"Wow. Am I the first one here?" I ask.
Alex's eyebrows squish together.
"For the party?" I continue.
A bemused smile crosses Alex's face and he chuckles.
Warmth floods my neck and cheeks. "There is no party."
Alex's eyes dance in amusement and he shakes his head.
Alone with Alex Stone.
My head is screaming that I know very little about this man, other than what the entertainment websites report. There could be many reasons Alex Stone is not married—and has apparently never had a long-term relationship with a woman.
My brain fills in the blanks with scenes from my own past—a past that includes control and beatings. He definitely exhibits control, but there's nothing cruel in his manipulations. I hope my gut is correct about him.
"Why did you think there was a party?"
"It's my mistake. I made an assumption. That's all."
"Are you disappointed?" He gazes at me with those beautiful blue eyes. "Or do you think you can stand a trip up the coast with only me?"
I sigh dramatically. "I'll make do, I guess."
Alex chuckles and squeezes my hand. If nothing else, at least I entertain him with my apparent naïveté.
We descend the stairs from the wheelhouse, and Alex quickly walks me through the suite. Across from it is a lower lounge with a wraparound couch, round glass coffee table, and a packed bookcase.
I stop dead in my tracks and tug on Alex's hand.
"I take it you like to read, Miss Tate?"
I nod and tilt my head to read the spines. Outside of the courtroom, I love curling up with a good book.
Alex leans over, his breath on my neck. "Would you like to see the rest of the boat?"
I chuckle. "Yes, please continue."
Down a short hall, we enter a large stateroom. The queen bed butts against the bow of the ship as large windows on either side sit at the water line and offer a unique perspective of the marina and town just beyond.
"So what do you think?" Alex steps closer to me.
I think I want to kiss you. Hard.
My mouth is dry. I try to swallow. I shrug. "It's a cute little boat."
Alex's face falls, and his eyes widen. And I can't help but laugh.
Finally, he shakes his head, and a grin spreads across his face. "Smart-ass."
He lifts my bag from my shoulder and tosses it onto the bed. "Feel free to look around and make yourself at home. I'm going up top to get us underway." He lifts my hand, brushes his lips across my fingers, and heads out the door.
Not long after Alex's departure, the boat moves out of the harbor. I watch the town slowly disappear and mentally run through the whys and whats of my little excursion out to sea with Alex Stone. In many ways, he's exactly the sort of person I should date. There's no chance of a messy long-term relationship. He's rich, sexy, and emotionally unavailable. I'd be crazy to pass up this opportunity. I'm not in the market for a serious boyfriend. That sort of commitment ultimately leads to control-freak behavior, and I've had my fill of that with John.
Now, I'm looking for a hot guy, fun, and no strings attached.
I grab a couple of waters from the fully stocked fridge in the galley and ascend into the sun. Alex is behind the controls, looking out over the water, and I marvel at how a man can be three-hundred-and-sixty degrees of sexy. He looks totally at ease, guiding us through the water, the wind slightly blowing his hair and catching his shirt. Dark-lensed Oakley sunglasses sit on his tanned face and make him damn irresistible.
He glances over at me, flashes a heart-melting smile, and I blush like a teenager.
Trying to regain my composure, I hand him a bottle of water and turn to look out over the sea.
"Thanks." He takes a long draw from his bottle. "I was getting worried you'd gotten lost down there."
"Your boat is not that big," I chide him.
He grasps his chest. "Miss Tate, you wound me."
"I apologize, Mr. Stone. I promise not to make any other disparaging remarks about the size of your...boat."
His eyes cut sideways at me, and I shrug. Alex's playfulness completely astounds me. He was such an arrogant prick when I first met him. Now, he's laid-back, joking, and not at all the man I expected him to be.
"This is amazing," I marvel as we swiftly make our way over the water.
We're in the middle of nowhere. No other signs of life, except for a few seagulls that seem to be following us. I'm in awe of how quickly we have left civilization and are now completely alone.
"I think so, too," Alex says, a smile on his face as he looks out over the bough. "I love it on the water. No traffic, no meetings. Just me and the water”—he looks over at me—"and now, you."
I can't help but wonder how many times he's used that line on other women. I decide not to dwell on it and just live in the moment. It's been such a long time since I've actually had fun, and I intend to take full advantage of Alex Stone.
"Have you been doing this long? Boating, I mean?" I sit in the first mate's chair next to him, kick off my flip-flops, and pull my feet up onto the seat.
He nods."My dad always had a boat or two around when I was growing up. Nothing this big. He likes them smaller. Says they are more manageable in the port, which really just means he can't handle a boat this size."
"But you can?"
Alex pulls his sunglasses down and peers over the top, raising his eyebrows. "I thought you were abstaining from making statements regarding the size of my boat?"
I nearly spit my water. I throw my hands up in surrender. "In my defense, it was a question, not a statement. But I will decline comment on size issues from here on out—directly or indirectly."
Alex shakes his head. "Lawyers."
I laugh, amazed at how comfortable I feel around him. "So do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"One brother, two sisters. I'm the oldest, and then Patty, Will, and Ellie."
"Wow. Big family."
Alex nods. "And you?"
"Only child." I quickly suck on my water bottle. This is not a topic I want to discuss.
"Really?"
"Really. Paul and Ryan—my friends who came down last night from New York—they're like brothers and the closest thing I have to siblings."
He tilts his heads and peers over at me. "How did the three of you meet?"
"College. We lived together. I credit myself with getting them together. They live together in New York now."
"So, where do your parents live?"
Oh, hell. I hate talking about my screwed up family and nontraditional childhood.
"My dad died while I was in college. My mom and I don't speak. She took off when I was young and never looked back. I get postcards and notes occasionally. She's remarried—husband number five, I think. The last I heard, she was living somewhere in the Pacific Northwest." I take another long drink of water and pray he'll let this drop.
"Ever thought of getting in touch with her? I mean, you only have one mom."
I snort. "Thank God for that."
Alex is quiet for a moment. "That bad?"
"Yeah. That bad." I polish off my water. There’s an awkward pause. Time to shift the conversation back to him. ”It must have been nice having built-in playmates growing up.”
I usually hate these types of stories because they highlight my lack of a normal upbringing. But I need to get away from talking about my past and that overrides any self-centered negative feelings on my part. Besides, he's being so forthcoming about his personal life with me. I’d be foolish to let the opportunity to get to know him better slip through my fingers.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” A quirky grin plays across his face. “It was different for me. I was the oldest and had to be the responsible one—look out for the other, and all. He glances over at me.
Oh, yeah, I know all about being a kid with adult responsibilities.
“We did have fun, though,” he says. “When Will was around four-
years-old, he decided he was a dog.”
“A dog?” I ask.
He nods. “He would scurry around on all fours, wanted to eat out of a bowl on the floor.” Alex chuckles. “My mom caught him in the nick of time one day, trying to drink out of the toilet.”
“Eww, gross.” The mental imagine of a little boy with his head in the toilet and a young mom pulling him out makes me chuckle. “I hope he didn’t dig a hole under the fence and escape the yard.”
“No hole, but he did get out of the house one afternoon. Buck-ass naked.” Alex laughs and wipes tears from his eyes. "He was peeing on the neighbors trees—fire hydrants, mailboxes—you name it, it got a squirt. because he was convinced he was a dog."
I nearly laugh myself out of the chair and onto the deck.
My head falls back against the seat. I close my eyes, and the hypnotic movement of the boat against the water calms me. The salt air is a tonic, working with the heat of the sun to relieve stress. It’s no wonder Alex loves coming out here. It totally cleanses the body and renews the mind and soul.
The boat slows to a stop, and the sound of a chain going through the hole at the front bow pulls me back to reality. I open my eyes.
Alex is standing in front of me.
"You look right at home out here." He leans back against the navigation panel.
"It's so beautiful and relaxing. I can see why you love it so much." I tip my head back so the sun hits my face again.
"Do you go boating often?"
"Nope." I lift my head and gaze at him. "Oddly, not many of my friends have big-ass yachts."
Alex chuckles. "I see. Well, you're welcome on mine anytime. You're a stunning addition."
"Ha! I bet you say that to all the girls."
Alex stares at me, his eyebrows knitted together. "You're the first person I've ever invited out here with me."
"Seriously?" I shake my head. "I thought this party barge would be packed with scantily clad...people...every weekend."
Alex shrugs. "I like having things to myself. I come out here to get away from everything and everyone. I don't have to play any of the games out here. It's peaceful. Simple. And I want it all for myself." He shifts his gaze to me. "I'm not real big into sharing my special finds."
I shift in my seat. This is a side of Alex Stone I was not expecting. "So why am I here?"
He rubs his chin for a minute. "You're the first person I've ever wanted to share this with. That day—when you stopped to fix my car—there was just something different about you. So different from any other woman I've met. You intrigue me, and I want to get to know you better. Besides"—he leans closer to me—"this way, I get you all to myself and get to share your beauty with the sea."
I blink rapidly. My heart is racing. I take a deep breath, cock my head to the side, and raise one eyebrow. "Nice touch there at the end, Mr. Stone."
"I thought so, Miss Tate."
He closes the distance between us and places his soft lips against mine. It's a sweet tender kiss. I expect him to pull away, but instead, he tilts his head to one side56 and grasps my chin with his finger and thumb. His lips push against mine, I part mine, and our tongues slide over each other in an erotic introduction.
I slip my hand to the back of his head, and let my fingers run through his hair, gently at first. But this man can kiss like no other man I’ve known. There’s a storm brewing inside me, an erotic twister of lust and passion. I grasp his hair and pull the needier I become. I can't even remember the last time I kissed a man, but I have never been kissed like this before. Every inch of my body is alert, tingly, and hot.
He caresses my face and sends warm shivers down my spine. Every nerve ending in my body tingles. I’m as anxious as a girl being kissed for the first time. Really kissed—by someone who knows what he’s doing. And, boy, does Alex Stone know what he’s doing. My body hums with every stroke of his tongue against mine.
Alex pulls away, playfully biting my bottom lip before he releases it, and leans his forehead against mine. Lifting his head, he gives me a quick hard kiss. "We have reservations at six. I have to drive the boat, and you have to put on some clothes."
We stand there, looking at each other for a moment. I'm so close I can almost kiss him.
I lean in. His breathing hitches. Oh, I make you anxious, too. Good to know. My mouth is within a half inch of his. I part my lips, sigh, and saunter away.
"If you insist," I call over my shoulder, playfully bat my eyelashes at him as he gazes after me.
I emerge onto the main deck and find Alex standing at the edge, waiting patiently for me. He winks at me and gestures toward the steps leading onto the dock. I place a light wrap around my shoulders.
Nuzzling his nose close to my ear, he moves his hand to my lower back. "Very nice dress, Miss Tate. So soft, like you," he whispers.
I slightly turn my head. "So glad you like it, Mr. Stone."
We walk hand in hand to a small gray-and-white clapboard dockside restaurant. People are milling about outside, waiting to get a table. Alex guides me through them, and we make our way inside.
The maître d' glances at Alex, shakes his hand, and leads us through the dimly lit dining room. Music plays softly in the background. We reach the rear of the dining room, and I wonder if we're eating in the back parking lot as we pass through a door onto a private patio.
Ivy-covered lattices on either side of the piazza open to a spectacular view of the ocean. White lights are interspersed throughout the ivy, giving the area a warm glow. The white linen-covered table has a sea glass candle centerpiece that casts tiny flickers of light across the surface. A bottle of champagne chills in an ice bucket to the side.
Alex pulls out my chair, and I sit. He leans in close to me, and God, he smells so good. Woodsy and musky. I fight the urge to turn my head and kiss him.
"I hope you don't mind being out here. I want you to myself tonight," he whispers in my ear.
"I don't mind at all," I say.
I'm dreaming. This whole experience with Alex is surreal. It's baffling the measures he's taking to show me such a good time. Not that I mind in the least. Why not let him spoil me? Reality will return soon enough, and all this will become a story I'll tell when I'm old and trying to relive my youth.
Alex takes the seat across from me as a waiter appears and opens the bottle of champagne. Pouring each of us a glass, he replaces the bottle into its ice bath and turns his attention toward Alex.
Alex looks at me, his boyish and handsome face beaming, and it sends warm shivers through me. "There are a few dishes I love here, if you'll allow me to order for both of us?"
"Order away." I'm happy to let him make the food decisions so I can soak up the sights and sounds around us.
“We’ll start with the oyster,” Alex says, and hands the menus to the waiter. “And the brown butter lobster for the entrée.”
The waiter nods and leaves.
“I hope you like seafood,” he says, glancing at me before quickly looking away. “Probably should’ve asked before I ordered.”
My heart performs a weird little flutter and flip in my chest. Alex Stone embarrassed is adorable.
“Love it,” I say, and take a sip of champagne. “I’m a firm believer that people who don’t like seafood or coffee should not be trusted.”
“I like the way you think.” He smiles, and I nearly melt into a puddle on the ground. No wonder he has women falling at his feet. Alex Stone could charm the devil out of hell with that smile.
The evening sky is clear as the sun starts its slow descent. The seagulls sing out as they swoop down to the ocean to find their evening meal. We're in our own world, and I can't help but appreciate the exclusivity of this moment.
I wonder exactly where we are? Maine? I could ask Alex, but for now, I like that it's a mystery.
I'm giving into this billionaire playboy very easily. Ryan and Paul will be shocked that I haven't calculated the risks associated with getting involved with Alex Stone.
> Of course, my new free spirit is partly their doing. During the seventh-inning stretch the previous night, Ryan dropped, "When was the last time you went out on a date, K?"
"Date?" I paused. "What is a date?"
"Geez, K. You need to dust yourself off, get back on the horse, and go for a ride." Paul raised his eyebrows and thrust his hips a couple of times.
I stared at him for a moment and then resumed singing, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."
Ryan turned to me. "Paul's right...albeit, crude. But you've got to get out there and live, darlin'."
I roll my eyes. "That's easier said than done."
I've always been cautious and measured to some degree, but those particular traits are magnified since my relationship with John. When that ended, I vowed I would never allow a man control me again. Recalling what I'd become while I was with John mortifies me. The loss of control was so subtle, I had no idea what I'd given up until it was nearly too late.
Something about being with Alex though makes me want to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment without overanalyzing the situation or assessing the outcome. Maybe it's the understanding that this has no chance of going any further that is so liberating. It allows me to have fun without looking too closely at the inevitable—that after this weekend, Alex Stone will likely move on to another woman.
Alex raises his glass of champagne and tilts it toward me. "Thanks for coming with me today. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. Spending time with you has been fun."
"Thanks for inviting me." I tap the rim of my glass against his. "And here's to an equally entertaining evening."
Alex smiles. The candlelight dances in his eyes, and casts a mysterious and provocative glow on him. Suppressed lust and desire course through my veins. All I can focus on is what it would be like to have this man on top of me. The feel of my hands gripping his shoulders as his muscles flex with every thrust into me, his woodsy, masculine scent mixing with his sweat, and those piercing blue eyes forcing me to see only him.
I shift in my seat, cross my legs tighter, and try to get my X-rated thoughts under control.
Of Demons & Stones: A Tri-Stone Trilogy Page 4
