Alistair squeezed her hand. “Let’s see if it eases up tonight and tomorrow.”
When the waitress appeared to take their drink orders, Alistair suggested a red wine. Jess shot him a stern look.
“You shouldn’t,” she warned in a low tone.
“It’s not for me,” he reassured her, smiling up at the waitress. “Bring us a merlot, please. The best one you have. Two glasses, though I won’t use mine because I’ve recently suffered a head injury.”
The waitress lifted a brow and excused herself while Jess stifled giggles.
“We’re going to have a fabulous dinner,” Alistair said, sipping at his water glass. “Even if I merely pretend to drink alcohol.”
“I just don’t want to do anything that could prevent your recuperation,” Jess said, gnawing at the inside of her lip while she adjusted the placement of her silverware. Less than a week relearning this woman and already he knew that she liked things just so—precise, organized, and linear. And from what he knew about himself, she was something of a complement to him. Perhaps even his opposite.
“You are a fantastic recuperation companion,” Alistair said. “The best I’ve ever had.”
“The only you’ve ever had,” she clarified. They shared a private smile, one that made his chest tighten. Her plump lips glistened vibrant red and perfectly lined, and though he was desperate to smear her lipstick with kisses, he rather liked watching her, just taking her in.
After they’d been quiet for a few moments, Jess shifted in her seat. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Because I’m with a gorgeous woman, and I’m allowed to stare for once. Shh.”
She laughed, her cheeks turning rosy. The waitress returned with their wine, and as she went through the ritual of uncorking and presenting the bottle, Alistair realized now might be the perfect time for the next phase of his plan.
If Jess was upset about her parents not making it for the grand reveal of their relationship, then he wanted to do something that at least nodded in that direction. Once Jess sipped and approved the wine selection and the waitress took their orders, Alistair cleared his throat. He adjusted his sport coat and then stood, grinning down at her.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, my dear.” He came to her side, lowering himself deliberately onto one knee. Her eyes rounded as he took her hands between his.
“Jess.”
“Oh my God, Alistair,” she said, her neck flushing.
“I know your parents aren’t here, but I thought we could still have the big reveal like we planned,” he said softly, distantly aware of attention turning their way from the other restaurant patrons.
Jess bit her lip, a cocktail of emotions crossing her face.
“I’ve known you for years, and I’m getting to know you all over again. And I must say, the second time around might be even better than the first. And I consider myself lucky for it, because I’ve gotten to hold you and know you and realize that there truly is no other woman for me.” He paused, emotion tightening his throat. “Even when I have my senses knocked out of me, I still choose you.”
Tears filled her eyes, her grip on his hand tightening. “Alistair—”
“Jess Green. You’re my colleague, my partner, my friend, my lover…and more recently my nurse.” His grin widened. “Will you also do me the honor of being my wife?”
A sob escaped her, and she pinched her eyes shut. “Yes.”
He pulled her into a hug, and applause swelled around them. She clung to his neck, crying into his shoulder. When he stood, he placed kisses over her cheeks and forehead. When he returned to his seat, he noticed all the ruddy, happy faces in the restaurant, raising glasses or sending thumbs-up signs.
Jess sniffed hard, taking out a little pocket mirror to check her face. “God, that was sweet.”
“Don’t worry, the wedding speech will be better.” He sipped at his water. “I have all this time to plan exactly how to tug at your heart strings.”
8
Jess floated through dinner, each bite of her filet mignon feeling like a morsel from heaven. Every laugh and smile from Alistair squeezed her heart, reminding her of the confusing happiness inside.
By the time they made their way back to the hotel room, Jess had drunk herself to a pleasant state of near oblivion, where the messy questions of does he actually love me and do I actually love him could fade into the background. All she wanted was Alistair, to prolong this feeling of being wanted, loved.
She’d never allowed herself this before. And now that she was here, she might not ever be able to give it up.
Alistair pressed her to the wall outside their hotel room, running his mouth along her jawline. The hard length of his cock pressed against her hip, and she whimpered into his shoulder. This was what she’d been waiting for all day—and now, with just enough wine to allow her to acknowledge it, she could give in.
“I need you,” he growled into her ear, tracing the lines of her body with his hands. “Let’s make love, my sweet Marigold.”
She grabbed the lapels of his sport coat, kissing him furiously. “Oh my God, yes,” she murmured through the kiss. “We won’t tell the doctor.”
He cupped her face in his hands, pressing his tongue to meet hers, the fragrant remainder of their dinner flavors—wine, garlic, greens—hanging in the mix. She pouted, running her fingers along his belt, when he broke away to focus on opening the door.
The door clicked, and he pushed it open with his foot, leading her with kisses into the depths of their suite. When the door shut behind them, he lifted the hem of her skirt, bringing it over her head in one swift movement.
Jess didn’t know if it was the air meeting her bare skin or the sizzling attention of Alistair that made her skin prickle. She clutched at his arm as he drank her in, his jaw clenching.
“Bed. Immediately.” He swept her into his arms, prompting a shrieking giggle.
“Alistair, be careful!” She kicked her feet through the air as he carried her to the bedroom. “We’re doing enough bad things as it is. Don’t add lifting heavy objects to the list.”
“You don’t qualify as a heavy object, my dear,” he said, tossing her gently onto the bed. He slid off his sport coat and then undid each shirt button, his gaze heavy and hot on her. “You qualify as a sexy object.”
She burst into laughter. “Fine. Get on top of me.”
His belt buckle clanked as he undid it, the belt making a swoosh noise as he removed it from the loops of his pants. As he made quick work of his pants, Jess shifted on the bed, feeling sexy and exposed, and not nearly as nervous for her first time as she might have expected.
She just hoped Alistair didn’t know it was her first time.
She swallowed a distant knot of apprehension once his pants hit the ground. His cock bulged against his dark boxers, making an impressive tent. And then he tugged his boxers down, his cock bobbing free in the air.
Jess’s mouth fell open—she couldn’t help it. And like hell if she could look away. The thing was a work of art, veiny, bulbous head and all. He climbed onto the bed, nudging her legs apart with his knee.
“I almost forgot what he looked like,” she murmured, trying to account for the blatant staring.
“Don’t worry. You’ll never forget again.” He chuckled softly at her ear, nibbling at her earlobe. Prickles of desire shot through her, followed by doubt. Was it wrong to hook up with Alistair? She grabbed at his shoulders, making him face her.
“You don’t feel like you’re hooking up with a stranger, right?”
His jaw clenched, his gaze sweeping over her. “No. Not entirely, at least.”
She nodded. “I mean, what if we had just met four days ago? Would you still be…you know…” She jerked her chin toward his bobbing cock.
“If I had met you four hours ago, I would want you right where you are,” Alistair said, voice velvety and firm near her ear. She reached for him, smoothing her palm over the velvety head of his
cock. He grunted, which made her pussy throb in response.
Aside from being the sexiest penis she’d seen in real life or porn or anywhere else, it was definitely the biggest she’d ever come across. And somehow, that was supposed to fit inside her. The virgin.
“We definitely have to go slow,” she mumbled through a kiss, wrapping her hand around the steely hardness of his cock. “It’s been awhile. And I want to savor every last second.”
“And if you touch me anymore, I’ll come immediately,” he whispered into her ear, his voice gravelly. “The week of anticipation has been killing me, Jess. I swear, I could have come at dinner just from the way you were looking at me.”
Her mouth parted, the sexiness of his words searing through her. Her breathing picked up and she worked him faster, egged on by the confession. “Oh yeah? You like it when I look at you like that?”
“It’s like you’re fucking me with your eyes,” he growled, his hips bucking slightly as she fisted him. “All I could think about was you touching me…me sinking deep inside you…”
Her breath hitched, and she pumped him faster, her chest heaving. She’d given a guy a hand job before, but she’d never wanted to like this. Suddenly, she was so desperate to make him come she’d do almost anything. “Mmm, Alistair, you’re going to feel so good inside me,” she panted. His hips bucked harder as she jacked him off. “I want to feel every last inch of your huge cock.”
He grunted, his body shuddering and then stilling. She looked down, finding a graceful arc of white cum spread across her low belly. Alistair laughed, ragged and long, into the hollow of her shoulder, and then placed a messy kiss on her lips.
“First one out of the way,” he whispered, “so now I can fuck you for as long I’ve been fantasizing about.”
She gulped, watching him climb off the bed to grab some tissues from the night stand to clean her up. Phase one was done, but could she really handle phase two? Besides, every time she thought he’d broken the record of sexiest thing ever uttered, he went and set a new standard. You’re in trouble. You’ve already given your boss a hand job, and now he’s going to fuck you until daybreak.
But to hell with it. She wanted it. And if she didn’t get it now, she’d explode.
Alistair climbed back onto the bed, looking just as hungry as before. His lips found her low belly, making a moist trail up to her ribs. He prompted her to roll onto her side so he could unhook her bra, and then he eased it off, revealing one breast at a time.
He released a reverent sigh, his gaze lingering for too long. She cupped them, trying to keep them in the center instead of flopping off to the sides. They probably weren’t as perky as he was used to, with all the gorgeous models and celebrities in his history.
He grabbed her hands, pinning them to the bed at her sides while he placed soft kisses over each breast. She wriggled beneath him, the heat between her legs doubling with each confident kiss. And then he took a nipple between his lips, the damp heat of his mouth making her go rigid beneath him.
A strangled moan escaped her, and her legs spread involuntarily. All she wanted was him, buried inside her, until there was nothing left. He looked up at her with a mischievous look as he licked and teased each nipple. She writhed beneath him, pinned by the wrists.
“Marigold,” he cooed, and then he trailed his kisses downward, over her belly, to the lace edge of her panties. She tensed, anxieties breaking through the pretty haze of her buzz. Oh my God. He can’t eat me out. That’s not allowed. He can’t—
Her thoughts dissolved when the heat of his mouth pressed against the crotch of her panties. He tugged at the scrap of fabric with his teeth, and he released a wrist so that his fingers could press beneath her panties. She moaned, pussy pulsing with desperation as he circled and teased the expectant nub of her clit. She had imagined what this might be like thousands of times. The fantasies hadn’t even come close.
“Alistair,” she panted, arching her back toward him. “Please. I need it.”
He chuckled evilly, grazing his thumb so lightly over her clit that she thought she imagined it. “Oh yes. You do. But will you get it?”
She groaned, reaching for his head, knotting her fingers into his hair. “Don’t even play around like that.”
He hummed, nuzzling the dampness between her legs. “I’m not playing—this is quite serious.”
Alistair pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, almost like signaling a retreat. She groaned, locking her ankles behind him, imagining herself from above. Here she was, her boss’s face buried between her legs, after proposing to her and her accepting. What the hell had life become? She bit back a laugh, loving the absurdity of it, relishing how right it felt despite being so new and strange.
And then Alistair pushed her panties aside and took her clit between his lips, massaging it with flat, firm strokes. She cried out, arching her back, whole body rigid as though afraid to move and interrupt this perfection. Alistair stroked and prodded and tapped at her eager nub. After a few moments, he slid a finger into her, and then another. Every new thing he did or added pushed her closer to the edge, sending shock waves of delight and heat through her. Her entire body vibrated with the approaching orgasm.
“Jess,” he said after a while, his voice raw, breaking through the haze of her pleasure. “You’re going to snap my head off.”
She inhaled sharply, realizing she’d trapped him in a vicelike grip between her thighs. She covered her face with her hands, a laugh escaping her that bordered on a sob. God, she was so new to this. And she was literally seconds away from the most incredible orgasm of her life.
“I’m so close,” she wailed into her hands. “Please, Alistair.”
He pushed up, leaning back onto his heels so he could tug her panties off. He tossed them aside and then covered her body with his, wiggling his hips into place.
“I want to feel you come around me,” he whispered, dragging kisses over her jaw. “I want you to come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”
She moaned, pinching her eyes shut. “I will, I promise. You’re going to have to scrape me off the bed.”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to her lips as he prompted her legs wider. He reached between them, guiding his cock into the right place. She gasped when his cockhead pressed into the wet folds of her pussy.
“Oh my God,” she moaned into his shoulder. “Please. Hurry.”
He grunted as he pressed himself into her, the thick head stretching her. She tensed automatically but reminded herself to relax as he eased into her, inch by lingering inch. After a moment, he stilled, sweat prickling on his brow.
“You’re so tight, love.” His voice came out ragged.
“I told you. It’s been a while.” Like my entire life. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he wiggled deeper.
His breath came out ragged and pained, something so raw that it sounded like he was injured. Did sex noises always sound like this? We’re like two feral animals mating. When Alistair found the last centimeters of space, he stilled, his chest heaving.
“Love,” he gasped out. “You feel fucking incredible.”
She rocked her hips against him, urging him to move. A vortex of bliss and heat and emotion was coiling up between her legs. She just needed him to keep moving, to get her over the precipice. “I don’t…I can’t even explain…”
Alistair started a jerky rhythm against her, tiny grunts punctuating the air. After a few thrusts, he scooped her legs up around him. She locked her ankles behind him, gasping from the unexpected shift in angle, the way it made all her nerve endings light on fire. A strange wail emerged from her.
“You like that,” he murmured, thrusting hard against her. “When I fuck you that deep.”
She whimpered and nodded, vision going spotty and dark. She would fucking explode if she didn’t get off now. There was no way around it. She’d die if he didn’t make her come.
Alistair rolled his hips against her, popping a nipple between his lips,
tugging at the bumpy skin there, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She keened low, clutching at his back, unsure if she wanted to sob or scream or wail or curse.
“Faster,” was all she could say.
Alistair’s body tensed on top of her as he pumped harder, his muscles sinewy ridges beneath her hands, sweat glistening at his temples and across the flat planes of his chest. She locked her thighs around him, stilling herself in just the right position as he thrust, squeezing her eyes shut against the rapid rise of boiling pleasure.
“Fuuuuuck,” she said, digging her nails into his back. She’d completely dislodged from normalcy. All codes of conduct had flown out the window. She was naked and dripping wet and aching and completely at his mercy. “I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming!”
Alistair didn’t relent at the news, simply ground into her harder, his sexy grunts forming the soundtrack to her explosive orgasm. Pleasure churned, hot and fierce inside her, until it spilled and drenched and coated and drowned her, a wave of energy that she’d never been able to access on her own, not with her own hand, not in a million years.
She lay panting and quivering beneath him, clutching onto his bicep like he was a life raft in the sea of this orgasm. Alistair’s abdomen went rock hard while he came, his face contorting into something desperate yet sexy. He groaned, slipping himself out of her, rolling over and pulling her into his arms.
“Holy hell,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against his chest. The tangy scent of his manliness, sweat and soap and something undeniably Alistair, crowded her senses. She pulled him closer, wanting to become one with him. “That was…”
He kissed the top of her head, breathing heavily. “Epic?”
She couldn’t slow her breathing to save her life. She might never recover from that orgasm. “More than that.”
“Other worldly.”
“Getting closer,” she whimpered against his chest, desperate to prolong this moment for as long as possible. His heat soothed her, made her feel like she was coddled and caressed and loved all at the same time.
The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series Page 15