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Alex chuckled and planted a quick kiss on her lips, but before she could respond he was walking away. ‘What can I get you?’ he asked as he pulled off his bowtie and tossed it on to one of the large couches.
‘Surprise me.’ She took a seat at the kitchen counter, watching him prepare their drinks. ‘You’re good. Ever been a barman?’
He laughed openly. ‘No such luck. I’ve just learned how to make things I like.’
‘Does that mean you can cook?’ Emma watched him pour an amber drink into two crystal glasses filled with ice.
‘Yes, but nothing terribly fancy.’ He handed a glass to her before taking a sip from his own. ‘Now, I think I promised you a view.’
He laced his fingers in hers, pulling her into an indoor elevator that ascended to a private rooftop terrace. If Emma had been captivated by the view from the inside, it was nothing compared to being up here. The Melbourne skyline sat twinkling behind her while the sea stretched before her.
‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘If I had this, I would never be inside. How are you not out here all the time?’ Her eyes didn’t leave the darkened horizon.
‘Because I don’t work where I play,’ he replied easily.
She eyed the pool, casting a blue glow over the space, and somehow understood. ‘You’re all about rules, aren’t you?’ she asked.
‘They keep life simple.’
Emma couldn’t disagree with that. She took a sip of her drink. It was sweet and minty, and utterly delicious. ‘I would never have had you pegged as a Stinger man.’
‘You want to know a secret?’ he asked.
She nodded her head.
‘I prefer whisky, but it’s always useful to try to impress a beautiful woman.’
Emma laughed. She didn’t think he would need any tricks. He was perfectly capable of being impressive all by himself. ‘I don’t think you need to try very hard. That accent is sexy enough.’
‘Is it?’ A smile played on his lips.
‘You know it is.’
It was turning out to be a much better night than she could have imagined. She felt so much lighter away from the masquerade. And even though she stood there drinking a delicious drink, still admiring an amazing view, nothing could take away the awareness of her body to Alex’s proximity.
As if he had a direct line to her thoughts, he suggested they retreat indoors. He invited her to get comfortable on the large plush couch that was devoid of his tie. The crystal glass in his hand was tipped back, and he was draining the last of his drink and placing it on the glass coffee table with a clink. Then he undid the button at his throat and joined Emma on the couch.
He pulled the glass from her hand, setting it down on the table in front of them. Anticipation thrummed through her body. He slid his hand into her hair and pressed his lips against hers, then pulled away, then did it again. Light, teasing kisses were placed on her lips and jaw and neck, and when she tried to pull him back to her lips he was already there. Soft lips roving over hers. His tongue was teasing, seeking permission, and her lips parted for him. Emma could still taste the minty sweetness of his drink on him.
His kisses were a heady thing, and she could feel heat pooling in her centre. He was being so gentle, but then he slanted his head and it built the kiss to a whole new connection. Deep, passionate, consuming. And she was falling. Her fingers were grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Nails scraping against his scalp.
Alex moaned against her lips. He pressed his body against hers, pushing her down into the couch cushions. His hand slid along her body and hitched her leg up. He was pressing his hardness against her sex, making her moan out his name. His kisses became hungrier. Fervent. Her breath was already coming in short pants, and they were still fully clothed.
‘Tell me what you want, Emma,’ Alex said as he trailed hard, lustful kisses down her neck.
‘You. All of you. More...’ she panted.
His hand travelled over her shoulder, down her side, where he found the zip of her dress and slowly, maddeningly, pulled it down. Swathes of blue satin parted. A shiver trembled through her as his warm hand ran over her bare skin. He kissed her shoulder as he pulled the strap of her dress down and she wanted to be free of the constricting thing. All she wanted was to feel Alex’s lips on every inch of her.
Sensing her need, he reared up, sliding the dress off her, uncovering her body and dropping it to the floor in a pool of fabric.
Emma watched him unbuckle her silver stilettos. First one, then the other. Both shoes hit the hardwood floor with a clatter. And then he was kissing her again. Moving his mouth up her leg, his nose brushing over her covered sex, lips caressing her belly, her breasts, before finally his hand slipped under her and unclasped her bra. A giggle escaped her as he tossed it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed.
His mouth closed over her nipple, and she drew in a harsh breath. It was as if a taut line tugged at her centre, and she knew he was only going to build her tension up more. Drive her mad until his name was all she could say all night.
Long, skilled fingers played with the band of her panties before dipping under, running through her slickness, and he groaned. Before she even registered what was happening, her panties were off and on the floor and Alex’s mouth was on hers, demanding and desperate. No one had ever kissed Emma as he did. As if she was all that existed. As if she had been made to drive him wild. But drive him wild she did.
Alex reached out and picked an ice cube from the glass that sat on the coffee table. ‘Open,’ he instructed gruffly, bringing it to her lips.
