shirt, jeans, and boxer-briefs in less than two seconds. He returned to the bed and covered her body with his, adjusting his position until every inch of their bodies touched.
She gasped, her eyes flying open. They were dazed with passion. Perfect.
“Hi,” he whispered before covering her delicious mouth with his. The mouth that had haunted him in his dreams for what seemed like an eternity.
He broke the kiss to entwine their fingers and raise them above her head.
This must be what nirvana feels like.
Alex lowered his head to her waiting lips again, the dangerous thought flittering away before he could dwell on it. Tonight was all about pleasure. Forgetting the bad stuff. Giving them what they both wanted. He slipped a hand down her body to her clit. Her back arched, and she moaned into his mouth. Exactly the reaction he wanted. Pleasing her consumed him.
Until her hands joined the party. She dug her fingernails into his sweat-slickened back, then slid her hands up to his shoulders, caressing him, sending darts of pleasure through him. Her hands continued their journey down his heaving chest, raking his nipples with her nails. He shuddered at the intoxicating contact. At the feelings only Fliss brought out of him. Her right hand slid between their bodies. She wrapped her fingers around him.
His brain short-circuited. Up and down her hand went, fondling and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure, sending spirals of arousal spinning through his system. He tried to concentrate, desperate to please her, but what she was doing to him, for him, made that difficult.
But he had to try. He wrenched his mouth away from her. “Fliss.” Strangled. Desperate.
She continued with her ministrations, her face a mask of fierce determination. She wanted to drive him out of his mind, and she was getting damn close to realizing her dream. He felt himself slipping precariously close to the edge.
No. With Herculean effort, he dragged himself back from the brink. Alex grabbed her hand and drew it upward to rest next to her head. He looked down at her. She was grinning. She knew how close he’d been. How close he still was. Siren indeed.
“Stay,” he commanded.
He slid down her body, stopping every few seconds to drop kisses on a pouting nipple, her belly button, whatever part of her he could reach, fascinated by the flush covering her pretty, cinnamon skin. When he arrived at his destination, he inhaled her special scent. He slipped a finger inside her, then another. Her inner walls eagerly clasped him, her hips pumping in perfect synchronization as he increased the tempo.
“Now,” she panted. “Now, Alex.”
The question came to him again—had he ever seen a more beautiful sight than Fliss caught up in her own pleasure? Hell no. He grabbed the condom and quickly donned the latex. He covered her body again and met eyes dazed with passion. “Now, it’s time.”
She nodded and arched her hips. He slid inside her, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out his joy. Her delicious warmth hugged him the entire way. So tight. So good. Once he was all the way in, he paused to savor the perfect connection.
“Alex,” she pleaded.
“I’m here.” He looked deep into her eyes, wanting, needing her to see, not just hear, the truth in his words. “I need you, Fliss. Only you.”
“I need you, too,” she whispered, wrapping her long legs around his waist.
She lifted her hips, and the new angle was almost more than he could stand. He withdrew, the motion sending a fresh wave of sensation through him. He sank back in and then retreated. She quickly picked up his rhythm, her hips moving in perfect counterpoint to his. He linked their hands again, wanting, needing their connection to be complete in every way. Their eyes met. He knew the awe he saw in her gaze was reflected in his. Never before had it been like this. He leaned down for a kiss that quickly derailed out of control, tongues and heads twisting. A kiss that was a reflection of the wildness inside him he could no longer contain.
Her breath quickened and her hips moved faster. She was dangerously close. He, too, picked up the pace, unable to deny the inevitable any longer.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, holding on by the thinnest of margins. He twisted his hips to hit the special spot inside her. Fliss’s whole body stiffened for a prolonged second, then she shouted as the climax swept through her body.
Her scream and the pleasure washing across her beautiful face were all he needed to reach his own soul-destroying end.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Shit. Damn. Hell.
Not daring to breathe, Fliss slid her gaze down to where an arm corded with muscle was wrapped around her bare waist. A hard chest pressed against her back. Another hard body part pressed against her butt.
He was naked. She was naked. They were both naked.
Panic seized the air from her lungs.
Shit. Damn. Hell.
She hadn’t dreamed last night. Every explicit, carnal memory flooded her brain in 1080p high definition.
She’d slept with Alex. Her business partner. Her ex-husband’s best friend. Until a week ago, her nemesis. Had it really only been a week since she’d dreamed about wrapping her hands around his neck and strangling him?
What was she going to do? The sex had been so intense. Too revealing. Had she really told him she needed him? How embarrassing. She couldn’t need him. She was supposed to be standing on her own two feet, not getting involved in whatever this was.
“
Fliss.” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine.
Oh, God. He was awake.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“We can’t stay like this forever.”
They couldn’t? She didn’t know if she could face him. Not when she had no idea what he was thinking. Not when she had no idea what she wanted him to say. It would be easy to say she’d slept with him out of pity. That would be a lie. No, she’d slept with him because she’d fantasized about it for almost two months. But she wasn’t falling for him. She couldn’t be. It wasn’t in her plan. It was too soon.
“Right. We can’t.” She leaped out of the bed, taking the bed sheet with her. She didn’t care that he’d seen her entire body. She reached down and scrambled for her clothes strewn across the floor, making sure her eyes didn’t wander in the direction of the bed. Not that she needed to look at him to recall with one hundred percent accuracy every detail of his muscular, mouthwatering body she’d explored throughout the night.
In her rush to get to the bathroom, she stumbled over her feet tangled in the sheet. Thankfully, she caught herself before she made a complete fool of herself and face-planted. Not daring to look back at Alex, she continued on her way, her dignity hiding underneath the sheet trailing behind her. Inside the bathroom, she collapsed against the door and clutched the sheet to her chest. Ordered herself to calm down and breathe normally.
She moved to the sink and splashed some water on her face and did the best she could with Alex’s toothpaste and her index finger. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror. She was too afraid of what she’d see. A well-satisfied woman. A scared woman who might be thinking crazy thoughts like last night meant more than just sex. Except it couldn’t. She couldn’t mistake sexual chemistry for something more like she’d done way too many times before.
She tossed on her clothes, swiping at the wrinkles in her shirt to no avail. She spied a hairbrush on the counter and raked it through her hair. She took a deep breath, then another as the first did nothing to calm her jangled nerves.
