He laughed against her throat, the sound dark, smug. Sinful.
“Is this what you want?” she said, grouchy with frustration. “I’m in knots.”
“It’s exactly what I want,” he said. “Payback.”
“Later, I’ll vacuum your truck. I’ll pick up each piece of confetti with tweezers. Now just hurry it along.” His erection brushed her hip and she undulated, trying to get in her own caress.
His breath hissed in and she did it again. “Bad Alexa.” He shifted to meet her mouth once more and her fingers found his cock. They wrapped it in a firm grip, her own kind of restraint. Bing groaned into the kiss.
Then he was sliding his lips down her throat, laying a stinging kiss to her tender skin before reaching her breasts. All the foreplay had caused them to swell. Ache. She made a low sound in her throat when he plumped one in his hand. As he sucked the tip in strong, luscious pulls, she arched into the pain-edged pleasure. The thumb of his other hand brushed the second nipple, playing with it roughly until he gave it the same attention with his mouth.
She was quaking, her legs shaking in their leather bindings. But she froze when he slid lower, until his face was inches away from the hot and wet part of her that was spread wide for his gaze, his touch, his cock.
“Please.”
One fingertip followed the groove of her body there. She bucked up, but it was a shallow touch, and when she moaned again, he let go another of those dirty laughs. “Maybe I need to insist you be quiet again.”
“No,” she said, certain she’d fail. “Don’t.”
He lifted his head, mischief in his eyes. “‘No’? ‘Don’t’?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, breathless. “Um, please. Yes. Carry on.”
Then he dipped his head once again and she lost her mind. Completely. Lost. Her. Mind. His tongue could be soft and flat or hard and pointed. It could bathe her softly, lap at her with devotion, lash her clit with quick strokes. Then it dove inside, and he held her still as he did it, his palms hot and implacable on her inner thighs.
When she thought she couldn’t take any more, he slid upward, caught her clit between his teeth, and shoved two fingers into her. She shook, spasmed, quaked. Came long and hard. He strung it out, easing her down with soft sucks and slow strokes of her inner channel as the aftershocks came and went, came and went.
She was boneless when he moved to her side and spoke in her ear, the contrast of his damp mouth and his prickly evening whiskers igniting another rush of goose bumps to chase themselves over her skin. “You are beautiful. Desirable. Never doubt that. Never think I won’t remember that."
Her mind was so muzzy it took a few minutes for the words to sink in. She struggled against the cuffs as he moved. “No, Bing—”
“Shh,” he said. “We’re not done here.”
Not done here yet, he meant. She watched him roll a condom onto his cock and the sight arrested her a moment, as that memory of him touching himself in the shower came back to her again. He’d given her that and self-confidence and passion and sex toys. So many things. “Oh, Bing,” she murmured. Her fingers flexed, desperate. “Let me touch you.”
He shook his head. “You put yourself in my hands.”
Cuffs, he meant.
And then he was on top of her again, stringing out kisses and caresses until she was squirming under him once more, lifting into his body, trying to entice him into hers. He pulled back onto his knees, took himself in hand, and brought his cock to her entrance. His gaze on where they joined, he pushed inside slowly, stealing her breath with each centimeter.
A flush of arousal edged his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. She willed her body to relax, welcoming the heavy intrusion even as he filled her full, too full. “Oh, God,” she whispered.
He pulled halfway out. “All right?” he asked, his glance burning.
“All right,” she whispered.
Then he began advancing again, his gaze still trained on her face. “You feel so good. Wet. So hot.”
She pulled at the restraints. “Let me touch you,” she asked again. “Please let me touch you.”
His face took on a stubborn cast, but then it softened. “Why can’t I ever say no to you?” he murmured.
Sweet relief and even sweeter hope rushed through her as he reached down and unhooked her wrists. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wound his hips. Her ankles pulled him deep.
He groaned. “Okay, good idea.”
The best idea, she thought. They were face-to-face, heart-to-heart. The rhythm turned liquid and languid, the two of them rocking together. She slid her fingers through his hair and confetti showered, landing on their damp skin. Wishes, she thought. More wishes.
His hips moved with hers, his body grinding against her softness and against her clit. She was on fire for him, but it wasn’t just sex, it was Bing, those blue eyes of his that were the sky in which she could fly. “I need to tell you something,” she said, suddenly sure, even though her voice was breathless. This was the moment, when they were joined, when they both were poised on the edge of so much pleasure.
He buried his face in her neck, murmured a refusal.
“Please,” she whispered. “Look at me.”
His head came up, his eyes wary. “No, Lex.” His body was deep inside hers, but he didn’t move.
She squeezed on his shaft with her inner muscles, trying to reassure him. “Bing—”
“No, Lex.” He reached over the side of the bed and she heard the rattle of paper. The bag.
Then he rolled them to their sides, their bodies still connected. Something from the store was in his hands. “You need to be quiet,” he said. “Like our game the other time. Silent.”
Dangling between them was a gag. In the middle of a wide elastic band was a red orb. It smelled like cherry. “A candy gag?” She’d laugh if he didn’t look so desperate. Almost panicked.
“You can’t say a word.”
Not those words, was what he meant. She wondered, suddenly, if anyone had ever said them to him. Her chest ached. “Oh, Bing.” Closing her fingers around the elastic, she yanked it from his hand and tossed it away.
“No, Lex. I’m serious. No.”
“Yes.” She used her strength to roll them. Now she was on top. His hands came to her hips. She slid down on him, lifted up, slid down again. Groaning, he closed his eyes.
“I love you,” she said, rising again, then falling once more. “I’m in love with you.”
His fingers squeezed on her flesh. “No,” he said, though he thrust into her next movement.
She rode him until he was clutching at her with hard hands. He shoved up, harder and deeper than before, and while holding there, his fingers found her clit. Alexa’s back bowed and she squirmed, crying out as he mastered her body once again, making her come. He followed her over on a long, low groan.
When he pulled her down to his damp chest, she felt his mouth on her hair. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I didn’t hear it. You didn’t say it.”
Her heart stopped. Then she placed a kiss over his. “You’ll never forget me. You’ll never forget what I said.” Last wishes.
But when he instantly rolled off the bed, she knew that even if they came true, it didn’t mean she’d get what she desired most.
Chapter Fifteen
Bing waited for Alexa with the same sort of anticipation he supposed she’d felt after pulling her own pranks. He was dressed for her cousin’s wedding, in a dark suit, white shirt, and striped tie. Glancing at the clock, he hoped she’d show up soon. They didn’t have a lot of time.
Not a lot of time until the wedding ceremony began.
Not a lot of time to be together.
After today, he intended avoiding her for the rest of his natural life.
His brother, stretched out on Bing’s couch, looked up from the paper he was reading. “Won’t be able to get as much as you want for the house if you wear out the floor with your pacing.”
&nbs
p; That was how he intended avoiding her for the rest of his natural life. He was going to put his house up for sale. The realtor who represented the beach property had already been goosed. He’d find some ugly apartment to live in until he could get his hands on that land and then build his house.
The ugly apartment would fit his mood.
“Don’t tell her you got the key to her place from me,” Brody said.
“You can lie to her yourself.”
His twin jackknifed to sitting position. “I’m thinking I’ll take off.”
“You can’t.” He cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the panic in his voice. Avoiding being alone with her was another part of his plan to get through the rest of the day. “If you’re not here, she might hit me.” But he deserved that, and more, for toying with her. He’d played with her, knowing the risk. It could turn serious. It had.
“She’s fucking fallen in love with me,” he told his brother.
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean, ‘yeah’?”
“You’re a damn good-looking man,” Brody said, grinning.
“Hah hah.” Bing took another turn around the room. “What am I going to do? How am I going to fix this?”
“Just like you’ve planned. Walk away. She’ll forget you.”
You’ll never forget me. You’ll never forget what I said.
The loud knock on his door made him jump. Shit. Like the snake he was, he felt like he was about to shed his skin.
“I’ll get it,” Brody said, and he pulled open the door, exiting as Alexa entered.
“Hey!” he called out to his twin, but then the woman-next-door was all up in his face.
She was dressed in a short cotton robe and flip flops. Her hair was wet. And gold glitter was everywhere—on the top of her head, on her toes, on the inches of skin he could see below the hem of the robe and between its lapels. “How could you!”
“It took a ladder. Some careful placement of the sparkly stuff on the blades of the ceiling fan in your room. A hope that you’d turn it on after your shower.” He’d watched her do that the morning of the doll-incident, after they’d worked through the list she’d penned on the tile.
You’ll never forget me.
She shook her head, and glittering pieces fell on the rug at her feet. “Now I’m running late. I hope this stuff will wash off easily. I’ve got to get to the church for hair and make-up.”
“You’d better hurry. We’re taking your Zia Olga with us to the church.”
“What?”
“I asked your mom if I could do that…pick up anyone who needed a ride. I’ve got the keys to Brody’s sedan.” The elderly woman would serve as a buffer between him and Alexa. Something else to focus upon besides the countdown to the hour when they’d never be together again.
“Fine.” With a huff, she stomped toward the front door, then paused. As she turned, she grasped a handful of her hair, and shook it to cause another glitter shower. “You know, on today of all days, this was just mean.”
How she should remember him. Because then wouldn’t it make him easier to forget? But his intention had been something else entirely. He wouldn’t tell her, he decided. Let her think the worst.
She was halfway out his door and his chest was hurting like hell when he gave in and called her name.
Alexa glanced over her shoulder. There was even glitter on her eyelashes. “Today was the day I had to do it,” he confessed.
Her big brown eyes on him, she waited.
“A message,” he said. The one he wanted to leave her with. “You don’t need any man to make you shine.”
*
As far as Bing could tell, the wedding ceremony went fine. Being his first, he didn’t have another to compare it to. Each bridesmaid wore a different-colored dress, but the one in the greeny-yellow dress was the most beautiful. The strapless garment fit her curves like it was made for her—it was, of course—and ended just above the knee with a separate piece of see-through, pleated fabric that looked similar to what was at the bottom of her cousin’s floor-length wedding dress.
There were no weird hat-things. Huh.
The women had fresh flowers in their hair, gardenias and pink roses.
Alexa took a limo with the rest of the wedding party from the church to the country club where the reception was being held. Bing escorted ancient-looking Zia Olga.
He didn’t think she spoke English. He didn’t speak Italian.
Female appreciation was a universal language, though. The old gal gave him a healthy pinch on his ass and a grin when he seated her with a family group.
Jesus. A laugh crawled up his throat and he glanced around, looking for Alexa. She’d get a kick out of the story.
No. He was keeping clear of Alexa.
Now and forever.
He wandered to the bar, taking in the happy, boisterous crowd as he waited to order a drink. Voices were bright, laughter was loud, hugs and kisses were being exchanged all over the place. This was Lex’s background, the foundation that shored her up. Good food, good family, good times.
Not naked parties in the pool. Bowls full of drugs. Fathers who insisted on calling a lawyer before calling the police when a young woman was found dead in the hallway.
“Bing.” A hand clapped his shoulder. “Good to see you again.”
He glanced over and recognized Ruben Scott, one of the groomsmen. His tux jacket was gone as well as his tie. His shirt collar was unbuttoned and askew. A memory shifted to the forefront of his mind. That face. Longer hair. A cigarette and a beer. They were playing…
“Poker,” Bing said.
Ruben smiled. “Strip. With those two girls in your dad’s ‘Pick Me’ video.”
They’d made their way to the front of the bar line. Bing asked for a beer. Ruben wanted top shelf vodka. A double, straight up.
Apparently his party days weren’t over.
Since it was the kind of company he used to keep, Bing didn’t immediately move off. Too much temptation to hang with the bridesmaid who was helping one of the innumerable little Alessio cousins clean his hands made sticky from the appetizers being distributed by white-coated servers.
“That was too bad about Lynn O’Shea,” Ruben said, snatching a fried ravioli from a passing waiter.
As always, thoughts of her made Bing’s gut grind in guilt. “You knew Lynn?”
“Went to high school with her,” the other man said around his bite of food. “Went to high school with you and your brother.”
Bing’s memory banks didn’t cough up anything about that.
“That Oxy…vile stuff,” Ruben continued.
Maybe he’d cleaned up a little too, then. “Yeah. Vile.” Bing watched Alexa retrieve a shawl that had dropped to the floor to re-hang it over the back of a chair.
“I told her and told her not to touch that shit.”
“What?” Bing’s gaze shot to the other man. “You were there that night? You saw what happened?” Nobody had ever come forward about seeing her use at the party.
Ruben washed down his food with a healthy swallow of his vodka. “Nah, but—” He glanced at Bing, stepped back. “Jesus, what’s with that look?”
“Just tell me about that night.”
“Like I said, I wasn’t there. But she’d been using that shit for months. Got it from her dad’s stash. Her old man had chronic back problems.”
Bing stared at him. “Her old man’s stash.” Not his old man’s. “She’d been using for months.” That night hadn’t been her first rodeo. He pinched his nose between two fingers.
Then Alexa was there. He stared at her stupidly. “Time to sit down for dinner,” she said, and tugged him toward a long table.
The food was likely fantastic. But he didn’t notice because he was processing what Ruben had said, picking at the past like a thorn in his thumb. Alexa didn’t pay him any attention. She was half-turned away from him practically the entire meal. He replayed the new information he’d learned while stari
ng at the gardenias and roses tucked into the knot of hair at the back of her head.
The skin at the nape of her neck looked as tender and lovely as that on the inside of her thighs.
He dropped his gaze, because he’d dirty it just by looking. Ruben’s revelation about Lynn’s drug use changed shit. That she’d been taking drugs before that night didn’t mean he couldn’t have prevented her from taking too many on that night. That she’d had her own access to Oxy didn’t mean she hadn’t been handed some by one of the other guests there to party with the Velvet Lemons.
It didn’t absolve him of anything, and somehow it just dug the thorn deeper.
Later, he found the doors leading to a dimly lit terrace that overlooked the golf course, empty of golfers, of course, since it was long past dark. Leaning on the wrought iron railing, he could hear the dance music but couldn’t see the dancers. Alexa hadn’t sat down once so far, partnering her old uncles and her young cousins, girls and boys. Once, she’d circled close, near enough that Bing saw the light catch a particle of glitter on her throat and another on her shoulder.
You don’t need any man to make you shine.
She didn’t need him, not when she was whirling in the bosom of her family.
That he was beginning to think he needed her to breathe, didn’t matter a flying fuck. The only foundation holding him up was pock-marked with drugs, meaningless sex, death. With that beneath his feet, how would he know how to conduct a relationship let alone make it successful? Nobody in his formative years had been any kind of example.
Ren and Cilla were making a run for it, though. The odds of them—shit. He wasn’t going to calculate the likelihood that they would make it without ending in a horrible crash and burn. Instead, he’d hope for them.
Too bad there wasn’t more of the stuff to go around.
A woman’s perfume was suddenly in the air. He started, glancing around to see the bride had sneaked up behind him. She was barefoot and fanned herself with her hand. “Nice place to take a break. It’s hot in there.”
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