Page 42 of A Little Twist

I swallow and my voice is breathy. “What is your lane?”

His hand slides up my waist, under my sweater, and his thumb circles my nipple through my sports bra. It hardens at once, and I exhale a little whimper.

My tongue slips out to wet my lips, and his darkening eyes move to them. I can’t breathe. He continues circling, watching my lips part, making my pussy wetter as his mouth drifts lower.

Placing my hands on his chest, I rise onto my toes. My eyes flutter closed, and I press my lips to his just like I did so long ago when he was a sad, handsome boy who’d lost his grandfather.

When he told me I was pretty, and my entire body came to life.

His full lips are soft and warm, and as soon as they touch mine, his hand tightens on my waist, pulling my pelvis flush against his.

His erection is against my belly. A low growl rumbles in his throat, and he takes control.

The kiss turns possessive, demanding. The hand on my breast moves into the side of my hair as he opens my mouth with his.

Again, I whimper when his tongue slides against mine, curling and coaxing, and my hands rise higher, tracing my nails along his square jaw. I hold his scruffy cheeks like he’s mine, like we’re in this for real.

Images of his naked body flood my memory, and I want him against me, inside me. No one has ever kissed me this way, like he’s staking his claim, and he’ll never let me leave him.

“This is my lane, Cass.” His voice is rough, and his lips move to my ear. “It’s always been my lane. Understand?”

My eyes are closed, and I’m nodding before he finishes speaking. “Yes…”

He grips my chin in his fingers. “Look at me.” My eyes flutter open, and the raw hunger in his is a strike of electricity through my core. “Don’t ever mistake me as a friend again. I want more than that.”

“Okay…” I’m still processing when a noise behind us breaks the scene.

It’s a little-girl sniffle that parts us at once. I’m breathing fast when I turn, rushing to where Pinky stands at the entrance to the kitchen rubbing her eyes. I can’t tell if she’s fully awake, and I don’t know if she saw us kissing. I only know Alex isn’t in a position to help her.

I lower to a squat in front of her. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Her bottom lip is pushed out slightly, and she puts her hand on my shoulder, whimpering. “My balloon popped and it made a loud noise and I fell out of the sky and now my tummy hurts.”

“Oh, no!” I pull her into a hug, and both her arms go around my neck. “Dream balloons shouldn’t pop. Let’s go back and see if we can dream up a better balloon, one of the shiny kinds that never pop.”

She tucks her head into my neck, and I look back at Alex, who’s standing behind the bar watching me with a mixture of frustration and gratitude in his eyes.

I walk slowly up the stairs, humming a song fromNemoas we go higher, and she’s asleep by the time we get to her bedroom. I tuck her in with Piglet and switch on the pale, blue-moon nightlight before closing the door.

Jogging down the stairs, the mood in the kitchen has changed. The lights seem brighter, and Alex has put away the whiskey and is washing the glasses at the sink.

I stop by the door leading out to the garage, wondering what to do. When I left things were heating up. Now it seems the moment has passed, but I don’t want to misread the situation, not after that kiss.

“I’m pretty sure she was sleepwalking.” My voice is lighter. “I doubt she saw us.”

He switches off the water, turning slowly to face me. “Good. I wasn’t thinking just now. Whatever I do, I can’t forget she’s a part of this. I can’t let her be confused or hurt.”

“Of course.” It feels like a dismissal, and I take another step towards the door, clearing my throat and pulling my sweater onto my shoulder again. “You don’t have to explain. I completely understand. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He dries his hands with the towel, his dark brow furrowed. I take one last look at his handsome frame before I go. It would be so decadent to forget everything, to ask him to come with me and blur all the lines, take what we want.

It would be so hot, but it’s not him. I’m not even sure it’s me. At least not on my first night in his home, as his employee.

My hand is on the doorknob, when his voice stops me. “I leave for work at eight. Pinky’s usually up by then, so that can be your start time.”

A shadow of regret flickers in his eyes, but just as quickly he’s back to business.

I’m more disappointed than surprised. The real surprise was the kiss. Alex Stone does nothing without thorough examination.

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