by Gina Gordon
Between the store and the launch of her own custom line, Carrie was too busy for dating but deep down she knew why she’d agreed. She needed to move on with her life, and sitting at home with her brother and Aleks wouldn’t accomplish it.
Carrie made sure all the lights were off then headed up to her room, counting down the minutes until she would be asleep in her own bed.
She thought about her dilemma as she slipped out of her dress. What did she need to do in order to move on? Him. That thought came out of nowhere. Carrie needed to do Aleks. That was the answer. She would have him and realize that he had been a teenage fantasy this whole time. That they didn’t belong together. She would satisfy her curiosity and finally break free of the Aleks Turko hold.
Changing into a t-shirt and pajama pants, Carrie was comfortable at last. She hadn’t even worn matching underwear on her date. Nor had she prepared her nether area. Sleeping with Dave just wasn’t appealing. She rarely slept with any of the men she dated. Carrie had saved herself for a long time. Saved herself for Aleks. At a certain point, she realized it was a foolish dream. It was never going to happen.
Carrie grabbed her cleanser from under the sink and scrubbed the makeup from her face. She was comfortable in her skin. What was it about her that Aleks didn’t like? She knew who she was. She had a dream. A goal. She was calm, collected and had a purpose. Except when it came to Aleks. With one simple glance he could render her speechless.
She scraped her toothbrush across her teeth, barely concentrating on the task. Every time she let a man inside her, all she could think about was Aleks. It was him kissing her, touching her, writhing against her.
Ramming her toothbrush in the holder, Carrie stared at her pathetic face in the mirror. It was time she did something about this crush. This all-consuming lust that took over every time he was near. All she had to do was think about him and she was good to go. Logically, it seemed the only way to get over Aleks would be to have him. Carrie would go after him, seduce him and finally take him to bed. Then she could move on. Aleks Turko would be ancient history. The only question was how she was going to do it? Would she even be able to convince him?
Carrie flicked the light switch off and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Was the evening not what you expected?”
“Aleks! You scared me.” Here she was trying to think of a plan to get Aleks into her bed
and there he stood, sexy as hell, not ten feet from it.
“Sorry. I just thought I would check on you.” He twisted his body so his shoulder blocked
some of her bedroom doorway.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m not fifteen anymore.” No matter how much she loved him–
correction–lusted after him, she still didn’t appreciate his over-protective nature.
“Old habits are hard to break.”
Habits? Didn’t he mean brotherly obligation.
“Early night?” Aleks was coaxing for information. Did her brother put him up to this? “I have to prepare for the weekend.”
“So he didn’t get any?”
“That’s none of your business.” For as much as Carrie would love to give the play-by-play, as many times as she had heard Aleks recount his female affairs, she couldn’t.
Brushing past him, she entered her room. He followed behind her and grabbed her elbow, twirling her around. A six foot two frame of all man bracketed her against the wall. He positioned one hand above her head and the other against his side, fist clenched.
“Aleks?”
“You shouldn’t go out with a guy like that.”
He was close. The closest he’d ever been without her having to say uncle. The only time Aleks had ever climbed on top of her was when they’d wrestled, and they hadn’t done that since they were teenagers. Carrie could feel his minty breath caressing her jaw line. “Oh yeah. Why not?”
“Because that guy isn’t good for you.”
“Really? And what type of guy is good for me?” Carrie looked into his dark green eyes. The same eyes she had been fantasizing about since she was ten years old while she waited for the moment when Aleks would finally say I’m the one you should be with. That’s all Carrie ever wanted to hear. From him. From Aleks.
She could feel her nipples harden under her tiny t-shirt. So much for her plan. He had her tied up in knots.
“He tried to impress you, didn’t he?”
“What?”
“Your date. He pulled out all the stops trying to impress you, thinking that would get you into his bed. Where did he take you?”
“To the harbor, a dinner boat cruise.” His presence stole the very breath she needed to keep herself standing.
His laugh was mischievous. Sexy. Arrogant. Typical. “He doesn’t even know you. I hope you didn’t sleep with him.” Aleks had never spoken to her that way. Giving her advice on who she should sleep with.
“What do you care?”
“Oh, Care Bear.” He had called her that since they were kids. She loved the way it sounded rolling off his tongue. “A guy doesn’t need fancy boats and dinners to impress you. A causal night out with beer and sloppy food, maybe a sporting event, that’s what makes you tick.”
“Well, Obi-Wan...is that what you would do?”
“Hell, yes! If I had the opportunity to take you out I would definitely not blow it with a boat cruise. Cheesy.” He elongated the word to get his point across.
“I guess I’ve been dating the wrong guys.”
“I think you have. You should do something about that, Care Bear.” He ran his finger along the round collar of her shirt. Her quick intake of breath caused him to lift his eyes. They grew dark. Something was different. They were almost lustful. But just as quick as the intensity appeared it disappeared. With a smirk, he backed away and whispered, “Good night.”
Mind racing, heart thumping, Carrie slumped further down the wall. Where did that come from? Aleks had never been so blatant. Was it blatant? Maybe he was just concerned she would end up with a loser. Maybe it was a prompt to get her to date more, to get her to move on.
Carrie had the perfect opportunity to proposition him, but his actions had scrambled her brains. How was she ever going to follow through?
She lay on her bed, enjoying the tingle in her body that he left in his wake. Good thing Carrie had retrieved her box of sex toys from the basement before Aleks moved in. She was going to need them tonight.
Chapter 3
Aleks laid on the massage table, his back molded onto the soft leather that was covered with a white sheet. His eyes were closed, but he could hear Amie breathing in and out as she stood at the head of the table. Aleks cheated and opened one eye to see her pointer finger moving confidently, drawing in the air. Amie had explained to him during their second session that she was drawing the ancient Reiki symbols. She must have completed the third round of drawings because she placed her hands at the side of his head, wrists together, fingers barely touching his temple.
The flow of energy that passed through his body never ceased to amaze him. It was like a summer breeze that seeped from her hands.
Their sessions were shorter now. The first time he’d laid on this table, an hour and a half later, Amie still hadn’t finished.
She moved her hands from his head to his neck, her fingers forming a tent around his throat. She continued her treatment down to the rib cage, back and forth strokes across the abdomen, then smooth v-shaped strokes around the groin. Aleks wasn’t supposed to be watching, but he found it fascinating how different he felt. Centered. Focused. Not to mention the complete 180 he tried to ignore in regards to his feelings for Carrie. But most importantly, it seemed as if the blinders he had been wearing were ripped away and he was seeing his future clearly for the very first time. How was Amie able to make these changes with a simple touch? Correction, without a touch. Her hands never touched his body, they hovered.
When she was done, he sat up.
“Are you excited that this is the l
ast time I’ll be using you as a guinea pig?” Amie went to the small sink in the corner and washed her hands. Today, their session was at the Lotus Flower, the yoga studio that employed both Amie and Martina.
Aleks felt his face curl up in confusion. “Yes and no.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m glad we’re done because you’re really freaky with this whole spirit-health-chakra stuff.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment even though you called me a freak.” She giggled.
No matter what Aleks said, even if it was negative, Amie never took offense. “And no?” “No, because...because I do feel different.”
Amie roughly dried her hands on a white towel. “What kind of different?” “Happier. Relaxed. Focused.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” She cocked her head to the side and placed a hand on one hip.
“Admit that this freaky stuff might work?”
“Clearly, it does work.” She leaned her hip against the counter.
“What exactly does this do again?”
“Reiki is energy therapy. It balances you emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. Basically, I’m helping you find your right path.”
He still didn’t really understand. Amie must have noticed the confused look on his face because she continued. “I’m getting rid of all of your crap.”
“Why did you pick me anyway?”
“I flipped a coin.” She shrugged.
“Be serious. Why did you pick me?” Aleks needed to know. The strange thoughts and
feelings he was having as a result of these sessions were coming from left field.
“If I tell you, you’re just going to think I’m more of a freak.”
“No, I won’t. I promise.” He loved Amie. No matter how flaky she may be, she was still one of his best friends.
“My Spirit Guide told me to pick you.”
Aleks was expecting some weird justification but not this weird. “Your Spirit Guide?” “See, you think I’m a freak.”
“No! I don’t. I just didn’t know there was such a thing as a Spirit Guide.”
“Yes. I have a Spirit Guide, and she told me you needed help. Do you know how messed up you were when we started? Your one, two, four and five chakras were completely blocked.” “Are they still blocked?”
“Nope. I fixed that. Frankly, I’m a miracle worker.” She put away some massage oils that were sitting on the counter beside the sink. Her long, blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, swung from side to side. “You resisted at first. You’ve been a challenge, Turko, but I think you’re finally seeing clearly.”
“Just what exactly am I seeing clearly?”
He saw the change in her eyes, from calm healer to mischievous meddler. “How’s your sex life?”
“What does that have to do with this?” By the expression on her face, Aleks knew she demanded an answer, and he sighed in resignation. “You never were one to hold back.”
“So...”
“My sex life is fine.”
“Fine? Aleks Turko doesn’t have just a fine sex life.”
“Lately, it’s just fine.” Aleks felt a little off his game. Uninterested. His quantity of women
had taken a significant hit. All because of the weird thoughts that kept shifting his focus. “I’ve been feeling...”
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“Come on, you can tell me,” Amie coaxed.
“I feel very aware of certain things. Things I’ve never thought before.” Like wanting to have sex with Carrie. Like wanting to have a life with Carrie. “I feel like I’ve been reprogrammed.” Saying the words out loud felt good, as if acknowledging his thoughts made him seem less crazy, but it also made Aleks realize a very important fact. “These things I’m thinking, those would be your doing. You put them there.”
“You make it sound like I’m some alien probing your brain.” Amie jumped up on the table beside him. “Look Aleks, Reiki can be a powerful thing, and if you’re open to it, it can help you figure out exactly who you are and what you want.”
Aleks laid back on the table and rubbed his hands up and down his face. “That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
Chapter 4
Carrie pranced down the basement stairs. As she made her way to the spare room she used as a sewing area, she silently thanked the lingerie gods that Aleks was out of the house. She passed by the lone bedroom and shuddered. Even though the space was occupied by Aleks, it would forever be tainted with the image of her brother and Martina going at it.
She entered the neutral-colored space. Her sewing machine sat atop an oak desk on the left. Plastic containers lined the other wall with needles and thread and patterns. A makeshift fabric rack housing bolts of satin spandex and lace sat against the far wall. It was tiny, but it was her sanctuary.
Working at Satin & Lace since she was a teenager had given Carrie the inside scoop into the industry and the customers. She had come to appreciate her options when it came to designing her own line and had decided to stray from the norm, offering a wider range of sizes and alternative designs to accommodate all types of women.
It made her cringe watching the defeated look on a woman’s face as she scrutinized herself in the changing room mirror. She knew exactly what they were thinking–these stockings cut into my thighs, this elastic gives me too much muffin top. Carrie knew the feeling. Never being a size zero in her life, she struggled with her own self image. Until the moment she put on her first piece of lingerie. She thought it funny how an item made of so little fabric could make her so comfortable in her own skin. Carrie was a normal, healthy twenty-something woman who liked her curves and embraced the meat that stuck to her bones. With the opportunity to carve out her own legacy in the lingerie business, she vowed to never see that defeated face again.
Carrie configured her own type of stocking–a stocking that had extra wide lace at the top and sat a little higher on the thigh. Those two simple changes made a dramatic difference in how the extra padding on the leg was distributed. The decision to custom design pieces also worked to a woman’s advantage because having lingerie perfectly altered to fit their body seriously decreased the possibility of unwanted bulges and bumps.
Carrie wanted to specialize in designing and fitting brides for their wedding night lingerie. Which made the National Bridal Show the best showcase for her talent. The selection of bridal lingerie was so generic, and stores would pass anything off in the color white as wedding suitable. But every bride was unique. They got to choose every detail for the wedding from flowers to music–why not include lingerie? Carrie had already fitted and designed for over twenty brides in the Toronto area. She hoped in the future that she would have one bride scheduled for every week of the year.
She still couldn’t believe that Satin & Lace was all hers. That she was the owner. Not that the circumstances were the best. Violet, her boss and the original owner, had promoted Carrie to manager when her husband got sick. For two years he’d battled cancer and Violet left the store in Carrie’s hands. Late last year, after her husband’s passing, Violet sold the store to Carrie for an excellent price. She couldn’t turn it down. Built-in customer base, prime location, and a chance for her to design and showcase her own work.
Carrie was on her hands and knees searching through a container when the light above dimmed. A shadow cast over the room, and the delicious scent of tomato sauce and even more delicious man filled the small space. Aleks.
“Hey, Care. I’m glad you’re home.”
She turned her body around and saw him standing in the doorway. He wore a ripped gray t- shirt with a faded logo. He had a pizza, a movie and a six-pack–of beer, not his abs.
“I have all your favorites. I thought we could have a night in.”
The bottom of his t-shirt was caught between the six-pack and his body, revealing the dark line of hair that trailed
below his waistline. Her desire did nothing to impede the teenage fluster that grabbed hold of her tongue. Even though the urge to smooth her hands and mouth over that coarse hair burned inside her, even though she’d promised herself she would do everything in her power to seduce him, tonight was not the night. Her livelihood took precedence at this moment.
“Aleks, you know I’ve got stuff to do.”
“You can break for a few hours, can’t you?”
That face. That sexy as fuck face broke her down. It would be the perfect night. Comfortable.
Casual. Being themselves.
“I am kind of hungry.” Her level of pathetic behavior had hit new heights. She didn’t even
put up a fight.
Aleks grinned from ear to ear then turned and headed to the coffee table. Carrie put her materials away and walked over to the couch, enjoying the view as he bent over and set down the pizza box. His hair was a little different, shorter and neater. A haircut, maybe? He handed her a beer and set one on the coffee table for himself, putting the rest in the mini fridge.
Her parents hadn’t changed the layout of the basement in years. They had upgraded the television, but the couch and coffee table remained the same. The lamps that sat on the end tables dated back two decades. The only difference was the addition of a pool table Aleks brought with him when he moved in.
“Pineapple, bacon and garlic, thin crust, beer and Spaceballs,” he said with a grin a mile wide. He knew her too well. Those were her favorites.
This felt like a date. This was exactly like a date. Alone, movie rental, food and a bed in the next room. Definitely a date.
“What’s wrong, Care Bear? Why so glum?”
She wasn’t feeling glum, just a little stressed, and now completely awkward. They had done this a million times, so why was this time different? “Just thinking.”
“Always thinking. I think every once in while you need to shut your brain off and take a risk.” “Really? Is that what I need to do?”