Phoenix Burning(35)
“Sh—!” Her yelp was muffled by a large hand.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, love.”
Alex’s familiar scent washed over her senses like a balm. She had no idea what he was doing sneaking up on her when she was hiding behind a car, but the whole situation was ludicrous to begin with.
He released her mouth, and she turned to stare at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He gave her squatted position behind the car a pointed look.
“I’m hiding from Captain Downtown.”
His grin was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Her heart fluttered and her stomach flip-flopped. “I wondered about that. He came into the bar looking for you.”
Donovan MacIntyre had gone to Phoenix Rising to find her? Embarrassment warmed her cheeks.
“You must be a really hot date for him to try so hard for a follow up.”
Emory thought of the awkward evening they’d spent together at a trendy downtown restaurant several streets over. “Hardly. I think I was tongue-tied the whole time. Unfortunately, that’s the kind of woman he likes.”
“I think you could do a sexy version of tongue-tied.” His gaze lingered on her mouth, turning her brain to mush and making her pussy cream with anticipation. “In fact, I can think of several amazing things you do with your tongue.”
She didn’t know what to say to the playful banter, so she ignored it. “Is he gone?”
“No idea. I’m not paying any attention to that asshole.” Alex stood and swept her up into his arms. It was so sudden she gave a little squeak. “I’m too busy taking you back to your place so I can have my way with you.”
Chapter Eleven
Alex loved being with Emory in the peaceful quiet of her bedroom. There was something soothing about the pastel walls and feminine décor. It was as if Emory had infused the space with her own essence. He intended to spend the rest of the afternoon, evening, night, and maybe even the morning pleasing her.
“So…what now?” She fidgeted with the duvet. “Do you usually hang out naked in people’s bedrooms?”
“Not me. Do you?” Alex rolled onto his back and stacked his hands beneath his head. She was adorable when she was disgruntled. “I wouldn’t have figured you for the type. But you never really know about people…”
She swatted him with one of her throw pillows. “Ugh! You know what I mean.”
“People get too caught up in the niceties, Emory.” He thought about the social dance he watched play out almost every night in the bar. “Most of the time they make it so confusing that both parties opt out just to avoid rejection.”
“Rejection hurts. What’s wrong with avoiding it?” She lay on her belly and propped her head on her hands. She didn’t say it, but Alex knew she felt less exposed that way.
“If you spend all your time avoiding rejection, you’re also avoiding the possibility of acceptance.”
“Acceptance doesn’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.” She fiddled with the fringe on a pillow.
Her words had been delivered casually, but the meaning behind them was anything but. He didn’t have to be Freud to know she was referring to some major baggage from her past. “Nothing can guarantee you won’t get hurt.”
“Then why take a chance?”
“It’s risk versus reward, love. As in, I would risk anything for the reward of being with you.” He would have given anything to know what she was thinking behind those luminous dark eyes.
Emory wondered if he could hear the thud of her heart inside her chest. In what world had she ever imagined having a conversation about risk and reward with a naked sex god?
The black haze that had dominated her psyche for so long lingered behind a curtain of fire. It pressed and prodded, but the brilliance of Alex’s presence kept it at bay. Being with him was a soothing balm. He was stronger than the past and experienced in a way that gave her confidence.
“What are you thinking, love?” His fingers brushed her cheek.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the truth about her past. There were so many things to say about her, about Donovan MacIntyre, and about the Phoenix. None of it could overshadow the desire she felt to bask in the warmth and reassurance he gave her every time he touched her body.
“Emory, what do you want?”
“I think I’m tongue-tied again.”
Fire leaped in his blue gaze, and she knew he understood. His palm skated down her shoulder and beneath her body until he touched the sensitive skin on the underside of her breast.
She squirmed and whimpered, waiting for that exquisite moment when his fingers would brush her nipple. Her pussy grew warm and wet, anticipation danced along her spine until she was completely focused on Alex’s touch.