Of Demons & Stones: A Tri-Stone Trilogy

by Anne L. Parks

  He gently pulls my chin toward his face and kisses my lips, sweeping his across my eyes, nose, and temple covering my face with tender pecks.

  I lower my head to his chest and close my eyes. This feels so perfect, so right. There's something in the way he's caressing me. Cherishing me, an unfamiliar feeling.

  I need to keep this night—this amazing experience with Alex—in perspective. No matter how much I might want to continue this relationship, it will end tomorrow when I step off this boat. He told me, in no uncertain terms, there will be no second date.

  And it's fine with me. I don't need to aggravation of a relationship with the world's most eligible playboy bachelor. Neither one of us is looking to get tied down.

  The rhythm of his breathing gently rocks me.

  If only my heart would stop doing flips at the thought of having more with Alex.

  Light fills the room. I look around, not sure where I am until I feel Alex behind me. His forehead presses against my back. His breathing is soft, slow, and relaxed. Draped across my hip is one of his arms, and a leg is nestled between mine. I freeze. I don't want to disturb his peaceful slumber, and I'm content being completely cocooned by him.

  Memories flood my mind—the kiss on the deck, dancing in the moonlight, and Alex's revelations. I snuggle in closer to him. He lifts his head, breathes in deeply, rolls onto his back, and yawns.

  I roll over and face him, a bit apprehensive. Last night, he admitted to having never spent the night with a woman. What if he regrets having me stay? What if he looks at me, gets out of bed, dresses, and leaves me here in bed?

  I lay on my side. Alex lifts both of his arms over his head and stretches. The muscles in his chest flex, and I bite my lower lip while warmth courses through my body. He lowers his arms, and rolls onto his side to face me. Grasping my chin, he uses his thumb to free my lip . He gently draws it into his mouth, sucking on it, while he runs his tongue over the edge.

  My breath catches. The heat of his breath sends a hot shiver through me.

  He releases my lip. "Good morning," he says softly.

  I exhale and smile. "Good morning."

  "Sleep well?"

  "Very," I say. "You?"

  He widens his eyes. "Yes, surprisingly."

  "Ouch," I chide.

  Alex smiles, grabs my chin again, and kisses me. "I usually don't sleep well, and never through the whole night, silly."

  "Ah."

  Is it possible that this man, who is completely wrong for me on paper, is the man to make my dreams come true?

  I can't think this way. He does not have romantic relationships. And it's not what I want.

  I wrap my arms around him and nestle my head against his chest.

  As much as I'm fighting it, I wonder what life with Alex Stone would be like.

  Chapter Seven

  I wake and expect to find Alex asleep on his side of the bed. Instead, it's empty.

  I climb out of bed, walk into the bathroom, and pull my hair up. I splash water on my face and go in search of Alex.

  He's standing in the galley with his back to me. "Good morning...again," he says, without turning around.

  The gray-and-white plaid linen pajama bottoms sit low on his hips, and I bite my lip as I gaze in appreciation at his firm buttocks visible through the thin material. His upper body is bare, perfectly tanned and toned, and way too inviting.

  "Good morning." I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.

  I nestle my head between his shoulder blades. His skin is warm, and I breathe in his scent. It's a mixture of leather and spice and Alex, and it's the most intoxicating scent on earth. Calming, and yet all I want is to kiss every inch of his body and force him to have sex with me right here on the counter.

  I stave off the giggle that threatens to escape my throat from that mental pornographic moment.

  Behind me on the counter is a freshly brewed pot of coffee—my morning lifeline.

  "Oh, thank you, God," I murmur, release Alex, and head straight to the coffee.

  Alex glances over as I pull a mug from a peg on the wall and fill my cup. I take a sip, close my eyes, and relish the warm liquid as it rolls down my throat.

  "God had nothing to do with that, baby. That's all me." He places a bowl of cut fruit on the bar.

  I laugh and pull another cup off a peg. "Coffee?"

  Sauntering toward me, he places one arm around my waist and holds my chin with his other hand. "I love when you laugh." He kisses me, his tongue enticing its way into my mouth.

  My breathing ramps up, and my hands shake, nearly causing me to drop the coffee mugs.

  He releases me and takes the empty cup from my hand. "Love some. Thanks."

  With a slap to my behind, he turns away and sits at the bar.

  My nerves are suddenly shot. I slip onto the barstool next to him.

  Along with the fruit, there's a basket of croissants, with butter and jam. We fill our plates with huge strawberries, cantaloupe, and honeydew melon.

  Damn, I'm hungry.

  "Anything new since last night?" I bite into a strawberry.

  Alex sits back in his seat. "Hmm...have to think on that one." He strokes his chin.

  I study his face, commit every inch to memory. His hair is messy, stubble along his jaw, and still incredibly sexy.

  "Well, we accomplished the sleepover nicely." He winks at me.

  Sleep being the operative word. My dark insecurities run amok. Alex is known for having sex with the women he takes out. Yet here I am, alone with him on his boat, and he has not made a single sexual advance toward me. He's not interested in having sex, even for one night.

  I fluctuate between disappointment and appreciation, my moods manic. I'm sure sex with Alex would be amazing, and I'd like to think I can have a one-nighter with him. But I know I can't, and I'd like to bypass feeling used by him. I want nothing to mar my memories of this nearly perfect weekend.

  Besides, I got to make out with him, right? And I did sleep with him, something no other woman has done. Of course, I might be the only woman he hasn't had sex with either, which is depressing on a whole other level.

  I banish the thoughts. I'm here for fun—in whatever form that takes.

  Alex checks his watch and pops the last bit of honeydew into his mouth. "As much as I would love to keep you out here with me forever—and I really would love that, by the way—we need to start back."

  He kisses me. The sweetness of the melon lingers on his lips.

  Damn, it's impossible not to believe every word out of his mouth.

  He takes a few steps, stops, and turns back to me. "Will you go out to dinner with me?"

  My heart skips a beat. "Sure."

  A boyish grin slips across his face, and my entire body turns to mush. Hard-edged Alex Stone looking uncomfortable and sweet is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.

  "Good." He jogs up the stairs and mutters loud enough for me to hear, "Two dates with the same woman. Another first."

  He disappears, and I shake my head. I have no idea where this is going. Alex is on a journey of firsts and is bringing me along for the ride. As much as the logical side of my brain is telling me to jump off this train before it crashes, my suddenly adventurous heart is begging me to grab hold of something sturdy and hang on for the wild ride.

  I clean up the galley, dress, and join Alex on the top deck as he steers us home. Pulling myself into the first mate's chair, I bring my legs up into the seat.

  I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes. "You named your boat Zeus. Interesting choice. Does that mean you consider yourself a god?"

  Alex gasps and places his hand on his chest. "You don't think I'm a god?"

  "Oh, I definitely think you're a god. I asked if you consider yourself a god." I finish my third cup of coffee and place the cup on a small table next to me.

  "Well, Zeus was a god, but he was also a mean bastard. I guess that describes me pretty well."

  "How deeply and philoso
phically analyzed, Mr. Stone. I'm impressed."

  "I can go deep, Miss Tate." He wags his eyebrows at me.

  I mouth the word wow, shake my head, and laugh.

  "Your turn," Alex declares. "Last relationship you were in?"

  I shift in my seat. I hate this topic. "Ended horribly, and I have a daily reminder of it at work."

  "Uh-oh. Office romance?"

  I nod my head. "Biggest mistake of my life."

  "What happened?" he asks, glancing at me.

  "We dated for about a year, I left him, and I've spent the last year rebuilding my self-esteem."

  Alex furrows his brow and frowns. "What did he do to you?"

  The memories I've suppressed for the last year seep into my mind, and a wave of nausea passes through me. As much as my heart tells me to let it all out, my head reminds me that I know nothing about this man, and revealing this secret could be a huge mistake.

  Something about Alex makes me want to open up to him. It's as if I've found a safe place, but I have no basis for feeling this way.

  I wring my fingers, turning them a ghostly white. "He tore me down, told me I was stupid, ugly, bitchy. Convinced me I should be grateful he was willing to date me because no one liked me. He controlled me, controlled my access to friends."

  "Hit you?" Alex asks, his jaw clenched, and tension radiates off him.

  I shrug. I never talk about this. "A couple of times. He was more of a pusher. He would shove me into walls or knock me to the floor." I lower my head, close my eyes, and push back the memory forcing itself to the surface.

  He doesn't need to know how John beat me. How I fled in the rain that night, broken and bleeding. No, those memories will remain locked away forever. There are some things I will never talk about.

  I raise my head and force a smile. "One night, I left and never looked back."

  Deep lines crease his forehead. "Anyone I know?" He grips the wheel, and his knuckles are white.

  Why this is affecting him so deeply?

  I inhale deeply. "John Sysco."

  "I knew there was something about that guy that I couldn't stand," Alex says through clenched teeth.

  I snort. "He's not a big fan of you, either."

  He widens his eyes, but he doesn't say a word.

  I sigh. "He figured out you and I were texting the other day. I guess I was less than subtle. Anyway, it pissed him off."

  "Did he do anything to you?" Alex growls.

  "No, nothing like that," I say quickly. "He followed me back to my office, asked what was going on between you and me. He's bitter. He wants a reconciliation, and I keep refusing."

  Alex unclenches his jaw and smirks. "What an asshole."

  "Yeah, well, it's over."

  It was one of the darkest times in my life. I loathe reliving my relationship with John. I hate what he did to me, and I'm disgusted that I allowed him to take so much of my dignity.

  But Alex's reaction strikes me as odd. It's so much more than disgust over a man abusing a woman. It's as if he's taking it personally, as if there were something he could have done to prevent it.

  "Do you have some sort of history with John?" I ask.

  Alex gives me a sideways glance. "No. Why do you ask?"

  "Because you look like you want to beat the crap out of him. I thought there might be some bad blood between you two."

  Alex takes my hand, gently coaxes me off my seat, and pulls me against his body. He grasps my chin and lightly presses his lips against mine. "I don't have to have a personal vendetta against him to be upset that he hurt you. Any man who would do something so cowardly as to physically hurt you is not a man. And yes, if he were here, I would beat the crap out of him."

  He caresses my face and gazes into my eyes. I'm lost in the sea of blue. Lost in him.

  He wraps his arms around me, and whispers in my ear, "No one has the right to push you or hit you. And no one ever will again, if I can help it."

  In this moment, I feel completely safe. But something inside me tells me that Alex has not given me the full story. Somehow, he relates to my experience.

  Who from your past was abused, Alex? And who was the abuser?

  * * *

  The boat docks at the same spot we left the day before. I'm a little sad to be back on dry land. My inaugural yachting excursion was eye-opening on many levels. But I'll miss the way being in the open sea allowed me to relax and rejuvenate. Spending time with Alex was definitely the highlight.

  We walk hand in hand toward my Jeep, talking and laughing without a care in the world. It's not until he stops abruptly that I notice something is wrong.

  I gasp.

  "What the hell?" Alex mutters.

  Someone has slashed all four tires on my Jeep. Alex releases my hand and walks around the vehicle. He pulls out his cell phone, and makes a call.

  I'm frozen to the spot and stare at the large gash in one of the tires.

  Alex comes up beside me and places his hand around my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Kylie. I've never had an issue with the dock security. I should've picked you up."

  He glances around the parking lot. "No one else seems to have been hit. It's odd that only your Jeep was vandalized."

  My chest heaves up and down, but I remain quiet. I know who did this, and I know why. But I don't want to pull Alex into my drama and ruin the perfect weekend I just shared with him.

  I turn to him and paste a smile on my face. "Probably just some bored college students pulling a prank after the bars closed down." I shrug my shoulders.

  Alex wraps his arms around my waist. "Well, Jake is on his way and will drop you off at your house. I have a tow truck coming for the Jeep. Once the new tires are on, I'll have it delivered to you."

  "Alex, you don't have to do that. I can call Ray and have it taken care of." I run my hands up his arms and rest on his biceps.

  "I did call Ray, and it's taken care of, Kylie.” He places his hands against my lower back and pulls me into his hard body. "What I need for you to do is kiss me."

  I lose myself in his warm embrace, in his soft but persistent lips. A sense of protection invades me. I feel safe with Alex, and it feels too good to examine why at the moment.

  When the Mercedes SUV pulls up, Alex tosses my bag onto the backseat, and I slide in next to it. He leans in, inches away from me. It's intimate and sensual, and I squirm as heat rushes through my body.

  "Well, I hope you had a good time this weekend." He runs a finger across his bottom lip in that way that makes me horny as hell.

  "Yeah, it was okay." I grin.

  "Smart-ass."

  "I should probably come with some type of sarcasm disclaimer. Good, however, is not an adequate word to express this weekend, Mr. Stone."

  "Awesome?"

  "Close."

  "Stupendous?"

  "Closer."

  "Out of this world?"

  "Not actually a word."

  Alex rolls his eyes at me.

  I chuckle. "But it does sum it up perfectly."

  Alex sighs and brushes the hair from my eyes. "You've managed to spoil me in just one night. If I can't sleep because you're not in bed with me, it'll be all your fault."

  "You kidnapped me and held me captive on the high seas all night. I had no choice but to sleep with you."

  "Touché, Miss Tate." He leans in and kisses me.

  I slide my hand to the back of his head and hold him a little while longer. I really want this kiss—need this kiss—and I can't imagine not ever kissing him again.

  He rests his forehead on mine and closes his eyes.

  "I don't want the weekend to end," I whisper.

  "Neither do I."

  We're quiet, enjoying our last few minutes together. Is it possible Alex Stone actually has feelings for me?

  Car tires squeal out of the parking lot. I glance in the direction of the car, but I only catch the taillights. I recognize the car but dismiss the thought as ridiculous. Lots of people drive black BMWs—not just John.


  "I need to unload the boat and get it secured before I leave," Alex says with a sigh.

  "Do you need help?"

  He shakes his head. "No, I have staff to take care of most of it."

  "Oh, okay," I say jovially, but I'm disappointed. The weekend was a complete surprise, and it's harder than I thought to leave him.

  Alex leans in and kisses me again. "I'll call you later."

  "You'd better."

  The ride home is a blur. The potential of a relationship with Alex makes my heart soar, while my mind plunges into darkness.

  There is a side to Alex Stone that is endearing and romantic and seductive. But he has a reputation, and I'm not sure how much of what he has said and done this weekend is part of his playbook.

  Then, there's John. If he was the driver of the BMW and the one who slashed my tires, he knows that Alex and I spent the weekend together. There is no telling what he'll do.

  And that scares the hell out of me.

  Chapter Eight

  I step off the elevator on Monday morning and unsuccessfully stifle a yawn. The previous night and into the wee hours of the morning, Alex and I talked, laughed, flirted, and finally hung up. Recalling his silky, seductive voice is like a shot of adrenaline that might keep me awake for days.

  "Good morning," Sarah sings and secures her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk.

  "Good morning." I walk into my office and fall into my desk chair. Many more nights like last night, and I won't be able to make a coherent argument in court. But playing with Alex is too much fun to pass up.

  I open my email, and my heart races. A message from Alex.

  Hope you're having as wonderful a Monday morning as I am. I enjoyed falling asleep with you, even if it was over the phone. I missed you this morning when I woke.

  I hit reply and type a message.

  I miss you now.

  And send it on its way.

  Almost immediately, a response hits my inbox.

  I miss you more.

  I stare at the words on the screen and can't help but smile. Is this really happening? Could Alex Stone actually be as infatuated with me as I am with him? A girl could get used to this kind of attention.