“You look hot.” Alex’s eyes go wide. “Shit, sorry. Please don’t ask me to leave.”
I laugh; we’re two peas in a pod with our awkwardness. “Can I get you something to drink? I have beer, water, milk, and orange juice.”
“A beer would be great.”
I grab two bottles from the fridge, pop the caps, pass him one, and then motion for him to follow me to the living room. Alex sits in the middle of the couch, forcing me into close proximity. Couches aren’t safe where he’s concerned. It’s where we went from talking to making out to semi-naked. I still want to straddle him and grind all up on his shit.
“You’re listening to The Hip.” His scruffy smile is adorable.
It takes me a few seconds to clue into the music reference. “Actually I found a dedicated station. Crazy, right?” I’m so nervous, like a high schooler with a crush. On a guy with a dick the size of Canada.
“I listen to it all the time. I’ve seen The Hip in concert thirty-seven times,” Alex says proudly.
“Thirty-seven times? You must really love them.”
He nods as if it’s normal to see the same band so many times. His gaze sweeps over me. “No Spiderman pajamas tonight?”
“They’re in the wash.”
“Too bad. I liked them a lot.” He’s looking at my chest again. “I like this, too.”
“You liked getting me out of them.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling.
I shouldn’t be flirting with him after all the media crap I’ve seen, but he’s sitting in my living room, smelling awesome, looking hot, and my beaver is excited.
His tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip. The split has healed. “I liked that part, too.”
Silence stretches between us as memories of getting naked with Alex resurface. Being alone with him is unwise. My beaver is far too interested in a repeat of those events. In the past week, I’ve received more gifts from him than from all my previous boyfriends combined. Alex has money to throw around, so maybe it’s typical behavior. I’d be less conflicted if the tabloids didn’t paint him in such an unfavorable light.
“Is that why you came by?” I hope it’s not the only reason. I don’t think I’m cut out for casual sex.
“To get you out of your clothes? No.” He distracts me with his dimples. “Mostly I wanted an excuse to see you.”
“Oh. Well that’s . . . good.”
“I thought I was making it obvious.”
Alex does the thing guys do when they’re getting ready to make a move. His eyes drop to my mouth, and he leans in. Then he tucks a few errant strands of hair behind my ear. My hands seem to have a mind of their own. They move along his arms, feeling up his biceps.
I forget my inner turmoil and make it clear I’m okay with more contact by climbing into his lap. His calloused fingers curl around the nape of my neck, and our lips connect. I love his mouth.
His monster of an erection nestles between my legs, and dear Lord, does it ever feel awesome. It could bust a zipper it’s so huge. I imagine it with little fists, punching its way out, and giggle.
Alex bites my lip. “Are you laughing?”
“No.” I stifle a chuckle.
“No?” His lips travel up the side of my jaw, his soft beard tickling my skin. He grips my ass as he lifts his hips. He’s so hard. Everywhere.
“What’s so funny?”
I moan, all loud and desperate. I’m so horny; it’s not funny at all. I wrap around him koala style, pressing closer. Sneaking a hand between us I palm him through his pants, excited by the low, primal sound Alex makes. I drag the fly down, ready to slide a finger—or my whole hand—into the opening.
While I’m busy working my way into his boxers, Alex’s palm moves under my shirt. I’m so glad I ditched my bra.
I freeze at a sudden knock. Only Buck sounds as if he’s sledgehammering through the door. With reluctance, I break the kiss. “Go away. I’m watching TV naked!”
Alex opens his mouth to speak, his hand still on my boob. I shush him with a palm over his mouth.
“Bullshit!” Buck yells. “That’s weird even for you, Vi. Open the door. I forgot my wallet in your bathroom.”
“You need to hide!” I jump out of Alex’s lap and pull on his arm, but he doesn’t budge.
He frowns. “My car’s in the driveway.”
“Buck’s not observant enough to notice.”
To prove me wrong, from the other side of the door, Buck asks, “Whose car is parked behind your shitbox, anyway?”
Alex arches his split brow. Goddamn him and his sexy face.
“Shitballs! What are we going to do?” I whisper in panic.
“Don’t worry. I can handle it.” Alex stands, rearranges his trouser monster, zips his fly, and runs a hand through his hair. He’s totally calm.
“I need to cover these.” I motion to my rock hard nipples.