In the Market for Love

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In the Market for Love Page 11

by Joy Avery


  When Alonso resurfaced from the back, he had his cell phone pressed against his ear. “I’ll be right back,” he mouthed.

  Not that damn phone again. She nodded and watched him stroll through the exit. The way he ran his hand over his head reminded her of the first time she’d seen him at the hospital. He looked just as hassled now as he had then. She guessed any woman who fell for Alonso would have to put up with him being a workaholic. Luckily, neither appealed to her—falling for him nor his workaholic personality.

  Tempted to request to see what had gotten Alonso so excited, she resisted. She didn’t need one more thing clouding her brain. Alonso had that part of the market cornered. Done with her lingerie experience, Vivian said goodbye to Blanche—who gave her a business card and welcomed her back anytime—and ambled outside.

  Alonso’s raised tone instantly snagged her attention. She eased toward the sound of his voice, then reconsidered. But something caught her ear.

  “The house is as good as mine, but there’s a ch—”

  A knot formed in the pit of Vivian’s stomach. The house is as good as mine. Was he referring to her house? The rope tightened. Of course he was. His claim infuriated her. But hadn’t she been expecting this?

  On the beach the day before, she’d actually considered that maybe—just maybe—this trip wasn’t all about Alonso trying to get what he wanted. He’d proved her wrong. He was a businessman before all else.

  She hurried away when it sounded as if he was finishing up the call. A mix of rage and something else she couldn’t quite label swirled inside her.

  The house is as good as yours, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that.

  Chapter 13

  Vivian had been quiet for most of the drive back from Carolina Beach. And she’d been just as reserved once they’d arrived back at the house. Even now, as she helped Alonso plate dinner, she was in her own world. What she’d heard played over and over in her head, but instead of confronting him, she’d chosen to wait. Timing was everything.

  When Alonso bumped her playfully, she jerked away. She’d be the first to admit she wasn’t doing a good job at hiding her displeasure with him. But didn’t she have a right to be angry as hell?

  “Okay. What’s going on, Vivian? I’ve tried my damnedest to figure out what I’ve done to piss you off, but nothing pops out at me.”

  Her first instinct was to tear into him for making her actually believe he could be about something more than business, but in good conscience, she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to blame him, it wasn’t his fault that she’d seen something that just wasn’t there. It wasn’t his fault that she’d allowed herself to actually believe they’d shared a connection.

  “Nothing,” she said, mounting a footstool to reach a dish on the top shelf. Despite her best efforts to wrangle her resentment, it grew. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she were more furious at Alonso or herself. Alonso, for being a deceitful bastard. Herself, for being blinded by his illusion.

  Not following her gut instinct had gotten her in one fine mess.

  “Pardon my French, but I’m calling bullshit, Vivian.”

  She whipped around to face him, momentarily forgetting her present standing. The bowl flew from her hand as she fought to maintain her balance. The ceramic dish made a loud ting as it bounced off the counter and hit the floor, shattering into several large pieces.

  Mentally bracing herself for the violent introduction she was about to make with the tiled floor, she closed her eyes and prepared for impact. Only it wasn’t hard and cold that greeted her; it was firm and warm. When she cracked one eye open, Alonso’s face was the first thing she saw.

  “I got you,” he said.

  His sexy lips curled into a half smile that sent a wave of ravenous desire through her. Obviously her body hadn’t gotten the memo from her brain that they were standing united against this man, not for him. But before she could even fully process the command to escape from his embrace, his mouth crashed down on hers and he kissed her with the fervor and intensity of a well-acquainted lover.

  Alonso’s tongue swept her mouth with a force she couldn’t recall ever experiencing in all of her years of kissing. Instinctively...or voluntarily...or involuntarily...or desperately...however you wanted to label it, she matched his zeal. His arms tightened around her, pinning her even closer to his solid chest. Her heart pounded with so much force, she was sure he felt it. But she felt something, too. His hardness, pressing against her stomach.

  Vivian wanted to pull away. God knew, she wanted to pull away and free herself from the consequences that could result from his kisses, her desire, their unrestrained chemistry. Chemistry that she’d attempted to dispel only moments earlier. But she couldn’t pull away. Despite her best effort to convince herself this was nothing more than another trap Alonso was laying for her, she couldn’t break free.

  As if the god of coherent thinking felt sorry for her, it intervened, reminding her of the phone call she’d overheard earlier. The one all but assuring whomever Alonso had been talking to that the house—her house—was as good as his.

  With fury overshadowing longing, she tore away from his delicious mouth and shoved out of his arms. “Was this your plan all along? Seduce me until I signed on the dotted line? Then discard me like you have every other woman in your life? Well, I have news for you, Mr. Wright, I’m not that damn easy. I’m leaving.” She turned to escape the room.

  “If that is what you think that kiss was about, you’re deluding yourself, Vivian. You and I both know it was about far more. You can deny it now, but you can’t deny it forever. It’s too powerful.”

  The confidence in his tone, the control he exhibited, it all infuriated her even more. She stopped dead in her tracks, considering whether to turn and confront the foolishness he’d just spewed or simply keep walking. Unfortunately, he didn’t give her the opportunity to react.

  He neared her as he spoke. “You don’t see me, Vivian. Not the man I truly am. You see all the men who have lied to you, deceived you. Your ex, your exes, maybe even your father.”

  With the mention of her father—a damn good man—she whirled around to face him. “Don’t you ever talk about my father,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. His nearness unnerved her. And when she took a step back, she bumped into the island. Alonso braced a hand on either side of the island, pinning her in place.

  A beat of silence played between them. Any other time, the way his commanding eyes probed her would have caused an instant stirring in her stomach. Not this time.

  “What are you afraid of, Vivian? Are you afraid that if you look close enough, you might just like what you see?”

  “I heard your phone call earlier. The one where you all but assured whomever was on the other end that my house is yours.” She witnessed a subtle shift in Alonso’s demeanor. Yeah, she’d doused some of his self-assurance. “Based on that, who should I be seeing?”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “You should see the man who’s fantasized about kissing you from the first time he ever laid eyes on you.”

  She wasn’t swayed by his dime-store poetry.

  “Or the man who hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day in the hospital.”

  Yeah, she was sure he’d thought about her. But only how he would bamboozle her.

  “Or the man who loses his cool around you because he doesn’t want to say something stupid and scare you off.”

  When she turned her head away, he placed a finger under her chin and directed her attention back to him.

  “Or the man who can conduct business with some of the most powerful individuals in the country, without flinching, but can’t keep his thoughts straight when you’re around. See that man, Vivian. He’s the only one who counts.”

  Vivian released a condescending laugh. “This is all a gam
e to you, isn’t it? You’ll do or say whatever it takes to get what you want, not caring who you hurt in the process. And I was foolish enough to believe...” Her words trailed off. “I understand why you’re so successful.”

  “You are absolutely right.”

  At least he was man enough to admit it.

  “But only about the house. I wanted your house. I never made that a secret. Wanted. Past tense. Not anymore. There’s something I want much more. Something I believe is exceedingly more valuable. You. I want you.”

  Vivian’s breath seized in her chest from the sheer sincerity she witnessed in Alonso’s eyes. Swallowing hard, she did her best to retain some semblance of control.

  “You’re afraid,” he continued. “You’re afraid of this thing we have going on.” He cradled her face between his hands. “This wild, insane, all-consuming energy we generate. You don’t trust it. You don’t trust it because you don’t trust me. But that’s okay. You will.”

  “Always the businessman. Say what you need to, to get what you want.”

  “I want you. I want you,” he repeated as if she hadn’t heard him the first two times. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more. Tell me you don’t want me, too.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Liar. You want me just as much as I want you.”

  His hands slid to her neck and he pulled her mouth closer to his, but instead of kissing her—something she shamelessly craved—he spoke in a gentle tone against her lips.

  “You want me. You want me to kiss you until you’re inches from unconsciousness.”

  “I don’t.” Though the longing in her tone would have suggested otherwise.

  “You want me to strip every piece of clothing off you and caress your beautiful body.”

  “I don’t.” Her tingling flesh screamed the opposite.

  “You want me to tease your nipples with my fingers, then my mouth.”

  “No... I don’t.” However, her beaded nipples supported his claim more than her own.

  “You want me to drag my tongue down the center of your torso, plant my face between your thighs and claim every drop of your wetness. Afterward, you can call Tressa and tell her that I might just be the one.”

  Vivian gasped and her eyes popped open. Had he heard Tressa over the phone? Clearly he had.

  As if he hadn’t tortured her enough, he continued with his arousing wordplay, “I want to taste you until you shiver. Until you beg me to enter you. And I will. Slowly and gently at first.”

  Until she begged? In his dreams. She didn’t beg for anything.

  Vivian swallowed hard again, her breathing so ragged from the impact of Alonso’s assertions that she became dizzy. When she attempted to speak, her voice hitched. Clearing her throat, she started again. “I—I don’t want any of that. Now, please...get out of my way.”

  The clammy, trembling hands she rested against his chest had been meant to push him away; instead, they explored his rock-hard frame. Once she realized what she’d been doing, she jerked away, her eyes wide in mortification, panic, dismay. “Oh, God, I... I...”

  “‘Want you, Alonso.’ Say it, Vivian.”

  Her mind said no, but her body said, “I...”

  “‘Want you to make me climb the wall, Alonso.’ Just say it, and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Over and over again.”

  Vivian’s heart wasn’t the only thing thudding hard enough to rattle her bones. If the space between her legs could emit sound, it would be the piercing wail of a nuclear reactor warning of a potential meltdown. She neared critical status.

  “Say it, Vivian. Say it so I can put us both out of our misery.”

  “I...want... I want you, Alonso.” The choppy words were out before she even realized they were coming.

  Alonso’s mouth was on her before she’d even released the last syllable. He kissed her. Really kissed her. Made mad, raw, passionate love to her mouth. And she wanted it. Every inch, every stroke of his delicious tongue.

  When he broke away, they both panted like heat-exhausted puppies needing water. But it wasn’t water they needed—or wanted.

  Without warning, Alonso scooped her into his arms and hurried for the stairs. Inside his bedroom, he placed her feet on the floor, but guided her body against one of the walls.

  “Alonso, I want—”

  “Shh.” He pecked her gently. “I know what you want, remember?”

  By the gleam in his eye, she knew he did.

  He grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, dropping it to the floor where it formed a puddle at their feet. He kneaded her nipples through the blue fabric of her bra. A soft moan escaped past her lips. “Mmm.” Removing the lacy material, he replaced his fingers with his warm lips. The sensation shot volts of pleasure through her entire body. “I want you right now. Please.”

  When Alonso returned to a full stand, he smirked. “I told you I’d have you begging.”

  “Don’t let it swell your head.”

  “Much too late.”

  His eyes lowered to the tented front of his shorts and hers followed. The sight only amplified her anticipation.

  Alonso captured her hand and guided it onto his erection. “See what you did.”

  She gripped him, explored him, stroked him gently. “Oops.”

  Taking both her hands into his, he pinned them against the wall above her head and ground his hardness against her. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  “Show-off.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He winked, then lowered to his knees.

  Removing her skirt and panties, he kissed along her outer thigh, then the inner. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him placing kisses against the curly hairs covering her core.

  When Alonso placed one of her legs over his shoulder, then the other, her eyes sprang open. “What are—” She gasped when he slowly stood and her body glided up the wall. “Alonso—”

  “Trust me enough to know that I got you.”

  When he’d mentioned making her climb the wall, she’d had something totally different in mind. She never imagined he literally meant she’d climb an actual wall. It was a good thing she wasn’t afraid of heights, because her current position would have caused a full-on panic attack. Thank goodness for the high ceilings.

  Vivian mounted a protest in her head...until Alonso’s tongue found its way inside her, halting any objections she had. “Oh, God.” His hands gripped her ass, while hers held his head in place. If she plummeted to her death at that moment, she’d go a very happy woman.

  Several explicit words—that would have made a sailor blush—swam through her head. And when Alonso performed some impressive tongue action, she cried out so loud it vibrated her chest.

  Her stomach muscles tightened, toes curled and breathing grew choppy as the powerful orgasm gripped her. Despite her squirming, Alonso held her firmly in place as he continued to feast on her. And just when she thought her body had no more to give, another even more potent orgasm claimed her. She wasn’t sure how Alonso had managed to keep her upright, but he did.

  This second release rendered her useless. Alonso cradled her spent body in his arms and carried her to the bed. Placing her down like a priceless artifact, he stood over her, his eyes raking over her nude frame as if trying to burn the image of her into his memory.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he said.

  “I want to see your body naked.”

  “Then you should tell me to take off my clothes.”

  “Take off your clothes,” she said.

  He smirked, then peeled the T-shirt from his body. The urge to reach out and glide her fingertips over his chocolate flesh rushed her, but she resisted. “Keep going.”

  Alonso unfastened his shorts and slowly lowered
the zipper. Vivian held her breath as he hooked his thumbs inside his shorts and lowered them. Gnawing at her bottom lip, her excitement grew.

  The gray fitted boxer briefs rode low, revealing his tantalizing V. Her eyes trailed the line of fine black hairs to the massive bulge that threatened to snake out the bottom of the underwear. Again, Alonso hooked his thumbs inside and inched the fabric down. His erection sprang free and bobbed in her direction.

  Retrieving his wallet from the nightstand, Alonso fished out a gold wrapper, ripped into it and started to sheath himself.

  “Let me,” Vivian said.

  Alonso arched a brow, then removed his hand. She held his eyes as she slowly rolled the latex down the length of him. He was so warm, so solid, so delicate to the touch that she wanted to toss the condom aside and take him into her mouth.

  She didn’t.

  The selfish need to feel him inside of her held precedence. The second she was done, Alonso had her on her back, his body blanketing hers. When he inched inside of her—slow and gentle, like he’d promised—she moaned.

  His soft lips pressed a kiss to her throat. “I love that sound.”

  Her eager hands glided along the length of his body as he delivered unhurried strokes. This felt good. He felt good.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, brushing a kiss against her jawline.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to take my time with you, Vivian. Is that okay?”

  “Yes.” He repositioned her leg and she swore she felt him go even deeper.

  “You taste great, but you feel even better.” He kissed a corner of her mouth. “We’re not going to get much sleep tonight, because I plan to be inside of you all night long.”

  She had no objections to that.

  Alonso captured her mouth in a heady kiss. His strokes grew faster, harder with each brush of her tongue against his. She welcomed each powerful thrust delivered. Before long, he had her body in a frenzy and teetering dangerously close to the edge.

 

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