The Distraction (3 page)

“You ordered pizza,” he said, and the surprise in his voice caught me off guard.

I set it down, not hungry. Not in that way, at least.

“Who did you think was coming over?” I asked. It was so quiet you could hear the consistent buzz of the overhead light.

His gaze flicked to the side.

“There's been no one but you.” I tried to sound confident, but I was hurt that he'd doubted me.

He nodded slowly. “I thought . . .” His Adam's apple bobbed. “I had too much time to think. I didn't know if you'd be here when I came home.”

“I promised you I'd wait.”

“You did.” He crossed his arms over his chest, as if he didn't know what to do with them. I could think of a million things he could do with them in that moment, but I didn't know how to bridge the distance between us either.

“Your hair's longer.” I was pretty sure this wasn't what he'd wanted to say.

“Yours is shorter.”

He scratched a hand over his skull. “Yeah. They make you keep it short.”

“Did you wear an orange jumpsuit?” I asked.

He snorted. “It was gray, actually.”

“Did you miss me?” My chest ached, just to ask. His eyes found mine, and the room around him fell out of focus. The man could level me with just a look. If he touched me, I'd be putty in his hands.

“Every fucking second.” He stared at me as if trying to figure something out, then took a step closer.

“There's a bat by the door, and another under the bed,” he said. I swallowed as he came within arm's reach. “And there's five kinds of sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

I combed my fingers through my hair. This was exactly why I'd wanted to clean up before he came back. He didn't need to know that I woke up almost every night dreaming that he hadn't reached the bridge in time, that Bobby was beating me or throwing me into the water. That every sound got me out of bed at night, and that some days I was sure that Maxim Stein had broken out of his barricaded estate on Davis Island where he was under house arrest and was following me around. Alec had enough to worry about.

“I can't sleep sometimes.” I didn't tell him that none of the pills worked. Maybe they knocked me out, but if I woke up there was no going back.

I didn't have to explain anymore; it was clear by the look on his face that he knew what had been happening.

“I should have been here,” he said.

I shook my head, hating the tenderness in his voice because it made me feel weak. “Yeah, well. You have a pretty good excuse.”

He took another step closer, and I bumped into the wall behind me. I hadn't realized I was moving backward. Now that he was closer, I had to look up to see him. I was overwhelmed by just how big he was.

“No one's going to hurt you again,” he said, the promise clear in his voice. His words struck me deeply; it felt as though my lungs were trembling. My pulse began to kick faster. Faster, as his gaze lowered to my mouth. My tongue wet my dry lips.

“I was fine by myself,” I said. It wasn't like I was too petrified to get out of bed every morning. I didn't want him to think it was
that
bad.

He smirked, moving closer again until his arms rose, and pressed against the wall behind me, boxing me in. His body was inches away from mine, but I could feel the heat coming off of him, and smell the soap from the shower mingling with his dark, masculine scent.

“I believe you,” he said. “I saw the vibrator in the nightstand drawer.”

I closed my eyes, scrunching up my nose. I placed my hand on his chest, intending to push him away but finding I couldn't. Instead, my hand gripped his shirt in a tight fist. “You shouldn't snoop around.”

“It's still technically my place.”

His head lowered, cheek nuzzling my temple, nose sliding up one side of mine, then down the other. I kept my eyes closed, savoring the feel of him. God, I'd missed him. Talking to him, being close to him. The way he felt, and the way I felt when he was near. The need inside of me increased until my back arched, and my hips jerked against his. He didn't move his hands, but his body responded, rocking back against me. His hard length pressed against my belly while his knee slid between my legs, opening me for him. Excitement jolted through my body as I felt the physical demonstration of his desire.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

I couldn't. My head was swimming, my pulse pounding in my eardrums, my chest, my sex. With his knee rubbing against my damp center, the sensations were rising, the heat taking me over. I was getting close, and if I opened my eyes I was afraid he would disappear, and this would have all been some dark, torturous fantasy.

“Anna, I have to see your eyes.”

They fluttered open. He stared straight into my soul, asking questions without words. My palm lifted to cradle his cheek, and he leaned into my hand.

“Christ,” he murmured. “You've been haunting me.”

He rocked against me again and I fought to keep my eyes open. That familiar tension was coiling tighter, threatening to snap, but now it was stronger and more acute because it had been trapped inside me for three long months. My blood felt like it was humming. Only he could make me feel this way. Only he could be my undoing.

“Alec.” My breath was coming in little gasps.

“It hasn't changed,” he said, giving voice to my fears, and banishing them at the same time. His forehead pressed against mine.

He wanted me. Needed me. And there was love in his eyes, I was sure I'd seen it. I'd missed him so much there were times I could barely breathe.

There was still a chance to do this the way I'd wanted.

“Wait,” I said, louder than I'd intended.

He pushed back, breathing hard. “Wait?”

“You need to leave,” I said.

His brows rose. He fell back another step as if I'd punched him.

“Just for a little while. I have to do something.” I was already pulling him to the door.

“What's going on?”

“You'll see.” I unlatched the bolt and pushed him into the hallway. “Knock in five minutes. Don't go anywhere.” I stared at him expectantly until he gave a confused nod.

Then I shut the door in his face.

N
ever in my life have I stripped so fast. The T-shirt went over my head and landed on the floor somewhere. I nearly tripped on my pajama pants on my way through the bedroom door. Bursting into the master bathroom, I rifled through my makeup, found the compacts and brushes I needed and went to work. It wasn't as careful a job as I would have liked, but I got the basics: mascara, smoky eye shadow, and my new favorite lipstick that was appropriately called
Orgasm
.

I brushed my teeth while I combed my hair, teasing it a little. It was still mostly wet, but I didn't have time to dry it—not while Alec and his enormous erection were waiting in the hallway wondering what the hell was going on. I giggled, picturing the baffled look on his face as I'd shut the door. He'd understand soon enough.

I pulled the pretty velvet bag from the drawer, hoping Alec hadn't thought to explore there, too, and after a quick deliberation went for the black lingerie. The satin was soft and tight against my skin, and instantly bolstered my self-confidence. He wasn't going to know what hit him.

Thanking the universe that the esthetician had had a cancellation yesterday and been able to bump up my waxing appointment, I pulled on thigh-highs and found my best pair of patent leather fuck-me pumps.

One last run through to turn off a few lamps and light some scented candles, and I took my place on the couch, draping my body over the cushions. I should have thought about poses—legs open or closed?—and ended up readjusting myself half a dozen times while waiting.

He didn't knock.

“Come on,” I muttered. I was so hot for him I was starting to get uncomfortable.

Nothing.

With a groan, I rose, and walked to the door. I cracked it, and caught sight of his back as he paced by.

“Knock already!” I whisper-shouted.

He turned toward me, but I was mostly hidden. Quickly, I shut the door, now unable to stop the nervous laughter that bubbled up. Making a last-minute decision to stay there, I cocked my hip out and waited.

He knocked twice.

“Come in,” I called.

The door pushed inward, and he stood, gaping at me like he'd lost the power of speech. I bit my bottom lip seductively and tried to hide the smile. Now
this
was more like it.

“Fuck me,” he muttered finally.

“That's the idea.” I trailed one finger between my breasts, which were practically chin level thanks to some well-placed padding. The cups barely hid my nipples, and as his gaze became stuck there, I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

“This is what I wanted to do before,” I said.

He took a step forward and slammed the door behind him.

“This is what
I
wanted to do before,” he said, voice rough.

He was on me before I could take another breath. His hands flew over my body, sliding down the smooth satin, gripping my backside with a firm, demanding pressure. His mouth claimed mine; his lips were hard and wet, and when his tongue plunged into my mouth, he swallowed my hoarse cry. We battled for leverage, each fighting for dominance, but as his tongue slid over my teeth beneath my upper lip, I gasped with pleasure. He'd never kissed me like that before.

He pulled me against his pelvis, grinding his hard length against my sex while I frantically pulled his shirt up over his stomach. His abdominals flexed as my hands skimmed over them, driving me crazy. I reached for his belt, unhooked it, jerked open his fly.

Wet, frantic kisses trailed down my neck, hitting all the spots that made me wild. Finally, I got his T-shirt over his head and as he shrugged out of it I scraped my nails down his hard pecs.

“
Fuck
,
that feels good.” His eyes were dilated, his breath ragged. I loved knowing I had this effect on him. That I could make him as crazy as he made me. I wanted to watch him lose control, to see him fall apart, but as one hand swept between my thighs, I lost the ability to think.

“You're so hot,” he said. “So wet.” He circled the heel of his hand over my clit, the fabric between us now soaked.

“Inside,” I gasped. “Inside. I need you.”

He pressed harder and I shouted weakly.

“I thought about this every day. You squeezing my cock. Clenching around my fingers. I thought I was losing my mind.”

His dirty words stoked the fire, and as his hand pushed aside the thin strip of fabric and his finger made a wide arc around my entrance, my knees buckled. He supported me with one arm around my lower back and pressed inside.

“Yes,” he hissed as I groaned. “I heard those sounds you make in my head. They made me so hard.” He added a second finger. It was a tight fit while I was standing, and the satin pulled taut against my swollen lips, bringing new sensitivity. I gripped his shoulders.

He lifted me, and the air huffed from my lungs as my back slammed against the wall. A framed beachscape fell to the floor with a crash. He leaned into me, his cock still sheathed by the jeans I hadn't managed to get off. Positioned higher, he had more access to my body and his tongue traced a searing line over the swell of my breast. One hand reached to pull the cup open, but the shoulder strap held tight.

“Rip it,” I said.

He stared at me, mouth a tight grimace. Then he wrapped the thin strap around his finger and yanked, forearm flexing. The fabric scored my skin, and he eased the sting with his tongue as my breasts spilled free, licking a trail down to one hard nipple. He circled the tight peak, lapped at it, and finally drew it into his mouth, making me writhe in place still pinned between his hard body and the wall.

“Alec,” I said. And then I shouted his name. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

I was so close. So close and then weightless. He turned around, taking three quick strides to the dining room table and setting me down on it. His mouth never left my breast, and when his teeth raked over the sensitive skin I shuddered, and arched back.

I was coming, my center clenching and empty for a full second before he swore, and the smooth, hard head of his cock surged through my swollen folds.

The feel of him inside me lit my desire like gasoline. Spasms raced through my body. Every muscle flexed, pulling him deeper, hungry for us to be joined in the most intimate way. My nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned, and the sound stroked my sex again. It had been too long since we'd been together, and the desperation made the intensity of my orgasm nearly unbearable.

“I couldn't wait,” he said tightly. “I had to feel it. That way you grip my dick when you come. I needed it.”

I whimpered as the tremors faded, aware that the other places our bodies connected—my hands around the back of his neck, his palm on my thigh—were now slick with perspiration. I hastily shoved the hair out of my face, closing my eyes to concentrate on the feel of his thick shaft inside me.

“You're so tight,” he said. “Lie back, baby. I'm going to push all the way in.”

I didn't understand what he meant until I looked down, and saw that he was firmly gripping the base of his cock in his fist. He'd stopped himself from plowing all the way in while I'd been coming, but now intended to fill me completely. For some reason this touched me; in the midst of his own lust he still put my comfort first.

“Oh,” I said, and then
“Oh”
again as his fingers brushed the slick skin around my entrance. He unhooked the bottom of the teddy to give himself more room, and pushed the black, wet satin up my belly so that he could see my bareness. I lay back on the table, my hair fanning out around me, and he lifted my knees, latching his arms beneath my thighs.

“God, you're beautiful,” he said. But he was the one that was beautiful. With the candlelight flickering off his skin, and the thin sheen of sweat accentuating the cuts of muscle, I could barely breathe. It seemed impossible that this sexy man had chosen me.

His head fell forward, breaking our stare. He was huge, rock solid and soft as velvet, and as he impaled me I felt our souls meld together with a searing pleasure.

“Breathe, Anna,” he said tightly. “Relax.”

I inhaled in a hard rush, then forced my clenching muscles to be still. It was difficult; my sex was a greedy bitch, and once she'd gotten what she wanted there was no stopping her from taking more.

I gripped his forearms, feeling them tremble. I could tell he wanted to drive into me, fuck me hard, but he was taking this first entry slow so as not to hurt me. He felt larger than before, and just as I wasn't sure how much more I could take, he pushed deeper.

“Alec, oh God.”

He pushed until his big cock was buried inside me and his balls brushed against my ass.

“Wait,” I said, wishing that I could do the same but finding it impossible. I was unable to hold still, but even so my body acclimated to him. Remembered.

“God, Anna,” he said between his teeth. “You feel so good.”

I rose onto my elbows, and he grimaced and squeezed my thighs harder. I was distracted by his flexing pecs momentarily before looking at his face, at his dark brows drawn together in concentration, and the thin band of scar tissue at the bridge of his nose. His high, solid cheekbones and square jaw, and those perfect, bitable lips.

His eyes, dark as thunderheads, stared into mine, and his cock twitched inside of me. The tiny move nearly made me combust I was so tightly wound.

“Now,” I panted. “Now. Please.”

He slid out, then back in slowly.

“More,” I said. “Faster.”

“I can't,” he said, diverting his gaze to the side. “I won't last.”

“Please.”

He groaned. “When you beg like that . . .”

He pushed into me hard. Withdrew. Buried himself again. “I can't say no to you.”

“Yes,” I said as he found a faster rhythm. My cries began keeping time with his thrusts. Soon, I felt it. The spark, deep inside of me, that would launch me into bliss once ignited. It had been three months since I'd felt that deep friction. Only Alec could reach it.

“Come with me,” he said, already getting close. “
Now
, Anna.”

I was suddenly desperate for the feel of his chest against my breasts and sat up. He locked me against his body just as my world erupted. Had I been able to think, I would have been glad for his hold on me then, because otherwise I would have bucked myself right off the table. His grip tightened—one arm slung around the back of my neck, the other hand digging into my hip. The pleasure wasn't gentle. It was hard and powerful and unrelenting. It consumed me completely. His drives became fast and punishing, and with a sharp curse, he slammed deep into me and held, head thrown back in victory.

I felt him coming, felt the warmth of his love and the strength of his passion.
Finally,
I thought. Finally, he was home.

Cock still pulsing, he lowered his forehead to mine.

“Again,” he said.