by Iris Parker
“Jessie?” he called, slowly drawing me back out of my own head. “What’s going on?”
His fingers stroked my cheek gently, and I rested my head against his hand. With his other arm still wrapped around my body, he pulled me in closer, nestling me into the warmth of his chest.
“Sorry, I—”
“It’s okay. I understand,” Alton said, and I wished I could hate him for that.
No, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand, I’d made sure of that.
Even as he’d turned out to be a nice, genuine guy.
But he wasn’t, not really. He was putting on a mask of kindness so he could seduce me, but deep down he was heartless and impossibly cruel. It was all a fraud, and I just needed to remind myself of that. Alton’s earlier inaction had robbed me of my last hope, driving me to the edge of despair and beyond.
He was playing me, and so I was playing him. I just needed a second. And to not face a mirror and see the guilty look I knew was etched into my face.
And in my heart.
“Have you tried the spa?”
“The spa?” I asked, dumbfounded by the question. “Yes, earlier today. We did it together. Don’t you remember?”
How could he have forgotten? It’d been the highlight of our day.
Or maybe that had been the amazing breakfast. Or the fantastic lunch, or the romantic dinner. Or all the fun I’d had playing slot machines before being dragged away to the blackjack table, with Alton very patiently explaining every tip and strategy he knew.
Okay, so it had been a busy day with a lot of highlights.
But I still didn’t know how he could’ve forgotten so soon.
“The spa in the bathroom, silly,” he said with a wink as he rubbed my back, drawing large and comforting circles into tired muscles.
Oh, I thought, shaking my head with embarrassment.
“Come check it out,” he said with a glorious smile, his face lit up in excitement. Grabbing me by the wrist, Alton pulled me in the direction of the bathroom suite as he explained how much I was going to enjoy it.
I felt dizzy and disoriented, but content to follow his lead.
In the bathroom was a large, floor-to-ceiling window that looked down on the rest of the city, the other buildings dwarfed by the tall hotel. Atlantic City was illuminated by thousands of lights, and my breath caught at the breathtaking beauty of it all.
Next to the window was a large jacuzzi, angled perfectly so one could enjoy the view while safely ensconced within the tub.
“Maybe this will help you relax and stop worrying for a little while,” Alton said matter-of-factly. I swallowed hard, reeling from the realization that I’d not only been so easy to read but that Alton had actually cared enough to do so.
And that he’d stopped the foreplay just to try to help.
Dammit.
“I’m not worried,” I lied, hating the sound of my own voice.
“Right,” he answered, and his knowing smirk said everything that his words did not. “So, what do you say? How about we give it a whirl?”
“I’m really fine,” I answered lamely, not sure of what else to say.
“Is that a no?”
“It’s not,” I conceded with a fragile smile, hoping that the reinvigorating waters would wash away my guilt for the rest of the night. Alton turned on the jacuzzi with a smug, satisfied grin. Hot water cascaded into the tub, sending plumes of steam into the air and quickly filling the room with a foggy mist.
I approached Alton with shaky legs, lifting my head to meet his gaze. He towered above me, his frame so tall and imposing that I felt dwarfed. Even though I was wearing five-inch pumps, the man seemed like a giant next to me.
His fingers landed on my shoulders, sliding back down to my back as he spun me around slowly. Supporting me with one arm as he leaned in, he planted a small kiss on the back of my neck.
Everything about the moment was electrifying, sending tingles along my skin as the hair stood straight up.
“Too tempting,” he offered as a quick excuse, even though his tone was anything but apologetic. He gave another kiss, trailing his way up my neck and onto my cheeks. It felt delicious, so much that I didn’t even notice when his fingers found the hidden zipper in the back of my dress.
All I knew was that the sleek, strapless number was suddenly sliding down my body, as if the heat of the moment had caused my clothes to fall off of their own will. Caught up as I was in the moment, it seemed almost plausible.
In the blink of an eye I was almost naked, wearing nothing but the flimsy, frilly black lingerie I’d bought just for this occasion. I trembled, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than I had in a very long time. The passion in Alton’s eyes was clear, and the hunger in them was contagious.
His breath was hot against my skin, heat filling the room.
A heat that had nothing to do with the jacuzzi.
Alton’s fingers climbed back up my body, hooking just beneath the strap of my bra. The steam did nothing to alleviate the lump in my throat, half desire and half terror, making me breathe in ragged gasps.
Far behind us, someone knocked on the door. Alton winced, shaking his head.
“Calling room service wasn’t my brightest idea,” he whispered in my ear. “Give me five minutes. Don’t you go anywhere.”
“I won’t,” I promised, my heart thumping wildly.
It was going to be the longest five minutes of my life.
Jessie
Alton left, and I took a deep breath to regain my composure. My body was once again trembling, but this time it was neither with fear nor guilt. In their place I could feel desire beginning to blossom, an aching need that was far stronger than any I’d felt in at least a decade.
Over a decade, if I were to be honest with myself. When Alton touched me, I melted into putty beneath his fingers, my skin crying out for more.
With unsteady hands I removed my underwear as fast as I could, entering the tub with a deep sigh of relief. The heat of the water matched the heat within my body, decadent and carnal.
I waited in anticipation, willing Alton to come back soon. When a knock finally resonated against the bathroom door, I was ready for his return. The door slid open and Alton walked back in, a chilled bottle of white wine in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other. He scanned the room for me, taking a moment to find me in the tub.
When he did, he froze on the spot, his lips parted slightly and his eyes wide.
“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious as hell. Even in the deep water of the jacuzzi, I still felt completely exposed to Alton's prying eyes.
“You,” he said cryptically, his voice raspy. He licked his lips, like a hungry wolf about to pounce. “You look even more gorgeous than I imagined.”
“You imagined me naked?” I asked, and the question sounded naïve even to me.
“Only since the first moment I saw you,” he said quietly. “And lasting until now.”
If my skin hadn’t already been red from the hot water, that would’ve done the trick.
“Where—uh, where are the bubbles?” I asked, unsure how to reply. “I couldn’t find the bubble button.”
“Bubble button?” he asked, confused.
“Jacuzzis are supposed to have bubbles, right?”
“Good point,” he said, placing the wine and glasses on a raised shelf by the tub. He knelt down near me and looked carefully at the control panel.
Or at least he tried to look carefully at the control panel. It wasn’t long before his attention shifted back to me, and his eyes locked onto mine as he worked the controls slowly. The intensity of his stare seemed to knock the very wind from my chest, and made my entire body throb with an unmet desire for more.
“There. Whirlpool,” he said after a moment, sounding both pleased that he’d found it and sulky that he was going to have to use it. “This is going to ruin the best view in the whole damn city, you know.”
“But the window already fogged up
,” I said, wincing as I realized a moment too late what he’d actually meant.
“I know.” Alton pressed the button, and a whole world of bubbles and whirlpools seemed to start up all around me.
“Oooh,” I cooed, excitement bubbling up inside me as well. Feeling a little less exposed and vulgar, I let my arms drift further away from my chest.
Alton’s earlier smile came back in full force, all traces of sulkiness now gone. With a firm nod, he opened the wine and poured two glasses. To my surprise, it was sparkling, and had a slight tinge of pink to it.
“Muscat,” he explained when he saw my arched eyebrow, not that it helped. He could’ve been speaking Dothraki for all I knew; I was a total novice when it came to wine.
“What's that?”
“Sparkling, sweet wine,” he explained. “Initially, I'd gotten a dry white—an Alsatian Gewürztraminer, but then I realized maybe you needed a tub of ice cream,” he winked. “So I traded the wine for something sweeter, and asked for an extra large tub of vanilla ice cream. If I’d had any say in this, it would’ve been coconut instead, but that might be a tough sell?”
“Cookie dough all the way,” I said with a laugh and an eye roll. He stuck his tongue out, and I loved how boyish he looked. It helped me relax further, my self-consciousness fading in the silliness of the moment.
Not to mention that, out of nowhere, he’d imagined that ice cream would do me good.
Not that he was wrong, I thought as he hurried back out of the bathroom to fetch it. He returned triumphantly, placing the dessert on the same ledge by the jacuzzi. It looked homemade, and I wondered if they actually made ice cream in the hotel kitchens.
“But regardless of the flavor, this looks fantastic. Thank you so much,” I said.
“You're welcome,” he answered. “That’s what women do anyways, isn't it? I don't have much experience tending to that, but this seems like the go-to solution.”
“Tending to that? Go-to solution?” I asked, confused.
Alton shrugged sheepishly. “I mean, today has been so amazing. And then you looked more stressed, somehow. So I just thought that maybe you were—uh—well, you know. Were having problems. The kind that get solved with ice cream.”
I almost wanted to blurt out laughing, and probably would have if it hadn't been such a mess in my head. It was adorable that such a manly man was taking care of me with ice cream, but the guilt was once again rearing its ugly head.
Particularly since my hormonal cycle somehow had just become the topic of choice.
“I don't get PMS, but thank you for the ice cream—I'm sure it'll work wonders.”
“No PMS? Is that a thing?”
“Yeah—a couple of pill manufacturers work wonders in that area,” I said, feeling myself blanch with shame at the blatant lie. I looked at Alton and saw his lips move, but I made every effort to plaster a smile on my face and block out the noise.
Up until that point, I hadn’t technically lied about anything. But now I had, the first lie of many yet still to come. Not only was I not on the pill, but I knew exactly where I was in my cycle.
Right when I shouldn’t be naked in front of a man.
Alton stopped talking and placed his now-empty glass on the corner of the tub. With more hungry stares he began to undress, and just like that the dread in my heart was gone. Replaced with a tingle that took over my entire body, an animal instinct that knew what it wanted and didn’t care about any of the details.
Alton lifted his shirt over his head the way men do, dragging it up in one smooth motion. Immediately my eyes were drawn to his chest, and I couldn’t break away. I’d gotten a few glimpses of it earlier in the pool, but I’d been too tense to look for more than a few seconds at a time.
But he’d been staring at me since he came in the suite's bathroom, and I felt free to do the same.
So I did.
And it was even sweeter than the ice cream.
His chest was magnificent. Like a work of art chiseled by a master, he was all sinew and hard muscle. A smattering of hair peppered his pecs, coarse and unmistakably masculine. I swallowed hard, unable to think about anything but my desire to reach out and touch it.
Soon.
“Like what you see?” Alton asked, and I broke away just long enough to see his face. He looked confident to the point of arrogance, smug and satisfied.
That’s his true face, I reminded myself. The real Alton Greene was an insatiable, unrepentant womanizer, and why bother continuing the nice guy charade now? Sex was guaranteed at this point, just another conquest for a man who only cared about one thing.
So no, I didn’t need to feel bad. It was exactly like I’d told myself all along, he was using me just as much as I was using him. And even if he only cared about his cock, hell, there was no denying that it was an amazing cock. I could tell that much already, even before he finished getting undressed.
“Yes,” I answered with admiration. It was a nice body, no matter how I felt about the man himself. “You look like a statue.”
“More Rodin than Botero, I hope.” His laugh was still boyish, but his words rattled my newfound determination.
“I wasn't expecting you to know much about sculpture,” I admitted.
“Nobody ever does,” Alton agreed. “But I took a concentration in art at college.”
“What was your major?”
“Business,” he said as he unbuttoned and dropped his pants on the floor, the muscles on his shoulders rolling under his skin. Once again his body was perfect, his long legs thick and muscular from a life of constantly honing himself.
I tried to not gawk, and I was still thinking of something to say when he spoke again.
“I always figured it might come in handy at one point. Particularly as a pro athlete, it’s useful to know your way around numbers and marketing and all that stuff.”
“You took classes in marketing?” I asked, confused. “How is that useful for playing hockey?”
“You think people only care about hockey because of watching people play with sticks?” Alton shrugged. “The truth is, we sell ourselves and our craft. Every day. A lot of people don’t realize, but it’s true. Michael Jordan became a billionaire more than ten years after he retired, you know. He certainly knew what he was doing.”
“Oh,” I said, the nerdy and intellectual part of me fascinated by Alton’s sudden and unexpected display of savvy self-awareness. The rest of me, though, was way too focused on the way he’d just started to slide his boxer shorts down his hips.
He undressed slowly, first giving me a glimpse of the manly hair just above his crotch. I stared, breathless as more and more of his skin revealed itself to me. His briefs encountered resistance when the band ran into the large, obvious lump at his groin, and then finally fell away freely once they passed that bump.
And his crotch was positioned perfectly, exactly at eye level as he stood over the tub. Large didn’t begin to do it justice, but my brain was short-circuiting and my vocabulary had suddenly vanished.
Meanwhile Alton continued to talk about his career plans, strategies for what to do after retiring. The juxtaposition was completely surreal, and I wondered what had changed so suddenly. He was talking freely now, and about things I never would’ve imagined he’d care about.
Now fully naked, Alton stepped into the hot tub with a sigh of relief and slowly came closer to me. I braced myself for the first move he was bound to make, to grab me or straddle me or something else. But nothing like that came. Instead, he just slid right next to me and extended his arm over my head. I turned, watching him maneuver the empty glasses to refill them with the sparkling wine that had tasted so good. Looking back in the other direction I saw his face, the stubble on his cheeks that extended beyond his strong jawline and down to his neck.
Then he reached for the tub of vanilla ice cream, and before I knew it, I was nestled in his arms.
"There," he said with a crooked smile I could only get a glimpse of as he pushed a sp
oonful of ice cream close to my lips. I’d assumed he would want sex immediately, but instead he seemed content to feed me sugary, cold goodness that contrasted so beautifully with the sweet wine and hot water. His muscular torso was against my back, and his strong, powerful legs surrounded me on both sides.
We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, his arms stretched around me as he caressed every inch of my shoulders and arms, sending shiver after shiver throughout my body. I slowly let my guard down, just going with the flow. We talked for a long time, about career and family both. While I told him that my mother had always been my rock, Alton admitted that his own upbringing had been nothing short of brutal.
I was glad that he’d managed to find his way in spite of all that, leading a successful—if somewhat immoral—life that he’d probably never even dreamed he could have.
“Is this heaven or what?” I asked after a while, using my chin to point at the window. Most of the fog had cleared by that point, leaving us with an absolutely gorgeous view of downtown Atlantic City at night.
“Close enough,” he said, his voice hoarse. "But not quite yet."
The time had finally come, I realized, and the ache in my body returned with full force. I trembled in his arms, but his lips brushed my shoulder and trailed their way to my neck with so much tenderness that I couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper. The wine helped, as did the warmth of the night. The last traces of doubt washed away as I lost myself to him, and I spun around in his arms. With eyes closed, I brought my trembling lips to his.
And he pushed his into mine, triggering an explosion in my stomach, my mind, my very blood. It had been so long since I'd been held by a man, since I felt the strength emanating from a body that was so different from mine. Stephen’s death had broken me completely, and I’d always believed that I would never feel the touch of a man again. And if fate hadn’t stepped in so cruelly, I was sure that would’ve been true.
But here I was, reveling in Alton’s strength and how good his body felt against mine. He was so big, and I was so close to him, my soft breasts pressed firmly against his rock hard chest. His hands immediately shot up to explore them, squeezing them deliciously with his thick fingers. I buried my face in his neck as the doubts began to surface again, and as Alton teased one of my nipples, my groan was half lust and half frustration.