Phoenix Burning(48)

She double-checked the address. It was definitely the right house. She took the front steps one at a time, eyeing the ancient rocking chairs on the porch. She could not picture Alex kicking back in one of those. A big overstuffed chair, maybe, but not a rocker.

The front door was open behind an ancient screen door. “Alex?”

“In here.”

In where? She stepped inside the dimly lit entryway.

She couldn’t possibly be in the right house. Yet the number on the mailbox was right, and Alex’s voice had urged her inside. The place looked as if it belonged to a couple in their eighties. The furniture was covered in floral fabric that hadn’t been trendy since the seventies. The wallpaper had been pulled from the same design scheme. Heavy damask curtains let in only a sliver of natural light.

Stepping around an umbrella stand, she moved farther into the room. Knickknacks cluttered every available flat surface. Dogs, cats, cows, roosters—some shaped like salt and pepper shakers, and some cavorting in playfully frozen poses. They were dusty.

She sneezed.

“Emory?”

He was lounging against a doorframe between the front room and what must’ve been the kitchen. Long, lean, and sexy as hell, Alex had a body built for sin. He did not look as if he belonged to this place.

“What is this place?” She picked her way closer.

He restlessly rubbed his curly blond hair. “It was my parents’ place. They left it to me. I’ve just never…”

The sentence was left to hang there between them. She didn’t need him to expand. He’d never really claimed the space. That much was obvious. “If this place is anything to go by, I’m way too young for your taste.”

There was a moment where she wasn’t certain he got her humor at all, and then he snorted and let loose a laugh that made her belly clench and her pussy wet. It didn’t matter what this man did, it turned her on. He’d done so much for her. He’d accepted her. She looked around at the house that was so obviously not Alex and wondered how she could return the favor.

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.” Alex’s voice was pensive.

Considering what the place looked like, she didn’t have any trouble believing him. And yet the idea that he’d never once shared a part of himself with any of his lovers was staggering. She took a deep breath, needing but not wanting to know the truth. “Do you only have sex in the bar?”

“Anywhere but here. In the bar, cars, homes, a few hotels, a couple of rather public places I shouldn’t have—you name it and I’ve probably had sex in or around it.” His wry tone told her more than he probably realized.

She could have been mad about such a blunt disclosure. She didn’t like the thought of him spending endless nights bringing pleasure to a whole string of nameless, faceless women, but she’d known it was the truth. She’d known before she opened herself to him. Before she’d fallen so hard for this ultimate player. “Why now?”

He pushed away from the wall and took a slow turn about the living room. “You’re different, Emory. I knew it from the beginning. What I couldn’t anticipate was how much you’d change me.”

Pain lanced through her middle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate your life. I just thought—you’ve done so much for me.”

“I’ve done so much?” He whipped around and pegged her with a long look that made her feel as if he’d ripped every stitch of clothing off her body. “I couldn’t even manage to help you climax. Some master lover I turned out to be.”

“Didn’t you once tell me it isn’t about orgasms?” She scraped together every ounce of boldness she could muster and sauntered toward him as if she were sex on a stick. “Do I bring you pleasure?”

“Of course you do.”

She ran her fingernails lightly down the front of his T-shirt. When she reached his waistband, she paused. “You bring me more pleasure than I ever imagined possible.”

“Do I.”

Not a statement. Not a question. Yet his tone made everything below her belly clench hard with desire. She went from mildly aroused to desperate in one scorching moment.

Emory launched herself at Alex with a hunger she was tired of denying. He caught her, holding her against his chest as she kissed him with an open mouth and more daring than she’d ever thought possible.

Their teeth clicked as she drank him in. She wound her fingers into the hair at his nape. Her fear and inhibitions were forgotten. The darkness didn’t matter anymore. This man was all that mattered. She kissed him until her lungs burned for want of air. His taste permeated every cell until she was all but trying to crawl inside his skin.