All of Me (16 page)

Somehow, Faith got that. She’s wrapped her smart, beautiful head around his intentions and didn’t question the decision. Even more impressive was that she didn’t try to tell him it wasn’t his fault, like Jake had tried to do countless times, and she didn’t offer empty condolences because they never eased the pain. If anyone knew that, Faith did.

What in the hell was he going to do with her?

The itch to touch her, to cross the few feet between them and seek comfort, was so fierce that he rose from the chair before he remembered she hadn’t reacted. Her gaze was pinned to the wall over his head, lost, a million miles away.

“Give me some idea where your mind is at, Faith. Should I try to book an earlier flight home? Go sleep on the couch and give you space?”

She straightened from the windowsill and closed the distance to stand in front of him. “You should have told me sooner.”

He breathed in her sweet, sugary scent. “Yeah.”

“Is Laura the reason why you wouldn’t make love to me?”

It didn’t escape his attention that she’d used the phrase
making love
instead of sex, like they’d done previously when discussing their attraction. Laura had nothing to do with what was between him and Faith. Hell, he’d held off on crossing that line and taking her because, deep down, he knew with Faith it
would
be making love. And all he’d ever known was sex.

He shook his head and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You make me feel more than she ever did. That scares me because my circumstances will never change.”

Her lips parted with a breath, her gaze taking in his face as if trying to reach the truth. “Alec?”

He yielded to her nearness, at her breathy sigh of a voice he couldn’t get out of his head if he tried. “Yes?”

“Will you take my dress off now?”

Faith waited patiently for Alec to connect the dots, watching his face for the moment when he realized she wasn’t angry at him for lying and that she didn’t hate him. It was what he expected, judging by his demeanor. He hated himself enough. He shouldn’t.

What happened to his Laura was a series of terrible incidents, a row of dominoes tumbling down. He was no more at fault for Laura’s decisions than the road on which she crashed. All the anger they harbored for each other was just young infatuation trying to play adult in the real world. And the miscarriage . . . that had to have been the most difficult. To have what might’ve been ripped away by nothing more than a biology mishap and be helpless to stop it.

Alec cared about people. He may have a solitary lifestyle, and he needed his space and room to think, but no one that in tune to the nature of people could be callous. His guilt over Laura was proof enough. To lose a child he never got to hold, and to lose the hope of what that child could
bring, would devastate a person like Alec. He was an all-or-nothing guy.

She wished things could be different. Wished she was a woman he could desire long term and not grow weary of. She wished he could forgive and move on, and that Laura’s parents would seek peace and let their daughter go.

But none of those things would happen. So for now, she’d take this borrowed time with him and make the most of it. Part of her wanted to hold back. Think things through. But Laura hadn’t been a part of his life for many years, and Alec said Laura was never coming back. If there had been no car accident, Faith figured he and Laura wouldn’t still be together.

He stared at her through his gray-blue eyes with uncertainty and wonder. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

She stepped closer, until her breasts touched his chest and her hips were snug against his. “Because you weren’t deliberately keeping the truth from me. You were trying to tell me all along, working your way up to it. You brought me all the way to New York so you could.”

He blinked away his surprise as fast as it appeared and cupped her jaw. “You are the most fascinating creature, Faith.”

She’d wanted him from the moment they’d first met and he’d startled her on the beach. Wanted him still. But she didn’t have the level of experience he was used to with other women and her nerves would get the best of her if he didn’t take control soon.

Swallowing hard, she looked up at him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this.”

“At what? At sex?”

“Yes.”

A low chuckle rose from his throat. “Foolish woman.”

He leaned in and seared her mouth with a kiss, going slow, going deep. One hand threaded in her hair and held her to him while his tongue explored and conquered. His
other arm hauled her solidly against the hard wall of his chest, pinned her there with restrained strength. Delicious heat pooled between her legs. She didn’t even know her feet were still on the ground until her knees buckled.

Now there was the earth-shattering kiss he’d threatened weeks ago.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her lips. Reaching behind her neck, he untied the knot holding the dress. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you put on the dress.”

“Me, too.”

His grin slipped as he tugged the dress down her torso, over her hips and to her ankles. He looked up at her from where he knelt on the floor and helped her step out of the dress. Molten desire replaced the humor of the moment and had her pulse at dangerous levels. He wrapped his large hands around her calves and slowly slid them up to cup her hips.

“You look good enough to eat,” he said and placed a kiss to her stomach, and another between her breasts when he rose to full height. “Smell good enough to eat, too.”

Her nipples rasped against the yellow lace, begging for his mouth. Instead, he stepped away and she reeled. He opened the nightstand, removed a packet, and set it by the lamp. Then he pulled down the comforter, revealing forest-green sheets.

When he turned back, he just looked at her, as she stood there in the lingerie Lacey had insisted she buy and Faith had envisioned Alec stripping off. His gaze slid up to hers and held while he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. A thin scattering of black hair covered his chest and trailed down to the V of his waist, disappearing. The belt was next, followed by the gray slacks and finally the black briefs. Sure, swift movements to rid the barriers between them. He stood before her in all his glory.

And he was glory.

Muscular thighs, toned abs, wide shoulders, defined biceps,
and an erection that stood at attention. The erection held her gaze. He wasn’t so large that she worried he wouldn’t fit, but he was close. The wide head brushed his navel, the thick shaft emerging from a light patch of black hair. He had the body of a trained runner. He had neither bulging muscles nor a thin, wiry frame—instead he was lean, toned, and tan. Her mouth watered, wanting the weight of his body pinning hers, him relieving the ache between her legs.

She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous again. When he touched her, he took her out of her head and into a dizzying passion. But he wasn’t touching her now, he was looking at her as if he’d never seen a female before. She’d certainly never seen anyone like him, what with the very little practice she had.

Slowly, like a predator, he strode toward her and cupped her cheeks. This time the kiss stole her sanity. The precision with which he slid his hands down to cup her breasts through the bra, the deliberate and meticulous way his fingers grazed her nipples, bespoke of his familiarity with the female form. He knew how to touch, to taste, to drive her out of herself and back with crushing velocity.

She never knew being touched, being kissed, could be like this. Potent. Insistent.

Breaking the connection, he grazed his lips over her jaw, down her throat, and licked her collarbone. “I want you so badly I can’t think.”

His voice alone could make her damp and dreamy. A coarse murmur with need raking it raw. Hadn’t he said something similar, before the party? Yes. “You promised you’d make me forget to think.”

He groaned into her neck, a purely male sound of pleasured frustration. “Consider it done.”

Grabbing the back of her thighs, he spread her legs, lifted her, and spun to deposit them both on the bed. He sprawled over her, hands everywhere, mouth everywhere.

“I knew you’d be good at this,” she breathed. Or tried to breathe.

“It’ll only get better, darlin’.”

His voice was thick with his native southern drawl, something she only noticed when he was frustrated or confused. Or aroused, it seemed. His thick shaft pressed between the apex of her thighs, grinding into her heat, and her neurons splintered.

He unclasped her bra and tossed it over his shoulder. His tongue swept over one nipple, then the other. She arched up to meet him, tangling her fingers in his thick hair, but he was already on the move, kissing his way down her belly.

“God in heaven, Faith. You smell so damn good.”

His fingers dipped into her panties. Tugged them off.

She pried her eyes open and looked down at the top of his head. Her only other lover had never engaged in oral, so she didn’t know what to expect, how to react. Nerves pinged. She reached for him to draw him back up, but he pressed his mouth over the pulsing, aching heat of her core and her body bowed in bliss.

He licked, nipped, and moaned, never allowing her to fall over the edge, but pushing her so, so close. In the throes of the most spectacular frustration, praying for release, she threw her arms over her head and pressed her palms against the headboard. Surely this couldn’t kill her, could it? Death by ecstasy.

“You ready to come, darlin’?”

Was he kidding? All she could do was nod.

Without warning, he climbed up her body and reached for the condom. Foil ripped. His breaths became pants and his weight settled between her thighs. Then his arms were between her and the mattress, cradling her back, lifting her to straddle his hips as he sat back.

His blue-gray eyes bore into hers, heavy with want and desperation. “I want you to come with me. I’ve wanted you for weeks, so we’ll come together.”

With hands secure on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, he raised her enough to align himself and brought her down around his shaft.

She gasped, holding his shoulders at the full feeling of him deep inside.

Oh. Oh God, yes.

He stilled, breathing heavily into her hair a moment before claiming her mouth and kissing her with long, strong strokes of his tongue. Tension and restraint bunched the muscles under her hands, until he was quivering with need. Or was that her?

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rolled her hips. The slide of him against her sensitive flesh made her tremble, lose whatever she’d been grasping on to.

His arms came around her back, one around her middle, the other sliding up into her hair. “Let me see your eyes.”

She opened them and met his gaze, so close to the edge of control and yet achingly tender. He drew his hips back as much as the position would allow, keeping her banded in his arms, his eyes never leaving hers. After holding out long enough to make her beg, he finally drove up while urging her down, her body taking him deeper than she thought possible.

Air whooshed from her lungs. Every nerve inside her came alive. Sparked. Inflamed. The friction of him hitting her nub and the pressure of him filling her so fully had her teetering near oblivion. He pumped inside her in earnest, emitting a groan with every thrust. He chanted her name against the skin below her ear, over and over.

The surprise of her orgasm barely had time to register before it hit full force. Her inner muscles tightened, squeezing him. She arched, cried out, vibrated with the intensity of satisfaction.

He caught her before she tumbled backward, tensing against her as he sought his own release. He pumped twice more and stilled. Panted. His fevered brow burrowed deeper into the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her jaw as he relaxed. He fell back against the mattress, bringing her with him to splay over him like a contented cat.

Content
wasn’t even close to the term she’d use to describe
what they’d just done, what she felt, but her body was too relaxed and sated to think of something more appropriate.

*   *   *

When they got their breathing under control, Alec lifted his head and pushed the hair away from Faith’s face. Her amber eyes were more honey-colored in the dim lamplight and mischief hinted at the corners.

Would he ever stop being surprised by her? Moreover, had sex ever been like that before? That good, that satisfying, that . . . complete? Not for him, it hadn’t.

A lazy smile lifted her mouth. “This might sound like a terrible cliché, and you might put me in writer jail for saying it, but that was amazing. I’d heard sex could be mind-blowing, but I figured that was just hype. My experience never brought me close to that.”

She used the term
experience
in its singular form and he had to wonder if that was a slip of the tongue or if she’d only had one lover before him. “My ego says thank you.”

Her smile turned into a grin. “Welcome.” Sighing, she rested her chin on his chest and stared at him. Drew lazy circles in his chest hair. After a beat, the grin slipped and her back tensed beneath his hand. “Do you regret it?”

“No regret.” Not in the way she was figuring. He was just starting to get a tangible thread of what was so . . . unique about the two of them together, and it made his heart pound.

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“No regret,” he repeated, this time more firmly.

She must’ve read something in his expression, because she shook her head. Shame washed over her face, so quickly he had no time to react. She scooted off the foot of the bed and covered her breasts, searching for her clothes.

Damn her. Damn him.

He pressed his palms to his eyes, hating how she could fucking see right through him. This time she had it all wrong,
though, and he didn’t know how to voice the feelings filling his chest. “It’s not . . . Please come back to bed.”

Slipping into her panties—and hell, yellow was his new favorite color—she hopped on one foot before catching her balance. If not for the hurt radiating in her eyes, he’d call her beautiful. Hair wild, skin flushed. She didn’t bother with the bra, but she did fetch a pair of pajamas out of her suitcase by the closet.

He gave her a minute to dress, thinking she needed the barrier, before he got up and slid into a pair of black running shorts. “Are you hungry?”

Hungry?
Really, man
?

“No, thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he repeated, at a loss. He didn’t know how to do this, the morning-after thing. And he had the sinking suspicion he’d not only hurt her feelings, but insulted her somehow. “Faith . . .”

“It’s late. I’m gonna go sleep on the couch. I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked down at herself and released a sigh of resignation.

He looked at her pajamas for the first time and blinked. The top was a sheer black number and the bottoms a silk boy brief. Very hot, but not her. “I like them.”

“Yeah, well . . . thank Lacey. For all the good they did.”

“What does that mean?”

She turned on her heel and strode out.

He followed and gripped her arm. Soft, soft skin.
Focus, Winston
. “Answer me.”

Her face turned a shade of adorable red. “Lacey took me shopping before we left.” She waved her hands at herself. “This is the result.”

“If you didn’t like them, why did you buy them?”

She glanced at the ceiling, the wall, the floor. “I thought maybe you’d . . . notice me in them. Lacey picked them, and when she and Mia gang up, they can be pretty persuasive.”

Hold the phone. “What do you mean, you thought I’d notice you?” He’d been doing nothing but noticing her since the day they met. For the life of him, he still couldn’t figure out what it was about her that made her so damn special compared to the rest. Why she made him . . . want.
Feel.