And fuck it all, I’m right where I want me, too.
I want her. I’m not going to let myself have her, of course, but I’m lying to us both if I pretend I want her to go to bed.
I want her to drop that dress and then come over here and climb me like a tree. I want her in my arms, hot and needy and innocent and wet…
I’m closer again. But I don’t touch her.
I’m not going to touch her.
I grasp for…something, anything. What comes out is completely wrong. It’s like I’m watching myself swallow the hook. “That goes without saying.”
“That you’d be in charge?” she asks, her voice breathy and seductive. “And that it would be good, as long as I do what I’m told?”
“You wanna play some kind of Lolita game, Ali?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s even more the wrong thing to say. Way worse, really, because instead of letting myself be reeled in, I’ve yanked too hard on the rod. I wanted to stop this, and now I have, by insulting her.
She stiffens, her shoulder blades pulling tight as if she regrets giving me that slice of her bare back. The temperature in the room drops ten degrees.
She glares at me. “I’m a twenty-year-old woman and it’s my birthday. I don’t know what your problem is, but that I’m young and sexy can’t be it. And I don’t fetishize myself, you asshole. I won’t be shamed for hitting on you when I’m not doing anything wrong.”
I don’t have a good answer to that. But I can’t stand here and say nothing, so I offer, again, the lame truth. “We can’t happen.”
“Fine. I apologize for wanting in your pants.” When she goes to turn, it’s slow, like she doesn’t want to give me that slice of her back again.
I should accept it. I should let her go.
I shouldn’t cross the space between us and slide my hand around her arm, spinning her back against me.
I shouldn’t stare into her eyes and wonder how the hell I held out so long. Definitely shouldn’t lower my mouth to hers and kiss her.
But that’s exactly what I do.
And it’s fucking worth it.
—five—
Alison
I’m still thinking he’s going to chide me and send me to bed like a petulant child when he pulls me into his arms and his mouth comes down on mine. His hands slide into my hair and hold my head in place as he kisses me hard, then soft, then hard again when I whimper and open for him.
All I can think is, “Oh my God, he smells so good,” and then, “Wow, he tastes even better,” before my heart is racing too fast for individual thoughts to make sense.
The testiness of our…fight? Was it a fight? It was something, and it was ugly, but it’s all gone now. Poof. Because Scott’s kissing me like I’ve wanted him to for months. Months. His tongue is teasing mine, his lips are softer than I’d imagined, and so much better for it, and his hands are everywhere.
He squeezes my hips first, then my waist, and then—
I gasp into his mouth as his palm covers my breast through the loose fabric of my dress, his thumb finding my nipple with unerring confidence.
He freezes, and that just won’t do. I wind my arms around his neck and push up onto my toes, pressing my flesh into his hand at the same time, and he kisses me again, deeper this time.
Yes, yes, yes please.
His mouth is hot and tastes like chocolate. His tongue slides against mine again, deeper, faster, and with each stroke he lights something dangerous inside me. Something that, once it gets burning, I’m pretty sure is going to be unstoppable.
Light me up, I think. Light me up and let me fly, because I’m so ready for you. I’ve been a good girl for so long. All my friends did this years ago, and do it regularly. But I waited until I was sure I was ready—although maybe nothing could have prepared me for this. But I waited until I knew clearly what losing control was like.
It made me a little mad that Scott thought maybe I didn’t know what the consequences of this would be.
I probably know better than he does, but I don’t need to tell him all the filthy family secrets just to hook-up with him. Since he’s Hailey’s bodyguard, he probably already knows, anyway.
Now that prickly defensiveness is fuel on the fire inside me. He didn’t think I was ready, but now he’s kissing me, and touching me, and oh yes, I’m ready.
Against my belly, I can feel his erection. On my chest, his fingertips have found bare skin, and he’s tugging down my dress.
I’m ready, and he’s—
Stopping.
This time, when he freezes it’s not for a second. He doesn’t kiss me again, no matter how close I press myself against him.
He holds me tight, but his mouth is buried in my hair now, and he’s…I can feel him locking himself down. It starts in his arms, a tightening that moves to his core. All the muscles contracting, until the only part of his body that is still good-to-go is his dick, and he’s proven time and again that he’s willing to disappoint both me and his cock, so I’m not holding out any hope for that part of him to convince the rest to get back in the kissing-and-more game.
“You’re a frustrating woman,” he whispers roughly.
“So you do think of me as a woman,” I sigh. Well, that’s a bittersweet victory.
He huffs at that, then we stand there, hugging for another long moment before he finally says quietly, “Key takeaway is that you’re frustrating.”
“I beg to differ.” I smile, because it’s my birthday, and I got cupcakes and one hell of a kiss. I refuse to see this as a failure. Rome wasn’t built in a day. “I take it you weren’t planning on kissing me?”
“I was trying to explain why we can’t happen, so…yeah. I wasn’t planning on kissing you.”
“But you did.”
“I did.”
“It was…hot.”
His grip tightens around me for a second. “Unbelievably hot. If I were any other man…”
“And I were any other woman?”
“No. You’re perfect just the way you are.” His lips dust lightly over mine, then he deepens the kiss just long enough for his tongue to brush mine. My insides flutter at the angsty hope that we might do more, but he pulls back again.
“Scott?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t. And it’s not because I don’t want you. But I won’t like myself in the morning, and neither will you.”
“I will. How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not asking for more than one night?”
His mouth tightens into a firm line. “I’m done with The Horus Group. This weekend is my last protecting Hailey.” What? I shrink back from him, first inside the circle of his arms, then he lets me go. “I should have told you earlier.”
I can’t look at him. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself, either, so it’s good that there aren’t any mirrors in my line of sight. I’m such a hypocrite. I stare over his shoulder, willing the floor to open up and swallow me whole, because I don’t want him to see me reacting like this. Like anything. I’m fine with that. I push as much indifference into my voice as I can. “Thank you for telling me before…”
He lets me trail that off. We both know what I mean. He nods gruffly. “Now you understand.”
No. I don’t. Because I still want him, still miss his mouth on mine and his arms around me. Even if it would have just been for one night, I wanted to have him.
And now he’s fading out of my life, which is his right. He was never mine to begin with.
“Go back to school, Ali. Find a nice guy who worships the ground you walk on, who will make you feel like a goddess and keep you safe.”
I huff a laugh, because the only man I trust to keep me safe is standing right in front of me. Too bad he doesn’t meet the first two criteria. “Pipe dream.”
“It’s not.” His voice is rougher than sandpaper as he stares at me. “You haven’t given it a try, have you? Have you even dated anyone your own age?”
No. I clench my jaw and stare at him. “I think you made it clear that your sex life wasn’t my business. So…ditto. None of your business, Mr. Mayfair.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. Tension is vibrating off him. “Why haven’t you?”
“Because I couldn’t!” I yell, startling both of us. He moves closer and I shake my head at him. I don’t need to be comforted. I exhale roughly. “You know how fucked up my family is. I never wanted to be like them. But I am, you know? I don’t want to date some guy from school. So I guess the apple doesn’t—”
“Stop it.” He’s closer again. Push. Pull. Yes. No. We’re the worst kind of perpetual motion machine.
I nod. We definitely need to stop it. He’s been saying it all night. I stumble backwards, moving around a barstool toward my room. “Yeah. Good night.”
“Ali…”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Thank you for the cupcakes. And the kiss. The rest of it…I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen, and I trust you will do the same.”
His jaw flexes and his eyes glitter with frustration, but he doesn’t say anything else. He just watches me back into my room.