Page 41 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
I reach for the bottle and refill her glass. “I don’t know. If history is any indication, then yeah.”
Her expression is contemplative. “Want some?” Aspen offers me her glass.
“Do you think I’m a dick?” I ask, accepting the glass.
Her eyes narrow as she watches me take a sip of the wine. “I don’t think you’re a dick, Alex.”
My relief at those words is immediate, and I relax, sinking a few inches lower into the water.
We share the bottle of wine, both of us drinking from her glass as we make small talk. Between the wine and the fact that Aspen that seems to have forgiven me, I’m lulleds into actually relaxing.
Later, when we’re thoroughly pruned from the hot water, I cover the hot tub and make us something to eat while Aspen goes off to shower and change.
As we’re sitting at the kitchen island eating grilled cheese sandwiches, I remind her about the youth hockey camp I’m helping with in New York next weekend.
“Will your nephew be there?”
I shake my head. “He’s too little. This camp is for ages ten and up, but I’ll be sure to see him while I’m there.”
Aspen’s dressed in gray knit pants and a long-sleeved pink T-shirt. She’s not wearing a bra beneath it, and I’m trying hard not to notice. I finish my food and rinse my plate.
“Well, I think I’m going to call it a night,” she says, rising to her feet. “Thanks for the sandwich.”
“Anytime. Good night.” I watch her head off up the stairs, then finish tidying up the kitchen.
When I make it upstairs a few minutes later, the light in her bedroom is still on, but I don’t dare venture closer to investigate. Aspen may have forgiven me, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be having a repeat of last night.
No matter how desperately I might want to.
14
* * *
ASPEN
My bare feet carry me down the hall as unease swims inside me. What am I doing?
Against all self-preservation. Against all sense of logic and common sense. And even at the risk of enduring terrible heartache later, I stand here at Alex’s open bedroom door, waiting for an invitation inside.
He’s shirtless, dressed only in a pair of gray joggers that hang low on his trim waist. He meets my eyes.
“Thanks for earlier.” My voice is a little shaky. “The hot tub was nice.”
“Yeah, it was. And you’re welcome.”
“So was the apology.”
He runs one hand over the back of his neck, and I admire the way his bicep flexes. “I was wrong, just so you know. Last night wasn’t a mistake.” His deep voice rumbles over the words.
“Are you sure about that?”
He nods. “Positive.”
I take a step closer, entering his room, and my heart begins to pound wildly.
Before I have the chance to chicken out, Alex closes the distance between us, his powerful body moving with confidence until he stops directly in front of me. Using two fingers beneath my chin, he lifts my mouth to his. His lips are warm and soft—but insistent.
My entire body tingles, and my core aches with desire as I lose myself to this moment. His mouth moves with the deliberate, hot strokes of his tongue. I love it, craving more. I’ve never been kissed like this, and I hold nothing back.
When my hands grip his shoulders, tugging him closer, he begins to touch me. He slides his palms beneath my T-shirt to caress and tease my breasts, then lower, into the back of my pants, which he pushes out of the way as he slides his hands along the curve of my ass.
“Is this okay?” he asks between blazing-hot kisses.
I make a noise of approval, and Alex sinks to his knees. On his way down, he kisses my neck, my chest, my navel. And with my pants now around my ankles, he brings his mouth to the apex of my thighs and treats my center to a slow, sensuous kiss.
I moan, and my eyes close as I fist his hair.
“You taste so fucking good.” He groans, devouring me in hot, wet kisses.
My legs tremble, and I try to steady myself with one hand on the wall behind me, and one on his shoulder.
His face lifts to mine. “Let’s move to the bed.”
I step out of my tangled pants and let him guide me to the mattress.
I’m not sure what brought me to Alex’s room tonight. He already told me it couldn’t happen again, shouldering all the blame for the reasons why it couldn’t.
But our sexual encounter last night seemed to have awakened something deep inside me. I couldn’t get enough of him. The way he looked at me. The sexy hair on his chest. His huge hands. His muscled body. I want it all. Again. And again. And he doesn’t seem to notice or care about the extra twenty pounds I could stand to lose. He made me feel desirable. Wanted. Needed.
