Page 113 of Come to Me
"I know."
"Then, we'll back in Los Angeles. Back to our normal lives."
"I know that too." She pushes out of the booth, smoothing her skirt and her blouse. "It's fine. Really."
"What's up, Ally? There's something weird about you."
She shrugs, but there's nothing aloof about it. Something is up. Something is up and, as usual, she won't talk about it.
"Nothing is up," she insists. "I'd just rather be in bed with you than be at this party."
I don't know if I buy that.
And what was that weird energy between her and Nicholas?
"Is that all it is?"
She shakes her head. "Forget it. I'm sure we'll be too drunk by the time we leave anyway."
Alyssa offers a smile, but it's a consolation prize, a whatever you say. She joins Ellen at the bar. They joke about something, laughing and whispering in each other's ears.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
This is a huge life change for Alyssa. It's possible that what I'm picking up on is simply stress.
I hope it is.
* * *
The night goes quickly.Alyssa and Ellen swap stories all night, teasing each other and professing their undying friendship. By the time we leave the bar, everyone is too drunk for sense but sober enough to get home okay.
It's dark outside, and a cold wind whips around us. The temperature is somewhere around freezing, but it doesn't faze Alyssa. She grinds her body into mine, slipping her arms under my coat, then under my shirt.
My skin burns from her touch and my body fights to take over. To convince my brain to take her into the alley, press her against the wall, and fuck her until she's screaming.
She's so desperate. She'd come in minutes.
She kisses me hungrily, her tongue sliding into my mouth as her nails dig into my skin. Mhmm. I pull her closer and slide my hands under her skirt. Damn. The fabric of her tights is thin, and it would feel so damn good to peel it off.
We were apart for so long. We have so much time to make up for.
She runs her fingertips over my stomach. It would feel so good to touch her, to have her touch me, but it's a bad idea.
Something is wrong. Sex is only going to distract her from her feelings.
When we break, she looks up into my eyes expectantly. "It's our last night in New York..." Her voice is low, seductive.
"You're drunk."
"Not that drunk." She leans closer, sliding her hands under my shirt again, sliding her fingertips over my skin.
My heart races, my blood fleeing my brain.
Will making Alyssa come really make matters worse? That doesn't seem right.
I grab her ass, pressing my crotch into hers. She sighs and leans into me. Her lips are on my lips. Her tongue is in my mouth. Her hands are on my chest, my whole damn body burning with want.
I need to be inside her now.
