Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (21 page)

Moving my damp hair aside to lick and kiss along my neck, his breaths come harder, faster from behind me, his hands sliding along my slick flesh.

Oh, how I want him...
I close my eyes, savoring the explosive effects of his tongue, lips, and hands on my skin.

Gripping my hips firmly, he wrenches me snuggly against him, grinding into me further, his forceful push and pull exaggerating the exhilarating position of his cock. The feel of his thickness brushing along my core, combined with the swills of water, releases our mutual moans.

I reach back for him, a silent signal of desperation. I need to get my hands on him, frantic to touch him, to feel him under my fingertips.

Turning me swiftly in his arms, I’m assailed with the incredible feel of his tongue brushing my lips, his sinfully erotic invasion of my mouth. It’s an assault of the senses, fueling the fire within me as I grab and pull at his slickened flesh, moaning into his kiss.

My want for him is mirrored in his own touch, his hands devouring me, working their way over every slickened inch of my body. Our crazed ardor is fluidly controlled; our eagerness evident, though restrained, as we lose ourselves in the sexual lyrics, the sensual beat, silently grinding into one another amid the dance of our tongues and hands.

Playfully, I pull my lips away to continue my tempting mimic of the lyrics, ‘
Then ride with my surfboard…
’ I sing to him, my eyes alight with seduction.

Releasing a growl, he walks us backwards, returning my playfulness with a teasing, lingering sweep of his lips against mine before taking me in another earth-shattering kiss.

I gasp into his mouth at the feel of the cool porcelain tiles against my back.

Pulling back, he offers his fuck-me grin before grabbing my ass to lift me against him, a husky groan leaving his parted lips as he settles tightly in the apex of my spread legs.

I’m captivated by his sensual gaze; instinctively wrapping my legs around his slick body, securing my arms around his neck.

Bracing me against the tiles, his devilish stare is molten. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he mutters through succulent kisses along my neck. “I should have come home even earlier,” he growls, inhaling a slow deep breath as though luxuriating in my scent.

Earlier?
The sudden remembrance of Liam’s visit instantly hits me, my body instinctively tightening from the unwelcome intruding thought. It doesn’t escape me that this amazing welcome home treat could have been either interrupted, or worse, nonexistent had Alex arrived just an hour earlier. Almost as depressing is the fact that I will actually have to
share
Liam’s surprise visit with Alex. I can’t exactly keep it from him. I’ve learned all too well that waiting is not exactly the best solution.

“Aby?” He leans back to look into my eyes, gently releasing his hold of me.

Damn
. I hate that he can read me so well. I keep my arms draped around his neck, flexing my fingers through his damp curls. I don’t even notice that I’m biting the corner of my lip until he reaches up and pulls at it with the pad of his thumb, that sexy eyebrow of his is urging me to start talking.

Double damn, I wasn’t planning on talking anytime soon.
Why am I so nervous to tell him about Liam’s visit? So, a friend stopped by. No biggie. Right?
Ugh
. Maybe it’s best to just spit it out. No. I should just ease into it.
Yes, that’s a better idea
.

“Aby, you’re ruining the mood here…Just tell me what’s on your mind,” his tone is clipped.

I don’t do well with ‘clipped’ - it’s a trigger for my verbal diarrhea. “Liam stopped by today…It was a lovely surprise visit,” I quickly blurt, overemphasized and high pitched.
Ugh. Ugh!
I’m such a dumbass.

Alex’s expression abruptly changes from playfulness to annoyance in mere seconds, his eyes boring into mine. Seconds feel like minutes as he absorbs what I’ve said, and based on his body language, he’s none too happy. Not surprisingly, he pulls my loose hold from around his neck, aimlessly tossing my arms down.

My hand darts directly to my mouth, fiddling nervously with my pursed lips as I await a reply. I cautiously watch him slowly, methodically, run his fingers through his damp hair, seemingly attempting to calm himself. Not sure if it’s working for him, but it sure as hell isn’t calming me.
This is not going to be good.

He says nothing before reaching for the side of the pool, bracing his weight effortlessly to jump out.

Good God
. It’s ridiculous how incredibly sculpted this man is, every muscle bulging and flexing in his efforts, the water sliding down his perfect body. I’m momentarily lost in the deliciousness of the visual, until he looks down at me briskly, turning to grab one of the conveniently folded towels set aside for periodic dips. The sternness with which he wraps it around his waist is the final little pinprick in
my
euphoric bubble, and I certainly didn’t miss the deflation of
his
between his legs.

Begrudgingly, I wade towards the steps, slowly emerging from the pool.

Alex tosses me a towel, which I manage to catch before he turns to head back inside, leaving me standing, dripping. Not the best move on his part. Yeah, I get it. He’s digesting the information about my surprise guest. But his flippant reaction is pushing a few of my own defensive buttons.

I purposely take my time drying off, refusing to run after him like some lovesick - and
guilty
- girlfriend. As I towel dry, I start weighing my options, gathering my defense, effectively getting a grip on my defensive leash.

Wait.
My
defense
? What the fuck?

Defensive leash snapped.

Discarding the towel, I grab my cover-up off the sun chair, wrapping it around me swiftly as I march inside the doors Alex disappeared into moments ago. I bow the tie around my waist like I’m donning a karate gi, ready to kick some ass, shutting off the music with the remote as I pass.

And
ass
is exactly what I get, perfectly displayed as I enter the bedroom to find Alex bent over, stepping into his gym pants - sans boxers. Not surprisingly, I’m momentarily thrown off my game.
Damn that body of his.

Adjusting the strings at the waist, he turns to face me. The look in his eyes is enough to sound the bell in a ring. Screw a quick kick, I’m ready to grab the proverbial gloves and go for a right hook. Unfortunately, he comes in with a left first.

“Did I tell you that Helena dropped by my trailer on the set today? It was a lovely surprise visit.”

And, I’m down. Cheek to the floor, the Ref’s countdown reverberating in my ears.
Who’s
the Ref in my head?
Whore-a the Explorer
herself, Helena Adelaide, her slithering hand banging down on the mat as she smiles at me.

Well, this was no knock out. I’m not down for the count. I know exactly what point Alex is trying to make. And it’s pathetically ridiculous. “Are you seriously suggesting that there is some similarity in a
hypothetical,
” I quote the air for dramatic effect, “…visit from your former phone-a-friend fuck-mate and a man that I spent over twelve years of my life with?”

“Do
you
realize your own statement justifies my point?” he spits back.

“What?” I screw up my face and shake my head. “Alex, Liam and I are
divorced
,” I slur the word for emphasis. “You know, D-I-V-O-R-C-E-D,” I spell it out just to be clear, “…as in no longer together. Done. Finito. We are just friends.”

“Yes, absolutely. As are Helena and I.”

“Oh!” I fist my hands at my sides. “Really? Is that what you call your
relationship
with Helena? A friendship?” I can’t help my huff of disgust. “Don’t even get me started on the whole labeling of that…that…”

“
That
,” he slings the word at me, “…is over. But it goes without saying that you would not appreciate her dropping by for a
lovely
little visit, now would you?”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“The hell it’s not.”

“Nice camouflage, Alex.” Now it’s his turn to look pissed off and confused, so I continue on to help him out, “You’re jealous of something - or should I say
someone
- that you have no reason to be jealous of.”

His clenching jaw pulls my attention, right before I note his flared nostrils. If he wasn’t pissed already, he certainly is now. “Don’t I?”

“No. You have absolutely no reason to feel jealous when it comes to Liam,” I throw back, my arms crossed in my defensive stance.
Obviously a visit from Liam is not anywhere near the same as one from Helena.

He closes the gap between us in one long stride, grabbing my bent elbow to spin me around, pulling my back firmly up against him. “You think that a man that once kissed your neck like this,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder, raining kisses down my neck, “…or touched you like this,” he caresses my ass, reaching around to cup my breast, “…a man that loved you - that assuredly loves you still - spent a lovely, and quite
private
, little visit with you today, is no big deal? You don’t think that warrants my jealousy?”

“No, it’s…it’s over with Liam” I manage, despite the distraction of his touch.

“Like it’s over with Helena? Then you would be okay with her paying me a
little
visit?” his tone is condescending, refueling my defenses.

I try to pull away, but his grip around me tightens, holding me in place against him. “It’s not the same thing,” I mutter, feeling the heat from his hold.

He spins me around to face him, his grip firm on my arms. The fury in his eyes is both frightening and desirable at the same time. “The only difference is that I fucked her…he
made love
to you.”

I gasp at the dominant harshness of his statement, but I’m not giving in just yet. “Well, that’s just semantics, Alex,” I bite. “And regarding any love involved, in case you didn’t hear me the first time, I’ll repeat it for you…that part of my history with Liam is
over
.”

“It’s over for you,” he bends to whisper firmly in my ear, “That doesn’t mean it’s over for him.” The brush of his breath against my neck is exhilarating. The words, however, are infuriating me further, more so because they echo my sentiments regarding his lame-ass use of Helena as some basis for a comparison.

“Thank you for proving my point, exactly,” I jerk my arms from his hold.

“Your point?” he practically snarls. “Jesus, Aby,” he turns from me, running his fingers through his damp hair, pacing back and forth, away from and towards me, in frustration.

“Yes! You’re the one who threw Miss Adelaide into this argument. I’m merely reminding you that…that…”
Shit. I don’t even remember my own point
, I grimace, undoubtedly pouting. Damn him and his sexy manipulation of the situation, touching me to prove
his
point, his damn seductive whispers.
Seductive…Temptress.
Yes! That was my point
…“Liam and I ended a marriage. We transitioned from couple to friends.
Helena
was your…well, your whore - for lack of a better
label
- and she can easily attempt to renew that role at any time. It’s. Not. The. Same. Thing.”

Stopping, he glares at me, “If you weren’t so goddamned stubborn, I’d…” he huffs, pacing once more.

“What? What, Mister Jealous? Or should I say, Master of denial of said jealousy - what would you do?”

He growls at me this time, stopping to look me straight in the eye. “I certainly know what I’d like to do,” he spits.

“Yeah, what’s that?” I bite back.

“Fuck some sense into you. That’s what.”

Holy shit.
I’ve never been one to imagine sex in a moment of anger. Never before felt the rage and lust cocktail. But right now, it’s burning through me like moonshine in my veins.

For several seconds, minutes even, as though the earth has stopped on its axis, we stare at each other amid panting anger and craving. We’re trapped beneath a ferocious tidal wave of desire; frozen, looming above us, around us, and we both know its about to come crashing down to drown us in its lustful fury.

I sense the moment Alex is about to pounce, the moment my eyes secretly, silently, whisper so much more than any words ever could. I want him
now
. As much as I know he wants me.

He reaches for me, his attack viciously laced with dominant desire, his wide grip spanning my waist to pull me into his arms. Our lips meet in a ravenous kiss, pent up anger fuelling our lustful want for each other as he grips the back of my thighs to lift me, my legs wrapping tightly around him.

Winding my fingers through is hair, I pull and tug in desperation, his hands mirroring my actions in my soaked tresses hanging down my back. I feel possessed, moaning into his mouth, sucking on his tongue. There’s no concept of our surroundings as we ravage each other, completely engrossed in our deep, anger-fuelled need to fuck each other senseless.

Turning towards the dresser, Alex sashays his hand abruptly along the top with a fluid glide of his muscled arm, the articles crashing to the carpeted floor with a clatter as he secures me in his grip, his hand at my backside. The erotic display of dominance has me biting his lip in hunger, driving us higher.

Setting me atop, we struggle with needy hands and fingers, tugging and frantically pulling apart the bow of my robe, spreading the material to reveal my nakedness beneath. His hands engulf my slender waist as he pulls his lips from mine to attack my nipple, sucking it deep before swirling his tongue along the pebbled tip.

I can’t resist the urge to hold his head in place, my legs shaking amid the pounding tempo of my clenching core. “Alex! Fuck me!” I cry out in a breathless pant.

He groans through a final nibble, his husky breaths slipping through parted lips as he lifts me off the dresser, making his way towards the bed. Dropping me to the mattress, I yelp, barely able to catch up as he swiftly shoves his gym pants down, his returned erection bobbing against his stomach.

Bending, his large frame looming over me, he spreads my legs with his strong hands, “Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fuck you? Maybe I should make you beg for it.”