Blind Attraction (8 page)

She wanted to grind into him, to get the slightest friction on the parts of her body that craved attention. The desire to see if a man could bring her pleasure made her ache.

“That wasn’t nice,” he growled, and her nipples tightened in response.

His face was a blur of color, a mix of light and dark which confused her, so she closed her eyes and pictured him the way she remembered. His hazel eyes filled her mind, his shoulder length hair falling down to frame his cheeks.

“You shouldn’t tease the blind girl.”

Something soft grazed her skin, then something rough. His cheek? His stubble?

“How bout I make it up to you?” he whispered in her ear.

She opened her mouth, but excitement stole her reply. Unfortunately, her stomach had no problems with being vocal. It started out as a low grumbled and turned into the call of the wild.

“Holy shit. Did you swallow a lion?”

She let out a sob and turned her head away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and placed a kiss at the base of her neck. “No more teasing the gorgeous blind chick.”

Alana swallowed down the burst of pleasure threatening to explode inside her. He was seducing her. This thing between them wasn’t about love or emotion or commitment. It was about gratification and passion and lust. There could be no future with Mitchell, yet her heart had already started to attach itself to him, drawing strength from his every touch and seductive word.

“I’ll go order us some breakfast...or lunch. What would you prefer?”

She opened her eyes, not that it helped to answer her questions. “What time is it?”

He moved from her body and she suppressed a whine of disappointment.

“Twelve twenty-five on the bedside clock.”

Damn! “Where’s Kate?” She sat up, brushed the hair from her face and scooted to the side of the bed.

“There’s no point getting up. She left hours ago.” The mattress bounced, then stilled and she followed his dark shadow around the room. “I’m going to take care of you until she finishes work. So lie down and rest. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She dropped back onto her pillow and listened to his departing footsteps. Lunch time meant she still had hours until Kate finished work. Almost half a day to spend with the man beyond her dreams.

She stared at the ceiling and fought to hold back her smile. Even the plain white paint appeared fuzzy in her mangled vision, but at least the dry scratching had subsided. There was no pain, only a mild discomfort she’d be happy to ignore when in Mitchell’s company.

His deep voice whispered through the suite and her belly filled with eager butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she couldn’t wait for him to do it again. On the lips this time. She wanted to drown in his arms, devour his mouth, and lose her breath to him.

Feeling the need to use the ladies’ room, she scooted from the bed and felt her way along the mattress. From there, she held out her arms until she reached the wall. She ran her hand along the smooth plaster and found the entry to the bathroom Mitchell had led her to last night.

Getting back to the bed wasn’t as easy. She hadn’t bothered to flick on the light when she entered the bathroom, knowing the hues clouding her vision would become more confusing. So she didn’t notice the counter before she rammed into it with her hip.

“Argh. Shit!” Pain radiated through her waist. She clutched her hip and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

“Allie, are you all right?”

The sweet familiar way he spoke her name made her smile through the discomfort. Not many people called her Allie, and she loved the way it sounded on his lips.

“Yeah. Peachy,” she chuckled. “I decided to give myself a hip reconstruction.” She ran her fingertips along the counter and stopped at the basin to wash her hands.

“Can I come in?”

She splashed water on her face and rinsed her mouth out. “I’m—”

The door opened, the bright light causing her to blink.

“I’m fine, Mitchell.”

His shadow moved into the tiny room, and she turned her focus back to the cool water, trying not to hyperventilate. He stood behind her, the warmth of his body seeping into her backside. Strong hands landed on her thighs and trailed up to her hipbones.

“Does it still hurt?”

She swallowed, unsure whether to laugh away her excitement or remain silent. “I said ‘I’m fine.’” Her voice came in gasps.

He massaged her hips, his touch seeping through the thin material of the silk boxers, causing an electrical current to shoot through her womb. Her head fell back to rest on his chest and she closed her eyes.

“So you want me to stop?” Fingers ran along the waistband of her boxers, teasing her with excruciating strokes.

She chuckled softly. “I didn’t say that.”

“Mmm,” he murmured into her neck, the vibrations making her breasts ache.

“You’re very thorough with your patient care.”

One hand slid from her hip, over her stomach and up to brush the side of her breast. A groan escaped her lips and she clutched the counter for strength. The fingers of his other hand delved below her waistband, slowly searching, stroking.

He leaned his erection into her ass and nipped at her neck. “You wouldn’t be the first to compliment me on it.”

Alana stiffened and fought to control the jealousy nipping at her lungs. He froze. After long seconds of thick silence he rested his forehead against her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was tacky.” He pulled his hand from her boxers and sighed. “I can’t think around you.”

She reached her hand behind her neck and ran her fingers through the long strands of his hair. “No biggie. I was eighty-nine percent positive you weren’t a virgin.” She smiled, trying to break the discomfort. “At least I’m clued in now.”

He gave a derisive laugh. “Yeah, I’m definitely not a saint. Being slutty goes with the job, I suppose.”

Dropping her hand, she turned in his arms and peered up to the dark blur of his face. “Don’t say that.” She felt her way along the hard contours of muscle on his chest, until she cupped his cheeks. “Don’t be ashamed of who you are or what you choose to do in your spare time.”

His head shook slightly. “I haven’t been, or I wasn’t until...”

Her heart stilled, waiting for him to finish the sentence. She wanted to hear him say “you,” no matter how foolish it would sound after the short amount of time they had spent together.

“...recently.”

She released her breath slowly, disguising her disappointment. His hands gripped her hips and she moved closer into his body. She brushed his hair behind his ears, and the pressure of his forehead rested against hers. Her cheeks heated with the need to kiss him. She yearned for the press of his lips, for the swipe of his tongue. If only she could see.

She ran her fingers around to the back of his neck. “I want you to kiss me.”

Her chest pounded, the fury of each heartbeat echoing in her ears as she waited for his response. When nothing came, she closed her eyes and began to silently pray.

His hands lowered to her ass, lightly cupping. Time stood still as his head tilted down, and she swallowed hard in the seconds it took for his mouth to descend upon hers. The pressure was delicate, like silk against her lips. He kissed her once, twice, his force growing with each caress as he tilted her head back for better access.

She teased the hair at his nape with tender strokes and scraped her nails over his skin. She wanted more. Taste, touch, passion. She wanted to be consumed by him and driven to the brink of insanity with the ferocity of his worship.

Grinding her hips into his, she rubbed against his erection, arching her back at the hardness she longed to take in her hand. He growled into her mouth, gripping her ass with force and crushed his body into hers. She gasped, all the air escaping her lungs.

He deepened the kiss, their tongues clashing as he lifted her off the ground and placed her on the counter. His weight pushed between her thighs, his erection nudging against the thin material covering her sex. She gyrated her hips and tugged at his hair, her body demanding more. He answered her silent pleas by thrusting into her again, letting the delicious friction of his cock rub against her clit.

Each sensation was new. The pleasurable sex, the passionate intimacy. There were no nerves, no apprehension. She craved more. She wanted to learn everything Mitchell could teach her, no matter how little time they would have together.

The ache in her core infiltrated her entire body, driving her to kiss him deeper, to grind back into his thrusts. His hand left her ass, traveling down the front of her boxers, past the waistband, into her panties. She whimpered at the brush of his fingers against her sensitive bundle of nerves and jolted when they delved deeper, penetrating her pussy.

She broke the kiss, panting for breath and rocked herself against his digits. “Please, Mitchell. I want you inside me.”

He didn’t respond, only planted his lips back on hers and stole the air from her lungs. Her sex pulled at him, tugging his fingers deeper until the pleasure became too much. She pushed at his chest. “Stop. I want you inside me.”

“Not this time,” he whispered and brushed his mouth against hers.

She wanted to break away, to plea for him to fill her. He wouldn’t allow it, his lips demanding more from their kiss. His fingers stroked in and out, his thumb flicking her nub at every insertion. Her breasts screamed for friction. Her core convulsed with the first signs of orgasm. She whimpered, so close, on the edge and about to soar.

A far away knock sounded and she jerked back, bracing one hand on the counter and the other on his chest.

“Shh.” He soothed, his fingers continuing their torment. “It’s only room service. They can wait.”

Mitchell leaned into her, his cheek brushing hers, his lips at her ear. “I’m not answering the door until you come.”

She moaned, believing his declaration. She closed her eyes, blocking out the smudged picture and concentrated on the memory of his cheeky grin peering down at her from the stage. He had the best facial features, boyish yet charming, devilish yet seductive.

His lips pressed against the side of her neck and she tilted her head to allow him better access. He nipped her, the bite of pain adding to the pleasure beating between her thighs. She had to press her lips together to hold back a scream.

The pace of his fingers increased, his strokes coming harder, his thumb now a constant rub against her clit. Her abdomen filled with heat, her orgasm forming and growing until it took over.

She gasped. Her core convulsed in time with his rhythm, and she rocked her hips against his hand. She ignored the world, bowed her head into his shoulder, and let ecstasy conquer. Gradually the euphoria died down, leaving her in a panting, heaving mess on the counter.

The knock sounded again, for the second time or the tenth, she had no clue.

“I better get the door.” His fingers withdrew, along with his warmth. A rush of tap water sounded followed by a kiss on her cheek. Two seconds later she was alone with only her rampant heartbeat and wild thoughts to keep her company.

Rooted to the spot, she blinked at nothingness while her brain struggled to process her emotions. Over the years she’d begun to contemplate her sexuality. Maybe men weren’t for her. She’d always found them attractive, had fantasized and lusted over them in magazines and on the television. There just hadn’t been a physical spark when it came to sex.

Until now… Now she couldn’t wipe the relief from her expression. Mitchell had touched her with skill and confidence. She acknowledged his expertise would’ve come from an overly healthy amount of experience. He knew how to stroke, how to kiss, how to caress…and she didn’t care.

She wasn’t broken and that was all that mattered.

A tear fell down her cheek, and she wiped it away with a relieved breath. Years of brainwashing from her mother hadn’t crippled her. She’d begun to worry that the trauma from being surrounded by abused women had sunk in. She’d never held the hatred or deeply scarring fear for men like her mother clung to, but still, Alana thought the aversion may have settled into her subconscious.

Her interaction with the opposite sex was limited, her experiences tainted. Yet she’d grown into a woman who learned not to be frightened of things because of other people’s nightmares. She still held apprehension and a healthy dose of wary caution, but her stomach filled with butterflies knowing her upbringing hadn’t scarred her ability to be with a man.

Her heart grew increasingly attached to Mitchell as the minutes passed. He showered her with attention, fought to protect her, went out of his way to take care of her. And now, he’d given her the one gift no other man had been able to.

Heat consumed her eyes and her nose tingled. She sniffed and shook her head. She wasn’t going to cry a river of tears over her first outsourced orgasm. Nope.

She lifted her chin and breathed deep. She’d been raised covered in a blanket of fears and each day away from home showed how much she needed to break free and live her own life. Releasing the breath, she scooted from the counter, righted her clothing, and took her first step into a new life that was bright and shiny...even if she couldn’t see it.