by Kaye Blue
I had felt it before, but after my conversation with Marcos, the memory of how intense those two days before had been, I knew I was on a precipice. If I wasn’t careful, this would spin out of control.
I wouldn’t let that happen.
Sixteen
Alex
*
Four days later, I realized I had made a mistake.
Things weren’t going to spin out of control.
Things already had spun out of control.
The days had passed in an absolute blur, each moment I spent away from Mia only making me want her that much more.
And I’d given myself far too much time alone with my thoughts, had allowed myself too much time to think about her, and not just in anger.
That was the scariest part of all.
My anger hadn’t gone away, of course.
It never would, but now it was tempered by other things. For so long, she had been abstract, a person I had known, but one that I hadn’t spent any real time with.
I still hadn’t done that, but the times I had seen her had been enough to remind me of little things that I hadn’t exactly forgotten, but that didn’t feel real.
Real.
That was exactly the word that kept coming to mind. With Mia, things felt real.
I felt real.
I hurt, I was angry. I felt things, which was something I didn’t like, but when she wasn’t around I moved through life in a daze. Those few occasions when I hung out with Marcos and his family were always nice, but they were fleeting. And they really weren’t mine. I was simply a bystander.
But this time with Mia was mine, and I couldn’t stop the longing to have that all the time.
My plan had completely backfired.
I needed to find a way out of it.
It was clear that staying away wasn’t working, and for one of the first times in my life, I was completely at a loss for what to do.
Staying away wasn’t helping, and somehow I knew that being close to her wouldn’t help either.
There had to be some other way, and I was determined to find it.
Of course, that wasn’t the extent of the thoughts that had plagued my mind.
One in particular, something I should have noticed earlier but that had been lost in all of the emotion kept coming back.
And it was that question, the nagging at the back of my mind that finally broke my resolve.
“I’ll be out of touch for the rest of the day,” I said to my assistant as I left the office.
“Of course, Mr. Segal,” she responded.
I barely heard her, so intent was I on getting the answer I sought.
I went down to the garage and made my way to the penthouse in record time.
And almost punched something in frustration when I found it empty.
*
Mia
*
“Will that be all, ma’am?” the proprietor of the small shop asked.
“Yes,” I said.
I paid for my purchases and then made my way out of the shop.
I paused on the city street, trying to decide where to go next.
In the end, I headed back toward the penthouse, deciding to deposit my purchases before going out again.
This was the first time I had ventured out since Alex had left.
At first I had been sure that he was going to come back, but as the days had slipped by, I had become less and less certain. And in the end, I had grown frustrated, had decided this morning that I would not sit around and wait for him.
Which sounded nice, but wasn’t exactly true.
I was doing exactly that, but I was so bored I thought I would go out of my head. I hadn’t been idle for that long since I had had chickenpox in sixth grade, and moving at that pace, one that involved waking up, walking around Alex’s beautiful yet cold penthouse, going to the rooftop gym or pool, and then heading back to the penthouse had lost its novelty rather quickly.
I decided that since I was going to be there for a while, I might as well spruce up the place a bit, and eventually start working my way towards seeing some of the sights.
Making that plan had given me some distraction from waiting for Alex, wondering why he hadn’t come back, and wondering even more why I wanted him to.
This whole situation had me discombobulated, but I was determined to get my head back on my shoulders, see this through. What Alex did, what drove him, was not my concern and not something I could control, and I would drive myself crazy trying to do so. I’d just take what came, make the best of it, and keep a cool head.
At least today, it seemed to work.
I had carefully mapped out the surrounding area and saw the ritzy shops around the building. Too far out of my price range, so I had dared venture a little bit farther, hoping for a few items to make the place feel, if not like home, a little more comfortable.
The glass shop had been perfect. I found a fantastic coffee cup, plate, and bowl, the beautiful deep purple glass something that would give the place a little splash of color, and would make mealtime feel less institutional.
A good first step if I said so myself.
I went back to the penthouse, and punched in the key code, still giggling over the fact it had a code and not a key.
It was a small thing, something that shouldn’t have amused me as much as it did, as did the personal elevator. They were little touches of luxury that I knew I could get used to.
The minute I opened the door, I could sense something different in the room, and when I spotted Alex at the far corner staring out the windows, my heart leaped and then just as quickly fell.
I didn’t speak to him, and he didn’t acknowledge my presence.
Even from the distance that separated us I could see the tension in the way he held his shoulders, in the stark expression on his face.
Something had him wound up, and I suspected I knew what it was.
In no hurry to initiate this confrontation, I went to the kitchen and then began to wash the new purchases, making it a point not to look in Alex’s direction.
He stayed where he was, still, a statue, or at least he would’ve seemed that way were it not for the waves of tension rolling off him.
I ignored it, and just washed the dishes and then dried them, then placed them on the dish rack that I had only discovered the day before.
“You asked for manners from me, but you don’t offer them in return,” he said.
His voice carried across the wide expanse of the living room and into the kitchen area, seeming to snake down my spine, settle in my stomach, equal parts trepidation and arousal.
It was beyond messed up that I was reacting to him, especially given how intense he seemed, but as was always the case with Alex, I couldn’t rely on my body to keep its distance, couldn’t expect myself to be unaffected by him.
“Can you be more specific?” I asked, finally responding.
I circled the wide island and leaned against it, not anxious to get closer to him, at least not until I understood what was going on.
“I recall the last time I saw you, you chastised me for leaving without saying good-bye. You entered without saying hello,” he said.
He finished speaking and then he turned to look at me, his green eyes darkened, his brows furrowed.
I got the sense that we were talking about something that had very little to do with me giving him a greeting or not, and I wasn’t exactly following. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say, didn’t know what I should say, so I went with the truth.
“You seemed upset. Like you weren’t in the mood to talk. I thought better than to disturb you,” I said.
He lifted one corner of his mouth, but instead of his smirk, or the sometimes-genuine smile I saw, this was a twisted imitation of a smile, a look that made my blood run cold.
“I looked so upset that you didn’t want to disturb me. Any guesses as to why I would be upset?” he asked.
Again I sensed the danger in this, though I didn�
�t understand what was happening, not at all.
I wanted to tell him that, but knew he wouldn’t accept it, not now, anyway.
“I haven’t seen you for days. How would I have any idea?” I asked.
My voice was low, but I managed not to make it sound timid, the one redeeming element of this encounter so far.
I had imagined what it would be like when I saw Alex again, but this hadn’t been a part of it. Whatever had happened in the days since he had gone clearly hadn’t been good, had him on edge, and I felt like things between us were worse now than they had been the first day, which was saying something.
“That’s correct. You haven’t seen me for days. Yet when I arrived you weren’t here. Where you’re supposed to be,” he said, putting emphasis on those last words.
Suddenly the pieces clicked into place.
“Oh, that,” I said lamely, wondering why I had convinced myself that he hadn’t been serious about that.
“Yeah. That,” Alex replied, his voice a knife’s edge.
I was torn, feeling somewhat guilty, but also feeling justified. He had been gone for days. Did he really expect me to sit here and wait for him?
I looked at his expression, saw that his brows had dipped low, his eyes narrowed into slits.
Apparently he did.
But that wouldn’t work for me, and I reminded Alex of what he had said at our last meeting.
“You said after four. It’s barely noon,” I whispered.
“And I also said that if I came here and you were gone, I’d be upset. That there would be consequences,” he said.
His voice was low, almost mean, and yet still it sent a shiver through me, one that settled in my core, sent the desire that had been on a low simmer into overdrive.
I had no idea what he meant by consequences, but I was suddenly keen to find out.
I wouldn’t tell him that though, hoped that he missed my reaction, though I knew that hope was likely misplaced.
Alex didn’t miss much.
He walked toward me slowly, his expression still menacing, my feeling now one of prey, a feeling that for the first time in my life I welcomed.
On instinct I leaned back, but had nowhere to go except against the countertop.
I stood as tall as I could, the hard stone of the island pushing against my back.
Alex got closer, then closer still until he was directly in front of me, my breasts grazing his chest, my thighs against his, the hard bulge of his cock against my stomach.
He locked eyes with me, his gaze probing, searching for something.
He looked like he was going to speak, but didn’t say anything and instead reached past me to the dishes that had instantly been forgotten.
“You bought something,” he said.
I froze for a moment, confused about the conversation we were having, one that seemed so at odds with the charged atmosphere.
“Yes,” I finally said, having regained my equilibrium enough to speak. “I wanted dishes.”
I sounded insane, in this conversation was insane, but Alex studied the ceramic mug like it held the key to life, then put it down and locked eyes with me again.
“There are dishes here,” he said. “Not up to your standards?”
I got the implication in the word “standards,” and knew that Alex was deliberately twisting my words to make it seem like I was looking down on him, but I didn’t allow myself to take the bait.
“They’re nice. But I wanted something more…”
“More what?” he asked.
“Homey,” I responded.
He was momentarily taken aback by the word, but then flashed me that mean, humorless smirk I hated so much.
“Homey. That always mattered to you. At least the pretense of it,” he said, simultaneously complimenting me and calling me a phony. More bait that I wouldn’t take.
He put his hands on my hips, began stroking small circles at my waist, though he kept his eyes locked on mine, his expression still that mean, unrelenting glare.
Again I was struck by the strangeness of this moment, the intensity of it, the confusion.
He touched me so sweetly, yet his expression was anything but.
“I just wanted to make the place more comfortable,” I whispered, wondering why I was defending my choice to purchase ceramic dishes, wondering even more why it seemed to bother him so.
“You want to be comfortable?” he said.
“Does what I want matter?” I asked.
I probably shouldn’t have asked that question, was probably opening myself up to a barrage that I had no interest in. But to my surprise, Alex didn’t respond.
Instead he moved his hands under my shirt, his palms warm, rough against my flesh.
He swiped up my sides, trailed his fingers across my breasts, then down my stomach, back to my hips where he continued those small circles.
I exhaled hard, those few touches from him sending me to passionate heights.
I stilled when he centered his hands on my body and unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and then pushed them down my hips.
Yet again I found myself half dressed while Alex was fully dressed, but it seemed he planned to correct that.
Before I could react, he had pulled my T-shirt up and over my head and tossed it aside, leaving me standing in my bra and panties.
I was vaguely aware of how bright the room was, wondered how Alex was responding to his first glimpse at my body in this level of undressed, but those worries were so distant as to almost be absent.
Instead I was quiet at the intensity of his expression, torn by how it conflicted with the way he touched me.
He reached up and unhooked my bra, slid it off my arms, and tossed it to join my shirt.
My nipples puckered under the cool air of the kitchen and the heat of Alex’s stare, but I didn’t curl my shoulders, didn’t do anything to try to hide myself from him.
Still without speaking he leaned forward and captured one of the tight buds in his mouth.
His kiss, like his touch was soft, gentle, his warm tongue gently stroking my flesh as his lips worked the surrounding skin and pulled a moan from my throat.
A moan that intensified when he twisted my other nipple between his fingers and then soothed away the sting with his thumb.
Soon, far too soon, he broke the embrace and stepped back to stare down at me.
His expression was still intense, as mean as it had been before but tense with something else now.
As quickly as he had left he was back again, standing in front of me, my nipples abraded against the fabric of his suit jacket.
As he had before, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties and then pushed them down.
Unbidden, I stepped out of them and my pants, and realized that this was the first time I had been fully bare in front of Alex.
I felt near breathless with my desire, the heat of his gaze making my already wet sex that much more achy and needy.
Alex continued to stare at me, his gaze searing, his hands on my skin making it almost impossible for me to focus.
I wanted to reach for him, touch him, kiss him, but I wasn’t free to do anything. So I stayed where I was, feeling at his mercy, hating it, loving it, not sure how I could feel both things simultaneously.
But then I wasn’t able to think, not when he reached between my thighs and touched me, his fingers gentle, far too gentle against my sensitive flesh.
I could tell that his touch wasn’t intended to satisfy. No, he was simply using his strong, nimble fingers to drive me higher, higher, but to what end I didn’t know.
My eyes had drooped, but I kept them open, kept focused on Alex.
Part of me didn’t want him to see this, didn’t want him to experience me losing control, but an even bigger part of me did want him to see it. I didn’t understand why, didn’t actually know if it was true, but it felt important for him to see what he did to me, important for him to know that despite what this might be for him,
it wasn’t that for me.
His expression changed, his face turning down into what looked to be a frown but what I recognized as intense concentration.
His jaw was clenched, and I could see he was struggling for control. The sight was heartening, gave me at least some hope that I wasn’t in this by myself.
I couldn’t expect anything of Alex, but to know that he wasn’t completely unaffected was something I wanted, and something I was happy to take.
I sighed out when he leaned forward to brush his lips against my neck, his breath raising goose bumps against my skin that his fingers wiped away.
He moved lower, grazing along my collarbones, then back up to nip at my shoulder.
The feeling of his teeth piercing my skin, the slight sting of pain only made the pleasure of his touch that much more intense.
I’d been strong, kept my hands at my sides, fingers balled into a fist, but at that sensation I was powerless to do anything but reach out for him.
I grasped his shoulders tight, afraid that I might rip the fabric of his suit.
I could only imagine what Alex might think, but I was too far gone to feel anything like shame. Couldn’t do anything but yield to his touch, one that he was so expertly applying.
He had avoided my clit, but soon began to tease the hard nub, stroking until I began to pant and then backing off.
I clenched down tight around emptiness that I wanted him to fill, but he had no intention of doing that. Instead he teased my opening, barely pierced me with the tip of one of his fingers before he pulled out.
It was torture, pure and simple, the most delicious kind, and I didn’t know if I wanted to beg him for more or to beg him to stop.
More, I decided the next time he touched my clit. I wanted more, and somehow I found the courage to ask for it.
“Alex, please,” I said, my voice twisted, low, a beg that was shameful, but I didn’t care about saving face right now.
“Please what?” he whispered.
Were this any other time, I would have resented how in control he seemed, but I couldn’t do that, not now.
“I need…” I trailed off, unable to make myself say the words.
“Need what?” he asked.
He lightened his touch even further, his fingers barely making contact with my skin. I was so frustrated I wanted to growl, but knew that doing so wouldn’t get me what I wanted.