Page 31 of Undercover
He nodded, turned, and sauntered away, leaving me pressed up against over six feet of seriously annoyed date with my jaw hanging open and my heart pounding with fury.
For this evening, anyway? I enjoyed last time?Fucking asshole. How dare he…? I couldn’t even qualify that.
And he’d been one of the most selfish lovers I’d ever had. Why did guys like that never understand there was a good reason they didn’t get asked for repeat performances?
Fuck Prosecco. Tequila. Or Scotch. Maybe a pure-ethanol IV.
I turned in the circle of Alec’s arm, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip.
Not that I really wanted to. Too bad there weren’t any swords at this party. I could’ve demanded they duel in the parking lot. Unfortunately, I was probably the only one of the three of us who knew how to fence. A duel with the dueled-over party calling out advice and critique and insults—to both combatants—probably wouldn’t be all that hot.
He frowned down at me. “That guy is a fucking asshole.”
“Everyone at this party is a fucking asshole. Adam especially. I hooked up with him once and then regretted it. I’d had a really bad night. But he’s just your garden-variety dick. I don’t—can we—not do this in the middle of the room?”
Alec’s lips tightened, and he glanced around and then started to move the same way I’d been going, clearly making his own inferences about the placement of the potted plants. A moment later, we’d slipped behind one, the party receding slightly behind us, the light filtering through the leaves of whatever bush occupied the pot dim enough to make me feel invisible.
I faced Alec, still breathing hard from embarrassment and suppressed laughter over Dave’s comeuppance, a mixture that felt like incipient hysteria. God, I couldn’t deal with Dr. Wilson like this.
I couldn’t deal with anything like this, including what Alec had to be thinking right now. Why had I thought bringing him would be a good idea? He’d had exactly two short conversations so far, both of them awful. He’d hate me for this. Who’d want anything more to do with a guy whose family and acquaintances were so fucking horrible?
“Hey,” Alec said gently. What I could see of his face in the low light had set into hard lines, like he was angry. Or simply fucking over it. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” I panted. “I think I’m breathing too much.”
“Okay. I can fix that.”
And he pulled me into his arms and into a deep kiss, bending me back over his arm and taking my mouth like he owned it.
I clutched the lapels of his tux and opened my mouth for the onslaught. His tongue tangled with mine, and the way he moved his hands over my back and my waist and my hips, it felt like he wanted to erase Adam’s touch completely.
And then one hand moved down and squeezed my ass. He hadn’t touched me there, not yet. I stumbled, moaning into his mouth, and he caught me, backing me up across the small hallway we’d hidden in until my shoulders hit the wall.
“Fuck, Gabe,” he said, his voice wrecked, as he pulled away from my mouth. I wanted to protest: No, don’t stop now, not when you’re finally touching me…but I didn’t need to. He didn’t let me go. He bent his head and latched onto my throat just above my collar, sucking a mark below my jaw, one hand busy kneading my ass and the other pulling…what was he…oh, God, he’d pulled my shirt out of my trousers.
And slipped his hand inside.
And started moving down.
“Alec, wait!” Too late. He froze, his lips stilling on my neck, his hand just under my waistband. “It’s not—it’s no big deal, okay?” I gasped out. “Not a—I didn’t expect you to—”
“Is this what I think it is? Lace. You’re wearing—lace. Under your tux.”
Alec’s hand on my ass tightened, until I thought I’d be able to see his fingerprints there tomorrow. My cock pressed harder against the fly of my tux, desperate to get out.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Lace.” Oh God, what would happen now? Would he let me go, straighten up our clothes, say something about going back to the party?
Instead, it was like a switch flipped.
I’d thought I’d seen Alec a little out of control before, like when he kissed me the first time in the park near my place.
He’d been under iron control in the park, it turned out.
He groaned against my neck and bit down, shoving me against the wall and grinding his cock against my hip. I tried to touch him, get my arms around him, but it was like trying to hold onto a whirlwind. Alec ripped my fly open and pushed his hand down the front of my pants, pressing his palm down onto my straining, silk-covered cock, spreading his fingers to tease at the lacy edge of the underwear along the crease between my thigh and groin.
“I want to see them. I want to see them right now,” he growled against my skin. “I want to suck your cock through them, and then I want to pull them down just far enough to fuck you until you scream. Bent over that fucking asshole Whipley’s desk.”
I choked out a laugh, which died out into a throaty moan as he took advantage of my loosened trousers to put his other hand inside them too.
