So, when Alejandra walks through the door of the penthouse after spending the day doing something I explicitly told her not to do with the matriarch of our family, I’m aching for a fight. (I may have also had to put out more than one work fire today and that’s put me in a bad mood, too.)
“Hi!” she says, meeting my gaze from across the room.
I stagger back, knocked for a loop. I swear she brought sunshine inside with her, a halo of light brightening her beautiful face.
“Guess what I did today with your grandmother?”
I blink away her heavenly beauty and cheerful voice and remember I’m pissed. “I don’t need to guess. I know.”
Alejandra stops walking toward me. Frowns. My tone left no room for misunderstanding. She looks out the window behind me, hurt replacing joy. Without another word, she spins around to leave.
“Do not walk away.”
She spares a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not. I’m getting the last piece of lemon meringue pie.” She opens the refrigerator door, pulls out the pie.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I don’t like lemon meringue pie when she was sweet enough to tell me she’d saved me a piece, but my heart has left the building so… “Good. I don’t like it anyway. It’s my least favorite pie.”
“I don’t know what crawled up your butt, but it’s very unattractive.” She lifts a fork out of the utensil drawer, doesn’t bother with a plate, and leans against the counter to eat her pie.
“I told you not to go bungee jumping with my grandmother.” I’m fully aware I’m acting like a petulant child, but I don’t care. Who does she think she is, risking my grandmother’s safety?
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you told me not to tell her I wanted to add some adventure to my life. Something that gives me an adrenaline rush. And then you said she’d been bugging you to go bungee jumping with her for her birthday.”
I stride across the suite to close the space between us and stand my ground across the counter from her. She swallows a bite of pie then licks the fork. In slow motion. Savoring the crumbs left behind. Her tongue slides under the prongs, then she flips the fork to glide her tongue over the top of the prongs. Her innate talent for turning the mundane into something sexy sends my mind straight to the gutter. I imagine her licking me. Taking my cock in her hand and licking me from base to tip, then sucking me off.
“For your information, your grandmother called me. She invited me to spend the day with her. She didn’t tell me what we were doing until we were almost there so I had no choice in the matter.” She points her fork at me. “So there.”
“You should have stopped her then.” I adjust my pants, grateful for the countertop between us.
Alejandra stabs the pie with her fork. “Eres un idiota! You’re being such a jerk. I should not have stopped her. She is her own person and can make her own decisions. No one likes being told what to do, Drew. I just had one of the most exciting days of my life with an amazing woman, who also had an unforgettable time, and you’re ruining it with your control freak issues.”
“I’m not a control freak.”
“That’s what all control freaks say.”
“Wanting to keep my grandmother safe does not make me a control freak. I care about my family. I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”
“Like it did you?” she says, voice lowered.
For the second time since she walked into the room, I stagger back, only this time it doesn’t feel good. It feels shitty and stifling. I pull at the collar of my shirt, my neck hot. I hate that Miranda left a mark on me I can’t seem to erase completely.
“Drew.” Alejandra hurries around the counter, hoists herself to sit atop it so we’re eye level, and then pulls me between her legs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I’m not sure ‘upset’ is the right word. Stunned, maybe. No, that’s not right either. Seen. That’s how I feel. Alejandra cut through my suit, my skin, and my vital organs, to my soul. The fight in me diminishes. She’s right. I do give orders. I like to be in charge. I don’t leave much—if any—room for negotiation. If I’m in command I can protect myself and those I care about.
“You care with your whole heart and that’s admirable,” she says. “But your grandmother doesn’t want to be ordered to avoid something because of her age or risk factors. She won’t listen anyway.”
“That’s true,” I murmur.
“She’s made of tough stuff.” Alejandra cups my cheek. “So are you. I can say that since I’m one of only two people who knows about she who shall not be named or thought about ever again. Entendido?”
I raise my brows.
“Got it?”
This woman never gives up on anyone. Her faith and compassion are wildly attractive.
“Got it.” I catch her wrist as she drops her arm away from my face. “And I’m sorry for being a jerk.” I kiss the back of her hand.
“A big jerk.”
“A big jerk,” I agree.
“Apology accepted.”
“Is it?” I turn her hand over and gently kiss her palm. “Because if you wanted to hold it against me, I’d be more than willing to earn your forgiveness.” I place my hand on her leg, grazing my fingers along the inside of her thigh.
“What, uh, did you have in mind?” Her breathy voice tells me she’s on board with me working for it.
“Starting here…” I touch her mouth with the pad of my pointer finger then slide it around her chin, down her neck, to the top of her breastbone. I pause there. Her eyes—sparking with heat and approval—stay steady on mine. There’s no evidence of indecision. No doubt. With her wordless go-ahead, I resume my mission, drawing my finger lower, between her breasts, over her stomach, to the button of her jeans.
“…And finishing inside here,” I conclude.
Her chest rises and falls. Her eyelashes flutter. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
She makes me wait for the longest second of my life. “Yes.”
“I was really hoping you’d say that.” I unfasten the button.
“Hey. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? I was promised—”
I take her face in my hands and crash my mouth against hers. She squeaks in surprise, and we share a split-second smile before our lips get down to business. This kiss is not like our first one. This kiss is insistent, reckless. Wild. Alejandra is soft and warm under my palms, under my mouth. She curls her hands in my shirt to bring me closer, to lock her legs around my hips. I lick the seam of her lips, leading her to open for me so I can take the kiss deeper. Kissing her like this is better than I imagined.
A sexy sound comes from the back of her throat as our tongues tangle and duel. Warmth invades my body. My dick grows impossibly hard. This sexy, kind, smart woman who was reluctant to date me at the start, is now kissing me back with enthusiasm I feel everywhere.
And not just physically. Alejandra’s kiss surpasses every single one I’ve had before this. My blood is on fire. My head is in the clouds. My feelings are magnified. She is everything pure in this world. She sees beyond my prominent name and business suits to the man I am underneath.
I slant my mouth over hers to change our angle, to explore with longer, slower strokes of my tongue. I kiss her until I’m in danger of coming in my pants. Then I run my thumbs over her delicate cheekbones and step back.
Her legs fall away from my hips. She releases a shaky breath. I take a minute to admire her. Her well-kissed, wide mouth, lips slightly parted. Her heavy-lidded almond-shaped eyes. Light brown satiny skin so pretty and feminine, it’s like looking at a work of art.
I slide my finger over her lower lip, then drop down to the words on her adorable T-shirt. I trace each letter—every single one. She sucks in a breath now, her gaze on the movement of my hand as I track across, over, and under her tits, spending an extra second or two around her rigid nipples. I can’t wait to strip her naked, discover
what color those nipples are, feel the weight of each round breast in my hands as I play with and knead them. Next time. This time I’m going for driving her wild without undressing her completely.
I’m doing a pretty good job so far if her shallow breathing and wiggle is any indication.
Before she wiggles off the counter, I unzip her pants. She lifts her bottom so I can pull her jeans down. I make quick work of ridding her of her shoes and socks and tossing them over my shoulder before I slip her body free of the denim and then look my fill. Her limbs are long. Her skin smooth. I’ve seen her legs uncovered before but seeing them like this, bare while she sits on the edge of the kitchen counter waiting for me to taste between them, is something else.
“Drew,” she whispers. “Please stop looking and start doing.”
“Are you wet for me already, Alejandra?”
Her eyes widen. Interesting. I grab the thick dish towel that’s within reach and slide it under her bottom so she’s more comfortable.
“Are you dripping with anticipation of having me lick and suck you until you come on my tongue?”
Lust sparkles back at me.
“Fall apart on my face?”
She squirms. Grips the edge of the counter as her legs fall open. “Yes.”
The small triangle of material covering her is pale yellow. A small strip of dark curls is visible through the thin fabric. It takes all my willpower not to rip them off her and show her just how out of control I can be. Instead, I toy with the string at her hip.
“Do you like to be fingered at the same time you’re being tasted?”
“Yes.”
“One finger or two?”
“Surprise me.”
Jesus. Every word out of her mouth turns me on more than the last one. I love how uninhibited she is. Candid. Honest.
“Now, Drew. Before I take matters into my own hands.”
My dick is about to break through my zipper at that impatient announcement. “Would you really, Al?”
“Drew!”
I nudge her panties to the side.
“You’re not going to take them off?” she asks, a restless edge to her voice.
“Nope. There’s something forbidden about leaving them on, don’t you think?”
“Drew, this isn’t—”
She doesn’t get to finish that thought because my mouth is on her. Lips, tongue, I latch on. She immediately bucks against me, runs her fingers through my hair. She tastes so good I’m going to eat her out until she can’t take it anymore. Until her juices no longer coat my face and her sexy body goes limp.
“Oh my God, that feels so good,” she croons.
It’s about to feel even better. I finger her opening. Rub her wetness around her folds then slide slowly inside. She’s tight and warm and when I touch the right spot, she lets go of my head to slap her hands down on the counter.
I devour her with my mouth. Suck and lick. Fill her with a second finger. She about flies off the counter, but I’ve got her. With my free arm around her thigh, she’s under my ministrations and my protection.
A harsh cry accompanies her first orgasm. I taste and finger her through her climax and then I change my angle, withdraw my fingers, and keep going.
“Drew,” she pants.
It’s not, Drew, I’m a one and done girl. It’s Drew, you sex god, make me come again.
To make sure she gets her point across, she palms the back of my head to keep me in place. No problem, gorgeous, having you come apart again will be my pleasure.
I drag my tongue through her slickness, happy to exist between her legs for as long as she needs. There’s no other place I’d rather be than right here, buried in Alejandra’s most intimate spot.
She moans, the sultry sound filling the air around us. Feeling, seeing, and hearing her turned on has me hornier than I’ve ever been. I grip underneath both her thighs and push her knees up, spreading her wider. Giving me more to see and taste. Her hands slip free of my head and she hooks a finger in her underwear to keep it from getting in the way. Then she sweeps the pie out of the way with her other arm and falls onto her back. I’m vaguely aware of the pie hitting the floor somewhere.
I slant my head to taste her more deeply. She arches her back off the counter and I regret not stripping her shirt and bra off her. She is so fucking sexy, curving and bending in pleasure, her knees practically at her ears, while I work to bring her a second release.
My pants feel two sizes too small. My skin hotter than Hades. Alejandra pushes against my face. I pull. She pushes. I pull. “Don’t stop,” she whisper-sighs. “I’m so close.”
The hotel could be falling down around us and I wouldn’t stop. I’m laser focused on lashing her with my tongue and brushing my lips across her sensitive skin. I’m addicted to you, Alejandra.
She calls out my name this time, when she comes. I continue my onslaught until she presses her knees down and wiggles away from my reach. Her shirt slides up, exposing her midriff. To my surprise, there’s another tiny tattoo on her hip bone. This one two interlinking hearts.
I straighten and stare down at her. With her legs dangling off the counter, her arms spread wide, and her face pointed to the ceiling she says, “I’m dead.”
“Took you to heaven did I?”
She cracks one eye open. “Maybe.”
I grin. I absolutely did. “Let me help you up.” I get her to a sitting position with one hand on her lower back, the other holding her elbow. “You doing okay?” A hard countertop isn’t the most comfortable spot to lie down on and I silently scold myself. Next time will be more luxurious.
“Yes, but…” She looks to her left, to the upturned pie box on the floor. “It looks like my pie isn’t.”
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“Two orgasms and pie. You are completely forgiven.” She glances down at the obvious bulge in my pants. “Need a hand with that?”
I slowly step away from temptation. It takes strength I didn’t know I had, but tonight wasn’t about me. “While I’d love your hands on me, this time was about you and an in-depth apology.” I pick up her jeans, pass them to her.
Our fingers brush on the hand-off as she slips down from the counter. “Thanks.” She doesn’t put them on like I was hoping. Nope. She stands there in her T-shirt and scrap of underwear, with her flushed cheeks and tousled hair, torturing me. “Pretty confident of you, thinking there’s going to be a next time.”
“Al, there are going to be many more next times.”
Chapter Fourteen
Third Date
Alejandra
Is it next time yet?
This question is way more troublesome than ‘Are we there yet?’
It’s been six days since Drew kissed me then buried his face between my legs. Did he not say there would be multiple more times? Does he not know I’ve been on edge? Waiting and hoping.
I close my book and sigh all dramatic-like for the empty room. I can’t concentrate on a single word knowing he will be walking through the door any minute to have dinner with me. My abuela’s stew is cooking on the stovetop. The table is set for two. I haven’t made asopao in over a year, and I hope Drew enjoys it. I glance over at the flickering candlelight. I found two taper candles in the cupboard so I put them on the table between our plates.
It’s our official third date tonight.
We’ve both been crazy busy with work this week. I’m desperately trying to come up with a plan to save the senior center. Silent auction? Casino night? Raffle? Crowdfunding? But nothing is meeting with approval for one reason or another. Drew and his marketing team are trying to come up with something to ‘wow’ hotel guests and make The Surfeit the hotel on everyone’s mind.
I walk to the kitchen to stir the stew, putting my book down on the counter. I have very fond memories of this counter. In fact, I’ll never be able to look at a kitchen counter the same way again. My cheeks heat and it has nothing to do with the steam rising from the pot on the stove.
“It smells amazing in here.”
I jump at Drew’s announcement. I didn’t hear him come in, so lost in imagining his mouth on me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He puts his hands on my waist, kisses the back of my neck. “I didn’t know you were cooking.”
Tingles shoot across my shoulders and down my arms. His lips are warm. His voice low. Powerful. “I thought you might like to stay in. This is a special recipe of my abuela’s.”
“Alejandra,” he whispers against my ear. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I lay the large wooden spoon back on a paper towel.
He turns my body to face his. Today’s dark suit is paired with a white shirt and pale yellow tie. A five-o’clock shadow lines his jaw and circles his full lips. Fathomless blue-green pools of intelligence and warmth stare down at me. I wish I could say for certain I knew where our relationship was going, but I can’t. In the meantime, it won’t stop me from enjoying right now.
From being the carefree girl I didn’t allow myself to be growing up.
That I care for Drew a great deal makes it that much more thrilling.
“How much longer does it need to cook?” he asks.
“It’s ready whenever we are. A little longer definitely won’t hurt.” You know, in case you want to Next Time.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I thought you might.”
“Oh, you think you know me, do you?”
“A little.”
“It’s more than a little, Al,” he says with reverence. But before I get a chance to enjoy his admiration, he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! Put me down!”
“I will.”
“Drew! Please.”
He laughs. “Was the ‘please’ supposed to make me listen to you?” He carries me toward his room. Okay, so maybe I don’t mind where this is headed.
“I can’t help my good manners,” I say honestly. I’m the kind of girl who even when I’m alone and I burp I say ‘excuse me.’
Hot Shot (American Royalty Book 3) Page 14