He's Captured My Trust (Captured Series Book 2) (31 page)

I park the car outside the flat, relieved to be there. We get out, and he gets his things from the boot I lean against the car, waiting for him. He prowls toward me, his eyes telling a story all on their own. I have a feeling the short time in the flat this morning will be eventful, and I’m looking forward to it.

“Home,” I say as he reaches me.

“Yes, I think I am.” He takes me by surprise as he kisses my lips softly and leaves me wanting more. A whole lot more! But
home
—does it have another meaning? Or am I reading too much into this already?

We take the stairs hand in hand. When we’re outside my door, I rummage through my bag, looking for my keys. I’m eager to be inside, alone with him. We enter and he stops and has a good look around. Nothing has changed in the hall, which I need to rectify; it looks a bit bare.

“Where can I put these?” he asks.

“Upstairs, in the bedroom.”

“I think you better show me.” He raises his eyebrows and smiles slowly.
Oh, this is about to get interesting.

I text Ethan. “What time do you want me again?”

Ethan answers, “Be here at eleven.”

I glance at the time. It’s eight. I’ll need to leave at half past ten to get there in time, but that should give us enough time to get reacquainted with each other, even though it’s been less than a week.

I reach out and take Alex’s free hand and lead him up the staircase and along the hall to the bedroom.

“You redecorated?” he says, walking through the room and straight to the window. It’s all cream and soft shades of red—not a lot, but enough. The red comes from a chair my mother bought me—a beautiful red-velvet chair that sits by the window.

“Yeah, my own things didn’t go with the room, and it was all new. Didn’t see the point in wasting money.” It’s true that I bought all this after Jeff and I split up. He hadn’t moved into my old place as such, but he did spend a lot of time there, and I didn’t want the bed, so it was new things all around. I love the oak furniture, but, most of all, I love the bed, and I think I’m about to find out just how much.

I turn to Alex, who has placed his suit carrier and jacket over the chair by the window and is now stalking me with a look I know only too well. My desire bubbles away deep within. I start unbuttoning my blouse and a slow smile spreads across his face. He stops in front of me and quickly pulls his T-shirt over his head just as I undo the last button and let my blouse fall to the floor.

The heat radiates between the two of us, the sexual energy flowing. We haven’t even touched yet. Desire burns within me. I wait for him to make the next move. It’s suddenly clear he is waiting for the exact same thing. He wants to know I still want him. He needs a sign that things are alright between us and that after talking for God knows how long, we’re fine and that whatever happens, we’ll still be fine.

Fuck it.

I smile, knowing what I’m about to do. I reach for the buckle of his belt and undo it. Next up is the buttons on his jeans. I run my hands back up his well-defined abs, feeling every muscle tighten as I go, and the heat rushing from him.

His eyes widen and the smile grows. I kiss him quickly on the lips before pulling away, playfully nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him just above his heart and then slowly working my way down his torso.

I drop to my knees and sneak a glance at him. He looks pleased. This beautiful specimen of a man is all mine. There is no doubt in my mind that I love him, but there are no words to describe how much. I trace my fingers over the outline of his bulge. I pull his jeans and boxers down to release him.

I take him in my hand first. He’s hot, and not just good-looking hot. His skin burns with the same desire as my own. My tongue trails the length of him down to the root and back to the tip. I hear him suck in a sharp breath as I do it a few more times.

I keep my hand exactly where it is and pump slowly while I move my other hand to his waist. I slowly take him in—only the tip—before pulling back. I look up at him. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back. His breathing has changed, just as I know the pace is about to change.

I take him again, only farther this time, and with a little more pressure. As I pull back, my teeth graze the length of him. He moans loudly. I do it again and again, each time taking him in a little farther. He tightens each time and draws back. He’s close. He puts his hands on my shoulders, I think to steady himself, but no, it’s to control the pace I have set. He moves, thrusting hard. Another few more strokes and my job here will be done.

“Libby . . . No more—” He stops me, pulling me back up from my knees and kissing me with a warmth and urgency that we both need. His tongue pushes into my mouth, searching, tasting. My hands travel his back, pulling him closer, leaving no room for air between us. His hands do the same, but they stop at my bra clip and he fiddles with it before finally getting it and pulling it from me, letting it fall to the floor.

“I want to worship you.” His voice is low and raw and sounds full of promise. “I need this.” He scoops me into his arms and walks the short distance to the bed, placing me gently on top of the covers. He unzips my skirt and slowly peels it away, leaving only my tights and underwear.

“I don’t like these much,” he says, pointing to the tights. “I much prefer stockings—easier access.” He removes them and my underwear at the same time.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” I smile at the thought.

He moves my legs, and the sensation of him between my legs as his mouth descends on me has me whimpering at the first touch. It feels different somehow, although I’m not sure why. It’s not as though we haven’t done this before. His expert touch teases me. I grab the sheets, clutching the fabric. He licks and sucks, and the vibration radiates through me. I won’t last at this pace.

As if sensing how I feel, he slows down. But it’s too late. His soft breath against my oversensitive skin as his soft tongue continues to work its magic is my undoing. I try to focus but no longer can as I come hard and my orgasm ripples through me.

I open my eyes, but they’re heavy. I try to control my breathing but can’t. He stands and finally takes off his jeans and boxers. I watch him. Despite the orgasm that ripped through me, I need him. My body aches for him to be deep inside me, finishing off what we both want and need.

He crawls slowly up the bed, and I pant as he hovers over where I need him. I feel him hard, pressing only slightly against me. My legs part further. He stares into my eyes without saying a word, but the unspoken words are there. He loves me more than anything. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for me, if I only ask.

His lips descend on mine at the same time as he pushes deep inside me. I let out a small cry but am silenced by his mouth. This kiss is slow and deep and meaningful. Our tastes linger on each other with neither of us caring. My need for him has reached new heights that I never dreamed were possible. Every time we’ve done this, it has been intimate, but words cannot describe this time.

He holds me softly as he moves slowly, and our kiss is still sensual. His strokes are deliberately slow, filling me and then holding back; teasing yet satisfying. Each movement slowly pushes me to the edge and there is no way back. He’s holding back to painstaking effect, judging by the features on his face.

The pace needs to change. I need it to change. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him tighter, urging him to not leave either of us feeling frustrated. He takes the hint. The pace changes and I match him thrust for thrust. He’s claiming me. I barely recognise my voice with the sound I make.

My grip on him tightens, my body responding to the pace now. The storm that builds deep within is about to change. My climax rips through me as I clench around him, feeling him tighten and grow bigger, if that’s possible, as his own release comes in sync with mine.

He collapses to his elbows, leaning gently over me, showering me with warm, soft kisses all over my neck and face before finally landing one last deep sensual kiss on my lips. We stay wrapped in each other while our breathing gradually slows to normal.

Normal. I don’t think I remember what normal is anymore.

I sigh as he moves to the side, pulling me with him so that I face him.

“I love you,” I say before he has the chance to speak.

“I know.” His smile is faint. He runs his thumb over my cheekbone and pushes my hair behind my ear. His eyes glisten like stars as he ponders his words. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”

And there lies our problem. I don’t doubt his sincerity, but I know I will never ask him to make the choice, and I know I can’t make the choice he wants me to make. My home is here, and after the week’s events with Lucy and Ethan, I know I could never leave them. A lonely tear trickles from my eye onto the pillow.

I don’t want to be sad.

“Don’t overthink this. We’ll find our mutual ground. We can make this work.” He swipes the tear away. “I’m going for a shower first, and then while you’re in, I’ll make you something to eat. You need to put on a few pounds.”

“Funny,” I say, playfully slapping his arm as he leaves the bed. “Maybe if someone laid off the workouts, I would be fine.”

“Funny, you say. If someone ate more, these workouts, as you put it, wouldn’t leave you exhausted, and you might be able to keep up.” He walks away from me as he says the last bit and heads toward the bathroom.

I pick up one of the cushions and throw it, hitting his head. He turns and laughs.

I get goose bumps from watching him saunter across the room in all his naked glory. Everything about him is overbearing . . . but is it too much? Not a chance!

The shower runs, and although part of me wants to join him, the sensible part of me tells me to stay where I am and rest for a few minutes longer.

I lie on the bed thinking about nothing and everything. I will try to not overthink our relationship. I should take it one day at a time, but that will be hard, considering the length of time he is staying for. I still can’t believe he’s here until after New Year’s. I don’t want to become too dependent on him. My independence is a strong part of who I am.

Then how will I feel when he has to leave? I know the answer—totally lost.

The shower stops, and a few minutes later a fresh Alex stands at the side of the bed with only a white, fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.
Nice.
I could lie here all day and admire the view.

“Come on, you. Your turn.”

“Okay, okay.” I stretch my arms out and he pulls me to my feet. He holds me at arm’s length and runs his eyes over my all-too-naked body. Not-so-long ago I would’ve grabbed cover out of embarrassment. But not anymore. Alex gave me a newfound confidence and belief in myself. “What are your plans for the day?” I ask.

“I’m coming with you to watch Lucy, and then I’m sure I’ll find something to keep me occupied tonight while you’re working. You could give me your car.”

I laugh, thinking about him driving my car. It’s bad enough that he’ll be driving on the left-hand side of the road. He has the added pressure of not knowing where he is. How on earth will he find his way about? I’ll get a call at some point with him telling me he’s lost.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, smartass, but I presume your car has GPS?”

I nod.

“Then I’ll be fine.”

“And you’re coming with me? I thought you and babies didn’t get along.”

“That was before.” He shrugs.

“Before what?”

“Before you. Before I saw a future.”

“Oh.”
What do I say to that?
“If you want something to do, you could go shopping and get a suit for tomorrow night—the hotel awards, unless it’s a tux you have in that suit carrier?” I add as he looks at me suspiciously.

“Where are those?”

“Edinburgh.”

“Are we staying over?” he asks.

“I was planning to come home with my dad. Mum is keeping Ethan company, so Dad didn’t want to stay without her, and I’m working the Sunday day shift.”

“Alright. Those are my plans for this evening—some shopping. Now get that fabulous ass of yours in that shower, or you’ll be late. Move.”

“Yes, sir.”

WHEN I FINALLY HEAD DOWNSTAIRS
, Alex is in the kitchen finishing putting together some breakfast.

“I think I should also go to the grocery store tonight. You don’t have much here. I found some bacon and some rolls in the freezer.”

“You, shopping?” I laugh. “If you remember, I wasn’t here last week and have been a bit preoccupied with other pressing matters to attend to this week.”

“You’re in a funny mood. You know, I can do some things all by myself.” He looks at the bag in my hand. “What’s in the bag?”

“It’s my things for work tonight—dress and shoes. I’ll change at Ethan’s before going in.”

“Put them down so you can eat.”

“If I’m in a funny mood, you’re just bossy.”

“Baby, you have no idea. Now. Eat.”

I do as I’m told and start eating as he pours two cups of tea. “So . . . Sophie?” I ask.

“What about Sophie?”

“She was happy to go along with your plan?”