“I’ve imagined you exactly where you are,” Alec breaks in.
My head shifts slightly, and I catch sight of him. He’s on the threshold between the deck and the living room, our eyes exchanging carnal indulgence. I exhale. He’s so tantalizing, stirring my body to clench in angles and places I never remarked could.
He sets a small bowl of grapes on a side table by a reclining patio chair and does the same with a wooden butcher board, displaying a small array of cheese and water biscuits.
“You’ve put me through hell these last few days,” I say, my soft voice laced with audacity.
Alec startles.
His shoulders roll up until he’s strikingly erect, drawing his t-shirt snug against his chest. His spine completely straightens, and he can’t be anymore arresting. I brace myself because he’s so imposing and exquisitely manly this way. I gasp lightly, wishing it were darker because my face is burning.
Alec’s caught so off-guard that he’s still struggling with what to say. I really do love it when I manage that. He frowns, desperately grasping for words. I turn on my heel, confronting him head-on from tip to toe, the curve of my back touching the railing.
“I feel like I run rampant with you,” I continue, “and I can’t, for the life of me, decide if I like it or not.”
He licks his lips, passing a fleeting look to the woods behind me.
“Do you want to go?” he asks, his mouth issuing me a hard line.
“No,” I respond.
His relief is palpable. I flush, desiring him all over again.
“It’s just that I hardly recognize myself when I’m with you, and if we’re being honest here,” I dish out, “I don’t even have to be with you for that to happen. I just think of you, and I’m suddenly someone I’ve never met before. You’re too much, Alec. It’s too disconcerting.”
He’s transfixed. I’ve put my cards down on the table, and there’s no misconstruing what I’m presenting. Once again, I’ve plucked the courage to come out with it—chronically trying something dangerous or unexpected when I’m around Alec which is indicative of the point I’m trying to bring to light.
His gaze pins me down, and I’m taken aback. He takes a cool, solid step forward but halts after completing it like he’s remembered something.
“Can I come closer?” he asks, echoing the question he summoned in O’Malley’s pool, the one he made after I concluded the narration of my dreams. It’s a brief, succinct question, but it means absolutely everything to me.
“No,” I say, and leap forward, winding down my stony demeanour by securing my mouth against his. I kiss him violently and desire explodes.
Alec groans in my mouth, the sound reverberating through me. On the double, it sends a ripple of intense pleasure through me. I pour everything I’m feeling into this kiss, liberating every plea and trace of truth. Alec has an expulsion of desire with me, his fingers digging barbarously into my hair, and I feel his wrists pressing on my cheeks. I can hardly kiss him as I want to with the unbridled squeeze to my face. He snaps off from my mouth, and we heave air into our lungs, decelerating the panting.
“Do you have any idea how much it bloody hurts to never know if you’re coming or going?” he asks, his forehead flattening mine.
I nod.
His mouth swoops down again, delectably invading mine.
“No, you don’t, Caroline.” He gives me another grave squeeze, pressing his body against mine as he sucks and nibbles at my neck.
My mind is a blustery mess. I can’t form a proper thought, but my body rejoices at the evidence of his hot fervour. The intensifying rigidness behind his denim hounds me closely to where I ache and need. Reluctantly, he begins to disconnect. We’re half-hearted about it, definitely unenthusiastic and averse to the pain. It hurts in ways I’ve never known to stop a kiss. He steps back, slowly releasing my shoulders from his palms. My mouth is dry and slack, and Alec hooks my hands with his. Even that makes me subtly quake.
“Love, you need to stop kissing me because I can’t bear to sever connections with you, and we need to talk,” he says, wiping his beautiful face with the back of a hand.
I draw in a breath. “Okay,” I manage through the hot squall of a lascivious windstorm.
“Okay,” he says feebly.
I sigh, returning to my original place by the railing, taking in the obscuring scenery. Alec shuffles inside, and I pry my eyes to stay where they are, staring through the trees intently at nothing at all. My legs are numb, and the rest of my body laments. I inwardly groan. The yearning makes me tender all over.
“Wine,” Alec says upon his return. I hear him deposit a bottle on the table, and he joins me at my side, proffering a stemless glass, and we clink the goblets.
“Cheers, love.”
“Cheers,” I say.
“Now, ask me what you must, Caroline. Let’s get this done and finally over with, sweetheart.” His gaze is intense.
A breath catches in my throat.
There are so many things I can say, questions I can knit out, judgements I can make. I tread lightly, eyeing golden rules at all times: think before you speak, don’t judge him if you haven’t walked in his shoes. I’m not here to deliver a ruling on the matter. My offer to Alec is letting him bend my ear. This isn’t some fork in our road. We’re just at an intersection, converging bit by bit, methodically and cautiously as I’d treat anything that’s delicate and precious to me. I’m not certain what my plan was tonight before arriving here, but I’m more acquainted with my intentions now. I’m here to listen, comprehend, and maybe leave here appreciating him more than I already do. I’ve budged my inner child, and she’s awake, making room for Alec around the orange life saver in a pool of compassion, as this man takes a staunch and undeniable place alongside my father and Sofie—around that life buoy in my dream.
I aim to lighten the mood somewhat.
“When was your last girlfriend?” I ask, discerning that it not only came out wrong, but it’s not exactly the topic we’re to be conversing about at this very moment.
He looks wildly around the great outdoors.
“My last girlfriend,” he asks gobsmacked.
I watch Alec dither over whether he should laugh or make an objection. I wait for his confusion to taper down.
“I tell you something that made you absolutely shudder, not to mention coming forth with it was hardly easy on me, and you’re asking about my female companions?”
“We’ll get to the other thing soon enough,” I announce.
“We’ll get to it?” he baulks. Alec’s eyes narrow with a small, emerging grin. “Will you ever stop surprising me, Caroline?”
I watch him collect his thoughts as he attempts to decrypt mine.
“What would be the fun in that?”
He glares down at me, the wonder in his eyes spiked by passion. It’s breathtaking.
“What would be the fun indeed,” he utters potently. “You beguile me. You know that, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I say, playing along some more, definitely testing my flirting capabilities.
“A tad proud of yourself, too, are you?”
I falter because a smile breaks out, and I purse my mouth to obstruct a rising chuckle. Alec shakes his head slightly. “Do you have any idea how alluring you are when you’re brave like this?”
I shift, locating a spot for my glass but don’t make a move to deposit it yet.
“You’re bewitching, Caroline. I should stay clear of you.”
“Right back at you, love.” I steal his line.
“Touché.” He smirks.
Alec takes my glass and leads me to the chaise longue. I recline, my feelings hardly reposed, but I manage awkwardly to settle in quasi-comfortable. He sits next to me, his back side skimming my legs as he reaches for the nibblers he’s prepared. He twists a little to fac
e me, serving me a cracker topped with a sliver of goat cheese. I accept it cautiously. His hand so close to my mouth disorients me, and it’s taxing to guard my tongue from touching his fingers.
“I suppose my last girlfriend, per se, was back in England,” Alec begins, “maybe over two years ago. I was home for longer stretches then, and we were in a semi-relationship near and around seven months.” Alec feeds me a grape. I bite on it, and the relief its juiciness brings makes me realize how parched and dehydrated I’ve gotten.
“What’s her name?” I ask.
Alec looks at me askew.
“Love, I don’t mean to be a complete arse, but she’s inconsequential. Albeit she’s fine and dandy and all, but she never really grew on me more than that.”
“Name,” I press.
He lets a heavy sigh go.
“Thea,” he says, “She was a colleague of an old mate, his flatmate for a while, too, and we dated more or less exclusively after a few weeks of casual set ups and encounters. I did try to want more from that, but it didn’t amount to anything for me. I was sincere with her, and she and I resolved to faze the relationship out without dramatic consequence.”
“Do you still keep in touch?” I ask, hoping I’m not exhibiting insecurities. I do find myself wondering what Thea looks like, though.
“No. I heard she married, and I wish her well,” he says, nonchalant.
“Any other longstanding relationships?” I carry on, and he pops another grape into my mouth.
Alec’s seemingly less on edge to share, now.
“Just casual encounters with women I stumble upon from time to time but nothing I’ve written home about. Never considered anything like that with any woman but you,” he says matter-of-factly. Alec serves up another cheese bite.
“You’ve considered telling your family about me?” I query, bringing a hand up to my face to collect crumbling morsels. My tongue slithers out a little further this time at his offering, and it grazes his finger. Alec pops his thumb into his mouth, licking it.
“I didn’t have time to consider it. I straight out told my sister about you,” he says, prepared with another grape and proffers my wine.
I blink. “You did?” I ask, feeling mildly thrilled and privileged.
“Indeed. In fact, I told Naomi that I had brought you up to speed on my family’s past, and she’s been eager to hear from me, wanting to know how this enchantress in my life received the unnerving details. I can guarantee there’s a picture of you circulating across the sea as we speak.” He winks.
“You sent them a picture?”
“They were curious. You’ve fascinated me and that fascinates them.”
“What picture?” I demand.
“A random image I managed on my mobile.”
Oh.
“Why do you always make me feel like I should be more alarmed than I am?”
“If you were my sister, which I thank the universe you’re not, I’d have to agree with you. But since I know me then I can tell you there’s absolutely nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”
Alec raises the glass to my mouth, tilting it between my lips. I taste the wine, trying to swallow it quietly and gracefully. A trickle wets my chin, and Alec catches it, sucking the droplet from his finger. He pitches me an enigmatic smile. I think I’m ready to test the rough waters that await us, so I bid him in.
“Alec?” I speak up softly.
“Yes, love.”
“What happened with your father?” I coax, the words a sucker punch.
“Well,” he commences, sounding resigned, “my grandmother was leading my sisters out of her home. Olivia and Naomi were so beside themselves—frantically wailing, and Mum was literally snatched in my father’s hand, her hair locked in his grip,” Alec imparts, his jaw clenching.
He looks sick from the memories, and I regret launching this shock to his system. But one thing Alec’s taught me is that ignoring the past is worse.
“Mum had retched from his force,” he continues, “vomiting on herself and on my father, and his anger flared. A bruise had already pushed up against her cheek immediately after his first blow, and I couldn’t decide who to tend to first—my mother, my sisters.” I think Alec will get up and pace, instead he stays on edge, rubbing the back of his neck. “My father had been harassing Grams, too, because she made it clear that she had had enough. She warned him she wouldn’t listen to her daughter anymore and threatened to call in official enforcement.”
I watch his audible stress attack his body. Alec looks dejected.
“Mum was under this illusion that she was sparing us humiliation, and Grams was having none of it anymore. My father threatened my sisters, basically blamed my mother for him ruining our lives, and he flung insults at me. She remained so ridiculously adamant about not wanting the police implicated, and I was daft enough to ask if we could finally call them—if Mum could handle that option. Then, something came over me.” He shifts to face me entirely. “I discounted my mother and yelled to my grandmother and fleeing sisters to ring the police, after all. Mum was practically incoherent under his grip, probably becoming heavier to keep elevated, and my father blamed her for the mess and told me to bugger off and mind my business. He wouldn’t release her, and even with one free arm, he began to wrestle me. It wasn’t right away, but at some point, I had had enough,” he admits, looking vulnerable as he exhales.
“I remember becoming overcome by wrath—almost asphyxiated by rage—and I knocked him a couple of times, wanting to disable him and really hurt him until we never saw him again. One of those blows managed to fracture him to a demise.”
I gulp, drawing back.
Alec sounds so fragile that I fret for him, worrying over his discomfort of speaking about this and the burden he holds tight. All my efforts to keep the valve of my longing turned off is wholly reversed. Tears prick my eyes.
Alec withdraws somewhat, his eyes widening with fear as he takes a sharp breath.
“Do you want to go?” he asks.
I swallow. “No,” I say firmly, but I’m hardly capable of speaking with the lump swelling in my throat. “I just really hate that you went through that. All of you—your entire family.”
He gazes at me, stunned.
“You do understand what I’m owning up to?”
“I do.”
“But if there’s one thing my father taught me, Caroline, is how to not treat a woman. I’m a better man for it. But I did an unconscionable thing. I retaliated harshly.”
“I understand.”
He slackens.
Alec’s fear fades, and at barely an arm’s length, I can transfer my fondness with a touch. I think about glazing my finger over his hand, or embracing his arm to nestle my head on the crest of a muscle. I stare impassively at the heady foliage, and like a star flickering out of the sky, Ryan evaporates—a character in my book of life that’s come and gone from my story. Pain lances through me.
“Alec?” I ask faint-heartedly.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“This doesn’t mar you.”
He licks his glorious lips. “I thought I’d be ruined in your eyes.”
Mine narrow.
“That’s so far from the truth.” I hope to set his mind at rest.
Alec reconnects with our place in the world, stretching out to pick a grape, and readying to feed me. He pauses.
“I’m in awe of you,” he says. “I’m in awe that you’ve come out to see me of your own volition.”
I open my mouth slightly, beckoning Alec to fill it. He obeys, producing the grape. I clasp the plump, pulpy fruit, trapping his fingers in my locking lips. My mouth becomes moist, saturating the tips of his hand. I bite down on the nectar, and my tongue collects it, circulating around Alec’s finger, gliding and brushing the top of it until I draw more of it in, lapping my
tongue around it until I have a mouthful. Alec stifles a gasp, but his eyes implore. He looks dazed and affected.
Blinking up at him, I endure this glorious suffering, keeping an eye on Alec watching me. I’m bashful and dauntless at once, heart hammering and blood jutting against my veins. Everything inside me unfurls, and everything about Alecsander is hard and tense. He’s so rigid and frozen, totally in awe with my shameless disposition.
“You’re killing me, love,” Alec manages a whimper.
I persist, my sanity yet to be recovered, and Alec’s eyes shut forcefully, darting open with a passionately penetrating glare. He stands, hauling me up with him, clasping my hand and returning a quick thrashing of my fingers with his tongue. Our breathing is noisy, my heart thunders in my ears, and it’s positively aflutter below my belly. He stares me down, hoisting me up, and instantly my legs wrap around him.
“Tell me what you want,” he snarls, but conveys doting affection.
I restore my bravery, not taking my eyes off his.
“You,” I mutter. “I want you.”
Alec presses into my face, his nose flattening mine, and his fingers manipulate my lips. The heat of his breath enters my mouth, mingling with my own, warming my chin. I feel naked and unashamed.
“I want you, too, love,” Alec says between staccato breaths. “But if we defer to this, then you must know that I’m mad about you, Caroline. I worship you, and I’ll try everything to deserve you if you decide you can’t totally be with me. Unless you tell me to back away, I will live trying to be worthy of you.”
I stop him from saying more, clipping his lip between my teeth. I feel fearless: profusely deft and nimble.
His eyes sear. “Where shall we explore each other?” he asks nuzzling my hair, electrifying my ear.
“I don’t care,” I hiss. “Here… floor… I don’t care.” I pant.
He smirks. “Now where’s your romantic side, love? I want you where I sleep, Caroline. I want to make love to you upstairs, and I’ll devour you downstairs. Yes?”
All of These Things Page 16