She stopped in front of him and, lowering her lashes, pouted with her plump, red lips.
He couldn’t look away, he was a sucker for red lips, especially when they were wrapped around his throbbing length.
Just that thought had pre-ejaculate leaking from the tip that jumped in readiness.
“No!” he growled and backed away.
“You’re going to be inside me, sooner rather than later. You know you will.” She matched his movements, constantly staying in touching distance. “You used to love being with me.”
“No way.”
Sadness briefly crossed her eyes before she blinked and it was gone. “Yes.” She quickly reached out and grabbed him through his pants, and his treacherous flesh throbbed. “You can’t dispute the hard evidence.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to blame Saige for his arousal, but he didn’t want Christina doing a complete reverse, because then he’d be the one having to chase and he never chased. Ever. But why exactly did he want to be with her again in the first place? Old times’ sake? Some sick part of him that didn’t care what she’d done? Loneliness? She was a sexy woman, but underneath she could be cold and calculating.
Before the witch hunt for his brother had started, he liked and respected the Lockwoods, but all that had changed when they’d gone after Quinten. At one point during the trial, he’d gone to Christina to try and convince her that they had the wrong man locked away. She’d listened and had started to tell him something when Richard had appeared. Her whole demeanor had changed, and within seconds, he’d been shown the door.
He often wondered what Christina would have said or done had Richard not appeared when he had.
“You want this”—she jacked him through his pants—“inside me just as much as I want you there. That hasn’t changed in eight years.” She offered him a smirk.
“I said no.” He knocked her hand away and ignored the hurt that crossed her face at his abrupt dismissal.
What the heck did she expect after how she treated him and his brother?
He fastened the button on his pants and prowled toward her. “No.”
Christina was startled by his abrupt rejection, so Alex smiled and backed her into the wall behind her. He trapped her there, his arms on either side of her head. “Richard is a handsome man, he works out…so tell me, why did you come in here wanting me?” He leaned close and breathed her in with a caress down the side of her neck.
She shivered in reaction, and his arousal throbbed behind his zipper as her scent traveled into his lungs.
“I...I missed you,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
Were her tears for his benefit? He’d be angry if they were.
Alex slid his hand over her bottom and cupped her over the material of her dress. “The next time you come to me, for this”—he rotated his hips against her belly—“be warned.” He pressed down between the cheeks of her bottom with his fingers. “This is what I’ll take.”
Christina gasped and then moaned when he did another rotate with his hips. “You’re playing with me,” she accused, her complexion pale.
It wasn’t a question, more of an observation on her part, but he always had to have the last word. “I haven’t even started”—he moved a breath away from her lips—“to play with you yet.”
Her eyes darkened and he knew he had her, so he quickly backed off and watched as she sagged against the wall. She stared at him and all he felt at that moment was her sadness.
A tear ran down her face. She shoved away from the wall, put her shoulders back and glared at him. “Nothing will ever happen between us.” Her hands shook as she smoothed the hair from her face, and turned on her heels.
Once she made it to the door, he called, “Oh, Christina.”
She paused and turned her head to look back at him, her eyes widened when she focused on the hand he slipped inside his pants.
Oh she’d be back!
“Once you’ve admitted the lies you told eight years ago, this”—he cupped himself and made sure the tip of his erection showed above the zipper—“will be yours.” He offered her a smug grin as she quietly closed the door behind herself, but not before he noticed the sadness in her eyes.
He frowned and wondered. Christina had acted like the wounded party as she left and that troubled him. He’d been an ass, but he wasn’t going to be dragged under her spell again.
He was only in her home for Quinten, and his brother had to come first. And then, maybe, he’d uncover what was really going on with Christina, because although she looked the same, she wasn’t the same woman he remembered.
Day 8
1:30am
* * *
“We really need to stop meeting like this, Detective,” Amber mumbled.
Coulter noticed a softness around Amber’s eyes when she met his gaze, which reminded him of earlier when she’d been in his arms.