by Jamie Wesley
She did, kicking the panties away.
“Assume the position.”
Knowing what he wanted, she leaned against the wall and spread her legs.
She was rewarded with another grin. He leaned forward and circled her navel with his talented tongue, then headed south again. He didn’t waste time. He found her clit, pressing his tongue against the nub. Again and again.
Stars burst behind her eyes. He knew how to work her body. What she liked. How to drive her insane. He drove her up higher and higher until she was hanging on to her control by a thread, panting his name over and over. The string inside her body drew tight. She cupped her breasts, squeezing the tight nipples, trying to find some relief, but that only built the pressure inside her. Then he slipped a finger inside her, while his wonderful, talented mouth continued to pay homage to her clit.
The combination was too much. Perfect.
She splintered into a million parts, the pieces of her body hurtling through space.
Only when her rapid, ragged inhalations of breath slowed did she realize he was speaking in between the gentle kisses he pressed all over her shaking limbs. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” He rose and gently cupped her cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.
“We’re not finished, are we?” she whispered.
A wicked grin broke across his face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Hell no.”
He grabbed a condom from his wallet and stripped out of his remaining clothes. Fliss promptly forgot what she was supposed to be doing. All that tempting flesh called to her. Long, lean muscles. Lickable abs. Strong thighs. How had she managed to resist him since Philadelphia? She wanted to touch him. Kiss him. All of him. She strode forward to do so, but he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the couch. He sat and drew her down to straddle his waist.
She settled on those strong thighs and immediately turned to kissing his neck and sweeping her hands across the body parts she could reach, from his broad shoulders down his drool-worthy chest to his nipples that went hard underneath her touch.
“Fliss.” He reached for her hands, but she dodged him. She wasn’t finished. Another one of his body parts beckoned.
“Felicity.” The use of her full name caught her attention. She looked up. “I want to make love to you. Now.”
Her lips curved. “I like the way you think.”
He quickly donned the condom, then gripped her hips and guided her into position. She sank onto him, inch by blissful inch until their connection was complete. She gasped, savoring how perfectly they fit.
“Again, Fliss.” He raised and lowered her. Once, twice, again, in a languid rhythm that sent desire flooding through her pores. The climb was gradual but exhilarating.
“Alex,” she moaned. It had never been this good for her. Never.
“I’m here. Fliss, look at me.”
She gathered her strength and opened her eyes. His dark eyes probed deep into hers. His mouth was there, waiting. The kiss was hungry. All-consuming. She broke away, panting. He flexed his hips, ramping up her arousal by another ten degrees, as impossible as it seemed.
“Alex!” She clutched his shoulders, her hold on the present slipping away.
“I’m here. Let go.” He thrust again and found her clit with his hand. “I need you to.”
She did, soaring, crying out his name. He followed soon afterward, his arms wrapping tightly around her.
She dropped her forehead on his shoulder, her chest heaving. “Alex…”
“Hmm?”
“I…I…” have never felt like this before. Happy. Not striving for the vision of happiness that always seemed just out of reach. Because of Alex.
Every muscle in her body tightened. Oh God. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling this much this soon for Alex. For anyone. And yet she did.
Alex’s arms tightened around her. “Fliss, what’s wrong?”
Of course he noticed. He was Alex. He noticed everything.
Breathe. She needed to breathe.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said as calmly as she could.
Alex leaned back to peer at her with narrowed eyes. “You sure about that?”
Her lips quirked. Guess her acting skills weren’t up to par tonight. But it was okay. She was overreacting. No need to panic. Alex hadn’t proposed. He’d expressed concern because that’s who he was. And that’s why she…cared about him. She should care about him. Alex was a good man.
She took a breath, then pressed a kiss to the wrinkle in his forehead, then another to his lips. She lingered there for just a moment because how could she not? He had a seriously sexy mouth. She leaned back and chuckled when he followed her to kiss her again. She met his dark gaze and let her lips curve into a flirtatious grin. “Absolutely.”
He was still Alex. She was still Fliss. Denying their connection at this point was ridiculous. She wanted to be with him. There was no need to lie to herself about that any longer. But she’d take it slow. Not just hand over her heart. Not let their chemistry cloud her judgment and distract her from her goals.
He studied her, his gaze shrewd, then he nodded and ducked his head and nipped the skin connecting her neck and shoulder. “I’m happy to hear it.”
She shivered. “I’m happy to say it.”
“Good. Because I have some plans for you.”
Of that, she had no doubt. “Actions speak louder than words, Alex.”
He lowered her to the sofa, his gaze hungry. “Then let me show you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
At the confident, brisk knock on her office door, Fliss looked up from her computer. “Come in.”
Alex walked in, carrying two flat packages wrapped in brown butcher paper. “Hey. Ready for the meeting?”
She looked at her watch. They were scheduled to meet with Phillip Mansfield at noon, which was less than an hour away. “Wow. Yeah. Time got away from me.” She pointed at the packages. “More presents for Phillip?”
He shook his head. “No, they’re for you.”
Her eyes widened. “You got me something?”
“Yes.” He crooked a finger, a smile playing on his lips. “Come see.”
She stood and rounded the desk, eager to be closer to him. “What brought this on?”
He glanced around the room. “You mean other than the fact that your office is sad?”
“Hey!” She slammed her hands on her waist. She hadn’t gotten around to decorating the space like she’d planned on doing, that’s all. She’d been too busy, but she still had plans. Besides, the room wasn’t completely bare. “I have a plant.”
“You mean that sad thing over there begging for sunlight?”
She poked him in the chest. “You take that back. It gets sun. And water when I remember.”
He squinted. “If that’s your defense, then I definitely did the right thing getting something you can’t kill. Go ahead and open them.”
Fliss took the packages from him and ripped off the paper. And could do nothing to stop a grin from stretching across her face. He’d given her a poster of her first movie, even though she was nowhere to be found on it, and another of The Princess Bride. She threw her arms around his waist, inhaling the scent that never failed to offer up equal doses of comfort and excitement. “Thank you. I love them.”
His arms encircled her, drawing her closer. “You’re welcome. Anything for you, sweetheart.”
I love you. The truth hit her in a blinding flash of light. Oh God. She wasn’t easing into a new relationship with him. She wasn’t falling for him. She’d fallen. Hard. The time they’d spent together over the past week had only solidified her feelings.
But, but…this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Hadn’t she told herself to take things slowly? Not to tumble too hard, too fast?
Was she really at the point where she could fully trust her gut again? What if Alex changed his mind? What if he decided he didn’t desire her anymore, that she wasn’t enough? Devastation didn’t begin to cover i
t. She didn’t know if she would be able to recover from Alex walking out of her life.
So many what-ifs.
With her heartbeat beating at triple its normal rate, she pulled away. Tried to lift her lips. Failing. “Thank you again.”
He cupped her shoulders and squeezed. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re so good to me.”
Alex frowned, his head tilting to the side. “That’s a problem?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t I believe you?”
She turned away from the confusion in his eyes. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. To get her roiling emotions under control. When she was certain she could speak without her voice breaking, she faced him again. “I…want to be with you.”
He reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. “And I want to be with you.”
“I don’t want to…rush things.”
The vee in his forehead deepened. “Do you feel like I’m pushing you into something you don’t want?”
“No. I just want to go slow.”
His hand fell away. Instantly missing the lost connection, she curled her hand into a ball at her side.
“Slow.” He drew the word out like he wasn’t sure of its meaning. “You say you want to go slow when you’re trying to let someone down easily. How slow do you want to go, Fliss?” The hurt creeping into his voice devastated her.
She covered her face with her hands. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how to explain the panic stealing her breath. Obscuring every rational thought in her head. She didn’t know.
He huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I wasn’t imagining things the other night. You were pulling back. I told myself it was just the stress of the evening, but that wasn’t it, was it?”
She dropped her hands and answered him honestly, her voice small. “No.”
He winced, like she’d struck him. “I thought you were over Keith.”
“I am.” How could she explain this to him when she could barely explain it to herself? “I just don’t want to get swept up and lose sight of my goals and who I am. I like being with you. We’re having fun.”
The warmth in his eyes, the warmth she loved basking in, the warmth that always made her feel wanted and needed, faded away, leaving a chill in the air. “Fun? Is that what you call what we’re doing?” He turned toward the door. “Are you ready?”
Oh, God. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
“Alex, talk to me.”
He stopped, but kept his back to her. “What’s there to talk about? You’ve made your position clear. We’re having fun.” The lack of emotion in his voice stung her so much more than anger would have.
Desperate, she rushed after him. “We can talk about this more in the car.”
He wrenched open the door. “No, we should take separate cars. You’re meeting with your manager after our meeting with Phillip, right?”
“Yes,” she said, her shoulders sinking.
“Then I don’t want to hold you up for that. You don’t want me rushing you, after all.”
***
Alex strode toward Phillip Mansfield’s door. Toward Fliss. A hint of strawberries drifted toward him. So familiar. So enticing. So unwelcome. Why hadn’t he resisted her? Why was he having trouble remembering why he needed to resist her? Because she was his Kryptonite, that’s why.
She’d hurt him. Admitting the problem was the first step to recovery, wasn’t it?
Maybe he was overreacting. But he couldn’t help how he felt. She’d said they were having fun. While he was letting someone in for the first time, she was having fun.
Of course.
He was the rebound guy, the first man she dated after her divorce. What a damn cliché.
Why would she want anything serious with him? He was still that same kid from the wrong side of the tracks, after all. Nothing could change that. They’d only slept together after they’d run into his father. And again after he’d revealed his past. She’d felt sorry for him. After the afterglow wore off, she’d come to her senses and taken stock of what she’d done and who he was.
So he’d move on. Get back to who he was. The real Alex Graham was only concerned with making Crescendo the most successful film production company in Hollywood. Crescendo. His first love. The only love that mattered. Because he sure as hell didn’t love Fliss. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The invisible dagger slicing his heart into pieces would surely dull and lose its edge. At some point.
Stepping up beside her, he rang the doorbell.
“Alex, please talk to me.”
Before he could answer her, the door opened and Mansfield filled the space.
“Phillip.” Fliss grasped the record producer’s outstretched hands and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. She stepped aside, and Alex shook Mansfield’s proffered hand.
“I’m glad you two could make it,” Phillip said. “This is a special occasion.”
“We couldn’t agree more,” Alex said.
Phillip led the way to his office. The room, like its owner, was larger than life. Alex’s shoes sank into sumptuous carpet. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, crammed with books, lined two walls while a glass case filled with shiny Grammy statues was recessed into another.
“Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? M&Ms?” He waved his hand toward the small gumball machine filled with the chocolate candy located on the corner of his immense pine desk.
Fliss sat in one of the mahogany leather chairs in front of the desk but declined his offerings.
Alex noticed she was careful not to look at him. Endeavoring to ignore the shot of pain that hurdled through him, he settled in the chair next to her and turned his attention to Phillip. “I’m good, thanks.”
Phillip studied them. “Then I guess we should get to it.”
He opened a desk drawer, withdrew a stack of thin, leather-bound books, and placed them on the desk. The books were all different colors but looked to be the same otherwise. Phillip brushed his fingers across a cover embossed with gold circles. Sadness, then acceptance washed across his face. He straightened his shoulders and nodded as though coming to a decision.
“My wife kept journals starting when she was a teenager until her death,” he said. “She never let anyone read them. She gave them to me when she was admitted to the hospital. She knew she didn’t have long to live even though I didn’t want to accept it. When she died, I locked myself in this room and read them cover to cover. I cried. I laughed. I cried some more, but they were my lifeline in my time of need. Now I’m entrusting them to you.”
Alex met Fliss’s startled gaze before he turned back to Phillip. “We’re honored and promise to take great care of them, but can I ask why? As you said, she was secretive about them.”
“Because of her last entry.” Phillip picked up a pair of tortoiseshell glasses and settled them on his nose. He picked up the first journal and flipped to the back.
“I tried my best to share my gift with the world,” he read aloud. “I tried my hardest to be the best wife and mother I could be. I know I wasn’t always easy. I wasn’t always as open as I could have been. Here in my own words is my life. For those who wondered about my decisions and why I guarded my privacy so zealously, the answers lie within. When people write the history of Farrah Blake Mansfield, I want them to have the truth. I know you will demand they speak the truth, so I leave my journals to you, my partner in life, my dear Phillip, to do with as you see best.”
Alex looked to Fliss again. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “That was beautiful,” she said.
“She was a special woman.” Phillip closed the journal and slid the stack of books across the desk. “I expect you to return them to me in perfect shape.”
“We’ll treat them like newborn babies.” Fliss gingerly opened the journal and turned to the last page before passing the book to Alex.
Their fingers brushed as he took it. The spark of electricity was instant. Her eyes flew up to his before darting
away. Alex bit back a sigh and turned to their host. “Thank you, Phillip.”
Mansfield nodded again and clasped his hands together. “Great. Now let’s have brunch.”
Fliss shook her head. “I wish I could, but I have another meeting.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate.” The older man’s brows drew tight in confusion. He clearly wasn’t used to having his wishes denied.
“It is, but I’m sure Alex can stay.” At last, she looked his way for more than a nanosecond.
“I can stay. If it’s all right with you,” he said to Phillip.
Phillip considered him for a second. “That will be fine.”
“Great. I’ll take the journals back to the office with me. Thanks again for sharing them with us, Phillip.” Fliss stood and gathered the books. In a flash, she was gone.
Alex stared after her, his desire to go after her, be with her warring with his good sense.
“Son, I like you.”
Alex swiveled to face the man across the desk.
“I had my doubts, but you redeemed yourself,” Phillip continued.
Alex chuckled. What else could he do? His life was nothing but a comedy of errors. “Thanks.”
“With that said, you’re an idiot.”
Alex blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. From the moment you two walked into The Ivy a few weeks ago, I could tell you were crazy about each other.” He held up his hand. “Don’t deny it. You tried to hide it, but the way she hung on to your every word and the way you looked at her when she saved your behind, it reminded me of my wife and me. Fliss is a terrific actress, but even she couldn’t hide her sad state of mind today. You’ve been sporting the sorriest hangdog expression on your face since I opened the door, which can only mean one thing. You screwed up.”
Stunned, Alex searched his brain for a response. While everything Phillip said made sense, spilling his guts to a business colleague, a new one at that, seemed strange. Unprofessional. Mansfield didn’t break his regard, obviously willing to wait for a response.
Finally, Alex’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to think.”
