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Authors: Christina Ross

BOOK: Annihilate Me
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“I
want you to teach me what you know.”

“Are
you sure about that?”

“I
am.”

“That
could take some time, you know?
 
And
stamina.”

“I’ve
got both.”

“I
can take you to places by barely touching you that will send you out of your
body.”

“Then
do it,” I said.
 
“Do it now.”

 
 
 
 

CHAPTER THREE

 

“You
said you wanted to touch my chest,” Alex said, licking his upper lip.
 
“Is that right?”

We
were sitting on the white leather sofa in his living room.
 
Beyond the windows that surrounded us,
the Manhattan skyline twinkled and gleamed, not unlike his turquoise eyes,
which met mine with a disarming intensity I hadn’t seen in them before.
 
He seemed different to me.
 
Almost primal.

“I
do,” I said, but as much as I did, my voice nevertheless sounded
uncertain.
 
I felt slightly
light-headed because I knew what was about to happen.
 
Having sex after so many years of waiting
wouldn’t just change my life.
 
It
also would change my relationship with Alex, and that frightened me.
 

What
if I didn’t please him in bed?
 
What
if I was too frigid, despite feeling like parts of me were on fire at that
moment?
 
He had been married before.
 
Regardless of what Blackwell said, he
must have had experiences with other women.
 
Were any of them virgins, like me?
 
I doubted it.
 
Would he be gentle?
 
Looking at him now, at the way his
unwavering stare was feasting on me, that seemed unlikely.

He
moved closer to me.
 
“Then, why
don’t you do it?
 
And why not start
by removing my tie?”

He
was close enough now that I could smell the faintest scent of his cologne,
which somehow made me want him more because, like him, it was masculine.
 
I reached out a hand to tug on his tie,
and when I did, I surprised myself when I pulled it swiftly off him, casting it
to the floor.

“That
was quick.”

“Sorry.”

“Are
you in a hurry?”

“I
don’t know.”
 
But I was.
 
I knew I was.
 
I was anxious to have him on top of me
and inside of me, even though I knew there would be pain.
 
Or would there be?
 
I had no clue.
 
Maybe he knew a way around the
pain.
 
Maybe he had a few tricks
coming my way that would alleviate the pain.
 
It was embarrassing that, at this point
in my life, I had no idea what to expect other than what I’d heard from Lisa
and a few other girlfriends.
 
I felt
pathetic.

“Unbutton
my shirt, but don’t do it quickly.
 
Don’t be in such a rush.”

“I
can’t help myself.”

“I
don’t care if you can’t help yourself.
 
Do it slowly.
 
When it’s
time, I want you wet for me.”
 

I already am wet.

“The
top button,” he said.
 
There was a
new note in his voice.
 
Deeper.
 
Rougher.
 
When he spoke, it was a command.
 
“Unbutton it.”

I
did as he said, exposing his throat.

“Keep
going.
 
One by one.
 
That’s right.
 
Don’t hurry.”

“You’re
wearing a T-shirt.”

“Of
course I am.
 
Otherwise, you’d see
my skin beneath the shirt.”
 
He
cocked his head at me.
 
“Do you feel
cheated?”

“In
a way.”

“Good.
 
Now finish.”

“You’re
going to have to stand,” I said.
 
“The rest of your shirt is tucked into your pants.”

“So,
it is.”

The
trace of a smile crossed his lips, but only fleetingly.
 
He stood, tapped my feet apart with his
shoes, and moved directly in front of me.
 
And then I saw the reason for the smile.
 
His excitement was clearly visible in
his pants, and it now was only inches from my face.
 
He put his hands on his hips and looked
down at me when I looked up at him.
 

“The
shirt, Jennifer.
 
Why don’t you
focus on that instead?
 
You’ll see
the rest of the package later.
 
Untuck my shirt.
 
Unbutton
it.
 
Wait for me to tell you what to
do next.”

He
was being dominant with me, but, despite my past with my father, I somehow
didn’t mind it.
 
It was sexy,
actually something of a turn-on, so I went with it.
 
When I had the chance later, I’d just
take control of the situation and do the same to him—once I knew what the
hell I was doing.
 
But for the
moment, I didn’t.
 
So I did as I was
told, but when I lifted his shirt so I could finish unbuttoning it, I also
lifted a portion of his T-shirt and revealed a trace of tanned flesh before the
shirt fell back to conceal it.

“You
did that on purpose,” he said.

“No,
I didn’t.”

“Why
don’t I believe that?”

“I
don’t know.
 
It’s true.”

“I
wonder if it is.
 
Did you like what
you saw?”

“I—”

“Just
unbutton the shirt.
 
Then stand.”

I
did.

“Take
off my jacket.”

I
removed it and then pressed the fabric against my nose.
 
With his eyes fixed on mine, I breathed
in deeply before tossing the jacket onto the sofa.
 
The act of that gesture seemed to
inflame him for a moment, but then he tamped it down.
 
“To remove my shirt, you’ll need to
unbutton the cuffs.
 
Focus,
Jennifer.”

I
did as I was told, and then I gently pulled the shirt off him.
 
I knew he was in shape, but not in this
kind of shape.
 
His chest appeared
full and firm, bulky and rock hard beneath the T-shirt.
 
I could see the corded muscles in his
abdomen, and his arms were bigger than I thought they’d be.
 
I usually only saw him in a jacket of
some sort.
 
The only exception was
the night he arrived at the restaurant in casual clothes.
 
But then it was dark and the shirt he
wore fit loosely.
 
Looking at him
now, I could see that his nipples were as hard as my own.
 
The shirt fit so snugly that little was
left to the imagination.
 
And then,
in a surprising gesture, he didn’t allow me to finish undressing him.
 
In one quick motion, he pulled the
T-shirt over his head and stood bare-chested in front of me.

“There’s
your chest,” he said in a deep voice.
 
“Do you still want to touch it?”

I
admired it before I spoke.
 
“I do.”

“What
if I told you that wasn’t allowed tonight?
 
What if I told you that it was only me who was going to touch you?”

I
looked at him.
 
“Why would you do
that?”

“Because
I might want to.”

I
looked at his chest, which was muscled and lightly hairy in the most appealing
way.
 
Starting just beneath his pecs
ran a thin line of hair that rippled over his ridiculous abs and disappeared
into the well of his pants.
 
God
only knew what awaited me there.
 
His nipples were taut and erect.
 
I don’t know why, but I wanted to put my mouth on them.
 
I wanted to flick my tongue over them
and maybe bite them.
 
But he
wouldn’t let me touch him, which was too much.
 
I decided to go for it, anyway.
 
I reached out to touch him, but before I
could, he firmly pressed me down on to the sofa.

“What
do you want, Jennifer?”

I
was dizzy with lust.
 
“I want you.”

“How
badly do you want me?”

“Like
I’ve never wanted anyone else before.”

“Why?”

“Because
I feel connected to you.
 
Safe with
you.
 
And I want you.”

I
saw him look at my martini, which I’d barely touched.
 
I felt that he looked at it to see if
I’d had too much to drink and wasn’t thinking clearly.
 
But I was.
 
I’d only had a few sips.
 

“I’m
not going through with this if it’s just about taking your virginity.”

“That’s
not what this is about.”

“What
is it, then?”

I
was so filled with desire and anticipation.
 
It was a challenge just to think.
 
“I want to be with you, Alex.
 
I want you inside of me.
 
Please.
 
I can’t take much more of this.”

“Much
more of what?”

“You.
 
Standing in front of me like that.
 
The tension.
 
I can’t stand it much longer.”

“I’m
not going to take you unless you belong to me.”

“Unless
I what?”

“I
want you to be mine.”

“What
are you talking about?”

“I
want you to commit to being my girlfriend, or this isn’t happening.
 
I’m not going to take your virginity if
this is just a curiosity.
 
I won’t
do that to you because you deserve better.
 
I need to make sure that you know what you are doing, and that you know
how far I might take this.”

“What
do you mean?
 
How far
will
you take this?”

“Just
answer the question.
 
I need to know
from you that I’m the one, or this isn’t going to happen.
 
I can’t do that to you.
 
Your first time should be special.
 
You’re not some sixteen-year-old girl
who doesn’t know what she’s doing.
 
You know exactly what you’re doing and how this will change us.
 
You’ve held back for years for a
reason.
 
Obviously, you’ve been
waiting for the right man.
 
I need
you to be sure that I’m that man.”

“You
are.”

“Will
you be exclusive to me?”

I
screwed up my face at him.
 
“Is that
even a question?
 
Of course I
will.
 
Don’t you know me by
now?
 
Why would you ask such a
thing?”

“Because
exclusivity is a loaded term for me.”

“I
don’t understand.”

He
leaned down toward my ear, the stubble on his chin once again sending me to the
edge when it brushed against my earlobe.
 
When he spoke, it was a whisper.
 
“Then let me explain.
 
I want
to do things to you that are so intimate, only we share them.
 
You’ll never know when I want to take
you.
 
It could be in my car, at my
office, at a restaurant, here on the floor, in any one of my homes, or in any
number of other places.
 
Maybe even
in public.
 
I am not exactly vanilla
when it comes to sex, Jennifer.
 
I
never have been.
 
I like to
experiment—a lot.
 
I’ve been
celibate for four years, ever since my wife died.
 
Like you, I’ve also waited for that one
special person.
 
The only
person.
 
I knew I found her that
night at the Four Seasons.
 
I knew
it when I became jealous of the attention you were receiving.
 
I’m not usually a jealous man, but I was
that night, and it was for a good reason.
 
And then I fucked everything up when I mistreated you.
 
Before we go forward, I need to make
sure that you
do
feel safe with me, that you mean it when
you say that you feel safe with me.
 
I need to know that you seriously want to be with me, and that you will
trust in me in the process.”

“What
process?”

“You’ll
see.”

“You’re
being so vague.”

“If
you trust me, that shouldn’t matter.”

“I
do trust you.”

“Then
we’ll take it slowly,” he said.
 
“Hand me my shirt.”

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