“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
He smiled bitterly. “Is this what I do to you? Give annoying one word answers when there is clearly something going on?”
“Sometimes.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay then. This morning, when you asked about Paxton running errands for me? The reason I got upset is because when I was younger my uncle always drilled into my head that nothing should ever be handed to me. I should work hard for every advantage, just as he and my father did. It didn’t matter that we were wealthy. The minute we let someone else do the most simple task for us, we lost our sense of independence.”
The transformation in his manner of speaking was jarring. He sounded monotone, almost as though he were reciting an unpleasant oath. Regardless of my suspicions about his uncle, this seemed to be a decent piece of advice. But what did I know?
Some of the tension melted from his face. “Sorry I was so abrupt with you. It’s a bit of a sore spot with me.”
“You have a lot of sore spots.” I poked him in the stomach. “I’m going to need a roadmap pretty soon to navigate through them.”
“No you won’t,” he said softly, staring up at me with reverence. “You’re gorgeous in this light.”
Sitting up slowly, he twisted a piece of my hair around his finger. Sunlight reflected off the chestnut strands in shades of copper and auburn. More stunning for me was the way it set his hair ablaze with color.
“So are you.”
He scrunched his nose. “If you say so. Come. I want to take you somewhere.”
For the first time ever I didn’t ask where we were going. I simply followed him back to the car and remained silent. I liked how this weekend was progressing. We felt more comfortable around one another, physically and emotionally. At least I did. I could tell he did to a certain extent. There were still an abundance of layers to peel away before I’d be secure enough knowing he fully trusted me with his emotions. Patience was the key. The last thing I wanted to do was rush him. Or complicate matters with accusations of stalking.
I winced, pushing the thought out of my mind.
“We’ve arrived.”
I glanced out the window and saw a familiar looking thatched cottage.
“I remember this place,” I grinned, following him to the front door. The same ‘at home’ feeling washed over me when I entered the cozy living room. Everything about this cottage was the exact opposite of his house. It was modest and lived in. The hard wood floors were a warm honey color partly covered by a soft cream throw rug. Small lamps and sconces cast a pleasant glow throughout. Even the low ceilings had charm with their exposed beams.
“What do you remember about it?”
Leaning against the crimson couch, I smiled. “I remember you being a gentleman after my unattractive display from too many martinis.”
“Is that all?”
The longing in his eyes radiated through the room. In a heartbeat, he stood in front of me. A flurry of nerves rushed through my stomach. He brushed his cheek against mine, the stubble lightly tickling me. I lost myself in his delicious scent. The mix of shampoo, body wash and him was so enticing.
“This is where I first kissed you,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over my lips. “This is where you made me feel for the first time in years.”
Something about the cottage had a calming effect on him. He stood before me, devoid of any protective shield or mask. Seeing him so open melted my heart. He moved closer, gently running his knuckles down my cheek.
“Please tell me what’s bothering you.”
Panic streaked through me. I can’t. Not moving, I struggled to maintain eye contact with him. He stayed silent, watching me carefully. Feigning aloofness was out of the question. He saw through me too easily.
“Rough week at the office, chief. That’s all.” I grinned, hoping it touched my eyes so he’d be convinced. There was truth to that. It had been a rough week.
Cradling my face gently as though he were holding porcelain, he studied me. It made me uncomfortable. I knew it was my own fault for not being forthcoming but I had to keep this from him. He hovered his lips over mine.
“We are so much more alike than I realized,” he said, kissing me softly. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, yes?”
“There’s noth—”
His mouth covered mine, the pressure making my lips burn. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him tight against me. His impassioned kisses were just as magnificent as the tender ones. They lit my bloodstream on fire. Hazy and throbbing with want, I met his ardent stare.
“Are you going to keep kissing me like that until I tell you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have to wait.”
Leaning his forehead to mine, he laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Meyers.”
I ran my hands up and down his back, gliding them slowly over the cotton t-shirt. A low moan vibrated in his throat. I loved the sounds he made when he was turned on. Lifting the hem of his shirt I snuck my hands under, caressing the warm, soft skin along his lower back. I felt his muscles contract.
“Don’t control it,” I said against the corner of his mouth. “Let go.”
He jerked backwards, burning me with a blistering stare. The heat from his body still pulsed against me. His raw emotion was palpable. Teetering on the edge, he fought to retain control. I made him look this way. I broke his every defense.
“You’re mine, Holden. You don’t have to hide behind the mask with me.”
I wanted so much for him to see me as his safe place, someone he could trust with his emotions. I think on some level he did. Our relationship was new and unchartered territory for both of us. Alastair standing there and looking at me with that bewitching stare made it difficult to concentrate. Even when he fought to corral his feelings, the strength of his desire hit me at full force.
“You are so goddam sexy.” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice, mostly because that was supposed to be an inside thought.
A salacious grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Ditto, love.”
He scooped me up off the floor and tossed me over his shoulder. I shrieked in surprise as he carried me to the bedroom, laughing when he placed me on the bed. He strode over to a small desk and opened a laptop. Slow, jazzy piano music filled the room.
“Who is that?”
“Jamie Cullum.” He climbed onto the mattress. Poised over me, he lowered his head so our noses touched. “We’re going to lie here and forget the world for a while, alright?”
Enclosed within his magnetic sphere I reached up, touching his cheek. “If that’s what you want.”
His jaw tensed, eyes flashing. “You are what I want. Only you. Always.”
He kissed me with the feverish passion of a man who’d finally found the one thing that gave his life meaning. We made out like sex-starved teenagers, rolling around on the bed, yanking each other’s shirts off. Hands and fingers moved greedily over skin, grabbing and caressing. His body was solid, lean muscle next to my soft curves. I had no definitive thought process, only where I should touch him next.
When we finally stopped, I had ended up on top of him, slowly kissing his neck.
“What are you doing with that smart mouth of yours, Amelia?”
“Staking my claim.” I nibbled at his skin. He tensed briefly, then