Winter Kisses (11 page)

“Yes” was all Monica could manage to reply and hoped he knew she was responding to everything he'd murmured.

With slow, almost torturous motions he removed her clothes. When she lay there naked and needy he stripped off his clothes, taking his sweet time with each piece. Her vision glazed with lust, Monica watched as Alex lifted his shirt over his head; delectable pectoral muscles and tight abs came into view and her breathing quickened. Perfect buttocks and sculpted thighs appeared next, his thick erection stealing the last of her breath. Her tongue snaked out to lick lips that had gone instantly dry.

He was beyond gorgeous and he wanted her. She
lifted her arms to him, spread her legs slightly and whispered his name.

Alex touched his palms to her thighs; he needed to feel their softness once more. Her skin was shades lighter than his, like freshly churned butter, and his mouth watered each time he saw her naked. She'd parted her legs for him but he wanted more. He wanted to see her, all of her. Reaching over he turned on the lamp and waited to see if she would protest. But she didn't, only watched him with the same hunger he suspected she saw in him.

Again he touched her legs, moved his hands up and down the length, remembering the first time he'd seen them and knew he'd wanted them wrapped tightly around him. Holding both her ankles, he spread her legs wider, his gaze moving swiftly to her center. Like a flower blossoming only for him. Alex's entire body tensed, his hands shaking slightly as they moved upward to touch her there.

Her dewy folds glistened beneath his perusal and his fingertips touched the plumpness lightly. She sighed and he inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as he lowered his head and kissed her clitoris with a soft peck. He continued to rain kisses over her center, along the soft crevices, near her weeping entrance and back to her clitoris again. Over and over he kissed her, swearing if he never remembered anything else in this world it would be kissing Monica Lakefield this way.

When he felt her hands cupping his head, applying a gentle pressure, he moaned and mumbled a ragged, “Yes.” She wanted more and he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her the world, the sun, the
stars, the moon, any and everything he could to make her happy.

Tonight he would give her himself.

Every touch of his lips to her was gentle and filled with everything Alex had felt building inside him for this woman. Since the first day he'd met her he'd known there was something about her, something that had drawn him. She wasn't an easy woman, that was a given, but the man that claimed her would be receiving such a magnificent gift. He wondered if she knew that, wanted her to feel what he was offering wholeheartedly.

His palms gripped her buttocks and he lifted her slightly off the bed, giving himself better access. The sound of her heavy breathing and his name on her lips was like a litany in the air. His arousal was so thick and so hard now it was almost painful. The mere thought of sliding his length inside her was like a touch of heaven.

When she shivered beneath him, her thighs tightening then releasing, her body going limp, Alex lifted his head, dropping a trail of heated kisses over her navel, up her torso to her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he found her lips and kissed her deeply. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he slipped inside of her without further preamble.

Moving slowly, Alex enjoyed the smooth rhythm they created, the tight friction of her walls gripping his length. There was no need to rush; they had all night. Downstairs there was a party going on—in here it was something else, something special.

 

Monica couldn't breathe; she couldn't think; she couldn't do anything but feel. Everywhere Alex
touched, either with his lips, his hands, his length, everywhere was in the midst of a slow burn.

He'd brought her to release too many times to count, until she felt the way he was stroking inside her now was the grandest of all finales.

Sex had never been this way for her. In the beginning it was exciting, then it was just there, a chore or deed that had to be done, but nothing to this magnitude. She felt something when she was with Alex, something that she'd never experienced before. She couldn't put a name to it, didn't dare to, but recognized its importance just the same.

He'd shifted them so that they were now on their sides, her legs still wrapped tightly around him, one of his hands in her hair, the other splayed securely at her back. He rocked back and forth inside her, keeping their connection and building a slight friction that made her want to scream. It was slow, this lovemaking session, not rushed or fevered like their previous ones. This time was different, Monica knew without a doubt. It was lovemaking this time and not sex.

That thought had her eyes opening.

Alex's were open, too, watching her. His gaze seemed to worship her, to pull her in as if she were the only thing in this room. It was gentle and yet intense. Impulsively she used a finger to trace the outline of his lips, the line of his jaw, his eyebrows, down his nose. She wanted to familiarize herself with every part of him, to dedicate this exact moment to memory in case it never happened again.

“You're beautiful,” she whispered.

“So are you” was his reply.

“You see me differently than anyone ever has.”

“I see the real you.”

His words sounded sweet. They washed over her, coating the intense pleasure he was already giving her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she clung to them, to him.

When he lifted one of her legs, holding it high, and plunged deeper, harder into her, Monica gasped.

“You are my queen,” he whispered as he thrust. “All mine, Queen. All mine.”

“Yes,” she managed to chant over and over again. “All yours.”

It wasn't a defeat, she thought as his heated thrusts grew faster, her own pleasure rising higher and higher.

She wasn't giving in, wasn't sacrificing herself. She was accepting, wanting, believing.

And as they reached their release together, Monica realized she was also running. Even as he let her leg slide against his thigh and dropped a parade of kisses along her shoulder, up her neck, on her lips. She was taking all that Alex Bennett had to give and she was running with it, probably away from it. Because she didn't know how to do anything else.

“I
don't want her hurt.” Yates sighed with exasperation. “I thought I'd made that perfectly clear.”

“You said you didn't like that she was in the mountains with another man and you wanted me to bring her back. That's what I tried to do.”

“By almost running her off the road, then breaking into her hotel room? That doesn't sound like what I told you to do.” The other man started to speak but Yates waved his words away and interrupted. “She's returning tonight. She'll probably get my package tomorrow, then she'll call me.” He looked out the window as he spoke. He was still in New York, still in this crowded and dirty city when he really wanted to be home going about his business. But Monica had broken the rules; she'd done what he'd specifically told her not to do. She should know better. She should know that eventually she'd have to pay for her disobedience.

“I'm booked on the same flight she is,” he said as if that made up for the debacle he'd already caused.

Glaring at the phone with growing impatience, Yates sighed again. “No. Just get back here and tail her to her place. If he stays with her, you call me immediately.”

“Gotcha. I could just take care of him for you. For a small fee, of course.”

“No. Do what I've already paid you for and that's it,” Yates said adamantly. Good help was so very hard to find, or, in this case, buy.

 

Telling Alex she didn't need him to ride all the way to her apartment with her crossed Monica's mind as they waited at the curb after grabbing their bags at the airport. But once she slid into the back and looked out at the familiar scenery a slight unrest settled over her and she began silently thanking him for being there. Although she couldn't quite put her finger on what was bothering her Monica knew that something wasn't right.

Alex told the cabdriver to wait as he helped her out of the car and retrieved her bags from the trunk.

“Lead the way,” he said with his now-familiar smile.

She went through the glass doors, speaking to Miguel, the doorman, then heading straight to the elevators. Her mail could wait until morning, she decided as suddenly her body felt beyond tired. Everything seemed to be lagging. Try as she might, her steps even seemed slower than normal as they stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and moved toward the end of the hall.

She lifted a hand to put her key into the lock then
stopped. Knowing his gaze would be on her, she looked at Alex.

“You okay, Queen?” he asked.

She blinked then took a deep breath. Why she was acting so strange, Monica had no idea. But with a shake of her head she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Thank you,” she said, motioning for him to put her bags down just inside the doorway.

Alex did just that, then stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind him.

“You look a little off. Are you sure you're going to be all right staying here alone? I can stay if you want.”

She shook her head quickly before her mind changed and she said something that would continue the unthinkable between them. He was rubbing his hands up and down her arms as he spoke. Telling him to go became one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do.

But she did it.

“No. I'm fine. You can leave. I know you have a lot to do to get ready for your big meetings next week.”

On the plane they'd talked about business, which was a first for them since they'd been together. But it was senseless to keep avoiding a subject that both of them shared a huge interest in. Alex told her about their newest venture in the cell-phone arena and Monica had to admit she was excited for them. She would be one of the first to buy the new phone when it hit the market next week. Likewise, she'd told him about their upcoming exhibits and how they were looking at opening galleries in Miami and Atlanta later this year. It felt really good to be able to talk to someone about her work and have them look as interested in her business as she was in theirs. Just another reason why she should make a
clean break from him—and another reason why she hesitated doing so.

“You're more important to me than work, Queen. If you're not comfortable I want to be here for you.”

In an attempt to keep things light she lifted the cell phone she'd stuffed into her pocket. “You're only a phone call away,” she said with a smile.

“At home I'm about an hour and ten minutes away. If I stay here—”

She put a hand on his chest. With the other she put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. I'm fine. You can go and everything will go back to normal. You'll see.”

Alex kissed her fingertips and Monica pulled her hand away from his lips, chastising herself for doing it in the first place.

“By everything you're trying to tell me,
we'll
go back to normal, as well.”

She inhaled deeply and let it out with a flurry of words. “I think it's for the best. We're from two different worlds. We don't even live in the same city, and you know the probability of long-distance relationships working.”

“You're not normally an excuse maker, which tells me the thought of us being together still makes you uncomfortable.”

“It makes me uncertain,” she blurted out, then bit her bottom lip to keep anything else revealing from escaping. “Look, Alex,” she said finally. “You don't understand. My life is hectic, to say the very least. Yours is busy, as well. Now is just not a good time.”

“You can stop at any time, Queen. None of your arguments are convincing me.”

Monica sighed and walked away from him. “I'm just
not ready for this,” she admitted with her back to him. “I haven't thought about being in a relationship in a long time and in three days I've been intimately involved with you and thinking thoughts that I shouldn't be thinking. It's just not how I work.”

“Because you didn't plan it? Because it wasn't on your agenda? You of all people should know that you can't plan every aspect of your life. And that's what makes it worth living. The unexpected, the surprises that bring you more joy than you could ever contemplate having.”

Monica remained quiet, looking out the window at the darkening night sky. “The meter's still ticking in your cab.”

When his hands touched her shoulders she jumped because she hadn't heard him come up behind her. She thought he was still standing in the doorway.

“Until you tell me no and mean it with your heart I'm going to keep trying.” Turning her to face him, he kissed her forehead lightly, touched his lips to her eyelids, the tip of her nose, then finally her lips. “If you can't sleep tonight remember you said I'm just a phone call away.”

A soft smile touched her lips as she nodded her agreement.

“Good night, Queen.”

“Good night, Alex.”

 

Alone in her apartment, Monica unpacked her bags and was about to head into her bathroom for a shower when she noticed a small box on the nightstand by her bed.

She hadn't had a chance to shop in Aspen and all
the Christmas gifts she'd given or received had been opened already. So the box wrapped in gold paper with a huge red bow on top was a new arrival.

“Open the damn box, Monica, and stop being childish.” Chastising herself was something Monica was used to doing. Tonight it seemed unnecessary as a part of her thought she had every right to be a little jittery. Ignoring that part, she reached for the box and forced herself to rip it open quickly.

With the wrappings tossed on her bed Monica tore into the box then stopped cold as she saw the contents.

Staring up at her were glass blue eyes that looked all too realistic. The eyes were a bright contrast to the pure white of the fur. When she had swallowed once, then twice, she finally had the courage to pull it out.

It was a stuffed rabbit.

Similar to one she'd received before. A long time ago.

There was only one person who would give her this again. The only person who'd ever called her Bunny.

“Yates.” His name was a whisper on her lips and a pounding to her heart.