Page 48 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“Me too,” I murmur, searching his eyes for answers to questions I’m not brave enough to ask.
Alex threads his fingers through mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage to say, trying to convince myself that it’s not a lie. “It’s been strange, imagining going back to Boston. Back to the way things were. I get what you mean, about feeling like yourself here. I feel that way too. And I like this version of Aspen the best.”
“I do too,” he says quietly, and I lock eyes with him, a little surprised. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Continue.”
And this Aspen really, really likes you.
It would be so easy to say those words right now, bundled up next to the fire with the warmth of hot chocolate and liqueur buzzing in my veins. But I can’t risk the possibility of rejection, not so soon in my recovery from my last mess of a relationship. My heart couldn’t take it.
So instead, I say, “I guess I’ve been really spoiled this summer. I mean, for starters, whatever apartment I find isn’t going to come close to being this nice.” I gesture around us halfheartedly.
“You’ll find a place. It might not have a hot tub and be on a lake, but it’ll be right for you.” Alex nudges my arm with a wink.
A grin creeps across my lips, eager to replace my frown. I don’t want to waste any more precious time being worried.
“No hot tub?” I pout. “What about a fireplace?”
“Is that a requirement?”
“Oh yeah.” I giggle. “Fireplaces are perfect for cozying up in front of.” I nuzzle his neck, trailing kisses along the corded muscle there.
Alex exhales deeply, leaning into my touch. “Hmm? All by yourself?” he asks, his voice huskier now.
I shiver as he trails one hand up my thigh to the edge of my shirt, tugging the fabric away to caress more of my skin.
“No,” I whisper, gasping when his thumb brushes the underside of my breast. “With . . . a book.”
“A book? Not a man?”
Both of his hands are under my shirt now, his fingers drawing teasing circles around my nipples before pinching them experimentally. I arch my back, and Alex takes the opportunity to lift off my shirt and palm my exposed chest. I pull his face to mine and kiss him deeply. When we part, it’s with gasping breaths.
His eyes are dark with desire. The time for words is done.
Alex leans back only far enough to pull off his shirt. I rake my fingers against the hard ridges of his abs, enjoying how they flex against my touch. Gripping my leg, he pushes us down into the blanket, lining his cock—already hard and eager—up with my achingly wet core. He grinds against me, watching my face closely as I moan.
I lift my hips off the blanket as an invitation.
He takes the hint and tugs my shorts and panties down my legs, brushing my skin with lazy, unhurried kisses on the way down. Then he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down his long, athletic legs, but not before grabbing a condom from his back pocket.
Soon, there’s nothing between us. Only hot, magnetic skin on skin, and more desire than I’ve ever felt.
Alex lowers his hand between my legs, feeling exactly how ready I am. With his other hand, he unrolls a condom down the length of his erection, all the while staring intently at my eyes, my lips, my breasts. Just the heat of his gaze is enough to make my pulse quicken. Then he teases my opening with the tip, not quite entering me. I moan, so close to losing my mind.
“What do you want, Aspen?” His voice is warm and tender, like all he cares about in this moment is me.
I dig my fingernails into his lower back, any semblance of control long gone now that I’m sprawled naked beneath him. Gasping, I say, “I want you inside me.”
He wraps his hands around my hips, the press of his fingers electrifying. With one gentle push, Alex fills me. My toes curl as he drives himself deep inside me, every last inch of him buried in my core. When he doesn’t move, I prompt him with my hips, a desperate whimper escaping my lips. He smirks, leaning over to kiss me lightly before he starts to move his hips in slow, even strokes.
“Oh, baby,” he says softly. “I just want you to feel good.”
“You . . . you feel amazing,” I say on a groan.
It’s barely been two minutes since we began, and I’m already coming apart at the seams. I rock my hips in rhythm with him, moaning when he hits that incredible place deep inside me. He finds my clit with his thumb, circling it with a featherlight pressure that has me quivering. It feels like the flames have leaped from the fireplace and are licking their way up my arms and legs, promising to consume me whole.
