Page 89 of Alec’s Dream

Macy’s smile broadened to blinding and he knew she was better than good.

Thank fuck.

“If I told you that was the best sex I ever had, would it go to your head?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Then never mind.” She giggled. “I’ll amend to, it was all right.”

Alec chuckled then begrudging pulled his cock free, holding the latex in place. Once free, he shucked the rubber, tied the end, and tossed it into the trash.

“Too late, Macy,” he said as he turned back to face her. Seeing where her eyes had gone to, he smirked. “Gotta give me at least ten minutes, sweetness. And next time, we’re in my bed. As hot as it was fucking you on the washer, next time I want access to all of you.”

Macy’s eyes snapped to his, “Ten minutes?”

“You wanna put your mouth around it, might cut that time in half. Choice is yours.”

Her eyes flared and pink blush took over. Now that they were in the throes of ecstasy, Alec could see some of the hesitation creeping back in.

“Babe, you gotta know you are seriously sexy. Everything. Your body, the way you feel, the sounds you make, your taste, smell, all of it. There’s not a damn thing for you to blush about. You are free to be who you are with me. You can let go, get wild, get dirty, be sweet. You want slow and gentle, I’ll give you that. You want me to fuck you rough and dirty, then that’s what you’ll get. Anything you want. But it will seriously not make me happy if you shut down and try to hide from me. I need openness and honesty from you, can you give me that?”

Macy tucked her head and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Alec held his breath waiting for her to either accept what he asked for or push him away.

He did this knowing there had never been a time when he’d felt so exposed—and never had there been a time when he’d cared so much about a simple answer of yes or no.

27

Welp, there I was, naked.

Freaking naked, sitting in Alec’s laundry room, on his washer, with him shirtless, jeans still on, standing between my bare thighs, every part of me exposed—after we’d had sex.

Naked. Exposed. Bare. And weirdly, I was comfortable. Not so much the part about all of my girly bits on display—because I was me, therefore, a whole lot insecure about my body—but I had no qualms about the sex. That had been fantastic—there were no words for what I felt.

Electrified.

I’d been plugged in and was alive for the first time in my life. Every nerve ending awoke—finally.

“Can you do that?” Alec prompted.

Could I be open and honest during sex? Ask for what I wanted? If Alec had asked me that question six months ago, I would’ve said no way. A month ago I might’ve said maybe. But now the woman I was becoming, the one who was taking charge instead of being walked on? This woman could say yes.

“If me being honest and asking for what I want gets me more of that, then yes, I can be open.”

I shifted, thinking it was time to at least close my legs, when Alec’s hands went to my thighs keeping them spread. His jeans scraped the sensitive bared flesh, sending a rush of heat between my legs. He pulled me to the edge, wrapped my legs around his hips, then he found my hands, yanked them up and placed them on his chest. All of that felt nice, his hands on me, the way he moved me where he wanted. Doing all of that without breaking eye contact was hot.

“Part of being open is not hiding. Not what you want. Not what you like. Not your thoughts. And most certainly not your body.”

I liked that he wanted that from me. I wanted to believe he meant it. I wanted to be free to be me—the old me, the person I was before life had beat me down. But it was also outlandish that he thought that all he had to do was ask and years of self-doubt would melt away. My insecurities were there for a reason, they’d been ingrained and injected deep.

Alec could tell me I was beautiful until the end of time and I still wouldn’t believe him. He could tell me I was sexy, but I knew better. There was a reason my ex-husband cheated. Doug had not hidden his disgust when I was pregnant, or how gross he thought the weight gain was, or how those “fucking kids” had ruined my body.

So Alec could say he wanted me to tell him what I wanted, but the truth was, I wouldn’t. I’d learned that the hard way, too. I knew it was better for me just to take what I could get and be happy with it.

Just thinking about my past was like a cold, wet, heavy blanket, reminding me I was disgustingly naked in front of perfect Alec. And now that I’d seen him with his shirt off, the perfect that Alec had been grew exponentially and I had firsthand knowledge he was fantastic at sex—which I was not. So that took all his perfection and tied a ribbon around all that was him with a fancy a bow on top reminding me—I sucked at sex, I did not have a body worthy of him, and he would get bored of my less than stellar bedroom skills.

I needed to get dressed.

Pronto.