I let him, taking all he had to give. I wrapped my legs around his hips and squeezed, my fingers plunging into his silky mass of messy hair, my fingernails scraping along his scalp. My tongue danced with his, savoring his taste, the only taste I ever really wanted.
Kissing Fin was inconsequential.
Kissing Connor was confusing, and, I had to admit, great, but only because I was high.
Kissing Alexander was home.
A broken home
, some inner demon reminded me. Or perhaps the voice of sanity and self-preservation. Alexander couldn’t have me if he also had her.
I forced my legs to release their hold on his hips, to stretch back down until my feet hit the ground. Palms on Alexander’s chest, I attempted to push him off.
He stilled. His lips left mine. I almost sobbed at the loss, a huge lump of this-is-so-fucked-up lodged in my throat.
Both of us breathing hard, he stared a hole in my face, while I looked over his shoulder. If I met his eyes now, I might cave again. I couldn’t fight the primal call of our fated mate connection when he held me like he never wanted to let me go, when his power skimmed over my skin dancing with mine, when his masculine scent invaded my nose and I never wanted it to leave.
Somehow I gave voice to the exact opposite of what every primal part of me wanted. “Let me go.”
“Carina. Please.”
The please did it. My gaze snapped to his. Blue eyes darkened with pain begged me to surrender, to give him a chance. I inhaled deep and exhaled loud and long. A glimmer of hope flitted across his handsome face, lightening the darkness in his eyes.
“Fine. Five minutes.” I could handle a few minutes, right? Keep it short, minimize the pain.
“Come home with me.”
I shook my head. “Five minutes.”
The hope faded from his face, and he ran his hands through his hair, a habit he had whenever he was mega upset, which, since he was a basically mellow guy, wasn’t very often. He’d done it twice tonight.
I caught his wrists. “Tick tock.”
I’d meant it to be mean, but it came out soft because the second I touched his bare skin, and those bracelets on his wrist—the leather bands and, more importantly, the titanium linked one I bought him—I surrendered a bit more of my resistance.
Our hands met. Our fingers entwined. I gave in. “Okay. Home.”
He didn’t say another word and neither did I. If either of us spoke now, we ran the risk of ruining this fragile truce, and of me running for the hills and never looking back even if I wanted to. He ushered me into his Porsche and whisked to the other side in vampire speed.
Inside his car, the familiar smell of well-tended leather greeted me, along with more of Alexander’s musky scent. I closed my eyes and sank against the seat, shaking my head back and forth as if the movement would force his scent away from me. No such luck. Tingling tickled me from head to toe, my mouth watered, and I gnawed on my lower lip to have something to taste. It wasn’t enough. The wolf’s blood high held me trapped, and I needed more input, more—
A rustle and crackle of stiff paper, then Alexander’s voice cut through the hum of my high. “Here. This will help. Open up.” Something powdery touched my lips. The scent of cinnamon invaded my nose. Yum. I opened my eyes and my mouth. He placed a stick of cinnamon gum on my tongue. I barely resisted clamping down on his finger and sucking on that too.
But the cinnamon gum did the trick, distracting my hyperaware taste buds. Between that, and the soft leather I stroked next to my leg, I just might manage this ride without breaking apart.
Alexander buckled me in and away we went.
The ride to his house in the inner Sunset was long and silent, broken only by the rush of the wind around the car, the swish of passing cars, the occasional honk of a horn, and the smacking of my lips as I chewed the gum with gusto. The formerly clear evening sky gave way to fog, spread like a thick white wool blanket over his neighborhood.
The bite of the wind chased goose bumps across my skin as we stepped from his car in his driveway. Bitter, piercing, cold. Just like my insides. I was a contradiction of wolf’s blood highs and reality inducing lows. A walking poster child for yin and yang.
I stared up at Alexander’s modern home made of steel and wood and lots of glass, remembering the first time I’d come here, back when our connection was brand new, back when I blushed almost every time he looked at me, back when his maker Tessa, my surrogate mother, tortured him for having the guts to kiss me, to share blood with me, to claim me for his own. I shivered more from the memories than the cold.
There were good memories here too, of long nights spent talking, playing the piano together, cuddling, watching TV, ordering Thai or Vietnamese delivery from down the street for me. Basically being a fairly normal couple. Would we ever have that again?
Alexander gripped my elbow, and I let him escort me inside, up the stairs to his top floor flat.
I took off my shoes and socks in his flat by habit. The hardwood floor underneath my feet was warm, welcoming. He’d turned on the under-floor heat. I glanced around. A black duffel bag sat on the granite kitchen countertop separating the kitchen from the rest of his open space.
Boots, shoes, and a couple of shirts lay on the floor near the living room. “You came home first.”
He helped me out of my jacket, shrugged out of his own, and hung them up in the closet near the door. “Had no choice. Too close to dawn when I arrived.”
“Oh.” I walked farther into his space, feeling like an outsider. I didn’t belong here anymore. I used to consider it like another home but now an old and beautiful vampire named Genevieve stood in here with us.
“Hungry?” Alexander strode to his stainless steel fridge and tapped the Thai House menu hanging under a bright red button magnet. “I can order you some food.”
I frowned and wandered through the living room area, past the two couches and red lounger to the baby grand piano occupying the space where a dining room table would have been in anyone else’s house.
I leaned against the side of the piano, running my hand back and forth over the gleaming, smooth wood top, my action soothing the sensual call of the wolf’s blood so I could try and talk to my clearly addle-brained and possibly, probably, ex-boyfriend who thought now was a good time for me to eat. “Really? That’s what you brought me here to talk about?”
He stalked out of the kitchen. “No. I just thought—”
“You thought what? What did you think, Alexander? That you’d come back here and I’d just fall into your arms like nothing has happened?”
Like you didn’t crush my fucking heart?
I kept that last part to myself. Wouldn’t give him that power over me. But my body gave me away, my hand moving quicker over the piano top, making circles now. Frantic circles matching the emotions stirring like a whirlpool in my gut.
Alexander stopped in front of me and put his hand over mine, halting my manic motion. “I was hoping we could talk after you come down. When you can think without distraction.”
“I’m thinking just fine,” I protested, but my voice was faint, my senses distracted by the press of his warm hand, the cool and smooth surface of the hard wood under my hand, the hum of the refrigerator, the evergreen and lemon scents of the cleaners the housekeeper used on Alexander’s house. Damn. He was right. But I didn’t want to wait. Couldn’t wait. It would kill me to wait. “I have to go.”
“No.”
“I can’t stay here with you and not talk. If we don’t talk, what will we do?”
A sexy smile curved his lips, which just served to piss me off.
“Oh no you don’t. No.” I slid away from him along the length of the piano, rounding the curve.
To his credit, he didn’t follow, didn’t force the advantage he had to know he held over me, given my usual weakness to his charms and the draw of our bond combined with this damn wolf’s blood high. Blasted blood was taking forever to leave my system.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Can we at least sit?” He gestured at the living area and the comfy couches where we cuddled and kissed and—
I shook my head with so much vigor I made myself dizzy. “No, absolutely not.”
“All right.” He went for his hair but he stopped when he saw me frowning and pulled at the collar of his black T-shirt instead. “Not sure where to start.”
I huffed. “How about with the part where you’re…” I could barely spit it out. “…With
her
.”
Alexander shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “It’s not what you think.”
My fingers curved, nails scraping along the piano top. “Stop saying that.” If he uttered one more cliché, I’d walk right out and never look back. Or try not to look back, anyway.
“Genevieve is the Contessa’s second.”
The sound of her name, spoken with a perfect French accent, issuing from
my
man’s perfect mouth, twisted the dagger of betrayal in my gut. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Like how you could kiss her and—
I couldn’t finish the thought of what else they might have, no, probably
had
done together.
He leaned against the piano, body tense. “If she gives a command, I have to obey.” He lowered his gaze and stared at his shoes. Hard. Stress lines scrunched together on his forehead.
My palms tingled with the need to wipe them away. Instead, I waited for him to say more, and sidled a step closer then stopped my treacherous body in its tracks. Bad body. Stay away from the bad boy.
The silence stretched too long for my liking. “That’s it? She says
kiss me
and you say
yes ma’am
?”
His head whipped up. “Yes.”
My mind reeled with understanding and horror. Of course, he had to obey Tessa’s second. Alexander was minion, way lower than second in her clan. So if that gorgeous lieutenant cougar demanded a kiss, he had to kiss her. If she said—I swallowed hard—
fuck me
, he’d have to… The ground under my feet cracked open and plummeted me into the bowels of hell. “Did you…did you have sex with her?”
Alexander’s eyes flashed with angry fire, and he snarled. “No.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and attacked his hair three times before he managed to speak again. “I agreed to play escort. On orders, I smiled for the paparazzi and tolerated her public advances.” He rubbed his mouth as if wiping away a rancid taste. “I drew the line when she wanted more.”
My body, of its own accord, rounded the curve of the piano and stopped two small steps away from him. He looked so lost with his shoulders hunched, his arms hanging at his sides, fists clenched so tight his knuckles shown white against his lightly tanned skin. Hope hummed loud in my heart, in my every cell. Was he mine and only mine? “You told her…no?”
His fierce expression made goose bumps shimmer over my skin. “I’m yours, Carina Tranquilli. Only yours. Until the day
you
walk away from
me
.”
I’m yours, Carina Tranquilli.
Joy ricocheted around my heart, and I hurled myself into his arms.
He caught me and stumbled backward, taking us down to the piano bench. Straddling him, I showered his face with kisses and swept my hands everywhere, into his hair, along his shoulders and chest, over his back, elated to reacquaint myself with every part of him. I’d missed him so much.
“Alexander,” I uttered his name like a benediction and wrapped my legs around his waist, wiggling my hips. He groaned in response and pressed a very obvious erection against my needy core. Zings of pleasure ricocheted through my body, curling my toes.
I’d never get enough of him.
He grabbed my head and gazed deep into my eyes, trapping me with his hunger, his need. My heart opened wide when he claimed my lips. I sobbed into his mouth, and he answered me with a territorial growl, making my insides quiver with anticipation. Gripping my hips tight, he ground me on his hard length threatening to bust through his jeans. Dampness seeped from me, drenching my panties. So little fabric keeping us apart.
Apparently, my man agreed. With a powerful surge of motion, he stood and lay me out on the piano top, my legs dangling over the closed keyboard. Shivers cascaded over my skin as he stroked up the inside of my legs. Eager to watch his moves, I raised up on my elbows only to be pushed back down by his hand between my breasts.
“Stay.”
He made short work of my fancy panties, ripping the fragile black silk from my body. So what? I had plenty. I pulled up my dress, scrunching it near my waist, fisting the soft and stretchy material with shaky fingers. God, I wanted him.
Alexander stared at my folds, his gaze fierce, possessive.
Exposed and vulnerable, I trembled under his stare.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Carina.”
My name on his lips made me sigh. His lips on my core made me moan. He parted my thighs wide, fingers squeezing my sensitized flesh as he kissed me everywhere, slid his tongue along every inch of me, tasting, claiming. I thought I’d die from the pleasure he gave me. Then he gave me more. One finger dipped inside. Two. Plunging. Flicking. His tongue sought my throbbing clit and teased. Slow circles, fast ones. Then he bit down and sucked.
I exploded into a billion stars, my sight flashing white, my mind spiraling into a vortex of pure pleasure. On and on he adored my clit, sending wave after wave, shattering my body, thumping me against the hard surface of his pretty piano until I shot up and fisted his hair, pulling at his head. I wanted him on me, in me. No holding back, no more waiting, no more worrying whether it might kill me or him, no barriers keeping us from finally, fully consummating our relationship.
I tried to say all of that, but my tongue twisted in on itself, passion pulverizing my ability to speak in coherent sentences until all I could utter was his name. Just his name. “Alexander.”