“Do you want to talk?” he asks quietly.
“How come you ended up with me?” I ask.
“Because Maggie found me and installed me as her General Manager,” he answers with a smile, “nothing more than that. And I’m good at what I do, I suppose,” he adds.
Standing, he takes the strawberries to the sink. One by one he washes them and hulls them. “Got a bowl?” he asks, with a mouthful of strawberry. I point to the cupboard and he reaches for a small china cereal bowl. Using kitchen towel he dries the strawberries off before sitting down again.
“So you’ve a name for yourself, in the industry?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, I was just looking to move back to the UK and Maggie was looking for a General Manager. We just… well, I suppose we just got hooked up!” He shrugs, he’s modest. He takes another strawberry and pops it in his mouth. The act looks so erotic, or is it just James making it look so?
“You helped me yesterday, you helped me face up to my past and tell Ana what a bastard her father is,” I mumble.
“I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done for anyone else?” He looks at me and reaches for another strawberry.
I look at him as he eats the red fruit, “No, but you took charge, to guided me to acknowledge that I needed to tell Anna. What I mean is you didn’t take charge like Lewis, in a bad way, but in a guiding way, leading me.” I pause a moment, reflecting on my old life, “He was in charge, always, but nasty with it. Aggressive, treated me like a slave. You weren’t, you were firm but very kind. Thank you.” I give him just a little bit more information about my relationship with Lewis.
He spreads cheese on another bagel. “You don’t have to thank me, I would have done the same for anyone. Well, most people.” He takes a bite, looking at me and then down to my plate. “You haven’t eaten, you need to eat.” There’s no smile and his eyes are staring straight through me.
I pick up the bread and take a bite. The jam is sweet but the bagel is thick, chewy – and I’m not feeling hungry anyway. I don’t know if I can manage this, I don’t know if I can swallow the thick bread. I put it back down and stick to my tea.
“Not good?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I really don’t think I can manage it.”
He stands and walks around the island towards me. “Try some strawberries?” Picking up a large strawberry, he checks it over and puts it back. He picks another one up and checks that one over too.
“Open,” he demands.
I open my mouth and he holds the strawberry for me to take a bite. It’s sweet and juicy and so much more edible than the bagel.
“Is that good?” he asks, smiling.
“Mmm…”
The act has been so tender, so caring, something I’ve never experienced. I smile at him.
“They’re good for you,” he tells me as I smile.
His beautiful mouth curves into a wonderful grin, that sexy grin. “That’s better, Alex, you’ve a lovely smile.”
I finish my tea and glance at the clock. It’s still very early as I clear the plates away, rinsing them off before stacking them in the dishwasher.
“What are you doing today?” he asks, as he eats yet more strawberries.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like going to the hotel. I don’t feel like doing anything.” I sigh. “I feel like… like although a huge weight has been lifted, like I’ve just closed the door on a really bad place, that I need to move on, but can’t. Even though I’m away from the hostility and trauma I don’t see the brightness yet, but I want to.” I place my hand across my mouth for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I want to move forward, I have to move forward.”
My head is down and I hold onto the island and bear my weight down, pushing. “I have to move on… I know I do, but how?”
James comes up behind me and puts his arm around my waist. He pulls me close and gives me the most delicious hug, his chin on the top of my head, the smell of him, the softness of his shirt… I could melt right now, melt right into him.
“You can do this, Alex, you can – this isn’t the end, this is the beginning. The beginning of your new life,” he whispers.
I don’t know how to act, what I should be doing. Shit, I don’t even know how I should behave with a man, not really anyway. Should I tell him to go? Tentatively, I turn and put my arms around him and hug back. He’s so firm and warm, so comforting, like a happy place. I look up at him and his beautiful mouth as it turns into a smile. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead and pulls me closer, then takes my mouth, taking me completely by surprise, but the kiss is gentle and sweet, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this. His tongue flicks my bottom lip and I open for him. He explores my mouth and I moan. I moan like only a woman starved of love for so long can, I’m greedy for him, desperate to be loved, to be adored and worshipped.
I pull away slightly but he pulls me back. I can feel his erection straining against his fly as he kisses me again. His hand moves around from my waist to my front and he slides it gently into my robe, placing his palm on my breast. Through my t-shirt I can feel him rubbing his thumb over my nipple, working the hard little pearl, and I moan again.
“These… are stunning,” he grumbles against my cheek.
I pull away. “I can’t, James.” I’m flustered. “You must be ten years younger than me!” I pause. “The other women, the girls that come to see you…”
“So, what difference does that make?” He’s being firm again. “None of them are serious, they come to me for one thing and, well, I haven’t seen anyone since the day you showed up.” He looks down at me. “Alex, you did feel the attraction, from the moment we first met. Didn’t you?” he says, so quietly.
What do I say? “Yes,” I whisper back.
He pulls me close again. “You don’t want this?” he asks.
“I don’t know, it’s been so long,” I mumble. I pause and look down to the floor, the top of my head pressing against his hard chest. “I want to feel loved. I want some attention.” It’s what I crave, what’s been missing for so long.
He puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face to meet his. He stares into my eyes. “Let me worship your body. Come with me.” His voice is a low growl.
He clasps my hand and leads me from the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, closing the door with his bare foot whilst still holding onto my hands. He looks down at me, into me, and moves both of his hands around my waist, pulling me close, running his hand gently up and down my back.
“You do want this, don’t you?” he whispers.
“I think so, I… Yes, I do.” I’m saying the words, and I do want this but at the back of my mind I’m hoping that this won’t interfere with our working relationship. “James, I don’t even remember what I should do!”
He smiles, “Take your robe off.” His tone is firm yet sensual, almost a whisper.
I undo the belt and let the robe fall, pooling at my feet. I’m stood there in my t-shirt and knickers.
He kisses me again deeply, places his hands on either side of my face, holding me tenderly. Leaving one hand on my cheek, he moves the other gently down the side of my neck and further down towards my breast. He holds me tenderly through my t-shirt. Pulling away from me, he stands back and grasps the hem of my t-shirt. He pulls it up and off over my head and I feel totally exposed, standing before James in nothing but my white cotton knickers. “You’re stunning,” he whispers. I look at the floor. I don’t agree with what he says, at all.
“We need to lose these.” His thumbs slip inside the elastic of my knickers. Slowly he crouches down, pulling the soft white cotton with him as he goes. Once he gets to my ankles he lifts each one slowly, removing the offending garment and casting it aside.
What the hell am I doing? I’m standing in front of this fine man, who until just a few weeks ago was a stranger. I’m naked and he’s walking around me like I’m a prize cow at a cattle market.
“These,” he
says as he cups my breasts with his hands, “are exquisite.” His hands move gently down to my hips as walks around to my back, dragging his hands lightly over my skin as he goes, up across my ribs and down to my backside and back to my front. The feeling’s intoxicating. I quiver inwardly and feel so desperate, longing to be touched. “You have a fine figure, Alex.”
“Umm, it’s not perfect,” I mutter, looking down.
“Venus didn’t have a perfect figure!” he retorts. “You’ve a fine figure. You say it, Alex!”
“I… I can’t,” I say flatly.
“Say it!” he demands as he slowly runs his index finger between my breasts and down my stomach, continuing until he reaches my c-section scar. “Say it, Alex!”
“I… I’ve a fine figure,” I whisper, my head hung down looking at the floor.
“Look at me!” He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face so that I am looking directly at him. His mouth twitches into a slight smile. “You’re stunning, Alex Drake, you’ll do well to remember that!” He sounds like my old school teacher.
“Come here, come with me.” He leads me to the edge of my bed and turns me around, gently pressing my shoulders, forcing me to sit on the side. “Lie down,” he says as he picks my feet up and pulls them up so that that I’m lying on top of the crumpled duvet, unmade since I woke earlier, my head resting on the soft pillows.
I don’t fight it. I comply willingly, feeling so very turned on. He stands, just looking at me. I feel so vulnerable, lying bare with him just staring at me. He walks around to the other side of the bed, not taking his eyes off me, and then crawls over, lying down beside me. He cups my face, and brings his face towards mine so that our foreheads touch.
“You deserve the best, Alex, only the best,” he whispers. “How long has it been since anyone touched you?”
I look at him. I don’t know what to say. I say nothing.
“Alex, how long has it been since you had any kind of sexual contact?” he whispers.
I can’t bear to look at him. I turn away. “Years.”
“Have you missed being touched?” He shifts slightly, his fingers trailing little flicks across my hip. I quiver.
“Yes, yes, I’ve missed it,” I hiss, feeling so wanton.
I look at him. Part of me wants this so desperately and part of what he’s doing makes me feel like a whore. I hardly know him. Is he taking advantage of me? If he is, do I really care? Is this how Lewis treated his slappers? I’ve already told myself that my life needs to move on, I need to begin again. I can do this, I really can.
I’m breathing heavily, wanting this and yet not. Will this ruin the relationship I have with him? What if Anna comes in? Oh, I don’t know if this is right!
“Open your legs,” he says. He’s just lying next to me, no touching, just giving these orders and yet it feels so amazingly erotic.
“Are you wet yet, Alex?” he growls. Just his voice, what he’s saying, the words alone make me feel… Oh God.
“Yes,” I moan.
“That’s good, that’s really good.” He shifts himself, his lips upon my stomach, little flicks of his tongue around my belly button, then he traces the faint scar of my c-section.
“This isn’t hideous. This is a medal of honour… This shows that you have given life… Remember that, Alex!” His tone is so firm.
His hands drift slowly further down across my mound and into the tangle of fair curls. His fingers part my lips and his runs his forefinger across my clitoris. “Oh, so wet.” He circles his finger ever so lightly. It’s been so long since anyone has touched me there, it feels so good. I moan, writhing against his touch.
“Is that good?” His voice is low, gravelly and so sensual. He’s smiling.
“Umm.”
He moves his finger down a little and gently slips it inside me.
“So tight! It has been a long time.” He kisses my stomach again. I whimper as he withdraws and slips back in two fingers, his thumb circling my clit all of the time.
He builds a rhythm, fucking me with his fingers and I gasp, whimpering at his touch as he pleasures me unselfishly. It doesn’t take long before I’m teetering on the edge, and I think he knows.
He leans forward, his lips brush my ear. “Are you there, Alex?”
I whimper in response.
He increases his thrusts again and I fall apart, my muscles clenching his fingers, drawing them in. He keeps going through my climax until I’m completely spent, a quivering mess. He pulls his arms around me and holds me tightly as I grip hard onto his shoulders, my nails digging into him through his shirt, the effects of the orgasm petering out so slowly, my first in years. I take a deep breath, pulling myself together, and he looks at me.
“Good?” he mumbles against my cheek.
“Umm,” I gasp, I can’t speak.
“Turn over,” he demands, and despite being utterly spent, I do.
He moves himself again and straddles my thighs, placing his hands on my shoulders, and using the most exquisite movements he massages my back and spine. The feeling is delicious, his magic fingers working down my body, past my scars and back up again.
“These,” he delicately runs his fingers over the brand and iron scar that Lewis so cruelly left, “tell me that you’re a fighter, determined to carry on… Of course, in the case of these you really should have left him, but for the sake of your daughter you carried on. They are not to be ashamed of, consider them battle scars, in a battle that you will ultimately win.”
I lie still, thinking about his words. My scarred body, each scar telling a story – one happy, two bad. But he’s right, they’re battle scars and although the battle is long, uphill and hard, I will win! I think about Maggie, my mother, the woman who gave me life and then gave me up. She was never far away and even though she only gave me relatively small material things while she lived, in death she gave me the capital and the reason to leave that bastard of a husband of mine. How did she and my mum know what he was like? I don’t think I ever gave any of them any idea; she certainly never saw him in a rage, neither did my mum, I kept it firmly to myself. Mum always said that things always work out in the end, things turn around and no matter how bad they are, they will be good again.
I wiggle around onto my back and look at the gorgeous man sitting above me. “Thank you,” I mouth.
He bends towards me and places the most delicious, sensuous kiss on my lips. “You’re welcome.” He lies next to me, cuddling me, giving me the love that I have so badly missed, been deprived of over the years.
“Thank you,” I whisper again in his ear, “for everything.”
He squeezes me tight. We just lie there wrapped in each other’s arms, me naked and him fully clothed, still in his black trousers and white shirt that he brought me home in yesterday.
I don’t know how long we’ve been lying together when I glance at the clock. “Shit – it’s nine!” I jump out of his arms and off the bed. Hurtling through to my bathroom, I turn on the shower and brush my teeth again whilst the shower warms up. James follows.
“What’s the rush?” He looks through the glass screen.
I shrug. I have no idea, but it’s nine o’clock. Why is he watching me shower?
“Mind if I jump in?” He starts to remove his shirt. I glance around, shocked at the suggestion that he’s going to get in the shower in front of me! My God, he’s ripped, those abs, bloody hell. The trousers come down next, no boxers or briefs, commando! Now, there’s something I’ve not witnessed firsthand before. Hell, I am so naïve! And look at that, that thing!
He’s no inhibitions. He pushes his trousers to the floor and steps out of them, his manhood erect and aiming straight for me as he stands in front of me in my walk-in shower. He grabs my arms and pulls me to his embrace. I can feel his raging hard thing pressing against my stomach. He is so fine. I look down and see the tiny bead of pre-cum at the tip of the soft round head.
“Come with me,” he growls as he pulls me further into the
shower. He holds me tightly as we both stand under the rainfall shower. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he lets them fall to my backside. We’re both soaked. He cups my arse and pulls me up against the wall.
“Wrap your legs around me.” He doesn’t do requests, he issues commands. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close, his lips find mine, and we kiss passionately as his tongue invades my mouth. He pulls me higher and gently nudges his cock towards my opening, then he thrusts.
“God. You’re so fucking tight,” he grumbles.
I quiver and moan. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex that the invasion feels alien, I feel so very full. He moves his mouth to my neck where he places little kisses down towards my collar bone. He pumps into me, establishing a slow rhythm. I feel overwhelmed and wanted, his cock gently massaging that little bunch of nerves inside me.
“I feel, I…” I’m gasping.
“I know,” he grumbles, “I know, but wait,” he demands, working himself faster and deeper into me, until on one last push he shouts, “Now!”
I explode around him. He keeps on moving, emptying himself completely, and he stays inside me. We’re wrapped around each other; finally he withdraws, semi-erect, and places a sensuous kiss upon my lips. We just stand, holding each other for a moment, the water caressing us both. I don’t want to move but know that I must. I turn and reach for my shampoo.
“Give it to me.” He takes the shampoo off me and squirts a dollop into his hand, lathering it into my hair, his fingers giving such an intense head massage that it puts my hairdresser’s attempts to shame.
“Rinse,” he says as he guides me under the shower, repeating the process with the conditioner before washing his own hair. He reaches for the shower puff and pours some of my favourite coconut shower gel into it. He washes my body, gently and thoroughly. “Rinse,” he says again, I could get used to this! I rinse the soap suds away and he slaps my arse. “You’re done!” He laughs. “Off you go!”
I walk out of the shower, giving him a stare as I do. I grab a couple of towels from the rack, wrapping my hair in one and drying off with the other. He turns the shower off and flaps his hand out from behind the screen. “Got a towel, please?”
Freeing Alex (The Alexandra Drake Series) Page 9
