by Melody Grace
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I usually know where I stand with a woman,” he says, with a wry grin. “Especially one who kissed me like you did.”
I blush.
“But I don’t know if you came with me because you want to spend time with me, or because you just didn’t want to be there,” Dex continues, still watching me.
I feel a flicker of guilt. “Can’t it be both?” I ask, wanting to be honest with him. I don’t even know him, but I feel like I can tell him the truth. “After all, you kissed me for a reason too. You wanted to forget something just as much as me.”
Dex’s eyes flash with something that looks like respect.
He lets out a low chuckle. “We’re a fine pair,” he remarks, moving to stand beside me. His arm brushes mine, and I shiver again. “Are you cold?” he asks immediately. “Here.”
He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I murmur. It’s warm from his body, and I can smell him; his clean, manly scent mingling with the leather in an intoxicating fragrance. It surrounds me, and suddenly I realize in a flash.
He’s real.
I’ve never faced it so starkly, but wrapped up in Dex’s presence, I have no choice. My fantasies are just that: figments, dreams, empty wisps of nothing floating on the breeze. But Dex is a real man -- in every possible sense of the word. And I know from the way he pressed me up against that wall and kissed me, devoured me, that he wants me, the way a man wants a woman.
The way I ache for him.
That knowledge surprises me with confidence, a feminine awareness of my power right now. I’ve been so used to watching, waiting, that it’s almost a thrill to know that I have a say in what’s about to happen. We stand a moment, watching the lights, and slowly, my self-consciousness melts away. I’m still on edge, but it’s a different kind of tension, a knot of anticipation in my stomach, the heady skitter of my heartbeat in my chest.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this way, so close to the edge.
Dex’s fingers slowly cover my own. I glance down, memorizing the sight of his hand curled around mine; his callused, strong fingers against my slim pink hand.
I force myself to look up at him. He’s gazing at me with a hungry expression in his eyes, his desire clear to see. My heart catches in my throat.
I can’t remember the last time a man looked at me this way.
“How about we make a deal?” he asks, his voice gravelly, sending a pool of heat right to my core. “Whatever it is that brought us here, we forget about it. Just for tonight, all that bullshit doesn’t exist. It’s just you and me.”
I take a hopeful breath. “Is it really that easy?”
Dex doesn’t look away. “It could be, if you want.”
What do I want?
I thought I knew for sure. For years, only one name has filled my heart, one man occupying all my happily-ever-after fantasies. But now, that fairytale ending belongs to somebody else, and I’m still exactly where I started.
Staring at a man who could show me everything I’ve been missing out on. Waiting for me to take that leap.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up and kiss him.
Yes.
6.
DEX
Her kiss is all the agreement I need.
With a growl, I pull her body tight against mine, losing myself in her intoxicating sweetness. Alicia lets out a sigh and melts against me, and damn, if the world doesn’t all falls to ashes around us.
If the kiss in the alleyway back there was fireworks, this is a goddamn inferno.
I probe deeper, hungry for more, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth and drinking in the taste of her, sweet and sharp and every good thing in the universe.
This, fuck, this right here. This is what drives men to madness; fells empires and starts epic wars. The swell of her lush curves against me, the moan she sounds as I lick into her mouth; the way she presses closer, eager, sending lust ricocheting through my body and blood rushing to my cock.
This heat, this passion, it’s better than anything I’ve ever known, and dammit if I can’t get enough.
I lean her back against the railing, feeling every inch of her body sway against me. I need to touch all of her, and I don’t even know where to start: tangling my fingers in her silken hair, running my hands down over the curve of her back and the delicious roundness of her ass. I can’t help grinding against her, already hard and hungry, the friction driving me crazy as I gorge on those pink, honeyed lips.
“Dex,” she gasps, as I tear myself from her mouth and kiss a blazing path down her throat. I flick my tongue into the hollow of her collarbone, and her words melt into a breathy moan.
The sound shatters through me. I want to hear that moan for the rest of my life, gasping, begging, crying out with ecstasy as I plunge deep inside her.
She sways against me, her legs giving way, and I realize, the railings won’t hold her for what I’ve got in store. I back away, rasping a heavy breath.
“Come with me,” I order, grabbing her hand and yanking her back towards the elevator. I push her inside, up against the wall, claiming her mouth again as the doors slide shut. Alicia surrenders willingly, stealing tiny kisses, entwining her fingers through my hair. God, she’s responsive, so willing under my hands it drives me crazy. I kiss her harder, devouring her, sliding my hands over the silk of her dress and around her peach of an ass to cup and knead at the delicious flesh.
Too soon, we arrive on my floor and I drag myself off her again, pulling her down the hallway. “Slow down,” she giggles, stumbling after me. Her face is bright with exhilaration, and I feel a fierce stab of pride that I’m the one who’s making her laugh like this -- that I chased the shadows from her delicate smile.
She should never look so sad again.
“Where are we going?” Alicia gasps, and I can’t make it another step without claiming her mouth again.
God, she’s too damn sweet. Those luscious lips, that darting pink tongue...
“I’m going to taste every inch of you,” I promise, running one hand down her body. She shivers under my touch, her breath coming fast. “I’m going to feel you break under my tongue.”
Alicia clings to me, her eyes hazy with desire.
Damn, I need her naked. Now.
I get us to the end of the hallway and fumble for the keys, unlocking the door. I pick her up and stride inside the apartment, slamming the door behind us and flipping on the lights.
Alicia glances around at the leather couches and sleek chrome and glass furniture. “This is your place?” she asks, pausing.
I nibble at her earlobe, lust still raging in my blood. “My brother, Ash’s,” I reply, not looking. I’m more interested in the curve of her neck, right here, but Alicia breaks away from me and takes a few steps inside.
“I thought so,” she murmurs, looking around more carefully. “This isn’t you at all.”
I stop, curious now. “What do you mean?”
Alicia gives a bashful smile. “I mean it’s too clean.”
“Thanks!” I laugh.
“No, I mean, it’s stark. Beautiful, but, too ordered. You’re more chaotic than this.”
I look around, seeing it through her eyes. The flat-screen TV, the minimal grey rugs and monochrome framed art. She’s right. My place back in LA was a converted warehouse downtown, all bare brick walls and massive graffiti murals. Even the beach house I just finished is a study in contrasts: light and shadow, color and life. Ash’s place looks like it’s been ripped from some fancy design magazine, and hell, knowing him, it probably was.
But she noticed. Alicia’s spent barely an hour with me, and already, she saw through this place.
I look at her with a new respect. “Ash is the control freak in the family,” I explain, walking over to his spotless kitchen area. I still need her, more than anything, but we’ve got time now.
We’ve got all night.
“Want a drink?” I ask.
“Yes please.” Alicia follows me. “Is he older or younger?”
“Ash is the oldest. Then me, Blake, and our baby sister, Tegan. Well, she’s just about to turn twenty-one, but she’ll always be the baby to us.” I feel a pang, dark memories crowding in, but I push them back. I find a bottle of whiskey and pour myself a glass. “There’s soda in the fridge, I think?” I offer, but Alicia gives me an arched look.
“Whiskey is fine.”
I slide the glass over, and watch as she takes a delicate sip.
“Single malt?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Laphroaig,” I agree, impressed. “Ash flies it in from Scotland. He’s a picky bastard like that.”
“You must be close, your family,” she says, still looking around. Ash has a photo of us all framed on the wall, and she pauses over it.
“We are.” I nod, then quickly change the subject. “What about you? Siblings?”
She shakes her head. “Just me.” Alicia stops, and then gives a wry laugh. “That’s my catchphrase these days. ‘Just me’!”
“Nothing wrong with that.” I pour myself a glass of whiskey, but I don’t take a sip. I want to taste her, instead.
Alicia wanders back towards the living area. I watch the sway of her hips, and feel a fresh wave of lust. I know girls who’ve trained in front of mirrors to get a walk like that; everything’s a performance, everything’s planned to provoke maximum effect. But this girl, she doesn’t even notice. It’s all unconscious to her, natural as breathing.
I follow her over, dimming the lights as I go. There’s a neon glow from the world outside casting pools across the floor as Alicia takes a seat on the edge of the couch. She’s holding her drink tight with both hands, clearly nervous.
I lean over and tilt her head up to me, softly tasting her lips in a slow, long kiss.
It washes over me: the rightness, the heat. I wanted to take her hard and fast, but there’s something so sweet in her tentative response that it makes me want to take my time. Explore her inch by sensuous inch, until she’s begging for more.
Then Alicia’s lips part. Her tongue slides into my mouth, hesitant and slow, exploring.
Screw waiting.
I growl, scooping her body in my arms and sliding back, so I’m braced above her on the couch, my body pressed down the length of her luscious curves. Alicia lets out a breathy gasp, arching up against me as I kiss her deeper, demanding, gorging myself on her sweetness.
Hell, this girl is perfect. Her mouth willingly submits to my mastery; her body trembles to my touch. I grip her waist, grinding down against her, feeling every shiver and gasp as the kiss pulls us under, down into the dark, velvet ocean, where there’s nothing but taste and sensation and the hot, slow tangle of our tongues.
I lift my head and lick slowly across the pale swell of her chest.
Alicia gasps. She clutches my back, holding on for dear life as I tease and toy along the neckline of her dress. Every new shiver of her body sends a surge of heat, coiling tighter, lust thick in my veins. Fuck, I want her. I’m hard, straining against her, and every new arch and buck of her body sends friction rocking straight to my aching thickness, just begging to be buried between those sweet thighs.
I fight to stay in control, kissing lower, reaching to cup and stroke across her perfect breasts. Alicia lets out a moan, so I stroke again, finding her nipples hard as buds beneath her dress. Damn, I need to taste her, now, so I yank down the neckline and take one in my hand, licking and sucking on the tender flesh until she’s whimpering, head thrown back, red hair fanned across the couch cushion.
She’s so fucking beautiful, I could watch her for days.
“Dex?” Alicia opens her eyes. I’ve stopped, poised above her, watching the ecstasy on her face.
“Sorry, darlin’,” I murmur, reaching to stroke her nipple again. She inhales in a rush. “I shouldn’t be neglecting you.”
Alicia looks down at my hand and blushes. I can see her brain waking up again, realizing where she is, what she’s doing, so I lower my head and claim those ripe lips again, kissing hard and deep until she’s moaning in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist, pressing against my crotch, and damn, the fire races through my bloodstream. Hungry. Demanding.
I groan, sliding my hand up her soft thigh. Oh God, she feels so good. I reach higher, already panting, but this time, her body tenses. “Dex,” she whispers, but instead of desire, I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
“What’s wrong?” I lift my head to look at her, still tracing slow circles on the outside of her bare leg. Her skirt is pushes up around her hips, and Lord, I’m so close, so close to the heaven she’s hiding between those creamy thighs.
Alicia bites her lip. “I don’t know...” she murmurs. “I just... this is all happening so fast.”
I stifle a cry of frustration. Fast? I’ve had women naked, on their knees before we even left the concert venue. But Alicia is looking at me with worry clouding those hazel eyes, and I feel an unfamiliar emotion crash over me.
Guilt.
“I’m sorry.” I remove my hand and carefully smooth her skirt down again. I roll to the side, propping myself on one elbow so her body is lying next to me, not touching. “We can take this as slow as you need. We’ve got all night.”
Relief floods her features. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, blushing. “I know it’s weird, I just... I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Gone home with a devastatingly sexy stranger,” I tease, trying to make her smile again.
Alicia stifles a grin. “Yes. The stranger part,” she clarifies.
“Sure, that’s what you mean.” I wink.
“I feel like such an idiot.” She turns to bury her face in the couch cushion. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Hey.” I touch her gently. “It’s OK.”
“It’s just, I’m screwing this up.” She lifts her head, looking at me with confusion in her eyes. “I wanted to come with you, I kissed you back, and now... Now I don’t know what’s stopping me.”
I don’t know either, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to beat herself up like this.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She blinks. “What?”
“Hungry,” I say again. I sit up, lifting her legs so they’re resting across my lap. “I was so damn distracted, I didn’t eat a thing at the party.”
“Me neither,” Alicia says. As she tugs her dress back into place, her stomach lets out a rumble. “Oh my god!” She blushes.
I laugh. “Food it is.”
7.
ALICIA
Dex holds out his hands to me, and I take them, getting to my feet. The feel of his touch, warm against me, makes me want to pull him right back down on the couch and pick up where we left off, but he’s already strolling towards the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks.
You, I want to reply. If we could rewind five minutes to before I freaked the hell out and ruined everything.
“I don’t know...” I say instead. I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens up the fridge. “You cook?” I ask, surprised, as he rifles through the groceries inside.
“I try.” Dex gives a wry grin. “I spent years on tour eating nothing but junk food and takeout, so after I quit, one of the first things I did was learn my way around a kitchen.” He pulls out tomatoes. “Pasta OK with you?” he asks. “I can do a spicy arrabbiata.”
“Sounds delicious.”
I hop up on a stool by the kitchen island counter. Dex fetches some white wine for the sauce, and pours me a glass. I sip it, glad of the distraction, and watch as he puts some water on to boil and assembles the ingredients.
He’s acting so casual, as if nothing’s wrong at all. I wish I could be so cool. My heart is still pounding from our kisses on the couch, and I can’t believe I put the brakes on like that.
Everything was perfect. More than perfect: hot, and raw, and sex
y as hell, until...
Until you remembered you’re practically a virgin.
I stifle a sigh. It’s so stupid. Here I am, a twenty-three year-old woman with her own business, credit cards, and lease on a beautiful apartment in the old part of town, and my sole experience with a guy is some drunken fumble my freshman year of college. Calling it my first time would be generous; if I’m not a virgin, it’s a technicality, for sure.
You waited too long, the voice in my head taunts me. He’s going to think you’re a freak when he realizes you have no idea what you’re doing.
“Chop this.” Dex’s voice breaks through my spiral of insecurity. He pushes a board and some vegetables over to me, so I get down and do as instructed. But still, I can’t take my eyes off him. The way he moves around the galley kitchen, there’s a grace to it: an undisguised power and certainty in every gesture as he stirs, chops, tastes.
Everything about him is physical. Raw.
You want that body back against you, pinning you down, covering every inch of you again until you’re gasping.
Dex looks over and catches me watching him. I look away, feeling my cheeks burn.
“What?” he asks.
I shrug, embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d be like this.”
“And how’s that?” Dex tilts his head, watching me, his voice a low, whiskey-sweet drawl.
“So... chivalrous,” I find the right word. “The way people talk, I was expecting some big, bad rock-star, but you’re nothing like that.”
“I’m plenty big.” Dex winks.
I flush, my cheeks burning. From what I felt of him, grinding against me, I know that it’s true.
“You know what I mean. You’ve been so sweet to me.”
“Have I now?” In an instant, Dex’s expression changes. His eyes darken, hot and hungry. “Don’t mistake me for a gentleman, darlin’. Just because I stopped when you asked me to, it doesn’t mean I won’t fuck your sweet brains out.”