by Misty Evans
Van knew she shouldn’t ask, but she really wanted to know. “I guess I’ve always gotten the impression that you’re not really being yourself. Like you are all things for all people. It’s hard to see the real you in all of that.”
He nodded. “Fair enough, but do you like the real me?”
She couldn’t hide her laugh. “When you’re being you, yes. Sometimes I feel like you’re showing the cardboard cutout.”
“I’m surrounded by a million people all the time and not one of them knows who I really am, what gets me excited, or what makes me happy.”
“Why don’t you show them? The real you isn’t so bad. Hell, you got me to like you and I’m prickly.”
“You’re honest and can spot a bullshitter. You are who you are and you won’t compromise that to appease anyone. I admire that about you.”
For the next two hours through dinner and drinks, they chatted about music, movies, and travel. She talked as little about her job as she could. She’d been all about work for too long and it was time to develop other facets of her life.
As they leaned against the Mister A’s balcony, Alex smiled down at her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you sleep with me? Up until New Jersey, you’d given me every indication you hated me.”
Van sighed, unsure of how to answer. “I didn’t hate you, per se. The Boy Scout, the way you’re always so selfless, seemed fake to me. And then there were all the women who loved that selfless act throwing themselves at you. Do you remember that night in Cantina Bar when we were in wedding planning mode? You had no less than three women approach you and hand over their numbers. I sort of figured the Boy Scout thing was an act you used to score.”
“Okay,” He chewed his lip. “What changed your mind?”
Van rolled her shoulders. “You mostly irritated me because despite the impression I had of you, I found you, er, find you sexy. You have this way of drawing everybody in. You have this whole world where you’re surrounded by people and they all adore you. I, for the most part, am on an island and wish I could be more like you. In Jersey, I wanted you and I was tired of fighting it. I figured given your track record you could be a grownup and it wouldn’t be a big deal and we’d never have to talk about it again. I was trying my hand at being impulsive.”
“You left me,” he said with a hint of bite.
She smirked. “Still smarting from that?”
“It’s more than that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine, there was a little of that at first, but you rocked me. For the first time in my life, being with someone gave me the same kind of rush as I get being in a car. It was—” He swallowed, his gaze meeting hers. “You were incredible. Then you were gone. Then we got back here to San Diego and you tried to pretend it never happened. It stung thinking I was the only one who felt that connection.”
Quietly, she said, “You weren’t. I—”
Before she could finish, he dipped his head and kissed her. His lips were so soft, and before she knew it, she was pressed up against his hard body, her hands sliding into his hair.
When Alex drew back, his breathing was shallow and his pupils dilated. “I’m going to take you home before I lose control and give the folks here a show.”
Van was nervous as they drove through the night. Relax. You know him. You’ve already done this.
But like the official date, this was different. Yeah, she still wanted him, but she couldn’t hide from what they were doing tonight or pretend it never happened tomorrow.
At her door, she unlocked it, then turned to face him. “Thank you. Tonight was really fun.”
His gaze dipped to her lips. “Van.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you goodnight now.”
Amen. Hallelujah. “Okay.”
Strong hands reached for her hips, pulling her flush against his body. As his tongue slid over hers, it was less a kiss and more of a brand. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, letting herself go. Giving herself over to the kiss.
Impulsive.
He broke the kiss. “You taste incredible.”
He loosened his grip on her hips and she suddenly understood what was happening. He was about to go home.
That should be okay. She should want him to go home, but she didn’t. She wanted to get lost in him.
Taking his hand, she kept him from backing away. “The way I figure it, you can go to sleep with several feet between us or with inches between us. Which do you prefer?”
His voice was low. Husky. “I can show you.”
“Good idea,” she whispered and tugged him through the door.
* * *
Van’s hands were on his lower back, her tongue down his throat. They were in her foyer, him pushing her against the hall table under the mirror. Heaven, pure heaven.
But he wanted—needed—to slow things down.
Slow it down? What is wrong with me?
Van was ready and willing to give him exactly what he wanted…all of her, with no holes barred. Why was he looking a gift horse, or gift fuck in this case, in the mouth?
Because this was her MO—throwing herself at him, tearing up the sheets, and then feeling guilty, crappy, and pissed at herself afterwards.
Which always boomeranged on him.
He gripped her by the braids and broke their kiss. “Van?”
She lifted her gaze to his from half-lidded eyes. “Hmm?”
He’d shown her Nice Guy Alex. He’d shown her Not So Nice Guy Alex. He’d even shown her Let’s Be Friends Alex and I’m Going to Rock Your World Alex.
She’d told him to be himself, but he could tell by the way she was pressing her breasts into him and grabbing his ass, that she wanted Sex God Alex. He was happy to oblige, but Morning After Alex wasn’t going to put up with any walk of shame she might pull when this was over. “What do want from me?”
Her brows dipped in confusion. “I want you to fuck me.”
He turned her around, pointed her so she was looking in the mirror. “I can see that. You look like a woman who wants to be fucked.”
Her full lips were parted, her chest heaving. She glanced down, refusing to look at herself or him. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Sliding his fingers up the side of her dress, he stopped at one of the cutouts—it had been killing him all night not to touch that bare skin. Not to kiss her there. Now, he caressed her lightly, letting his fingers trail around the fabric. “I want more than a fuck.”
She shivered under his fingers, her bottom arching into his already out-there erection. “Like…what?”
“Look at me, Van.” He slipped his fingers under the material, tight as it was, and laid a hand on her abdomen. “Look at yourself.”
She glanced up and then away, her hand going between them and wrapping around his cock. “I’d rather look at this.”
Diversion. Typical.
It would be easy to give in, too. What he was about to tell her scared the shit out of him—he was not commitment material. But he wasn’t asking her to marry him. Tonight, here in this room, he wanted to honest. Honest Alex.
Could he do it?
He grabbed her wrist, forced her to turn loose of him. Pressing his cock into her leather clad ass, he pinned her to the table and bent his head. Moving her braids aside, he kept his other hand inside her dress, running his thumb across the underside of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra—he’d known it all night and could barely keep his eyes, and his hands, off the full mounds and puckered nipples under that lucky piece of leather.
As he kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder, he let his fingers wander down over her stomach and lower. Was she wearing underwear? That was the real question.
The lace of her panties ticked his fingers. God, how he wanted to rip off the dress and take her right there.
But he didn’t.
What are you doing? Give the woman what she wants and enjoy yourself. Y
ou don’t want to end up on the relationship merry-go-round like your parents.
Van raised her head, and when he glanced up, he saw she’d given in, watching him as he slowly unzipped the back of her dress, baring her spine and lovely shoulders to him. Removing his hand from inside her dress, he folded the leather material down one slow inch at a time, revealing the tops of her breasts in the mirror.
Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, the dark areoles nearly spilling over the fold, her nipples on the verge of bursting free.
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he nuzzled the skin under her ear. It was now or never.
“I want to fuck you until you can’t stand up. I want to fuck you so hard and so long, you forget every other man who’s ever looked at you. And then I want to make love to you, Vanessa. I want tonight to mean something. To both of us. I want it to be a memory you’ll keep, and be proud of, forever.”
She swallowed visibly and braced her hands on the table. Her voice was low, rough from her desire. “I want…I want that too.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. “No walk of shame tomorrow. I want your promise that you’ll be okay with what we’re doing here tonight. I want you promise that you’re doing this because you want a relationship with me. Not just a one night stand.”
He trailed feather-light kisses down the vertebrae of her neck and felt as much as heard her soft moan. “Promise me you won’t be embarrassed in the morning because you slept with me tonight, nor will you try to pretend it didn’t happen.”
Her voice was so quiet, so muted, she sounded like a little girl. “And if I can’t?”
He raised his head, looked at her over her shoulder. Although he was fully clothed, he felt as exposed as if he were naked in front of her. He was in no condition to walk out, but that’s what he’d do if she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, meet his demands. “If you can’t make that promise, then I’m leaving.”
She met his gaze straight on and pushed backwards against his cock, undulating her hips and nearly making him lose his composure. Sex and lust danced in her eyes, but they were clear, certain. So was her voice this time. “I never make a promise I can’t keep.”
His heart pinched and he hung his head. Blue balls, here I come.
Shifting away, he started to fix her dress. She stayed his hand. “I want a promise in return.”
She swiveled, facing him, the top of her dress falling to reveal her gorgeous breasts. She didn’t move to fix it, instead hiking herself up onto the table, grabbing him by the hips. As she spread her legs, she yanked him forward.
The dress was too tight for her to spread her legs wide or for him to push it up her thighs. She wrapped her long legs around him and held him in a vice, her big eyes looking up at him with determination. “No more women.”
Of their own accord, his fingers touched her thighs, tracing the pattern in her lace stockings. Her breasts were totally exposed, and she jutted them out as if taunting him. Making him putty in her hands.
He let his gaze drop to her nipples, sending her a clear message, before he lifted his eyes and met hers. “What women?”
“The women coming and going from you place all the time. If you want to make love to me and have it mean something, then don’t fuck other women.”
The few neurons still firing in his brain connected the dots. Van was jealous. His heart gave a spurt of pleasure. “I haven’t been with anyone since Jersey.”
She shook her head and made to push him away. “Liar.”
He held her tight and made an X over his heart. “I’m not lying. The women you’ve seen coming and going aren’t conquests, Van. They’re employees and volunteers and the occasional mother who feels the need to bring me cookies or tickets to a game to say thank you for helping her kid. I’m not saying some of them wouldn’t like a round or two in my bed, but I haven’t accepted any of their offers.”
Her eyes searched his. “Why not?”
The room was quiet, just the two of them and their heavy breathing breaking the silence. His cock was straining against his fly and he wanted nothing more than to dissolve this conversation in sex but he’d made an oath to himself to be honest. Now was the time. “Since Jersey, since that night, all I’ve wanted is you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t believe what? That I haven’t fucked another woman since that night? Or that none of them compare to you and I don’t want to fuck any of them?”
She bit her lower lip, and God, he wanted to kiss her. Put his mouth on her and somehow prove to her he wasn’t lying. That he’d told the truth and he wanted her—exclusively—exactly like she wanted him. “Exclusivity works fine for me, Van, so what do you say? Shall we scratch this itch, get a good, hard fuck out of the way, and then spend the rest of the night making love because we care about each other? Explore this thing between us and see where it leads?”
He thought he had her…that she would say yes and dissolve in his arms. He was about to take her right there on the foyer table, which would probably bust the damn thing as horny as he was at the moment. But then she did the unthinkable.
She shoved him away.
Worse, she walked off, disappearing into her bedroom and shutting the door.
Alex stood there wondering what had just happened. He’d been honest. He’d told her the truth. He’d thought she’d be flattered and want him even more.
Yet, here he stood, a raging hard-on and a closed door rewarding him for his honesty.
You should go, his conscious told him. She’s not ready for a real relationship with you. Probably never will be.
Which was probably for the better. No serious relationships. It had been his motto all his life.
Problem was, he seriously couldn’t walk, and his heart felt like Van had cut it open and all his life force was draining out.
He shuffled over the couch and sat for a second, his emotions and his head at war. Walking out might save face, but it wouldn’t resolve this feeling eating at him. Van had shut the door in his face, but his heart was willing to wait her out. If he had to sit there until morning in order to see her again and resolve this thing between them, then he damned well better get comfortable.
“I’m not leaving,” he yelled. “I promise to be exclusive to you and only you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Seconds passed. A minute.
The bedroom door flew open.
Miracle of miracles, Van stood there wearing nothing but her stockings and stilettos.
She stalked him across the room, coming to stand in front of him and planting her feet wide as she crossed her arms under her breasts. The light from the entryway danced across her beautiful skin. Her smooth, hairless sex glistened with moisture. As she lorded herself over him, staring him down, her eyes snapped with resolve.
An Amazon dominatrix.
He could do that.
Slouching down in the couch cushions, he smiled up at her, letting her know he liked it but he wasn’t cowed by her act. She was all tough and independent on the outside and a pure marshmallow on the inside. “Does this mean you accept my terms, Vanessa?”
“Shut up,” she said, crawling on top of him and starting to loosen his belt.
He let her unzip his pants and spring him free. When her hand wrapped around his erection, he arched into her hold, but stilled her hand and held her in place. “Say it.”
She lifted her gaze, her mouth parted and ready to go down on him. “I want you.”
Such a tease. “Say. It. Say you want more than a casual fuck. That you want a relationship with me.”
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. She squeezed him tight, the end of one finger rubbing over his plump end. “I want…a relationship…with you.”
Was she still teasing him? Her body language said yes, but her eyes…they said something else. A relationship scared her. He scared her. But she was willing to try.
Thank God since he was about to orgasm right there from her sheer naked pre
sence and her simple touch.
“You won’t be sorry,” he promised, releasing her hand. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip where she liked to bite it. “I’m going to give you everything you want and more.”
She kissed him. Hard. He felt it all the way to the soles of his feet. Then she backed off the couch, wrestling his pants and underwear off his hips with his help, and fell to her knees.
She took him in her soft, wet mouth. The heat hit him full force. Her tongue played over the end of his cock, her hands cupping his balls. She sucked and backed off, only to suck him deeper. When she drew him all the way into the back of her throat, he gasped. “Vaaan.”
Her hands squeezed his balls, her tongue pressing him to the top of her mouth. It was too much. He was going to…
She pulled back, releasing him. A grin split her face, her lips swollen, as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Does that feel good?”
Ah, yes. As always, Van had him by the short and curlies. She wanted to be in control. Of the sex. Of their budding relationship. Yet, she seemed to like it when he was in control.
“Come here,” he demanded.
“I’m not done yet.”
“I’m not coming without you. Not this time.” He shifted her, reached down, and withdrew a condom from the wallet in his pants. “Let’s seal our pact together.”
“With sex? I’m in.”
She took the foil packet from him and did the honors, teasing him once more as she placed it on the head of his penis and rolled it slowly, inch by inch, down to the base. She unbuttoned his shirt, spread it open, and ran her fingers over his pecs and stomach. At the same time, she crawled into his lap.
Grabbing a hunk of his hair, she tilted his face back so he was looking up at her. “Now what was that you were saying about fucking me until I can’t walk?”
Oh yeah. Her having a little control wasn’t so bad. Hell, it was fucking hot.
She grabbed the back of the couch for leverage, parting her legs wide and lowering herself onto him. Her breasts danced in front of his mouth.
Van moaned, hips moving faster. Alex latched on to one breast and sucked.
The rhythm built fast. Too fast. Clutching her hips, he freed her breast, tipped his head back and held her in place. “You feel so damn good. So hot.”