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When he opened his eyes again, the light, joking Alex was gone, replaced with a dark, almost frightening desire. The aggressiveness of his need might have scared her off, but her own was an equal match for it. She wanted to be taken just as badly as he wanted to take her.
“Get your clothes off,” he commanded.
She didn’t need to be told a second time. The last time they’d been together she’d had both hands on the steering wheel and had been the one issuing commands. Now that the control was with Alex, she got a thrill of expectation wondering what he might do with the power.
Alice stripped off her pants, wishing she wasn’t wearing the most hideous underwear she owned. If Alex noticed the panties, though, it was only because they served as a barrier between him and his goal.
“On the bed.” His voice was a growl that sent a shock of expectation directly to her core. She was wet before he even had his shirt off.
Obeying his request, she lay back on the bed, stupidly grateful she’d taken a moment to make it earlier. Alex removed his wet T-shirt, the material peeling away from his skin like it was an extension of him. She licked her lips as his bare chest was exposed, the hair covering his pecs leading in a delicious line to the waistband of his pants.
She forgot he was supposed to be the one doing the bossing around and crooked her fingers towards him. “Get over here. But no wet pants on the bedspread.” With one eyebrow arched, she gave him a wicked grin.
“I could say something about getting it wet anyway…” His voice drifted off, but his own smirk let her know exactly what he was getting at.
“You dirty pervert.”
“You’re goddamn right.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It was as if Alex had never had her before.
Their romp in her car was something out of a dream. One of those misty watercolor memories drunk old women at karaoke bars liked to sing about.
The half-naked woman in front of him, though, she was a thing of vibrant, surrealist color. She was like a painting he couldn’t wait to get his brush all over.
Bedding her hadn’t been his goal when he’d driven over. He hadn’t actually had a goal, except to see her. She’d sounded so tired, so…un-Alice on the phone, he hadn’t hesitated or asked permission, he just knew he had to make his way to her.
It wasn’t until he was standing within inches of her that his mind shifted from comforting her to something altogether different. He couldn’t help himself when he was with her. She had a way of driving him absolutely mad. All his chivalrous notions flew out the window the moment he’d touched her.
Now she was sprawled across her bed, giving him the kind of inviting stare he was accustomed to imagining but never actually seeing. He kicked off his shoes and socks and made short order of his pants, leaving all his clothes in a wet heap on her floor. Dressed in only his underwear, he was now the least clothed between the two of them, and that would need to be remedied.
The bed bowed beneath his weight, and he crawled across the soft down duvet towards her.
“You’re still wearing your shirt.” He straddled her, one leg on either side of her hips.
“Then take it off.”
He did as he was told, fumbling with the tiny, delicate buttons of her blouse. He wanted to rip the damned thing off and send those itty-bitty buttons flying across the room, but he held back, doing the gentlemanly thing.
It might have been easier to buy her a new shirt.
When the two sides were separated, he tugged the garment off her and added it to the pile he’d established on the carpet. “Better.” He let his hands do what they’d been craving the whole time, wide palms covering her breasts, the rigid nipples rubbing against his rough skin, teasing him through the material of her bra.
The weight of her breasts in his hands felt glorious. He was like a teenager again, wanting to spend hours touching them, exploring their mysterious facets. But he didn’t have full hours to devote to her tits, and there was so much more of her he wanted to attend to. Who knew how long his visitation rights would last this time before she decided this wasn’t a good idea?
Alex wanted to make the most of every second.
The bedroom light had been off when they came in, so only the dying light of evening lit the small space. Now that the clouds were out in force—the rain beat noisily on the roof—he could barely make out her form.
“I’ve wanted you lik
e this…” He stopped talking mid-sentence, worried he might kill the mood by confessing how often he’d thought of her naked.
“Tell me.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you.”
