“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” I wouldn’t be hiding in this tiny apartment from my friends, and my job, and that monster Maxim Stein.
“Your knuckles tell a different story.” I looked down at my hands, now cracked and bleeding. They would hurt like a bitch tomorrow, but for now, they were mostly numb.
Alec tilted his head, so that I was forced to meet his eyes. His navy shirt was wrinkled, untucked from his jeans, and as he rolled his shoulders back I watched the way the buttons across his chest strained.
“If we hadn’t stopped, what would happen tomorrow?”
I searched for my top to cover up. Stupid, impulsive move kissing him. Too hotheaded.
“Would you stay in my bed?”
I’d been confused, that was all. Alec and I were finished.
“Would you tell Amy?”
I halted. My weight shifted from one leg to the other. Amy. Paisley. I’d stayed away from Alec because they’d been hurt. What was I doing?
“That’s what I thought.” Alec’s voice was low. “I won’t be your mistake, Anna. Not anymore.”
I snatched the shirt off the coffee table and jerked it over my head. My body was warm in all the wrong ways now. Embarrassment and shame lit me up like a stoplight.
“Quit acting like I’m throwing myself at you like some kind of whore.”
He moved fast, boxing me in against the punching bag. Though he was still an arm’s length away, his big body blocked out the light, making me realize how small I was beside him.
“I never said that. I would never say that.” The anger made his words sharp. His close proximity was making it hard to breathe again.
“No.” I shoved him back, the words spilling out before I caught them. “You’d tell me wanting you was wrong. And then apologize for fucking me.”
A strangled noise came from his throat.
“For not being a better man. That’s what I apologized for.” He looked at the ceiling, raked back his hair. “You have no idea how hard it is not to act on every fucking urge that rises up every time I look at you.”
His words tripped me up.
“Maybe you should tell Janelle that.”
Confusion drew his brows together. His chin lifted.
“Janelle’s married.”
Well. That was unexpected.
“I thought she told you that when you saw her at the hotel,” he said. “She’s been married seven years. The long assignments keep her and her husband apart a lot. That’s why he came. No one was supposed to see them together.”
I could still see her with that stupid smile on her face and her messy hair. She was in love. With her husband.
“You knew she was married?” I asked weakly.
“Of course,” he said. Then he laughed. “Jesus. Anna. We were never together. I’m not that big of an asshole.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, and his grin melted. Part of me had known this all along. Part of me was pissed he hadn’t come out with it sooner.
“It was a diversion,” he said. “After you and Amy were hurt at the bridge, Janelle stepped in to draw the focus away from the people I care about. Only a handful of people knew about it. Mike nearly kicked my ass when I told him I was seeing someone new.”
I’d been targeted by Trevor Marshall because it would hurt Alec. He was trying to avoid a repeat performance. I thought of how Mike and Amy had subtly encouraged me to move on. They’d legitimately thought Alec was dating someone else.
“Your plan didn’t work,” I said.
Now it was his turn to look away.
“No. It didn’t work.”
“Then why did you meet with her today?” I asked.
“We’re maintaining the front,” he said. “We had lunch at a hotel. The press showed up. They’re not talking about you if they’re talking about Janelle.”
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to dislike her the longer he talked.
I pulled my sweat-dampened hair back, trying to make sense of this. Alec had lied to me about Janelle for my protection. They’d never been together. Janelle was still on the case.
One question rose above the rest.
“Why didn’t you fight for me?”
A shadow crossed over his face. “What?”
“Why didn’t you try to change my mind after that night on the bridge?”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighed.
“For the same reason you ended it in the first place. Because I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”
We stood across from each other, soaking up these truths. The words were out now, the curtains all pushed aside. All that remained was the question of where that left us now.
Neither of us asked it, probably because neither of us knew the answer.
His head fell forward. His shoulders rose as he inhaled, and then, as if he’d made some decision, his gaze lifted, and he shoved back his dark, wavy hair with one hand.
“You want to get out of here?”
“Yes.” I didn’t care where we went, I just needed some air.
He strode back to the kitchen, where two new bags had been set on the counter. He must have brought them in when I’d been on my kickboxing streak. He rifled through them quickly, and pulled out a smaller paper bag.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A surprise.”
Now that my blood had cooled, I could feel the fatigue in my muscles. My shoulders would be sore, not to mention my torn-up hands. I walked tentatively toward him, pausing when he retrieved the gun out of the drawer and tucked it into the back of his waistband beneath his shirt.
“Are we going to stick up a mini-mart?” I asked. “Because if so, I forgot my ski mask at home.”
He smirked. “Just a precaution.”
I looked down at my outfit—boxer shorts and an undershirt tank top, mostly see-through thanks to the sweat on my skin. My hair was a mess. I would have killed for some lip gloss or even some tinted ChapStick.
“I should change.”
“Not for where we’re going. Come on.”
Where we were going turned out to be the waterfront. Mac’s restaurant was doing good business tonight, but we walked the opposite direction from the deck, down to a private beach, where the path was clear, and the music was just a whisper over the waves.
Night had come, and the moon was hidden by wispy gray clouds that stretched across the black sky. The air was tinged with the smell of salt, and a light breeze played with the tips of my hair, cooling off the thick, warm August air.
Matt stayed fifty yards behind us, but after a while disappeared. I think he was still there, but was giving us our privacy.
Alec and I sat on the shore, and slipped off our shoes. He passed the bag to me, and I almost cried when I saw the familiar pink box and plastic fork.
“You got me a cupcake?” The shop was down the street from Alec’s apartment. I’d gone there way too much when he’d been in prison.
He smiled. “I got three. I wasn’t sure what kind.”
“Is there chocolate?”
“They’re all chocolate,” he said. “Different types of chocolate.”
“I have fantasies less satisfying than this moment,” I admitted.
He chuckled. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
He leaned back on his arms, long legs kicked out before him, and I mirrored his position, burying my toes in the sand. The first bite was the perfect mix of German chocolate cupcake and coconut frosting. I moaned, and flopped onto my back, savoring the taste.
When I passed him the bag, he waved it off.
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying not to stare too long at the way the glow of the stars off the water softened the lines of his face, or made his eyes shine even brighter.
&
nbsp; “Is this part of the Feed a Starving Anna plan?”
“No.” He stared out at the water. “It’s part of the Make an Anna Smile plan.”
I sat up, touched by his words, and this utterly satisfying gesture.
“It’s working.”
He glanced over, as if to check, right as I was licking some frosting off my finger. For one long beat he stared at my mouth, before looking away.
I set down the uneaten half of the cupcake on the box before I did something embarrassing, like shove the whole thing in my face.
“Just to be clear on something,” I said. “Janelle won’t be filing any charges against me for going to that hotel, right?”
He threw back his head and laughed, and I giggled, too, because the sound of it was so contagious.
“No, you’re in the clear.”
“That’s a relief.”
After a while he fell quiet. “What made you follow her?”
I clasped my hands, glad that the darkness hid my blush.
“I heard her talking on the phone. I guess I was still messed up from everything. I might still be.” I waved my empty hand. “I thought you might be in trouble.”
I remembered the fear I’d felt sitting in that cab, willing the traffic to clear so we could get to him faster. It hadn’t been a question that I would go to him. I hadn’t thought twice about it.
“So you came to rescue me?”
The water was close. I might be able to drown myself before he caught up.
“It was pretty stupid in hindsight,” I muttered.
The humor in his voice was gone when he spoke again.
“No one’s ever taken up for me like you.”
A wave reached our feet, but neither of us moved. The water was only slightly cooler than the outside temperature. Our hands were close, and I hooked my pinky around his. It was the only place we touched, but it felt like a lifeline.
“When all this is over, where will you go?” he asked quietly.
The hollow feeling returned, reminding me how empty I could feel inside. A week ago I’d felt it when I thought about staying. Now it returned at the prospect of saying good-bye.
I stood up, and walked toward the water. A soft wave hit my feet and pulled me down, the wet sand squishing between my toes. The darkness protected me, and the starlight made my skin glow, and with the breeze moving my hair and tickling the back of my neck, I knew what I needed to do.
I waded deeper.
The sand compressed behind me as Alec rose.
Deeper.
I could hear him coming toward me.
The water hit my knees. My thighs. It wet the bottoms of the boxer shorts, and brought a sharp intake of breath as it rose between my legs. I took off my shirt and threw it back behind me.
I dove, just as Alec called my name. The saltwater washed over me, dragging through my hair, making me clean. I stayed down until my lungs burned, and Alec’s slippery hands gripped my bare ankle.
And then I rose, and wrapped my arms around him, soaking any part of him that wasn’t already wet. I held on as we rocked side to side in the waves, as he gripped me hard against his chest and buried his face in my neck.
I was his anchor, and he was mine.
Seventeen
His cock filled me with one, slow, deep stroke. My legs wrapped around his hips as he began to work me, harder and faster, the pressure rubbing all the right places as he lifted my hips and pumped downward. His eyes stayed on mine, even as the dark strands of his hair fell forward.
The throbbing between my legs stole my focus, tore my thoughts away from everything but the slick, heavy feel of him inside of me. Heat raced through my body. Coils of lust twisted tighter and tighter, until I thought I would burst. I was close. So close.
I groaned his name, begging for the release only he could give me.
And woke.
The breath raked my throat. My body was damp, trembling, flushed with need. I ran my hands over the sheets, wishing that this wasn’t real, that he was still inside of me. I could still feel him there, thrusting in and out. My thighs were wet with what he had done to me.
The bed was empty. I was empty.
My tongue rubbed against the roof of my mouth, remembering the taste of him from earlier. Spicy and dark. Demanding. I hungered for it now. I wanted more than that. I wanted to lick the head of his cock and draw him deep into my mouth. I wanted him to fist my hair and lose control.
I was so hot I was going to explode.
My hand slid down my stomach, over the thin fabric of the tank top Alec had picked up at the store on his way home. Where was he? I’d fallen asleep in his arms but now he was gone.
I couldn’t wait. I kicked off the sheets, and reached lower, beneath my panties, to where I was hot and swollen and needing.
I gasped as my fingers found my clit. I didn’t waste time; I needed to get off. My fingers circled and pressed, following the exact motions I knew would give me what I needed. It wasn’t as good as Alec’s touch, but even so he was there in my mind. Saying my name. Saying how good I felt around his dick. Grabbing my hips to thrust harder.
Telling me he loved me. Only me.
“Alec,” I moaned into the pillow.
The wicker chair in the corner creaked.
I bolted upright, heart in my throat. Digging in with my heels, I shoved my body back into the bedframe and jerked the covers up to my neck.
Alec stood, his shape barely discernible in the dark room, and in three steps he was standing beside the bed.
“Keep going.” A barely controlled demand.
Slowly, I lowered the blankets. I slid down again so I was lying on my back, looking up at him. His eyes glinted in the reflection of the moon through the open window, but the rest of his expression was hidden by shadows.
I was falling, gaining momentum with each second that passed. We weren’t even touching, both fighting for a control that was slipping through our fingers.
“Show me what you need,” he said. “I won’t get in the way.”
Nerves made my moves jerky, but any shame or disappointment was burned away by the recognition of what was happening. He wanted to watch me come.
I wasn’t the weak party favor Maxim Stein had tried to make me. I wasn’t scared, or hurt, or embarrassed. I was on fire. I was sexy as hell. And this gorgeous, protective man wanted me.
My fingers slipped beneath my panties again, but before I could go further, he gave a throaty growl.
“Take them off.”
I hooked my thumbs in the sides, lifted my ass, and shimmied out of them. He breathed in sharply.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Look at you.”
A silent competition was building. Who would break first. Who would give in and finish what we’d started in the apartment. He denied me his touch, and I defied him with temptation, laying myself out before him like a feast. Challenging him to keep his hands to himself.
There was a muffled sound of moving clothing, and then the bedframe creaked as he gripped it.
“Touch yourself,” he said, voice strained.
I wanted to be graceful and seductive, but there was too much desire surging through me. My knees parted, and my hand slipped lower.
“Tell me what it feels like,” he said.
I closed my eyes. I wished he would feel for himself, but there was something incredible erotic about knowing he got off on watching me give myself pleasure.
“Slippery,” I said. “Hot. I’m so wet.”
“Spread your legs wider.”
I opened my knees as far as I could. I doubted he could see much, but he could surely hear the rhythmic movement of my hand against my slick skin. My breath came faster.
“Do you like that?” I asked. I wanted his dirty words.
“It kills me,” he
whispered. “It fucking destroys me.”
A brushing sound reached my ears. His hand was sliding over his cock, still trapped within his pants. I had him now. I was winning. Victory mingled with desire, and made the strokes of my hand heavier.
But as much as I wanted him to give in, I found myself afraid of taking the next step. What had happened at his apartment had been desperate, but this was something else. Loving Alec Flynn was dangerous, and if he touched me now there would be no turning back.
“You’re close,” he said. “I can hear it. Fuck. Pinch your nipples.”
I reached beneath the thin fabric of my tank top, and found the peaks already hard and hypersensitive. A breathy shudder raked through me as the surge of pleasure slammed into my cunt. He knew what I needed even without touching me.
“Was I fucking you?” he whispered.
I could feel his breath on my bare hip. The knowledge that his mouth was so close to my center catapulted me to a new level of desire. If I moved my leg, I would straddle his face.
If he wanted that, he would have to take it himself.
“It wasn’t gentle, was it? Not the way you were moaning in your sleep.”
I didn’t want to come yet, but I couldn’t slow down.
“Do you remember how it feels when I’m inside you?”
“Alec,” I whimpered. “Alec, please.”
He groaned. The bedframe creaked. My back arched as every muscle in my body pulled taut. He moved again, and I readied myself for him to touch me, or kiss me, or fill me with his huge cock. But my body couldn’t wait for him to catch up. My mind was spinning, barely registering the groan of the wooden door in the background. Then the pleasure spilled over, in a shock of bright colors that made me cry out in relief.
I came down too fast, not the way I would have if he’d been inside me. My own hand was efficient, but couldn’t give me the kind of touch that left me reeling.
It only took a few seconds to realize I was alone.
I sat up, looking around the small room, hoping that this was a mistake. It was dark, maybe the shadows had played tricks on me. He wasn’t beside me though, and he wasn’t in the wicker chair.
The door was closed. He’d seen me vulnerable, made me vulnerable, and then left.
The Confession Page 14