Under the Gun

 

I heard Alex’s shirt rustle as he slipped out of it. It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the low lights, but once they did I felt my jaw clench and did my best to unlatch my eyes from the white T-shirt that clung to his every hard curve. It hugged his chest; the flimsy fabric pulled mercilessly over each stair-step abdominal muscle, straining over his biceps, just exposing the lickable feathers of his winged tattoo. I felt my mouth start to water again, felt my palms go from dry confidence to schoolgirl sweaty.

 

He said this would relax me, but suddenly my every muscle fiber was on high alert, every synapse firing to embrace every sound, the smell of heat and fire that clung to the air between us. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, managing to channel a sense of calm—that flitted right out the window when I heard the snapping of his belt.

 

My eyes flew open and Alex’s were intent on mine. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

I nodded, not trusting my own voice. Then, finally, “Stress release.”

 

“As long as you’re sure. I mean, this is what relaxes me. . . .”

 

I forced a smile that I hoped looked as calm and collected as I didn’t feel. “Me, too.”

 

Now it was his turn to smile and something about the relaxed, almost sleepy grin that he shot me made the tension start to loosen. “A girl like you?” he said, “I have a hard time believing that.”

 

“You don’t know everything about me, Alex Grace.”

 

I liked the sexy, smoky tone of my voice and Alex seemed to, too. He came closer to me, extended a hand. “As long as you’re sure.”

 

I licked my paper-dry lips and stared at his hand, my stomach seizing. I took it, finally trusting, and laced my fingers through his. The immediate sense of comfort washed over me; that sweet feeling of home set in.

 

“Yeah,” I whispered.

 

Alex pulled me close to him. He let my hand go and it fell limply to my side, the singe of his touch turning my hand suddenly icy cold. I felt his breath, moist and hot on my ear, as his lips trailed through my hair, his fingers tangling in it, brushing it aside. I leaned into him, and after all the gentle motion, his hands were suddenly firm on me, sure. He turned me quickly, with so much need that gooseflesh covered every inch of my skin, exposed and not, and I felt my breath rising, then catching in my throat. His chest pressed against me and my back immediately arched, my rump pressing against him, heat searing every inch of me. I knew my blush was evident and obvious and it made me want to hide—but the feel of his body against mine was magnetic and I feared I couldn’t move, even if I really wanted to—which I didn’t.

 

His heart beat in a steady, dizzying rhythm against my shoulder blade as his palms traced their way down my arms.

 

“As long as you’re sure . . .” Alex whispered. His voice was so calm, yet so authoritative. The whole situation was overwhelming, the emotion buzzing all around me, the air electric. I started to tremble—a tiny, delicious tremor that Alex must have taken as a sign because he pulled me even tighter against him until I could feel his belt buckle at the small of my back.

 

I nodded mutely. Then, “I’m sure.”

 

I felt his hands move. I felt him take a step away from me—disappointing, even though the step was minuscule. The sudden air between us was cold. Then suddenly he was against me once more, one hand wrapping me against him, the other at my hip.

 

“Touch it,” he said, his voice a heart-stopping rasp. “Hold it in your hand.”

 

I tried to spin, to protest, but he held me firm so I couldn’t look at him. “I—I don’t think I can.” I knew I sounded weak and immature and schoolgirl silly. I felt him nod behind me.

 

“You can.”

 

All at once his hand was on mine, fingers interlacing, gently positioning me. I cupped my hand to receive him as sweet anxiety filled my every pore.

 

“It’s bigger than I remember,” I said, my voice a throaty whisper now.

 

I licked my lips again and Alex pressed forward, the soft stubble on his chin rubbing against my temple. I felt his lips press up into a satisfied smile. “That’s good. That’s right. Do you like it?”

 

I tried to nod, to give some indication that I was here, invested in the moment, but everything felt rooted to this one spot.

 

I was Sophie Lawson.

 

And as usual, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

 

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Alex murmured. “Don’t be nervous. I know this isn’t your first time.” There was a hint of mischief in Alex’s voice and I smiled. “It’s okay, Lawson,” he said.

 

I closed my eyes and let Alex’s voice slip through me. I let it warm me from tip to tail, let it give me strength. And then I used my hand to push his away, repositioning mine.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Alex rasped.

 

“Are you sure you are?” I drawled, looking over my shoulder.

 

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