by Kahlen Aymes
“Nope. I got this.” She felt mischievous and delirious all at the same time. Knowing he’d be in front of her in a fraction of an hour excited her more than she wanted to admit.
“Yeah… you do. But we’ll negotiate the dessert later. But I warn you, I have one hell of a sweet tooth of late.”
8
Hot and Not So Naked
Excitement flowed through Alex as he waited outside Angel’s door. There was something between them that made it impossible to resist.
His heart pounded heavily in his ears as he pressed his hand to the cherry wood. The smooth, elegant surface gave no hint as to what lay behind it. So much like the woman who lived there. Angel held herself in such control—sophisticated and subdued—but underneath there was passion like Alex had never experienced. Her sharp wit and potty mouth were unexpected. He shook his head in amazement at the juxtaposition.
Stepping back slightly as the door swung open, his eyes widened in surprise. Gone was the polished business suit and elegant cocktail dress, replaced by tattered jean shorts and a nondescript T-shirt, similar to the first time he’d seen her. Her legs were long and golden, and Alex took in every inch as he worked his way up her body. Her chestnut tresses were piled atop her head in a messy knot, held in place with some sort of elastic band, and she had some rectangular metal glasses sitting on her pretty nose.
Angel leaned on the doorframe, her arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other. “Hmmph.” Her left eyebrow shot up above the charcoal-framed glasses. “Take a picture, it might last longer,” she scoffed with a teasing smirk. “I told you I was a mess.”
Alex himself was casually dressed in jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, which lightly clung to his muscular torso. He was ripped, and all she could think about was how it felt to be in those strong arms. It created vivid recollections in her mind of how the muscle played beneath her fingers and how his breath came in uninhibited pants the night before. His jaw was dusted with just a smattering of stubble, and his hair was the same perfect disarray that she ached to thread her hands through.
He put a hand on his chest. “Um…” he began as her eyes raked him over in a similar fashion. Angel stepped aside and ushered him inside. He grinned and her heart did somersaults. “Take a picture, it might last longer,” he retorted.
She laughed softly as he moved past her. “Hey, what’s good for the goose, is good for the gander.”
He turned to watch her close the door and bolt the lock; the gentle curves of her hips, the slimness of her back, and round fullness of her rear, getting his full attention.
“What?” he asked incredulously when their eyes met.
“Oh, nothing.” Angel shrugged slightly. “Just something my nana used to say when I was growing up. It means…”
“Yeah, I know what it means.” His green eyes burned, and her full lips lifted at the corners in the start of a smile. “That you give as good as you get. I like that a lot.”
Alex longed to grab her and press his mouth to hers but somehow managed to resist the urge. He needed her to trust him. It was the only way she’d open up and he wanted that for the first time in his life. He actually wanted to know her. The thought stunned him, and Alex tugged on the hair at his right temple in agitation.
Angel sauntered back into the kitchen, shooting a look over her shoulder indicating that he should follow. He did, but before she got far, he reached out and slid his hand down her arm until his fingers closed warmly around hers, pulling her gently back toward him. Her free hand came up to rest on the solid wall of his chest and she felt the heat of his skin radiating through the material of his shirt.
Angel tried to mask the shivers running through her; to hide the electricity she felt at his slightest touch. The firm muscles under her hands did little to calm her down. Angel’s mouth dropped open slightly as her lids became hooded and Alex couldn’t help but register the implications. Still holding her hand, he cupped her cheek with the other and brushed the pad of his thumb over the fine bones in her cheek and then gently across her full lower lip.
“I told myself I wouldn’t touch you tonight, but I can’t seem to help it,” Alex murmured softly, his forehead coming to rest gently against hers. Her breath rushed out and he sucked it into his lungs. He wanted every nuance of her, and the knowledge rushed over him in waves, but he held himself firmly in check. He was used to taking what he wanted, but this time, what he wanted was Angel to give.
Angel’s body pulsed and her breathing quickened. She longed to press into him; to feel his hardness against her soft curves and have his mouth and tongue inflicting the sweet torture she knew he was capable of.
“Mmmm… ” Involuntarily, her face lifted, offering Alex access to her mouth but his hovered without making connection. Eyes closed, his breath was hot as she waited. “Maybe I want you to touch me,” she whispered against her will. “Just a little.”
Alex’s thumb continued to rub over her hand while his fingers tightened around hers, and he moved to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the corner of her lips. “Okay. Just a little then.” Angel was left bemused when he released her suddenly and moved around her into the kitchen, leaving her flustered and confused.
“So… tell me.”
Her face twisted in consternation and amusement. “Tell you what?”
“Anything.” He shrugged and leaned casually against the counter near the refrigerator at the far end of the kitchen. “Everything.”
She moved about preparing the pasta, and trying to avoid his eyes. “Um, I’m thinking that this is not such a good idea. You’re… well, you’re you and I’m…”
His soft laughter filtered through the room. “Yes. Last night, I think that worked out quite well for both of us. I’m not asking you to lose your identity, Angel. Only share a meal and your thoughts.”
“Come on, Alex. We both know you don’t give a damn about my thoughts. But, if you must know, I’m considering that last night was a mistake.” She was chopping something on a hardwood board with her back to him. Alex didn’t like that he couldn’t see her face as she said the words. “I wanted to talk to you about it in person.”
“I do care about what you’re thinking. I’ve said it. Can you look at me?” His tone took on that of Alex Avery, CFO: man who commanded respect and one that didn’t like what he was hearing.
She threw something into a pot and the sizzling mixed with the rumbling and hissing of the water boiling in the other pot, and then turned to face him.
“Look—” she wiped her hands on a white towel and threw it aside carelessly, “—last night was nice.”
“Nice? Hmmm, not the adjective I’d use, but continue.”
“I guess I’m curious what you want from this?”
“I told you. A meal and your thoughts. I didn’t come here to seduce you or fuck you into submission.” His eyebrow quirked and a sexy grin split his handsome face. “That is what you think happened last night, right?”
She chuckled softly as she resumed cooking, unwilling to admit how much this man got under her skin. “Um, actually I sort of see it as the other way around.”
“Touché.” His grin widened. “So how about we agree that we won’t go there tonight. We’ll eat, talk—”
“Touch?”
“Only a little,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I’ve already made that commitment. When you know me better, you’ll realize I always keep my word.”
She bristled slightly, not sure if it was an implied promise to keep his distance or that he wanted to be closer. She poured the sauce over the pasta and picked up a block of cheese and began grating it over the top. “Hmmph,” she snorted, disappointed at the lack of contact that seemed to be her fate tonight. “That remains to be seen. Do you want it dressed?”
“I thought we agreed we liked things naked,” Alex teased.
“Yes, well, use your imagination,” she shot back without missing a beat, and Alex burst out laughing. She was so different, so refreshing, and he
couldn’t tear his eyes from her face as she used the back of her hand to push a stray lock away from her face.
“Uh uh. No teasing, miss. I promised to be good, so play fair, please.”
This time it was Angel’s turn to laugh as her eyes widened in mock exaggeration. “What’s good for the goose…” she reminded as she plopped a well-laden plate filled with garlic-scented pasta and a light salad down in front of him. “And, stop fishing. You are good. Very good. So let’s just get that off the table right now, okay?”
Alex’s body reacted to her words and to her nearness… to the luscious memories from the night before as she took the seat to his left and the soft scent of her perfume wafted in his nostrils.
The light in her apartment was low and the soft jazz playing from somewhere in the living room echoed off the walls. Alex felt comfortable in an unsettling sort of way. His body reacted, but he felt at ease in Angel’s home. Talking with her was nice, and their easy bantering was completely stimulating in a number of ways. He chose to ignore her comments lest he give in to the need to reach out again, but his eyes stole glances at her as she offered him some bread.
“What?” she demanded when she caught him staring.
“Nothing. I’m not going to let you trick me into anything. Did you get your reports finished? Were the results what you’d hoped?”
Angel shook her head and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “I can’t really say.”
Alex’s brow dropped as he wound some pasta onto his fork. “It just seems dangerous, Angel. What made you choose to do this type of work?”
Angel’s eyes lifted to meet his and what she saw there was earnest concern. He truly wanted to know. “I wanted to help people who couldn’t help themselves, to become a voice for those without one.”
Something in her voice made Alex push. “Sounds like there’s more to it.”
“The pasta will get cold. We should eat,” she murmured, but Alex had already taken a bite.
“It’s delicious. Is gourmet cooking another of your many talents?”
“Hardly. Only the bare essentials. I’m surprised Dad and I survived. This is so easy, though. I make it a lot.” Angel was thankful he moved to another subject, praying silently that he wouldn’t revisit the previous one.
“So?” he persisted. “Why psychology?”
“Um.” Angel hesitated as she played with the food on her plate. She’d never discussed it with anyone other than Becca and not for years. “Well…”
A warm hand closed around hers and the heat traveled up her arm and infused her face.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but I really hope to know you better,” he said gently, his fingers brushing back and forth over her knuckles. “I want you to trust me. I get that I have to earn it.”
Something about this man caused an upheaval of her insides and all of her carefully laid plans to resist him came tumbling down. Suddenly, she found herself longing to open up, but what would his reaction be? Did she dare tell him?
“Well, my freshman year at Northwestern, someone was… well, she was assaulted at a frat party and it… changed me.”
Alex’s fingers were still around Angel’s hand as he replaced his wine glass by his plate and turned his full attention on her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was it Becca?”
“Mmmm, uh uh.” She shook her head, and then stopped, eyes flashing up to his. His face was concerned, interested, focused.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
“We were at a party, we had drinks, and someone drugged her.” Angel looked away quickly. “She was raped.”
Alex ran the back of his fingers across her wrist. “Oh, my God. I see.”
His touch was comforting and his company wrapped around her like her favorite quilt.
Angel shook her head again as she regained her senses. “She was too scared to call the police, afraid that her friends and family would be ashamed of her, afraid they’d think it was her fault. So, I wanted to be in a position to put bastards like that behind bars, or help anyway, with situations like that.”
Alex nodded silently and reached out to brush her cheek the same way he had her wrist. It was so gentle and surprising. She wondered if he understood.
“Alex, tell me more about your parents and sister. You only talked about your brother last evening.”
It was clear to him that she wanted the subject changed and he sensed she was hedging. Some nondescript emotion flitted over her delicate features and it pained him. He quickly cleared his throat. “My father is a brilliant businessman, and my mother is a beautiful, caring woman. She and my sister, Allison, do a lot of philanthropic work when they’re not messing in my personal life.” He chuckled softly as he continued to enjoy his meal. “Which is often.”
“I sense you’re all very close. Are they all in the area?”
“Mmmm.” Alex nodded. “Allison’s husband is in insurance, and though my parents take two extended trips a year, most of the time they are here. They still live on the same estate that they purchased when I was in high school. It’s quite beautiful. My father worked very hard, and Mom kept it up perfectly. When I first saw you last spring, we were buying stuff to redecorate the sunroom of that house.” His eyes watched her face carefully. “He wants to move, to buy her houses in a few locations worldwide, but she won’t hear of it. I told her that she can still nag me wirelessly, but she thinks I’m kidding. Plus, she loves that house.”
Angel smiled at his humor, drawn in by the softness of his voice, the warmth of his enveloping nearness. “That sounds nice. My dad,” she sighed, “I can’t get him to leave the sticks. Joplin was a nice place to grow up, but there is so much more that I’d like him to see.”
“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question, his expression understanding.
“All the time.” Angel wasn’t eating much of her dinner and it didn’t go unnoticed by the man beside her. He could see her mind whirling behind her furrowed brow as she watched her fork push her food around the plate. “Alex… about this—”
He sat back in his chair a little, not liking where he knew her words were headed. “Angel, are we having fun?”
“Fun isn’t the issue,” she dropped off quietly. “Is it?”
Alex was unsure what to say, wondering how this woman, who always had words aplenty, seemed at a loss in the current moment. “Isn’t it?”
She reached for the wine to refill their glasses. “Is it?”
He picked up his glass and concentrated on the liquid as he swirled it in a miniature cyclone, carefully considering his words.
“Why did you agree to dinner the other night if you didn’t want to know more? Would I be here if you don’t enjoy my company?”
Her eyes flashed to his face. “I do. But—“
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing!” Angel answered quickly and then bit her lip. “I’m just realistic, Alex.”
“What are you trying to say, Angel? Just spit it out.”
“Okay. If you want to fuck for the sake of fucking, I can do it for a while. But if you want to get to know me, we can’t have sex.” She shrugged and smiled, her brows arching in challenge.
Alex pushed his plate away as he burst out laughing. “What? Intimacy on only one level at a time, eh?”
“Sex isn’t intimacy.”
Alex instantly sobered. “It is with us.” His green eyes bore into hers, unflinchingly daring her to dispute him. “You’re afraid of me, Dr. Hemming.”
“No, I’m realistic.” She knew she was lying to herself and to him. “I don’t believe in what you represent. However, against my better judgment, I find you very—” she looked away. “—you’re charming and likable, even though my brain screams you’re a womanizer. So if we want to be mutual users for a while, fine.”
Alex paused, the laughter dying in his chest. “Is that truly how you see me? I thought I’d been clearer.”
“I get it. After knowing you a little better, I understand more
. I don’t necessarily agree with your arrangements but I can see your point of view, even if it still differs from mine.”
“What differs? We’re attracted to each other, and we enjoy our time together. Can we just let what happens, happen?
“Nope.”
“Nope? That’s it?”
“We can’t let it happen. I’m attracted to you. Not gonna lie. You’re funny and charming and all the wonderful shit dreams are made of; except one thing. You don’t feel. Call me crazy. That’s huge.” She flitted between the dining room and the kitchen as she methodically cleared the table, ranting as she went. Alex was amused and mesmerized.
“Do you dream of me, Angel? And I do feel. I love my dog.”
Lucky damn dog. “Shut up and focus.”
Alex grinned and a big smile split out on Angel’s face, even though she was trying to be serious. He thought she was the most beautiful, sexiest thing he’d ever seen, glasses and all.
He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, mocking her. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t know if I trust you.”
Alex shut his mouth and looked at her. He knew closing the deal meant shutting down the argument that sprung to his lips. Angel cocked her head.
“I know you could just be messing with me to get me back for the ridiculous notion I made that twit breakup with you, but let me assure you, it wasn’t me… it was you.”
“Okay. It was me,” he agreed good-naturedly.
Angel stopped and glanced back over her shoulder on her last trip to the kitchen, to roll her eyes at him.
“You’re agreeing with me? So you will tell me, Alex Avery, what the fuck you’re up to.”
“Okay.” This time it was softer and more persuasive. Her steps slowed on her way back.
“Okay? It was that easy?”
“Yes, okay." His expression was sardonic, amused. "Let’s take the wine and go in the other room, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”