by Rowe, Julie
She put her lips on his and licked. He tasted as good as he looked.
He shivered as she teased one of his nipples, then groaned as he grasped the back of her head and lifted her face to meet his kiss.
Pleasure rippled through her, heating her blood, the pit of her stomach, feeding a hunger for him that seemed to only get stronger every time he touched her.
His hands came down her back and curved over her buttocks, lifting her into him, pressing his erection against her pelvis. Lord, he wasn’t a small man.
She fumbled with his pants and managed to get the button undone and the fly down. Her hand stroked him over his underwear. Nope, not small at all.
He groaned and pulled her hand away. “Too much of that and we’ll have to start all over.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He chuckled. “I’m only looking out for your best interests.” One of his hands abandoned her butt for her breast. He stroked and pinched until she was ready to attack him.
“I can see that,” she said, breathing hard. “Your dedication is admirable, but I want this off.” She tugged at his pants, then sank to her knees in front of him. With his hands cupping her face, she was able to focus on getting him out of his clothes.
She pulled his pants and underwear off at the same time. His cock bobbed as it came free, the hard length pointing up towards his abdomen.
“Now you see, if everyone knew that your cock and your nose shared similar size attributes, no one would ever say it’s too large.”
He laughed and she put her mouth on him, letting her tongue have its way. His laugh transformed into a deep shiver and he pulled her to her feet. “Your turn.”
He tugged at her jeans and peeled them down, leaving her underwear on. She moved to get rid of them, too, but he stopped her. “No, leave them on for now.”
“You like the tease?”
“I like naughty and I don’t want to rush.” He kissed her as he walked her backward toward the bed. “I want to take my time and find every place on your soft skin that brings you pleasure.”
She stroked his erection. “So do I.”
“You’ll get your chance.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest. “I promise.” He kissed her and bore her down to the bed. His mouth went to her neck and earlobe, then he nibbled his way across her collarbone and down to one breast. His teeth carefully gripped her nipple while his tongue lashed it. Pleasure whipped through her.
He settled himself between her thighs, then switched to the other breast.
She arched her back and pressed him closer. “I’ll give you fifty years to stop that.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s long enough.” He trailed open-mouth kisses down her abdomen, then splayed her open with his hands on her knees and nibbled at the spot where her thighs and pelvis met.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, fisting the bedding. “I had no idea that was an erogenous zone for me.”
One hand held her down while the fingers of his other slipped under her panties, teased her clitoris, then carefully penetrated her. “Hot and wet.”
She wiggled. “Impatient.”
He tested her again, and she nearly came off the bed. “Tight.”
“Tease.”
“I’m going to go slow,” he said, drawing out the last word into a groan.
She lifted her head and stared at him incredulously. “Are you trying to kill me?”
His grin dripped sin. “Only in the best way.”
“Well, I’m dying now.”
He pushed up and pulled her panties down her thighs, then tossed them on the floor. He sat back on his haunches and studied her, his gaze traveling her body until he met hers. “Gorgeous.” He pulled open a drawer on the bedside table, pulled out a condom, and rolled it on.
She took in his toned muscles, aroused body and the desire on his face. “I ache for you.”
That seemed to drive him wild. He dove down to kiss her, made room between her thighs and teased her with the head of his cock. He entered her, and it felt so good to be connected so intimately to him.
He did go slow. Much, much too slow.
“God, you feel huge.” Like he was becoming part of her.
“I promise to be careful.” He pressed deep only to stroke out and press back inside.
“Careful is going to kill me.” She rocked her hips up. “I need faster.”
“I think you can wait,” he whispered into her ear as he slowly drove her insane with his measured, controlled thrusts.
She opened her mouth to beg, but he kissed her before she could make a sound.
His kisses should be illegal. They destroyed all rational thought and made her want nothing more than to stay in bed with him for days. Weeks. Years.
He abandoned her mouth and licked his way down her neck to her collar. “Arch your back,” he ordered in a husky voice. “I want your nipples in my mouth.”
She had no wish to deny him and gave him what he asked for. The sensation of his mouth suckling her while he plunged in and out was almost more pleasure than she could bear. “Please, faster,” she moaned. “I’m so close.”
He groaned and gave her what she asked for. Thrusting deep, the pleasure had her crying out. An ache began to build as he moved in and out, speeding up.
She grabbed her knees and pulled them back to her chest, changing the angle of his entry. “Oh God, right there.”
“Yes,” he hissed, and fucked her harder. Over and over.
Her orgasm slammed into her, turning her inside out, her body clutching at his.
He groaned, thrust twice more, then jerked against her as his own orgasm overtook him. Breathing deep, he buried his face against her neck.
She stroked his head, threading her fingers through his hair. “Wow.”
Body shaking, he lifted his head and she saw he was laughing. “Wow is right.” He pulled out, took off the condom, got up, and tossed it into a trash can on the other side of the bedside table. He came back to the bed and gathered her up in his arms. “Next time, it’ll be at least an hour.”
She ran her finger over his lips. “I can’t wait.” She kissed him, then kissed him again. “I love your kisses.”
…
Alex could have stared into Calla’s happy gaze for hours. But her hands drew his attention down as she stroked his chest and lower. “Hmm, I think you’re up to no good, Doctor.”
“Who, me?” Her smile could charm the largest despots in Hollywood. “I promise I’m up to plenty of good.”
“Oh yeah? I think you should tell me exactly what good plans you have.”
“Well, I thought I’d start with kissing you. You do funny things to my insides with your kisses.”
“Funny things? Is that an official medical diagnosis?”
She laughed. “Absolutely. Then I want to taste you…everywhere. Though…” She ran her index finger down his chest. “There are places I’d like to nibble on more than others.”
“Doctor, I’m shocked. You’re far more naughty than I thought.”
“Disappointed?”
“Nope. Inspired.” And proved it by tasting her delicious mouth again. He took her hands and pinned them on the bed. “Very inspired. In fact, I think I need to taste you all over so I can decide what I want first.”
She tried to tug her hands free, but not very hard. “When will I get my turn?”
“Later. Eventually.”
“Why does that sound so good?”
He moved lower and lower until he tasted her essence. At the first touch of his tongue on her clit, she shivered and pressed upward. He took that as a silent demand for more and made it his mission to bring her to orgasm once more.
Watching her succumb to pleasure made him hungry to do it again. And again. And again. When she almost immediately fell asleep, he had to stifle his laughter and reign in his need to see her fly.
Though she did snore a little.
Alex considered telling her when she woke up,
but some truths were best left unsaid, unless the subject came up, of course.
Calla lie next to him on her side with him curled around her body from behind, spoon-like. Despite being a lot shorter than he was, she fit perfectly in his arms. She fit in other ways as well. Her sense of justice mirrored his own. Her willingness to help others, and her wicked sense of humor when life wasn’t trying to be funny at all.
Until now, being completely honest had been easy.
Now, he felt like he was standing on the edge of a knife that would cut him in two if he stepped wrong.
His truth had changed. He’d gone from an emotionally distant, intellectually driven man of the law, to an emotionally entangled man in love with a woman who was far, far too good for him.
He was lying to her. He told her he didn’t care what people thought of him, yet he cared about her opinion. He claimed their relationship was fake when he wanted it to be real. He sent her flowers and poetry, then claimed to know nothing about it.
He was lying to her, and he didn’t know how to stop or even if he wanted to.
Chapter Thirteen
Alex woke first. He lie there, breathing in Calla’s scent and let himself wallow in it.
For five minutes.
The world wasn’t going to wait for them to stagger out of bed when they felt like it. Too bad, he’d be happy to spend a week with her in bed. Moving to a hotel with room service sounded like an even better idea.
He took a quick shower, then made coffee and breakfast.
Calla stumbled into the kitchen and glared at him.
“What?”
“You look disgustingly rested,” she said, plunking herself down on a chair.
“You look deliciously disheveled.” He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Scrumptious.”
Calla sighed, rolled her eyes, and tried to hide her grin. “You’re such a guy.”
He served breakfast and they chatted about inconsequential things as they ate. A few minutes after Calla went to have a shower, the phone rang.
He checked the display, then hit talk. “Good morning, Helen.”
“Alexander, what on earth are you doing?”
“Cleaning my kitchen. Why?”
“I’m getting calls from the media and clients. There are more pictures of you and Calla on a bunch of entertainment websites. They’re saying you two are in a relationship and Jeff MacKay is commenting every chance he gets, saying you’re both lying, which I don’t understand at all.”
Alex strode to his briefcase and pulled out his laptop. He put his name into the search engine, then whistled in disbelief. “Jeff MacKay is going to talk himself into a hole he won’t be able to get out of.” Alex began reading the headlines on various entertainment news sites and blogs. “How fun, he’s made me out to be the big bad wolf.” He kept reading. “Well, at least he isn’t attacking Calla so much as claiming she’s been misled, but he’s crazy if he thinks he can get away with attacking the Clarke family without serious repercussions.”
“He’s making you the villain.”
“And himself the rescuing hero,” Alex said with a grunt. “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“The only thing our damsel in distress is interested in doing to our hero is kicking him in the ass.”
“What’s going on, Alex?” Helen sounded worried, which meant things were even worse than she was saying. “Are you two in a relationship?”
“Tell your clients with questions that MacKay is on drugs.”
Calla chose that moment to walk into the kitchen looking rested and ready for the day.
Alex didn’t take his eyes off her as he spoke to Helen.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I can’t tell them that.” Helen’s voice revealed her impatience and irritation.
“Okay, tell them Jeff MacKay is mistaken. Calla Roberts isn’t just in a relationship with me,” he took a deep breath and told his first big, huge, hairy lie in years. “We’re going to be announcing our engagement.” It was a lie that fit the situation. A lie that answered questions, but lowered Calla’s profile on the press’s radar. “She’s not after me for my money or because she has a secret desire to become an actress, and I’m not after her for her skills as a plastic surgeon. MacKay is attempting to make something out of nothing to take the focus off himself and his bad driving decisions.”
“That,” Helen said slowly, coldly. “Is as good as a declaration of war. Are you sure you want me to say it like that?”
Alex went to the front window. A couple of photographers were standing casually near the end of his driveway, waiting for anyone to show themselves outside. Great.
“Yes, I think I do.”
…
Calla snorted after Alex ended the call and said, “That moron gets uglier every time he opens his mouth.”
“True,” Alex said with a grin. “Unfortunately, he’s attempting to disrupt the smooth running of Seacliffe with his wild stories of unrequited love.”
“He’s not.”
“He is.”
The mess kept getting worse and worse by the minute. “What’s Helen going to do?”
“She’s attempting to stay out of it.”
“I’m going to get fired. That spoiled brat is going to get me fired.” She covered her face with her hands as her stomach dove down into the carpet beneath her feet. She couldn’t afford to get fired. Her brother depended on her. She’d lose everything, her car, her house. How was she going to pay for Richard’s medical care?
Jeff MacKay was a disaster of hurricane proportions, and he was smashing her life to smithereens.
A warm hand came to rest on her shoulder. She lifted her face to see Alex standing next to her with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s sit down and plot some evil plans.”
“Okay.” She trudged farther into the kitchen and sat at the island, took a sip of coffee, and attempted to pull herself out of a headfirst funk.
“I think we need to show everyone, including MacKay, that he’s trying to deflect attention from him to you, by formally announcing our engagement. So far, our attempts to show him as a liar seem to have only added to his motivation to smear our relationship.”
Alex said it matter-of-factly like their relationship was one of convenience when they’d spent the night together doing things only lovers do.
She sucked in a deep, pain-filled breath and tried not to think about how much Alex’s cavalier attitude hurt. “He doesn’t like to lose.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“What does he think he can gain?”
“He thought you were the weak link. He’s trying to discredit you and now me.” Alex touched her hand. “He’s getting desperate.”
“So, he’s trying to make me look like an incompetent woman in love? That’s crazy.”
“That’s Hollywood and it’s crazy enough that people might believe it, because in this city, stranger things have happened.”
She put her head in her hands. “What the fuck ever.”
“I think it’s time we bring out the big guns.”
Calla looked at him. “Big guns?”
“My grandmother and her party planning skills.”
He had to be kidding. She stared at Alex, open mouthed for several seconds before he noticed and asked, “What?”
“Don’t you think that’s taking this too far?”
“Not if it shuts MacKay up.”
“But the expense…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex scoffed. “Grandmother loves throwing these kinds of things. She’ll be in heaven and she’s got money to burn.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He brandished a finger at her and stood up. “This is going to be fun. I’m going to get dressed and then we’ll head over to my grandmother’s house to get this party underway.”
She watched Alex stride off, wondering if her stomach was ever going to get to stay where
it belonged. It seemed like every five minutes or so she was going into shock over something someone said or did.
“I should have stayed in Chicago,” she said to herself while rubbing her churning stomach. Maybe getting dressed and pretending she wasn’t a character in an overwritten soap opera would help.
She opened her suitcase and searched through it for something to wear. Jeans, T-shirts, and one sweater. Not very haute couture, but it was all she had. She dressed and waited for Alex, glaring out the window at the photographers she could see by the gate.
“Ready to go?”
She turned. Alex wore a pair of dark slacks and a light blue silk shirt that brought out his eyes. “I love that shirt on you.”
“Oh,” he said, looking down at himself. “Thanks. My grandmother gave me this for Christmas.”
“Smart, wearing her gift.”
“Well, prudent anyway. Shall we?”
“Might as well.”
They got into Alex’s car and backed out of the garage, leaving them at the mercy of the photographers for several seconds.
As she watched the flashes go off, the car idling in place, inspiration struck. “Alex?”
He turned to look at her.
She kissed him. A long, deep, drink of him. She could have sipped at his lips for hours, but they pulled apart, reluctantly, after a few moments. Alex stared at her, his gaze dark with desire and she couldn’t help remembering what they’d done together last night.
“You had a question?”
“You answered it and those assholes took pictures of it.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “You’re sneaky, Doc. I like it.” He focused his attention to driving past the photographers who had clustered around the car, shouting questions. That smile didn’t leave his face as they left the reporters behind.
The drive to Maddy Clarke’s mansion was quiet.
Did he think she’d only kissed him so the photographers could take their picture? Yes, she wanted photos of them kissing in the newspapers on the internet, but that was just the excuse she needed to kiss him in the first place. She sure as heck hadn’t made love to him for the publicity.
Made love?
