by J. H. Croix
Like now. His dark gaze held mine before his eyes dropped down. He might as well have touched my nipples. They tightened and stood at attention, aching to be uncovered. I wanted to lick him all over and wanted the same in return.
I stared back at him. I kept waiting for that feeling to come, the one I knew so well, where I got anxious inside, so anxious that I could hardly breathe and my chest felt as if it was about to be crushed from the weight of my fear. With Alex, that feeling didn’t come. On nothing other than my gut and the knowledge that my dear friend’s fiancée trusted this man implicitly, I trusted Alex completely.
The air around us was heavy now, reverberating with the beat of our desire. I held Alex’s gaze as I closed the distance between us, stopping a whisper away from him. He tilted his head forward as I looked up.
“Harper, what are you…?”
“I want you,” I said, my words coming out raspy. I spoke the raw truth because, well because when it came to Alex, it seemed that’s all I had.
His eyes widened slightly. He stared at me, his gaze searching and darkening at once. I lifted a hand, because I couldn’t help it, and traced along the edge of his strong jaw. His jaw tightened under my touch. His gaze went from hot to scorching, all the while he didn’t say a word. My pulse had gone wild and I could hardly breathe. I traced down along his neck and over his chest, swallowing at the hard muscled planes under my palm. I wanted to feel his skin. So I did. I slipped my hand under his shirt and sighed at the feel of his skin—hot and smooth. His shirt bunched over my wrist as I pushed it up.
Alex suddenly moved, grabbing both of my hands fast in one of his large, strong hands. One easily held both of mine. My gaze had wandered down and slammed back into his. Dear God. If it was possible to get burned from a look, Alex’s gaze almost did it. My skin prickled with awareness, and hot liquid need throbbed between my legs. A reckless feeling pushed at me. I was afraid he was going to make me stop, and I couldn’t bear it. It felt so good to let something other than my cool intellect drive what was happening. It felt as if I was standing on the edge of a precipice, and I could either take control and fly into what was before me, or stay back, teetering on the edge and wondering what I might be missing.
In the grip of his hand, I fisted mine in his shirt and yanked him closer as I stepped flush against him.
“Harper.”
His voice was edged with warning.
Heedless, I leaned up, tugging him further down to meet me. He didn’t resist when he could’ve. He was stronger than me by a long shot. His lips were but a whisper away.
“What?” I asked.
Restless, I shifted my legs, feeling the moisture at the apex of my thighs when I did. His hot gaze held mine, searching and hungry at once. “What are you doing?” he bit out.
“I. Want. You.” My words came out raspy, but clear. Beyond feeling dizzy with need, I felt emboldened with Alex.
Shimmying one of my hands free from his grip, I slid it up around the nape of his neck. I could feel his heart pounding against the hand still held in his. His heart beat hard and fast, its rhythm solid and strong and imbuing me with more boldness. If I’d stopped to think right about now, I’d have lost it over what I was doing. But I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t want to. Well, it wasn’t that I wasn’t thinking at all—just that I was thinking only about one thing. Alex and more of the way I felt when I kissed him last week. It was such a relief not to feel controlled and cautious, that feeling alone was a bit of a rush. Throw in the most potent man I’d ever met, and I was on fire—inside and out.
After a heated moment, Alex leaned back incrementally. “Okay, but we’re taking it slow,” he said.
“Why?” I countered, almost annoyed at his high handedness.
His eyes darkened and one corner of his mouth curled up. “Because I don’t like to rush.”
A flash of uncertainty rose within. Before it had a chance to take over my thoughts, he closed the distance between us, fit his mouth over mine and promptly obliterated my senses. He freed my hand between us and slid his arms around me, lifting me high against him and turning to slide my hips on the counter. He gripped my bottom and pulled me flush against him, all the while kissing me fiercely—hot, wet, deep kisses. After the heated dive into our kiss, he drew back, his lips meandering in a slow path along the side of my neck where he nipped at my ear, sending shivers racing through me. A moan escaped, and I didn’t care, heedless of anything but getting more.
My hands slipped under his shirt and up his back. I’d never noticed a man’s back, but the feel of Alex’s was heaven—every single inch of his was honed muscle, flexing under my touch. While I mapped my way around to his chest, his lips made their way along my collarbone and his hands traced up my sides under my shirt, his touch light as a feather and driving me wild. I arched my hips into his, sighing at the feel of his cock, hot and hard through the denim against me. I wanted everything, all at once now. I leaned back to say something. He lifted his head and his eyes collided with mine, his gaze so hot I shuddered. He hooked his hand under the edge of my shirt and lifted it off in one swift motion. I heard it land on the tiled floor. The air whispered over my skin, the cool contrast to the heat inside sending a rush of goose bumps over its surface.
My breath came in shallow pants and my pulse skittered wildly. All he was doing was looking at me. That alone was so hot, my core throbbed and my hips arched reflexively against him, pleasure spiking through me. His eyes locked with mine, he trailed his fingers along the undersides of my breasts, my nipples tightening to the point of pain at the subtle touch.
I couldn’t take it, this slow, teasing madness. I needed to barrel through this before I started thinking. I reached between us and started to unbutton his jeans.
In a flash, his hands were gripping mine. “Not now,” he said, his words a gruff whisper.
“Why?” I asked, frustrated and impatient. I arched into him again and experienced a flash of satisfaction when his breath came out in a hiss.
“It’s not about me tonight. Just you,” he bit out.
My eyes swung back to his. I might not have had sex for four years, but I was no virgin. I’d dated here and there in college and was well aware most men had expectations, all of which involved them finding release somewhere in the course of whatever happened. I couldn’t quite compute what he meant.
“What do you mean?”
My pause seemed to have given him just enough time to gain control again, and his words came out calmer and more measured. “Just that. It’s all about you.”
I still couldn’t wrap my brain around what he meant. To be fair, I was caught in the tide of a lust so powerful, I could barely keep my head above water. With Alex’s nearly perfect body pressed against mine and his hot gaze locked to mine, I couldn’t think very well. At all. “I don’t understand,” I finally said.
“Let me show you,” he said after another few beats where I contemplated whether it was actually possible to have an orgasm without touch. My panties were soaked and my channel was clenching. Every subtle shift of his cock against me—through my jeans and his—was so hot, I was teetering on the verge of release.
He flicked his thumb under the clasp of my bra and dipped his head to swirl his tongue over a nipple. It felt so good, so damn good, I cried out and gripped his hair. I tumbled into a blur of need and sensation as he proceeded to drive me wild, licking, sucking and nipping at my nipples. Awash in sensation, my hips were rolling into him when he drew my zipper down and slipped a hand over to cup my mound. Restless, I arched into him, a moaning sigh escaping when he dragged a finger back and forth over the wet silk of my underwear.
He trailed kisses up between my breasts and along the side of my neck before lifting his head.
“Harper.”
At his gruff command, I dragged my eyes open and found his fiery gaze waiting.
I couldn’t speak, so I simply stared at him, almost crying out when he hooked a finger under the edge of my panties
and stroked through my folds. I was slick with need and teetering on the edge of a climax. My eyes started to fall closed.
“Look at me,” he said. Again, his words were soft and gruff, yet his expectation was clear.
It was hard to look at him. The moment was overwhelming in ways I could barely comprehend. I hadn’t been intimate in the slightest with anyone in four years. Before that…less than a half hour had wrecked my life, and I hadn’t known if I’d ever dare to even think about sex again. Alex had already given me the gift of thinking about sex, but in the short week since our kiss, I hadn’t know if I’d have the courage to go further. Yet, here we were. I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I felt so comfortable with him, so abandoned in the desire between us, the comfort itself frightened me in a way. I hadn’t expected this intimacy with him, this closeness where I wanted to lose myself in every moment with him.
“I want to see you come,” he said.
His words hit me right in the heart. Just as he spoke, his slid a finger into my channel, knuckle deep. My climax rolled through me slowly, unraveling in spirals of pleasure and wracking me with shudders. Another finger joined the first—stroking in and out of my channel. It didn’t take much—too long without letting go and in the grip of the fiercest desire I’d ever felt, I let go. Held in his dark gaze, the unraveling sped until I cried out, a sharp jolt of pleasure rocking me. My channel throbbed around his fingers. My head fell forward, thumping against his chest, as I tried to catch my breath.
I couldn’t hear anything above the pounding of my heart for several moments. As my pulse finally slowed and my breathing returned to normal, actual thought entered my brain. What had I just done?
Um. Pretty obvious. You just had the best orgasm of your life at the hands of Alex Gordon, super sexy soccer star.
My snide side pointed out the incredibly obvious circumstances. Okay, when I’d been feeling bold and reckless, I wanted this. Actually, I wanted a lot more. Now, I felt exposed and vulnerable. I swallowed against the anxiety and uncertainty building inside and forced myself to focus on how I felt if I wasn’t letting my brain churn. I felt…good. Really good. Alex had slid his hand out of my jeans and zipped them up sometime in the last few minutes. His head was bowed into the curve of my neck, and he was quiet. I could feel his cock—hard and hot—against me and wondered if he really meant it—that this time was only about me. I lifted my head and reached between us to drag my hand over his shaft. His head whipped up, his eyes locking to mine immediately.
“Harper.”
The warning was there in his tone again.
I couldn’t help it. He made me want to tease, so I cupped his cock through the denim and stroked up and down. His breath came out in a hiss, and he stepped back swiftly. Before I had a chance to speak, he erased the distance he’d just created between us, reaching up to hook my bra again. In a matter of seconds, he’d snagged my shirt off the floor and handed it to me. I was shaken enough—not the bad kind of shaken—that I simply put it on, wondering why he was holding back in seeking his own release when it was plainly obvious he was turned on.
He stood before me, his chiseled features tense. “Did you still want some tea?” he finally asked.
“I want to know why you’re holding back.” I was genuinely curious.
He was quiet for a few beats before he said, “Like I said, I don’t like to rush.”
I stared at him, so many questions tumbling through my thoughts I couldn’t settle on any single one to ask.
“Don’t go thinking this is a one-time thing. Trust me.”
I did. Trust him, that is. Completely. He couldn’t know how much that meant. The absolute confidence I had in my trust for him shook me for reasons I didn’t dare to contemplate right now.
“Okay,” I finally replied, battling with my internal disquiet.
I shimmied off the counter and straightened my clothes. “How about I take a rain check on that tea? I should probably get home.”
“I’ll walk you.”
I almost automatically told him he didn’t need to walk me home. Then, I realized I wanted him to. Badly. For reasons that had nothing to do with old nightmares and the man behind them. The man I’d seen before I came into Alex’s apartment and whom I’d completely forgotten in the intervening time.
Alex walked me home, all the way up the stairs to my door. He waited until I was inside and then kissed me again. One kiss. One sweep of his tongue against mine. That’s it, and I almost collapsed against the door after he left.
Chapter Five
Alex
“Mate, you need to loosen up,” Ethan said with a wink before he snagged a water bottle on the bench beside him and guzzled it.
I resisted the urge to glare at him and rolled my eyes instead. “And why is that?” I countered.
Ethan almost drained the water bottle before lowering it and glancing to me, swiping his sleeve across his face. We were at practice during a break for the defensive end while Coach worked with the offense. Ethan held my gaze for a moment before looking down as he idly swung the water bottle in a circle between his knees. “Ever since we lost last week, you’ve been damn serious. You’re scaring the guys who don’t know you as well.”
I’d signed with the Seattle Stars along with three players from England—Liam, Ethan and Tristan. Tristan played offense alongside Liam, while Ethan played defense with me. We’d been here over a year now, but it was true that my mates from London knew me better. “Scaring them?” I asked in return.
“Yup. On your best days, you’re quiet. I told the lads I didn’t think you were too torn up over us losing. I’ve played with you before, so I know you know it comes with the game. I didn’t tell ‘em what I really think,” he said with a sly grin.
I did glare at him now. “And what would that be?”
“Mate, you were all eyes for Harper the other night. I’ve never seen you look at a girl like that,” he said, his grin stretching wider.
I couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled from my chest. “And that has what to do with me looking too serious?”
Ethan, in typical low-key, teasing manner, winked. “She’s got you all tied up. I’ve known you for years, mate. You hardly ever date. Oh, I know you had your arrangements back in London, but they were more like business than romance. The way you looked at Harper—that was something else. If you ask me, you need to have some fun. She might help you relax.”
I stared at him and felt my jaw tightening. Damn if Ethan hadn’t somehow zeroed in on exactly what was getting to me. I was beyond tied up in knots after the other night. I’d managed to walk Harper home and see her in without tearing her clothes off and sinking inside of her right there in the hallway outside her apartment, but my self-imposed control had come at a price. I’d been damn cranky ever since. I wasn’t about to admit any of this to Ethan though. Not here and certainly not now.
Instead, I shrugged. “Maybe I like her. Otherwise, how about you lay off the amateur psychoanalysis?”
Ethan winked again and guzzled the last of the water, tossing the empty bottle into a recycling bin at the end of the bench. “Will do, mate.” He stood and started to walk away before pausing to turn back. “Not that you’re asking, but she’s got it bad for you too.”
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, electing not to respond to Ethan’s baiting. This was nothing new from him. Ethan wasn’t one of those guys who drove me nuts with the way they treated women as another sport. Rather, he was a flirt who took flirting to great heights. He eschewed commitment and loved to tease. Now that Liam was engaged to Olivia, Ethan enjoyed teasing him about how quickly Liam had fallen. Liam was so far gone, he didn’t even care.
My mind spun to Harper—reserved Harper who’d gone and blown my mind with her boldness the other night. I’d wanted to see behind to the other side of the invisible walls protecting her, and I had. When her gorgeous blue eyes held mine right as she started to come, her channel pulsing around my fingers…holy hell, I’d almost come in
my jeans. Her quiet, controlled demeanor hid a woman of fierce passion.
Somehow I knew I still hadn’t seen all of the layers fall away yet. I’d meant what I said when I told her I didn’t want to rush. I never did, but there was more than that with her. I wanted more than a mutual exchange of pleasure with her. My mind flicked back to when we’d been standing out in the rain and that car pulled up to the stoplight. It hadn’t been quite like when we’d been in the park and she’d almost frozen in place. But something flickered in her eyes. Then, she blew my mind and pushed me to the very edge of my control.
Cold showers and the mechanical release I could give myself didn’t assuage the need burning inside for her. Coach called my name, effectively snapping me out of my train of thought. As I walked back onto the pitch, I pondered when I’d see her again. She and Stanley had joined me for my morning run for the last two days, but she didn’t speak of what passed between us the other night. Nor did I. I wouldn’t wait much longer though. If anything, because I didn’t know if I could.
“What do you think, Alex? Blue or green?” Liam asked, holding up a stationary card.
“Come again?” I countered, puzzled at his question.
Olivia had just walked by the kitchen table where I was sitting across from Liam and fanned a series of cards in front of him on the table. She hadn’t said a word and kept on into the kitchen where she poured a glass of wine for herself and called over to us. “More beer, boys?”
Before I had a chance to reply to her, Liam did. “Two please,” he called over his shoulder, his gaze swinging back to me. He lowered his voice. “Just tell me, blue or green. These are our wedding invitations and she wants me to help pick the color.”
I chuckled and reached across the table, sliding the cards closer to me. They each had sample text in different fonts and two colors. “Blue. Definitely blue.” Instantly Harper’s gorgeous eyes came to mind. I’d almost taken her against a tree this morning. That’s how bad it was getting. She was meeting me every morning, yet those walls had gone back up, stronger than ever. I shoved my thoughts off of her and onto the topic of Liam and Olivia’s wedding invitations. “Think you’re supposed to pick the font too, mate.”