Page 118

“She met Frank when I was around eight or nine. They were married just after my tenth birthday. After that, my mom didn’t have to worry about money anymore. Frank takes care of everything,” I finished with a shrug of indifference. I didn’t elaborate further, as my feelings on the subject were mixed. Frank was a good man, but I had often wondered if my mom married him out of necessity or if she married for love.

“Hmm,” he mused with a frown. “That’s interesting. From everything you’ve said in the past, you seemed to be a lot like her. But now, I think you’re very much the opposite. You’re too independent.”

“Well, I try,” I said with a sardonic grin. I squirmed in my chair, and not because of my sore bum. I simply did not want to get into a discussion about the differences and similarities I had to my mother. “Do you mind if I grab a shower?”

“Help yourself,” he said, accepting my dismissal in stride. “Towels are in the linen closet.”

“Thanks.”

After clearing my plate, I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom, eager to get away from our very unusual breakfast exchange.

This conversation is way too deep for this time of the morning.

Between the recollection of my dream and the chatter about my mom, I was ready to climb back into bed and hope for a do-over.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Krystina

Ihad been in Alexander’s bathroom before, but I never noticed the details in the grand shower stall. Floor to ceiling tiles lined the walls, with an intricate mosaic overlay in the middle of one wall. There was a built-in bench as well, with various jets cleverly placed around the area. I reached for the knob to turn on the water and was pleasantly surprised to see the waterfall stream raining down from the ceiling.

Once the water was to temp, I stepped back to strip out of Alexander’s T-shirt, looking forward to enjoying his luxurious shower. Just when I was about to get in, Alexander slithered up behind me. I jumped, having been caught off guard.

“Oh, you scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Mmm…” he murmured into my ear. “Watching you walk away in my T-shirt…I couldn’t resist. You have amazing legs. Do you know that?”

He ran his hands over my shoulders, down my arms, then back up to cup my breasts. Grabbing a handful of curls, he pulled my hair aside and started nibbling his way down my neck.

“I’m never going to shower if you keep that up,” I chided halfheartedly. A shiver raced down my spine, and a small moan escaped.

“I could just turn around and go back to the kitchen. Is that what you want?” He slid his hands down my belly but deliberately stopped short at my pelvic bone.

“No,” I breathed, frustrated he didn’t continue traveling south.

“Well then, Miss Cole. Do you mind if I join you?” he propositioned.

“Why, not at all. Sir,” I said playfully in return. I was about to make a jest about calling him sir but was abruptly silenced when he spun me around. In one swift motion, he picked me up under the arms and had my legs scissoring around his waist. Before I knew it, I was in the shower, back pressed up against the wall, his mouth pressed against mine.

“Mother of God, you’re perfect. The things I want to do to you…” he trailed off, moving his lips down my neck. I pressed my back against the wall, pushing my hips up hard against him, only to discover the rough feel of denim.

“Alex! You still have your jeans on!” I exclaimed in shock.

“I guess I do,” he said. He spun us so he could lower me down onto the shower bench.

After unbuttoning his fly, he pushed the wet material down his legs. I giggled when I saw him struggle. His movements were typically so graceful. To see him wrestle with the soaking wet jeans was quite comical.

“You should have thought things through a little better before you assaulted me,” I laughed. He ignored me, so concentrated on the task of removing his pants from around his ankles. Once they were completely off, he tossed them out of the shower into a wet heap on the bathroom floor. His eyes were dark when he turned back to me.

“I’m going to punish you for mocking me,” he promised. “I’m going to make you crazy with need, so much so you won’t even be able to think straight. But you’re not allowed to come. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered. Turned on by the idea of being kept on the edge, a tightening in my belly formed.

“Spread your legs. I want to see your sex wide open for me. And no matter what I do, you’re not allowed to move unless I tell you to.”

My breathing quickened in anticipation as I did what he asked.

Alexander pulled down a detachable shower head from the wall and performed a slow dance down my body. Starting with my head, he moved the water flow down each arm and over each breast until the pulse of the spray stopped over my mound. He rested the shower head on the bench, keeping the water flow shooting against my now throbbing clit. However, the jet was only a tease, lacking enough pressure to get me off.