by Lainey Davis
Seventeen
ALICE
M y family all stares at me when I walk back inside the house. They’re sitting around watching old movies, and my sister leaps up and pulls my arm. “Alice,” she hisses, dragging me into my bedroom. “You tell me everything this instant.”
I flop down on the bed and tell her all of it, how Tim opened up to me about his mother and that kiss we shared on the bench. “Amy, it was...I’ve just never been kissed like that before.”
She throws open my closet and puts her hands on her hips. “We have to go buy you something to wear for next weekend, or you won’t get kissed like that again.”
“Shut up, jerk,” I say. But she’s right. I’ve spent the last years waitressing, cooking, or playing with my nephews. I haven’t bought a new dress in ages. Tim is always so put together, dressed in killer suits. I think about how young he is, how young he was when he started taking care of his family. He has to look like a shark in a world of salt and pepper suits who've been in the game for decades. Dress for the job you want, I guess they say. Right now, the job I want is Tim Stag's sex goddess. Giggling, Amy and I leave the house and drive to the mall, where she forces me toward the more expensive department stores.
“Alice, you’re going out with Tim Stag. You can’t look like you’re headed to a hockey game this time.” She reminds me of my higher-than-expected salary and I agree to try on a beautiful, cobalt blue dress by Kate Spade. My sister pushes me toward the low-cut, slinky dresses, but that’s just not my style. She rolls her eyes at me when I tell her I’m going with the sleeveless, boat-neck dress. “I guess he already knows he can get the milk for free,” she says. I remind her that it’s at least shorter than I feel comfortable with and we find a pair of strappy heels to go with it.
At work the next day, I’m not sure how things will go when I see Tim, but he stops by the kitchen for breakfast and I feel butterflies in my stomach just looking at him. He lets his finger linger on my hand when he takes a muffin from me, and I bite my lip, wondering how I will make it until Saturday before really touching him again.
I think he’s very busy with a lot of hockey endorsement contracts now that the season is over, because I don’t see him much all week. I hear Juniper talking about him taking his grandmother to some doctor appointments even though Ty is the one who lives with her right now. I really like that Tim makes sure his family is ok, in his own way.
I’m like some teenager in middle school, looking for him every few minutes, unable to speak when I do see him, finding ways to make sure I touch him. I spend the entire week on edge, on fire, constantly aroused and remembering the feel of him inside me, around me, kissing me. Friday afternoon, as I’m cleaning the kitchen up for the weekend, I hear someone approach from behind, and I know it’s him before I even turn around.
“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” I say, continuing to wash the dishes. I’ve got all the food put away and I couldn’t stand to be in my chef coat for another minute today, so I’m washing dishes in my tank top. Most people have gone home for the weekend already and it’s been a long, hot day in the kitchen. Despite the heat, I shiver when I feel Tim’s hands on my skin.
His breath is sweet against my cheek as he says, “I have, Alice. I can’t concentrate when I’m near you.” I swallow, relieved it’s not just me overcome by attraction. Not just me imagining something that’s not there. He starts to stroke my arms and I let the dish drop into the soapy water. I lean against the sink, unable to move.
“What’s happening, Alice? Why can’t I be near you without needing to touch you like this?” He presses his body into my back and I feel the heat of his body radiating through his tailored suit. I let my head drop back against his chest and a small moan escapes my throat when his fingertips graze against my breasts. His voice is barely audible, whispering, “I thought once I fucked you, that I could go back to normal. But I can’t get enough of you.” His breath is ragged and then his lips gently swipe the skin behind my ear. I shiver against him.
“Tim,” I say, my voice shaking, “I want you, too.” I suck in a great gulp of air and turn to face him. “But not like this. Not here at work.”
He frowns, but keeps his hands on my arms. “Tim, I’m serious.” I extract myself from his grasp and immediately miss his warmth, his touch. “What will everyone else think? This job is very important to me. My work as a chef is very important to me.”
“Alice, I don’t think my staff will like your cooking any less just because we’re--” he stops mid-sentence.
“What are we, Tim? What is this?”
His face hardens and he runs a hand through his hair, but doesn’t answer.
“You’re distant and...and bossy at work, but then you pour your heart out to me. You come to me drunk after a stressful day at work and I just--”
“You make me feel safe.” He doesn’t look at me, but reaches for my hand. He strokes the skin of my palm. “I don’t have to take care of you, Alice. And I want you.” He brings my hand to his mouth, gently licks my palm in a way I feel straight through to my core. “Very.” Lick. “Very,” he licks my wrist. “Badly.”
I feel my heart racing when he finally meets my eyes. I remember his grandmother telling me how he’s always taken care of his brothers, how his father fell apart when their mother died and Tim became the man of their family, even though he was only a teenager. Tim kept his brother in private school even when he got suspended for fighting--got Ty to focus on hockey where it was safe to let out his aggression. Tim always knew what everyone in his family needed, and now he says I am what he needs? “I make you feel safe? Me?”
He nods, still stroking my palm with his thumb, leaning against the steel counter with his other hand. I see that he’s loosened his tie, that he needs a shave. I like when he looks disheveled like this. “Come home with me, Alice,” he says, tugging me closer. And oh my, but he smells good. And feels good. Our romp in the conference room was so fast...what would it be like to spend the entire night with this man?
And then I remember. “I can’t tonight,” I tell him. “I told Juniper I’d hang out.”
“Juniper Jones?” He seems incredulous, but I nod.
“We’re friends. She’s nice. We’re going kayaking.” I start babbling again, telling him how Juniper wants me to get as excited as she does about exercising.
Finally, Tim presses a finger to my lips and says, “All right then, Alice. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” I nod. “I’ll pick you up at 6,” he says, and I don’t exhale until I’ve watched him walk around the corner.
I change in my office and walk down the bike path to meet Juniper, who has already rented a kayak for us. "You know I'm a total beginner, right?"
She smiles. "I know this isn't the Olympics, Alice. You climb up front."
Juniper steers and we slowly make our way up the river, past the baseball stadium. It's pretty cool to watch the sunset from this vantage point on the river. She starts to tell me all about how she got into rowing, how her dad was even an Olympic champion. "Rowing is basically all I have now," she says, "apart from you of course." She splashes me with her paddle.
"Come on, June. The river water is gross. And of course you have me! You were my first friend at Stag Law." Juniper explains that she caught her boyfriend with another woman and needed a new job, a new place to live. Ben from work is the brother of one of Juniper's teammates from Boston. "That's so cool how the rowers just hook you up like that. They sound like family."
"They're absolutely a family. My only family now that my dad is gone."
I smile, thinking about how I keep surrounding myself with people who understand how important it is to stick together and support your family, no matter how that family is defined. "Hey June?"
"Yeah, Al?"
"I hate this."
She laughs and we head back to the dock. Arm in arm, we walk to get Thai food while I tell her about my ideas for work next week. By the time I get home, I've completely forgotten to be ner
vous about my date tomorrow. I'm tired out from kayaking, and I drift quickly to sleep, remembering the feel of Tim's touch on my sore arms.
Eighteen
TIM
I consider using my driver, but decide I don’t want anyone else looking at Alice today. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken my Volvo XC90 for a ride, anyway, and I like the look on Alice’s brother’s face when I pull up at the Peterson house. “Nice ride, Stag,” he says.
“Safest car on the road,” I tell him, reaching behind the driver seat to grab the flowers I got for Alice.
“I know that, asshole,” he says. I shrug, straighten my collar, and adjust the flowers. Her brother nods, approving, and steps aside as I walk toward the door. I’m about to knock when he grins and shouts through the open porch window.
“Yo, Alice! Your date is here!”
I feel very much like I’m picking up a prom date when I see Alice’s nephews scramble into the living room and press their faces against the picture window. But then Alice comes outside and all other thoughts slip from my head.
“Shit, Al, you clean up nice.” Her brother is the king of the understatement, apparently. Alice is radiant. My eyes follow the blue line of the dress from her collarbones to where it stops mid-thigh, not far enough below her ass. Alice’s legs look amazing in the strappy heels she wears that bring her closer to chin-height than her usual stop at my shoulder.
I clear my throat when she catches me staring and offer the flowers. “Dahlias,” I say. “To match your eyes." When she smiles I forget her entire family is standing around watching. I feel my cock spring to life in my pants and cross my hands in front of my body as Alice turns to put the flowers in water.
She lets me put an arm around her as we walk toward the car. “Ooh,” she says. “Is this one of those Volvos where the front seat can be a baby seat?”
I cock my brow, impressed that she would know that, but she reminds me that her brother works as a mechanic. “Ry wanted my sister to get one of these when my nephew was born,” Alice says. “But it was a bit outside their price range.”
I smile and open the door for her, letting my eyes linger on her legs as she climbs inside. “Worth every penny if it keeps you safe,” I tell her, pleased to see her sink into the white leather interior. Someday, I vow, I will fuck Alice Peterson in this car.
I drive to the restaurant and she tells me about kayaking with Juniper. “My arms are sore today,” she says. “Which is surprising because I work with my hands all day, you know?”
“I’ll rub them for you later,” I tell her, sliding my hand from the gearshift to her knee. When she doesn’t resist, I decide to keep my hand there until I need to shift gears at a red light.
“How did you get this car with a manual transmission,” she asks, running her hand along the dash.
I shrug. “I imported it.”
“You imported a manual transmission Volvo whose front seat converts into a baby seat?” She looks skeptical.
I turn to look at her, returning my hand to her knee and regretting the manual transmission for the first time, since it means I frequently have to move my hand. “It’s the safest car in the world, Alice.”
She puts her hand on mine and smiles. I’m almost disappointed when we arrive at the restaurant and I have to break contact with her to hand the keys to the valet. The hostess greets us warmly as we enter--she wasn’t so friendly on the phone when I said I was coming in with just a few days’ notice, but I see that she’s guiding Alice toward a private table.
“Welcome to Cure. Mr. Stag informed us that you’d be having the tasting menu,” she says to Alice, a bit woodenly, handing Alice a card describing the six courses and their drink pairings. Alice is radiant, and not just because she’s dressed to kill. Her joy in reading over the menu is infectious, and soon Alice is explaining pickled pears and violet mustards until I’m actually excited about my food for once.
“You should come with me to all my restaurant meetings,” I tell her. “I’m usually so busy persuading the client that I barely pay attention to what I’m eating.”
She scoffs. “If you come to places like this and manage not to focus on your food, I’m not sure there’s any hope for you in this world.”
The server arrives with our first round of drinks and I raise my glass to Alice, saying, “You give me hope for a lot of things, Alice.” She tries to hide her flush behind her wine glass. “You must have noticed by now that I don’t really trust very many people. I’ve been so impressed with how you approach your work.”
Alice picks up her oyster and tells me to look at it closely. “Food,” she says, “is so much more than a group of ingredients hanging out together. It’s a family. It functions best together.” She gently prods the sauce with her finger. “If you leave out a detail, an ingredient, a step in the preparation process, it all falls to pieces. But together…” Alice slides the oyster into her mouth and, watching her swallow, I feel my pants tighten around my growing bulge. “Together, it’s perfection.” She reaches across the table to feed me my oyster and I don’t think anyone has ever done anything to turn me on more. “I’ve always just been able to see how all the details need to come together,” she says and shrugs. “It’s because my family has always focused so much on working together for the big picture.”
Nineteen
ALICE
B y the time we reach the dessert course, I’m tipsy on the excellent wine and Tim’s intense attention. He’s so direct as he tells me how much he admires everything from my work ethic to the ways my family gets along with each other...and how much he wants me. If only he knew how much that feeling is mutual! I notice that his cheeks are dark with stubble--he must have to shave twice a day if he has evening meetings--and I can see the vein in his throat pulse above the collar of his button-down shirt.
As he pays the check and calls for the valet, I’m feeling ready to just pull him into a dark alley to have my way with him. He’s so confident in this environment, telling people what to do and expecting that they’ll respond immediately. Which, of course, they do. I can tell the hostess hates that I’m going home with him. Her jaw is clenched when I smile at her, but her whole face warms when Tim tells her he’ll be sure to come again soon with Stag Law’s top clients.
The valet pulls up with Tim’s Volvo, and Tim’s hand lingers along my back as he opens the door and helps me inside. His skin leaves a trail of sparks up my back. “Where to now,” I ask him as he slides into the driver’s seat.
“Now, Alice, I’m taking you back to my apartment to fuck you properly.”
“Oh,” I say. Then I nod. I barely breathe the entire car ride. He slides into a spot in the garage and pulls me into the elevator. His mouth claims mine, his rough stubble rasping along my skin as he drags kisses along my collarbone. One hand slams the Penthouse button on the elevator while the other pulls me tight against his body. “I don’t want anyone to see,” I plead as his fingers sneak up the back of my skirt.
He growls against me, sliding his tongue into my mouth in response and I forget to worry about it. We tumble into his apartment and he picks me up, carrying me down the hall toward the room I last saw when I half dragged him to bed. God, was that only a week ago?
He throws my purse on the dresser and starts unbuttoning his shirt. I stand next to the bed, panting, and watching him undress. I am so eager to see all of him. Last time was so frenzied. I felt but couldn’t admire the perfection he hides under those tailored, designer suits. Tim’s muscles are long and lean and hard. The perfect V of his lower abs is hidden by the waist of the pants he stops unbuttoning. Tim walks toward me and says, “Turn around, Alice.”
I immediately comply, and moan softly as his fingers tease the back of my neck. He gathers and lifts my hair, searching for the zipper to the dress. Painfully slowly, he eases it down and I feel the halves of my dress peel open. “God, Alice, you are exquisite,” he says, running his hands along my skin. I feel the heat of his body against my back and I
gasp as he lowers the dress and my panties in one short tug.
He turns me around and I reach for his pants. My body yearns to be pressed against his, fully naked. He dips his dark head and takes my nipple into his mouth through the material of my bra. His tongue swirls around the needy peak and I think I’ve never felt anything as nice as this. My hands find purchase in Tim’s boxers. I wrap my fist around his hardness, loving the smooth length of him in my hand. He continues his work teasing my nipples until I can’t stand any longer.
We tumble backwards onto his bed. He feels so good lying on top of me. So solid. I move my hands to his chest, loving the powerful feel of him. Tim starts to rub his cock against my seam and I cry out. He smiles and holds my gaze, teasing me slowly. Each time I’m on the edge of exploding, he backs off, returns to my nipples. “Tim, let me come. Please!”
I beg him, desperate for release. But he shakes his head. His voice is low and I feel his chest rumble as he says, “I want you to come around my cock, Alice. I want to feel your pleasure.” I sigh as he slides into me. “You’re so wet, baby.”
“You turn me on so much,” I tell him, but then I lose my ability to speak. I wrap my legs around his waist and the angle is just right. My clit rubs against Tim as he thrusts deep inside me again and again until I’m tumbling over the edge. My orgasm rolls through my whole body in waves. He teased me for so long, my entire body is on fire. I thrash and claw at his chest, screaming his name for an eternity.
“Fuck, Alice,” he says, looking into my eyes. “You are so sexy. This is so hot.” He rests his forehead against mine, keeping me still, and after a few more hard thrusts, I feel him spill inside me.
My bones have turned to jelly. I’m practically purring as Tim slides out and pulls me against his body. I hear him murmuring soft words to me as he strokes my arm, but I’m too overstimulated, high in the afterglow of a mindblowing orgasm. I drift off into a deep sleep curled against his body.