His words hit her with soul-destroying precision. Knocked down every last barrier she had. Because he was right. And believing any less made a mockery of the promise she’d made to herself that night in London.
She tipped her head back to look up at him, the fog in her brain clearing. “We still have the issue that I’m a reporter and you hate them.”
“I’m willing to suspend judgment on that.” He dragged his thumb down over the soft skin of her throat to the throbbing pulse at the base of her neck. “Because this particular reporter,” he said softly, “I like very much.”
“Alex—” She pressed a hand against his chest. “That night in London the rules were clear-cut. We said it was one night and I— I could handle that. But this—” she shook her head “—I’m pretty sure I’m out of my league right about now...”
He reached up and laced his fingers through the hand she had pressed against his chest. “I’m pretty sure I am too.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
He released her hand and drew her to him. She pulled in a shaky breath as he cupped her face in his palm. “I told myself I shouldn’t touch you that night in London because I knew with you it was going to be different. That I wasn’t going to be able to walk away afterward like I always do.”
“But you did.”
He nodded. “That morning when I left, I was running, Iz. I thought if I ran fast enough I could ignore what I was feeling. But it didn’t work. I almost picked up the phone a dozen times before I saw you that night at the Met.”
She tried to keep her wits about her as he slid a hand into her hair and tipped her head back. “How about we start over?” he suggested softly, this stripped-down, open version of Alex doing crazy things to her common sense. “A blank slate. No expiration dates. No rules. And see where it goes.”
It was...crazily, frantically tempting. “But you don’t do ‘let’s see where this goes.’”
“I don’t have a choice with you,” he admitted huskily, lowering his head until his mouth brushed against hers. “I think that’s pretty clear.”
For the second time in little more than two weeks Izzie Peters went with her gut and made a massive decision with major repercussions. But this time she was hoping it was going to last more than one night.
She lifted up on tiptoes, swayed into him and let him take her mouth in a hot, sensuous kiss that pulled her into a deep, dark vortex she never wanted to emerge from. She reached up and cupped his jaw with her fingertips, her lips clinging to his as he changed angles, tasted her as if he couldn’t get enough.
And when that wasn’t enough, she indulged her need to touch the rock-hard body that had been far too temptingly on display this past week. Sank her fingertips into the hard, thick muscles of his shoulders. Slid them down over his pecs, those washboard abs.
Alex groaned. Dragged her closer. “Izzie,” he said thickly, “let me take you to bed.”
She tipped her head back to look up at him. “Yes,” she agreed, the smoky, seductive tone of her voice sounding completely foreign to her.
Fire burned in his eyes. He picked her up and carried her inside, striding through the sitting room and into the bedroom. “One second,” he murmured, setting her down on the huge king-size bed. He disappeared, then came back with the champagne bottle.
“I really don’t need any of that,” she said, pressing damp palms against her thighs as she knelt on the bed in front of him.
“Who said we were going to drink it?”
Heat raced to her cheeks. Her body trembled like a violin. She was so not prepared for this. She gulped in a breath as he set the bottle on the floor beside the bed and sank his knee down between her thighs. Then moved her fingers to the buttons of his shirt. “Take it off,” he invited, his voice dropping to that of a sensually charged invitation. “And I’ll show you.”
She followed his command, doing only a marginally better job than she had that night in London, but finally it was off, exposing his magnificent abs. Her heart skittered in her chest as he leaned down and took her mouth in a slow, hard kiss, a vision of him as a conquering lord flashing through her head as he arched her neck back and showed no mercy. Except this wasn’t one of her paperback novels...this was full-on reality.
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, demanding entry at the same time he slid his palms down over the small of her back, over her hips and thighs, then brought them back up, sliding underneath her dress to close over the rounded curve of her bare bottom.
“Theos.” He lifted his gaze to hers, color staining his cheekbones. “I spent the whole night wondering if you were wearing anything under this.”
“I couldn’t.”
His hands tightened on her hips, lifted her so she was straddling him. She shivered as he settled her against his hard erection, her brain shutting down completely. The need to move against him, to press her sensitized flesh against the hard ridge of him, was undeniable. He felt amazing.
“Izzie,” he said hoarsely, “you need to stop that or this is going to happen way too fast.”
But she was drunk on how he was making her feel, how she was making him feel, and she didn’t want to slow down. She wanted fast, wanted to ride the tidal wave of lust sweeping her forward. Sliding back, she moved her hands to his belt and yanked it open. His swift intake of breath as she undid the button of his pants and slid the zipper down emboldened her. His curse as her fingers brushed against the hard length of him made her smile.
She reached into his boxers and freed him. “Izzie,” he groaned. “You need to be ready for me. I’m too big for you to—”
She put her fingers to his mouth. “Shut up.”
His eyes darkened to that deep cobalt-blue she could drown herself in. He sat back, braced his arms on the bed and watched as she lifted her dress and brought the aroused, hard length of him against her hot, aching flesh. God. She closed her eyes. He was so big. How exactly was she going to accomplish this?
Alex caught her hand in his, brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her palm. Her eyes fluttered open, telegraphed her fear. His lips curved in a tortured smile. “Slowly, sweetheart. Take me slowly and it’ll be fine.”
The fact that Izzie had never been in love before didn’t stop her from thinking she might be falling madly in love with Alex rather than just seeing where this went, such was the soul-destroying tenderness of that gesture. Taking a deep breath, refusing to go there, she reached down and guided him inside her, taking him inch by inch as she’d done before. But in this position, he felt bigger, thicker. And the sensation as she sank down on him was incredible.
She let out a sigh of pleasure. He gave her a strained look. “Good?”
She nodded, finding it almost unbearably intimate to be joined with him like this while he watched her with a heavy-lidded desire that made her insides quiver. Squeezing her eyes shut, she started to move, rotate her hips, taking him deep inside her, then shallower, establishing a rhythm that made him groan. He caught her chin in his fingers. “Look at me, Iz. I want to see your face.”
She did. Because something in him grounded her. Always had. She let the heat, the focus in his gaze as she rode him, excite her unbearably. Make her experiment. The thick muscles of his biceps flexed against the bed. “Theos,” he bit out in a raw voice. “You feel so good...I’m not sure how long I can stand this.”