Only Ali was.
Sasha was utterly different from Allison. The model had embodied all the usual traits he looked for in a partner. And yet, he hadn’t felt a drop of lust when he’d seen her. She’d done everything right, but his mind was on another.
Allison had looked at him with such accusation, and it had burned him. Branded him. From the moment the door closed behind her all that had mattered was finding her and making things right.
His fingers found the zipper of her dress, itching to tug it down.
“Upstairs,” he said.
“I like your style.”
Grabbing her hand, he turned blindly for the door. He raced up the stairs in record time, unable to wait until he could see her laid out on his bed, naked for his view.
“Someone’s eager,” she teased as he waltzed her backward into his room.
If only she knew. He still didn’t understand how to normalize the feelings that had sent him racing out into the night after her.
Never before had he tracked down a lover. He’d never been reduced to begging favors from her friends in order to say his peace. Were it anyone else, he would have gone home with only a twinge of conscience. But because it was Allison, he’d gone out of his way to find her. To set the record straight. Because of all the people who hated him at any given moment, he never wanted Ali to be among their numbers.
And so he’d waited outside a bar. An unprecedented action in his universe. All the while his mind had been filled with images of other men pawing his Ali. He’d been reduced to wondering if she was laughing with some other man. Kissing some other man. The thoughts had been enough to make him see red even when he knew he had no right to intrude on her night. But this was all uncharted territory for him. He hadn’t ever been the one in a relationship who chased after a lover. If they didn’t return his desires, he shrugged and moved on.
But there was no moving on from Allison.
The zipper slid freely down her back, nearly splitting the skintight dress in two.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as the material parted to reveal a red bra.
“I was dressed to impress.”
Except she hadn’t known he’d show up. Which meant she’d been dressed to impress someone other than him.
He ripped the dress free of her body without another thought.
“Seriously?” she charged. “What am I going to go home in?”
“Sounds like a tomorrow problem.” He pushed her back against the bed, climbing over her.
“Anyone else might think the great Darian King was jealous,” she said, twining her arms above her head.
Jealous? Not likely. He didn’t participate in such base emotions. He lived for the next score, be it a high on making a deal in the boardroom or wooing a beautiful woman to the bedroom.
He didn’t worry about who else had touched the woman under him. The idea of someone else laying hands on her smooth skin didn’t make him enraged.
“You’re mine,” he growled before he could call back the words.
She stared up at him with those eyes that saw too much. “I am,” she agreed, a capitulation that warmed his heart. “For the moment.”
He bared his teeth. It was an eventuality he didn’t like to think about.
“But for tonight”—her hand cupped his face—“show me what you want.”
That was an easy enough question to answer. “You,” he breathed. “I just want you.”
With one hand he pinned her wrists above her head. Her swift inhale gratified him as he pushed her bra up, revealing her breasts to his gaze. So perfect.
His mouth descended, capturing a perk nipple with his tongue.
“Darian,” she moaned, struggling against his hold.
Yes, that was what he craved. His should be the only name on her lips.
Yet when he moved up to look in her eyes, there was something far more intimate lying in their chocolate depths. Something that went beyond mutual pleasure. Something he was loath to throw away.
Wrists free, she leaned up, forcing him back. Eyes on his, she reached around and undid the clasp of her bra, stripping the material from her body.
Leaning back on her elbows, she raked her eyes over him.
“Unfair,” she purred. “You’re fully clothed.”
He could easily remedy that.
Pushing to his feet, he gripped his shirt and tugged it over his head.
Allison watched his every move, appearing ever confident, despite the fact she only wore a pair of tiny panties.
His finger flew to his belt, undoing it with haste. He pulled down his zipper and kicked free of the trousers encasing his legs.
“Much better,” she purred as he hooked his fingers around the waist of his boxers. With a tug they joined the rest of his clothing on the floor.