I fight to stay in control, kissing lower, reaching to cup and stroke across her perfect br**sts. Alicia lets out a moan, so I stroke again, finding her ni**les hard as buds beneath her dress. Damn, I need to taste her, now, so I yank down the neckline and take one in my hand, licking and sucking on the tender flesh until she’s whimpering, head thrown back, red hair fanned across the couch cushion.
She’s so f**king beautiful, I could watch her for days.
“Dex?” Alicia opens her eyes. I’ve stopped, poised above her, watching the ecstasy on her face.
“Sorry, darlin’,” I murmur, reaching to stroke her nipple again. She inhales in a rush. “I shouldn’t be neglecting you.”
Alicia looks down at my hand and blushes. I can see her brain waking up again, realizing where she is, what she’s doing, so I lower my head and claim those ripe lips again, kissing hard and deep until she’s moaning in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist, pressing against my crotch, and damn, the fire races through my bloodstream. Hungry. Demanding.
I groan, sliding my hand up her soft thigh. Oh God, she feels so good. I reach higher, already panting, but this time, her body tenses. “Dex,” she whispers, but instead of desire, I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
“What’s wrong?” I lift my head to look at her, still tracing slow circles on the outside of her bare leg. Her skirt is pushes up around her hips, and Lord, I’m so close, so close to the heaven she’s hiding between those creamy thighs.
Alicia bites her lip. “I don’t know...” she murmurs. “I just... this is all happening so fast.”
I stifle a cry of frustration. Fast? I’ve had women naked, on their knees before we even left the concert venue. But Alicia is looking at me with worry clouding those hazel eyes, and I feel an unfamiliar emotion crash over me.
Guilt.
“I’m sorry.” I remove my hand and carefully smooth her skirt down again. I roll to the side, propping myself on one elbow so her body is lying next to me, not touching. “We can take this as slow as you need. We’ve got all night.”
Relief floods her features. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, blushing. “I know it’s weird, I just... I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Gone home with a devastatingly sexy stranger,” I tease, trying to make her smile again.
Alicia stifles a grin. “Yes. The stranger part,” she clarifies.
“Sure, that’s what you mean.” I wink.
“I feel like such an idiot.” She turns to bury her face in the couch cushion. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Hey.” I touch her gently. “It’s OK.”
“It’s just, I’m screwing this up.” She lifts her head, looking at me with confusion in her eyes. “I wanted to come with you, I kissed you back, and now... Now I don’t know what’s stopping me.”
I don’t know either, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to beat herself up like this.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She blinks. “What?”
“Hungry,” I say again. I sit up, lifting her legs so they’re resting across my lap. “I was so damn distracted, I didn’t eat a thing at the party.”
“Me neither,” Alicia says. As she tugs her dress back into place, her stomach lets out a rumble. “Oh my god!” She blushes.
I laugh. “Food it is.”
7.
ALICIA
Dex holds out his hands to me, and I take them, getting to my feet. The feel of his touch, warm against me, makes me want to pull him right back down on the couch and pick up where we left off, but he’s already strolling towards the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks.
You, I want to reply. If we could rewind five minutes to before I freaked the hell out and ruined everything.
“I don’t know...” I say instead. I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens up the fridge. “You cook?” I ask, surprised, as he rifles through the groceries inside.
“I try.” Dex gives a wry grin. “I spent years on tour eating nothing but junk food and takeout, so after I quit, one of the first things I did was learn my way around a kitchen.” He pulls out tomatoes. “Pasta OK with you?” he asks. “I can do a spicy arrabbiata.”
“Sounds delicious.”
I hop up on a stool by the kitchen island counter. Dex fetches some white wine for the sauce, and pours me a glass. I sip it, glad of the distraction, and watch as he puts some water on to boil and assembles the ingredients.
He’s acting so casual, as if nothing’s wrong at all. I wish I could be so cool. My heart is still pounding from our kisses on the couch, and I can’t believe I put the brakes on like that.
Everything was perfect. More than perfect: hot, and raw, and sexy as hell, until...
Until you remembered you’re practically a virgin.
I stifle a sigh. It’s so stupid. Here I am, a twenty-three year-old woman with her own business, credit cards, and lease on a beautiful apartment in the old part of town, and my sole experience with a guy is some drunken fumble my freshman year of college. Calling it my first time would be generous; if I’m not a virgin, it’s a technicality, for sure.
You waited too long, the voice in my head taunts me. He’s going to think you’re a freak when he realizes you have no idea what you’re doing.
“Chop this.” Dex’s voice breaks through my spiral of insecurity. He pushes a board and some vegetables over to me, so I get down and do as instructed. But still, I can’t take my eyes off him. The way he moves around the galley kitchen, there’s a grace to it: an undisguised power and certainty in every gesture as he stirs, chops, tastes.
She’s so f**king beautiful, I could watch her for days.
“Dex?” Alicia opens her eyes. I’ve stopped, poised above her, watching the ecstasy on her face.
“Sorry, darlin’,” I murmur, reaching to stroke her nipple again. She inhales in a rush. “I shouldn’t be neglecting you.”
Alicia looks down at my hand and blushes. I can see her brain waking up again, realizing where she is, what she’s doing, so I lower my head and claim those ripe lips again, kissing hard and deep until she’s moaning in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist, pressing against my crotch, and damn, the fire races through my bloodstream. Hungry. Demanding.
I groan, sliding my hand up her soft thigh. Oh God, she feels so good. I reach higher, already panting, but this time, her body tenses. “Dex,” she whispers, but instead of desire, I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
“What’s wrong?” I lift my head to look at her, still tracing slow circles on the outside of her bare leg. Her skirt is pushes up around her hips, and Lord, I’m so close, so close to the heaven she’s hiding between those creamy thighs.
Alicia bites her lip. “I don’t know...” she murmurs. “I just... this is all happening so fast.”
I stifle a cry of frustration. Fast? I’ve had women naked, on their knees before we even left the concert venue. But Alicia is looking at me with worry clouding those hazel eyes, and I feel an unfamiliar emotion crash over me.
Guilt.
“I’m sorry.” I remove my hand and carefully smooth her skirt down again. I roll to the side, propping myself on one elbow so her body is lying next to me, not touching. “We can take this as slow as you need. We’ve got all night.”
Relief floods her features. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, blushing. “I know it’s weird, I just... I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Gone home with a devastatingly sexy stranger,” I tease, trying to make her smile again.
Alicia stifles a grin. “Yes. The stranger part,” she clarifies.
“Sure, that’s what you mean.” I wink.
“I feel like such an idiot.” She turns to bury her face in the couch cushion. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Hey.” I touch her gently. “It’s OK.”
“It’s just, I’m screwing this up.” She lifts her head, looking at me with confusion in her eyes. “I wanted to come with you, I kissed you back, and now... Now I don’t know what’s stopping me.”
I don’t know either, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to beat herself up like this.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She blinks. “What?”
“Hungry,” I say again. I sit up, lifting her legs so they’re resting across my lap. “I was so damn distracted, I didn’t eat a thing at the party.”
“Me neither,” Alicia says. As she tugs her dress back into place, her stomach lets out a rumble. “Oh my god!” She blushes.
I laugh. “Food it is.”
7.
ALICIA
Dex holds out his hands to me, and I take them, getting to my feet. The feel of his touch, warm against me, makes me want to pull him right back down on the couch and pick up where we left off, but he’s already strolling towards the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks.
You, I want to reply. If we could rewind five minutes to before I freaked the hell out and ruined everything.
“I don’t know...” I say instead. I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens up the fridge. “You cook?” I ask, surprised, as he rifles through the groceries inside.
“I try.” Dex gives a wry grin. “I spent years on tour eating nothing but junk food and takeout, so after I quit, one of the first things I did was learn my way around a kitchen.” He pulls out tomatoes. “Pasta OK with you?” he asks. “I can do a spicy arrabbiata.”
“Sounds delicious.”
I hop up on a stool by the kitchen island counter. Dex fetches some white wine for the sauce, and pours me a glass. I sip it, glad of the distraction, and watch as he puts some water on to boil and assembles the ingredients.
He’s acting so casual, as if nothing’s wrong at all. I wish I could be so cool. My heart is still pounding from our kisses on the couch, and I can’t believe I put the brakes on like that.
Everything was perfect. More than perfect: hot, and raw, and sexy as hell, until...
Until you remembered you’re practically a virgin.
I stifle a sigh. It’s so stupid. Here I am, a twenty-three year-old woman with her own business, credit cards, and lease on a beautiful apartment in the old part of town, and my sole experience with a guy is some drunken fumble my freshman year of college. Calling it my first time would be generous; if I’m not a virgin, it’s a technicality, for sure.
You waited too long, the voice in my head taunts me. He’s going to think you’re a freak when he realizes you have no idea what you’re doing.
“Chop this.” Dex’s voice breaks through my spiral of insecurity. He pushes a board and some vegetables over to me, so I get down and do as instructed. But still, I can’t take my eyes off him. The way he moves around the galley kitchen, there’s a grace to it: an undisguised power and certainty in every gesture as he stirs, chops, tastes.
