Relapse

by J. P. Nicholas

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Darren

  Alyssa spends the rest of the dinner with her hand on my thigh, grazing my hard-on every once in a while, just to torture me. Fuck, it works. I don't think I've ever been so turned on before in my life.

  I bring the rim of my glass to my lips and take a swig. The amber liquid burns as it courses down my throat. The alcohol warms me up, letting my body temperature match the inferno she sparked in my trousers. She skims her fingertips over the head of my palpitating cock. She's a bloody arsonist on a mission…to set me on fire.

  "If you're trying to punish me, it's working," I grit out as she strokes me under the table.

  She props her elbow on the table, holding her chin as she runs her forefinger across her plump bottom lip. Her brow raises. "Should I be punishing you for something?"

  My dick kicks against the fly of my trousers. "That depends on what you determine my punishment should be."

  Her hand lowers to cup my balls through my trousers. She applies just the right amount of pressure, taking me from a seven to need-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-here-now on the dickometer. Alyssa slants toward me. "What do you say we get out of here?"

  The noise that escapes from my lips can only be described as inhuman. It is certainly a sound I have never made before. Perhaps it's from my dick's vocabulary. Since he doesn't get out much, his language skills are seriously lacking.

  She's so damn assertive tonight, not afraid to claim what she wants. And that's so fucking sexy.

  Not wanting to waste another second, I raise my hand in the air and signal for the check. When the waitress brings it to me, I can't help but chuckle. On the bottom of the receipt is a handwritten note with a drawn smiley face accompanying it. I'm glad you enjoyed your appetizer. Just for that, I tack on an extra fifty dollars to her tip, well, because she's kind of the best fucking waitress ever.

  I drop the cash on the table, grab Alyssa's hand, and rush toward my Mini Cooper. I open the passenger-side door, restraining myself from biting her shapely arse as she steps inside. Once seated, I slam the door closed, round the hood, and position myself in the driver's seat. When I catch sight of her pouty lip in my peripheral vision, I shift my position until I'm facing her.

  "What's the matter?"

  "You drive a fucking Mini Cooper," she says on an exhale.

  I'm taken aback by her comment. I tilt my head, peeking my tongue out to moisturize my bottom lip. "I don't see how that's a problem. You knew I drove a Mini before dinner, so why the attitude change toward Victoria?"

  She raises an eyebrow in a silent question, so I decide to provide further clarification. I caress the leather steering wheel as I speak. "My Mini is named Victoria."

  Alyssa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Men and their incessant need to name their cars. I don't think I'll ever understand it."

  "You still haven't answered my question," I remind her, placing my hand on her thigh because I feel the need to touch her.

  "Because Victoria is a Mini, there won't be enough room for us to have sex in the back seat," she proclaims in an isn't-it-obvious kind of way.

  I gently stroke her inner thigh with my thumb. "You're too precious for car shagging. When I take you, I want you to be comfortable whilst I pamper you. Catering to your every need, want, and desire." I move my hand to caress her cheek. "Because that is what you deserve.”

  "Because both our houses are an hour away and we are in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, how do you expect me to wait a whole damn hour?"

  Fuck, fuckity fuck, fuck! For a man who usually plans everything, you sure did a crappy job planning this one. How did I neglect that major detail? I must've been so damn worried about keeping our relationship a secret that I overlooked that very important factor—the most important factor.

  I start ferociously tapping away at the touchscreen on my dashboard console.

  "What are you doing?" Alyssa queries, her sweet voice full of intrigue and suspicion.

  I finish inputting the address into Victoria's GPS and click the search button. A result comes up, prompting me to click it. "Finding us a blasted hotel."

  "Turn left onto South Merryman Boulevard," Victoria instructs in her preset feminine British accent. I'm not going to lie; it's nice to hear a dialect similar to my own, even if it is just a computer programmed one.

  I follow all of Victoria's directions, arriving at the hotel in about twenty minutes—way better than the hour it would've taken to drive home. It takes about another ten to get out of the car, enter the hotel, and book us a room for the night. We have a room booked on the seventh floor, not too shabby.

  With our hands intertwined, I parade Alyssa into the lift and use my body weight to pin her into the back corner. My eyes dip to her mouth as she runs her tongue across her bottom lip, willing me to kiss her. I'm apparently not fast enough because she grabs the lapels of my shirt, pulling myself into her mouth. She parts her lips for me, and I kiss her without holding back, darting my tongue inside.

  My hands roam to her ass, and I give it a squeeze as I hoist her up. She responds by curling her legs around my waist and draping her hands around the nape of my neck. Her tongue slides across my bottom lip before she sucks on it. My hands snake their way from one set of cheeks to the other. I cup her face, sliding my lips across hers before tasting more with each swipe of my tongue. Our tongues tangle and twine. I keep going until she's breathless.

  "Ahem!"

  The gravelly sound of somebody clearing their throat causes Alyssa to retreat from my mouth and end our kiss.

  "Sorry," Alyssa apologizes for the both of us. Although her apology may be sincere, mine is bloody not. I'm not sorry. She smacks my shoulder, gesturing for me to put her down. With reluctance, I do so, allowing her to stand upright again.

  I crane my neck to see who the fucker is that interrupted us. To my shock, it's an elderly woman with whom I assume is her grandson tucked in by her side. I avert my gaze toward the lift's buttons. Rage pumps through my veins when I notice that all of the buttons are illuminated. That little shite must've pressed them all when I was preoccupied!

  The lift stops on the second floor, where the elderly woman and her tosser of a grandson exit.

  "Little arsehole," I mutter under my breath as the silver doors close.

  Alyssa swats my bicep. "He's just a little kid."

  I nod. "Yeah, a little fucker that pressed every damn button."

  I watch her face drop when she notices that all the numbers are glowing. From three all the way to nine. Alyssa and I manage to control ourselves, keeping our hands away from each other as the lift stops on every frickin' floor.

  When the doors chime open on the seventh floor, Alyssa and I bolt down the hallway to room seventy-two. She snatches the keycard from my front pocket, which is hot as fuck, and smacks it across the door's sensor. It clicks as the sensor lights up green. I jostle the handle and swing open the door, kicking it closed when we are both inside.

  Instantaneously, her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt, popping them open one by one to expose my abs. When the last one comes free, I throw my shirt haphazardly against the floor. Her fingertips trace the ridges of my abs as they roam their way up my chest. They slide further until they rest on my shoulders.

  "Go sit on the edge of the bed," she growls, her assertive tone full of need and demand.

  I do as she says, plopping my arse on the end of the mattress as she tells me to stay put. Like I'm going anywhere. Nope. There's nowhere else I'd rather be right now than here. With her. Like it used to be. Like it should be. Like it is. I still haven't quite gotten around to believing that she's back in my life. Each day, or in this case night, feels like a dream. The kind you never want to wake up from.

  Alyssa kneels before me as she frantically unbuttons my belt. She yanks my trousers off, taking my red underpants with them as they both fall to a heap on the floor. My cock perks up, my balls heavy with both lust and longing. Man, is he happy to see her
. Based on the salacious grin curling her lips, that makes three of us.

  Her smooth touch feels heavenly as she starts to stroke my straining shaft. I groan as my shaft engorges further, thanks to her sweet caresses.

  "You like that?" she mocks. "You want me to do that again?"

  "Fuck, yeah," I grumble, closing my eyes as I lean my head back.

  She does it again, this time soliciting a long sensuous sigh from me. Alyssa teases me with her tongue as she licks the underside of my cock. So fucking good. Don't stop. Take me deeper. As if she read my mind, she parts her lips and engulfs the head with her soft, warm mouth.

  I groan toward the ceiling, the sound forming deep in my throat. Sucking sounds fill the air as she bobs up and down my shaft, making sure to swivel her tongue around the tip. Oh, fuck me. That feels good. I feel myself hit the back of her throat, but she doesn't stop. Alyssa continues pumping me, making sure not to just leave my balls hanging as she massages them with her fingertips.

  "Darling, if you don't stop now, I'm going to come down your throat," I warn on a shaky breath. She's got me on the edge of letting loose.

  Heeding my warning, she slides my cock out of her mouth, causing a popping sound to reverberate off the walls. I open my eyes again to meet her gaze. The fiery passion burning within her irises is infectious.

  With a nod, I gesture toward my pair of trousers on the hotel room floor. "I've got a condom in my wallet."

  Her gorgeous brown hair sways as she shakes her head. "No need. I'm on the pill. And we've both already discussed how we haven't been with anyone but one another."

  I raise my eyebrows, both in shock and anticipation, but I need a straight answer first. "Are you saying that you want me bare, sweetheart?"

  She flashes me her puppy-dog-eyed stare, similar to the one Wyatt has perfected over the years. "Please?"

  "I'm not going to fucking turn that down. Just know I won't last very long going in bare."

  She smiles. "I'll take my chances. Now, lay back and don't move."

  I obey her command yet again, lying flat on the mattress. I'm not sure what's gotten into her lately to cause her to be so commanding, but whatever it is, I bloody love it. There's something about a woman who isn't afraid to take what she wants. It just does something to me.

  I watch in agony as she unzips her dress and steps out of it. She lowers her baby blue bra straps down her shoulders before she unhooks the clasp, setting her perky breasts free from their fabric confinement.

  Alyssa straddles me, positioning my erection at her entrance. I fight back a groan as she slides down on me, her warm, slick pussy stretching to accommodate my full length. I rest my hands on her hips. A low rumble comes from deep within my chest as I lift her up until she's almost empty and slam her back down again. Her sultry moan hits me like bourbon, warming my insides while also putting me in a state of euphoria. I continue to ease in and out of her as she rides me, each time faster than its predecessor.

  She's in full control, and although I liked it at first, and still do, there comes a time for me to take the reins. That time is now. Tightening my grip on her hips, I roll us over, so she's below me.

  A saddened and shocked expression etches itself in her features. I want to say something to reassure her that this way will be much more enjoyable for her, but my mouth has other plans. I lean forward and circle her left nipple with my tongue.

  "Oh, dear God," she breathes out in an airy moan. I can feel the smug smirk forming on my face. She's really great for my ego.

  I tweak the nipple a few more times before I kiss my way over to the neglected breast, suckling it to give it a fair share of my attention. I'm still inside her, but I'm not moving, deliberately not providing her the friction she seeks. She lifts her hips, trying to grind herself against me. I put an end to that, pushing her hips back down.

  "Darren." My name falls off her lips in a plea. A breathy plea asking me to take her to the edge and back again.

  "Soon enough, sweetheart," I mumble around her breast. The vibration from my words must drive her crazy because she latches onto my hair and yanks it to pull my mouth toward hers. My mouth claims hers as they crash together in a heated frenzy. Our tongues dance with one another to the tune of our rapidly beating hearts. Our chests are pinned together as we kiss, allowing me to feel her heart beating frantically against mine.

  Her hands claw at my arse just to toy with me. Enough with this shite. I can't hold myself back any longer. I bury my face in her neck, kissing the tender skin as she wraps her legs around my waist. She screams with pleasure as I shove in and out of her soaked pussy. With my right hand, I cup her round, full breast, my thumb teasing her nipple. She gasps in response, wrapping her legs tighter around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders as I pound her relentlessly.

  "Oh, yes. Right there, Darren." Her encouraging words urge me on and amp me up even more because, apparently, that's possible.

  I edge back, wanting to see her face as I fuck her with long, harsh thrusts. Using my forearms, I lift myself up, repositioning myself. I exhale on a low whistle as the new position lets me take her deeper. Harder. She closes her eyes as her body shudders and her lips part on a sexy moan.

  "Come for me, baby." My words are all a guttural rasp from my mouth as my hips surge forward possessively.

  Her muscles clench around me tighter as her orgasm pulses around me. I draw a deep breath, letting it fuel me as I drive deeper through the trembling waves of her aftershocks. My balls tighten as I ease out and sink in further. With my left hand, I find her clit and circle it aggressively, causing her pussy to tighten around me as she comes again. This time, her clamping muscles milk my own orgasm out of me.

  When both our aftershocks cease, her body goes lax, and her legs drop from my waist. Spent, I collapse on top of her. We both try to catch our breath as the state of ecstasy washes over us. With my head resting on her breasts, I crook my neck to gaze into her sex-glazed eyes. I wonder what's going on in that pretty little head of hers.

  I swear she can read my mind because she opens her mouth to speak. "What made you change all those years ago?"

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Darren

  My body tenses at her words. What a perfect way for her to kill the post-coital buzz I was on. Does she really want to discuss this now? Based on the serious expression on her face, I don't think I'm going to get out of this conversation again. I was lucky enough to distract her the first time. This time, however, I won't be as lucky. I need to tell her. It's now or never. Although I prefer the latter, I know she will only accept the former. So, here goes nothing.

  "One second," I request as I dislodge myself from her, breaking our connection. I roll off her, and in turn, the mattress, and make my way to the adjoining bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth off the towel rack, I run it under warm water and strut back over to the bed. Using it, I clean her, causing her to hum sensuously as I massage her folds with the rag.

  When I'm finished, I chuck it across the room until it slaps across the tile floor in the bathroom. I lounge out next to her, prop my head to rest on my elbow, and heave a tiring sigh. "A few weeks before graduation, my father gave me a ring. He droned on about how proud he was of me for achieving a higher education and how impactful it was going to be in his company. I never told you this, but my father is the founder of Gracen Hotels in Europe. He's practically the British Barron Hilton."

  Alyssa fluffs her hair before parting it to her left side. I watch as the lustrous brown strands cascade down her shoulder and onto the white bedsheet. "So, your family has money?"

  I nod. "Loads of it."

  "Why didn't you tell me back then? That's not something to be ashamed of." A curious glint gleams in her eyes.

  "I'm not ashamed of it. It's just when I came over here, it was a relief that nobody knew who I was. Back home, everybody knew me. Or, more importantly, who I was related to. Everyone only saw pounds when they looked at me. I never knew whether people wanted to be
my mate because they actually wanted to, or because my father is rich. That's precisely why I chose to go to school here in the States. To get away from it all."

  She nibbles on the corner of her mouth before she speaks. "I can understand that. It must've been frustrating growing up with a dollar sign, or I guess pound sign, on your back. I can't imagine how lonely your childhood was."

  "Being that I'm an only child, very. But that's beside the point. When my father called, I told him that I wasn't going back home. That I didn't want to."

  That I found the girl of my dreams and am planning to marry her. I leave out that bit of information because I don't want her to feel any worse about leaving me than she already does.

  Alyssa furrows her brow. "Why didn't you?"

  I drag a frustrated hand through my hair. I don't like being this transparent, this vulnerable. I feel raw. To the point that I'm about to break. But despite my discomfort, she deserves to know. I've held off this conversation for too damn long. "Being the heir to his hotel empire was never something I asked for or wanted. I didn't want to run his business. I didn't share his passion or drive for it, and deep down, I think he knows that. But as soon as I told him that, he cut me out."

  "Out of what? His will?" Alyssa's voice is full of both intrigue and concern. It's both enticing and sweet. She's too fucking adorable for her own good.

  I clear my throat, fighting back the tears that start welling in my eyes as the memories of those weeks from Hell come rushing back. "My family. Parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, and everybody else in the Gracen bloodline just act as if I'm dead. Like I never existed at all. And that is what fucking hurts so damn much. I lost everything. But I told myself it would all be alright because—"

  "You had me," she chokes out, tears streaking down her face. "I'm such a bitch. When I left, you lost the only person you had left, right?"