Read Desperation of Love Online

Authors: Alice Montalvo-Tribue

Tags: #Of Love#2

Desperation of Love (5 page)

He sighs, showing his frustration. “Anything else?”

“Yes. When I fuck it all up, remember that I warned you.”

He smiles at me and my insides melt. “Have a little faith, Jordan.”

“Talk to me about faith when you’re telling me to fuck off!”

He shakes his head at me and laughs. “Just eat your dinner.”

I smile at him and start eating again. I hope I’m not making a huge mistake by getting involved with him. The odds are that it will end very badly but I just can’t bring myself to fight him off.

 

 

I thought it would be awkward after dinner, after I’d hastily agreed to give us a try, but Alex has a way of making me feel like nothing is that big of a deal. He has the ability to just move things along, close discussions and go forward without over dramatizing anything. This kind of approach is new to me. I can do drama like nobody’s business, but he evens out my natural inclination to overthink things.

After clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, Alex pulls me into the living room and onto my oversized couch so we can watch a movie. I snuggle into his side, my legs tucked up behind me, resting my head on his chest with one of my hands on his stomach. Alex begins playing with my hair and I realize this feels nice, right even. He’s engrossed by the movie playing out in front of us and all I can focus on are his hands touching me. His simple caress makes me want more and I wonder how it would feel to have him explore my body. Before I can stop myself, I slide my hand down and under his shirt so that I can get a better feel of the plains of his abs. I’ve never seen him naked, at least not that I can remember, and from what I can feel, his body won’t disappoint. I can sense his gaze drop down just as I tilt my head up and look at him. The look in his eyes mirrors my own. It’s desire and it’s something that has never been lacking between us. I lift myself up until our lips are practically touching. That’s all the direction he needs to take control. His lips are on mine and, once again, I’m lost in him. He pushes me down slowly onto my back until he’s hovering over me. He begins to place kisses on my nose, cheeks, the corners of my mouth and, finally, my neck.

A moan escapes from my mouth as he slips a hand under my shirt. The warmth from his touch spreads through me like a wildfire. I grab onto the hem of his shirt.

“Take it off.” I pant, tugging at his shirt again. He lifts his torso and I help remove it, tossing it on the floor beside us. Just as quickly, his lips are on mine again. I run my hands through his hair and spread my legs so that he can position himself in between them. His hand slips under my shirt and begins to travel up until it rests on my still covered breast. The feel of his hand drives me wild. I break the connection and bring my shirt up and over my head, throwing it down next to his. Cupping the sides of his face, I guide him back down to me so we can resume kissing. Why did I try to deny this magnetic pull between us? How did I allow myself to walk out on him when I had him in my bed? I release his face and reach down until I have hold of his jeans and I undo the button. He stops kissing me and looks at me with those amazing honey brown eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure,” I whisper. “At least I’ll remember it this time.” I chuckle.

I can feel his body tense and become rigid. He stares down at me questioningly. “What?”

I shake my head and sigh. “I just mean, the first time we did this, I was so drunk I didn’t even remember it.”

He pulls himself up and off me, resting on his knees. “What are you talking about?”

I feel stupid reliving the incident again. I hate how drunk I got and the fact that we hooked up like that. “I’m talking about the night of the wedding.”

His whole expression changes. He’s looking down at me in disbelief. “You think we had sex?” he asks.

I prop myself up on my elbows. “What do you mean? Of course, we had sex. I woke up with you in my bed and I had nothing but a t-shirt on.”

“Wow. Baby, seriously? You really think I’d take you when you were trashed. I’d prefer it if you remembered our first time. You were passed out drunk, and I helped you out of your dress, put a shirt on you, and we went to sleep. It was late. I was too tired to drive.”

“Holy shit!” I half yell in astonishment. “All this time, I thought we had sex.”

“Is that the real reason you left me there and ignored me for months?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a strange girl, you know that?”

“Ugh, I know,” I confirm, mortified by the whole situation. I abandoned him in my house after he brought be home and took care of me. It’s classic Jordan behavior.

“I’m going to bed,” he said suddenly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? I thought …”

“The moment is dead,” he says over his shoulder as he makes his way upstairs, leaving me practically desperate for more of him. I’m not sure how long I sit there in stunned silence, but I really am mortified. Eventually, I climb the stairs to the upper level and notice that the door is closed to the room Alex is staying in. Part of me wants to go in there and crawl into the bed with him. Perhaps snuggling up to him would be enough for now, but I refuse to give into that desire. It’s too soon to go there, and for a brief moment, I’m thankful that we didn’t just have sex. We should spend more time together before we jump into bed. But it doesn’t change the fact that I wanted him tonight. I opt for a cold shower in hopes of cooling myself off before going to bed.

 

 

I barely slept last night knowing that Alex was right across the hall from me and that we had come so close to being together. Now I’m lying in bed, feeling a mixture of exhaustion, embarrassment and defeat. I dread getting up and going downstairs because I’m nervous about how he is going to react to me now. He left me so abruptly last night that I’m worried he’s actually mad at me for jumping to conclusions about what happened that night all those months ago. All the time I wasted, taking my friendship away without so much as a phone call to explain. A light rapping on my door breaks my train of thought. I inhale sharply as my heart rate spikes. I know it can only be one person on the other side of that door.

“Can I come in?” Alex asks as he knocks again.

“Yeah.”

He opens the door and comes into my room, cutting the distance between us in just a few short strides. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stares at me for a moment. I don’t know whether to feel uncomfortable or jump him. Part of me is afraid that I’ve ruined this relationship before it’s even started. Undoubtedly, it would be a new record for me, but I need to feel close to him. I need him to reassure me that we’re okay because, as indecisive as I’ve been about us pursuing a relationship, the truth of the matter is, there’s nothing I want more. I pull the covers back, crawl into his lap, and throw my arms around his neck. I close my eyes and silently pray that he doesn’t reject me. Alex takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. I think I’ve surprised him by showing this side of me, a mixture of vulnerability and affection that I don’t let out often. I’m elated when he wraps his arms around me. We stay like that for a moment, neither one of us wanting to break the connection. It’s not sexual, it’s different, it’s something more.

I open my eyes and tilt my chin up to look at him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he says, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“Are you mad at me?” The question comes out a little too quietly for my liking. It makes me sound weak and I hate it.

“No. I’m not mad, Jordan. I was just kind of disappointed that you thought I could take advantage of you like that. That’s not the kind of man I am.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I know you’re a good man, and even when I thought we did have sex that night, I didn’t blame you.”

“I know. I just need you to understand that I wouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. I didn’t even look at you that night, it just felt wrong. Not when we weren’t in a relationship and definitely not as our first time.”

“I get that. I’m sorry for assuming.”

He rewards my apology with just a hint of a smile. “It’s alright.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I have to meet Victor soon at a real estate property we’re looking into for the recording studio. You want to come and check it out with me?”

“What would Victor say when he sees us together?”

“Nothing. I’ll tell him the truth, that I needed a place to stay and you graciously offered.”

“I didn’t offer. You just intruded!”

Alex lets out a guttural laugh. “True, but you know you secretly loved it.”

“Can’t we just say we ran into each other and you invited me along?”

He lets out a sigh. I know he hates this. He’s not the type to lie about what’s going on in his life, especially to his brother. I love that he’s honest, but I need to keep this secret. I need to know if this is going anywhere before I let my best friend know that I’m in a relationship with her brother-in-law. It’s just too messy for me to go there right now.

“Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want.”

“It is. It’s not forever, Alex. I just need a little time to process everything.”

“I get it. I’ll go along with it for a little while. Now give me a kiss, would ya?” It comes across as more of a command than a request, and for reasons unknown, when it comes from him, I love it. I shift in his lap so that I’m straddling him. I can feel him between my legs and the sensation makes my whole body flood with warmth. His eyes are searching mine, waiting, wanting that familiar connection between us. I shift my hips to get closer to him, causing me to rub against his growing erection. It creates a delicious friction between my legs. I control my urge to moan as I give him my lips. I open up for him, letting his tongue slide in and claim me. Alex can kiss. From that first night over a year ago when he kissed me on Elle’s couch, I knew that his kisses were dangerous, invasive, and sweet. It’s not a good combination. I never stood a chance.

With every lick of his tongue, every second that passes, I can feel him growing harder beneath me and it drives me crazy. Slowly, I involuntarily start to rock my hips back and forth, rubbing myself against him. The tension in my muscles is mixed with little surges of pleasure. I don’t even recognize myself right now, but I also don’t give a shit. His hands grab onto my hips, encouraging my movements. I speed up, but I can’t get close enough. I don’t think I could ever get close enough to him to be truly satisfied.

One of his hands leaves my hips, and I feel the loss immediately. I don’t want him to stop kissing me, to break this connection. Unconsciously, my arms wrap tighter around his neck. His hand comes back to me, but this time it doesn’t land on my hip. It’s sliding down, gently maneuvering to where I desperately need it the most. He manages to get past my underwear, and before I can register what’s happening, he uses his fingers to open me up, rubbing inside my folds, until he finds my entrance and slips inside. I stop moving and let out a cry, breaking our kiss.

He brings his other hand up and grabs me by the nape of my neck, pulling me toward him until our foreheads are touching. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t stop moving, baby. I’ve got you,” he says, slowly beginning to thrust his finger in and out of me, making everything feel so good, heightening my sensations. I can feel him everywhere, his finger inside me, his forehead on mine, his eyes burning a hole through me, his hand on my neck. It’s almost too much, an undeniable connection, physically and emotionally, and I know I can’t hold back. I start to move with him, matching his movements, accepting him inside of me, welcoming him in. He slips another finger in and I’m lost again, lost to him, taking whatever he wants to give.

He lifts me up a bit, giving himself better access, letting his thumb find my clit. He begins to play with it, rubbing slow, meticulous circles around it, increasing the pressure with every whimper that escapes my mouth. I’m practically crying from the overload of sensations. I lower my head and bury it in his neck, getting as close to him as possible as I let out another cry.

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