“You mind if I find somewhere to sit. A flood of ideas for the marketing copy hit me.”
“Of course. Lobby has plenty of seating. You need a paper or pen?”
“Got my phone. I’ll dictate.”
Man, I’d love to get a copy of that recording. SJ talking about the dungeon and the Yacht Club. Pretty sure that would go in my spank bank. I rush to help Gabe with door. It’s a heavy bastard. When we finally finish installing it and connecting the accessibility controls, Gabe reminds me it’s a holiday weekend and we have to take some time off. If SJ wasn’t here, or soon to be back in my bed, I’d argue with him. Instead, I wish him well and make plans to drive in together early on Tuesday.
After another night and most of the day feeding and fucking SJ, I’m almost completely at ease, one arm folded behind my head, the other around her, staring at the ceiling. There should be words after the weekend we’ve shared, but none come to mind. There’s still a tiny disconnect between us, a distance that maybe my ropes could have closed. Maybe the unease is all me because I know she’s leaving soon. “You okay?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Hungry?”
“No, but I should probably take a shower. Everyone will be back soon.”
Is she worried about being caught in bed with me? Am I? I’m the one who broke the easy silence.
She rolls to sit on the edge of the bed. “This was a fantastic weekend, Alex.”
But—I wait for her to say it, clenching my jaw tight so I don’t say it first.
She sighs a shuddering breath. “Think we should keep it to ourselves. Don’t want everyone making more of this than it can be. I’m not staying.”
“Not like you’re leaving today, right?”
She glances back at me, her blue eyes cloudy. “No, but Iamleaving. Soon.”
I fake a shrug. “You have a book to write and you saw all the work I have to do. Bright and early tomorrow. This was a nice break.”
She nods, a smile teases her lips but doesn’t quite appear. I expect her to say something else or at least plant a parting kiss on my lips. But she turns her head and walks out of my room. I rub my chest were my heart twinges as the door closes. I don’t know her well enough to call this feeling love. Hell, I don’t really know her at all except how she sounds when she comes, and how her eyelids flutter with pleasure, and how her nails sting when she clutches my shoulders. I know every line of the butterfly tattoo on her back and how it looks ready to take flight when I sink into her again and again.
But I wouldn’t know how to tell my mama about her, how to explain why I’m so captivated. In some ways, I’ve known more about the rope bunnies I’ve played with than I know about SJ. She’s a BDSM romance writer, from Texas, with an asshole agent. And I can’t let her tie me in knots.
Maybe we’ll hook up a couple more times, just to get her out of my system before she goes. In the meantime she has a book and I have a resort—we both need to finish.
I leave the bed. Strip the sheets and take a shower. My hair’s still wet and I’m tucking the last pillow into the fresh case when Amy and Tyler and the rest of the gang bust inside downstairs, talking and laughing. I toss the pillow on my bed and head downstairs. Alone.
Fourteen
SJ
I press back and up with my arms into downward dog, letting the sunshine warm my back. An echo of an ache lingers between my thighs. Alex is back to his early morning-late night routine. And I miss him. The ache isn’t real, it’s been too long for my muscles to still be strained. The ache is a manifestation of missing him. I keep moving through my routine as the sun moves lower in the sky. As I finish in mountain pose, I sense eyes on me. The windows reflect the sunset, so I can’t tell where it’s coming from. But I know who it must be. He’s nowhere to be found after I roll up my mat and head inside. His avoidance, or absence, or whatever is keeping him hidden is making me crazy.
I take a shower and try to write, but my mind won’t focus. My characters won’t come together. It’s impossible to write a romance when the characters won’t even come into the same room. With that realization, a plan forms. It’s not time yet, couple more hours and then I can flip the page on this story. I distract myself with more videos of lovers with ropes, but I don’t get myself off. The pressure builds until finally I’m ready.
Darkness fills the hallway, everyone long since retired to their respective rooms. I dart to Alex’s room on my tiptoes. His door is unlocked. Did he expect me? Hope I would sneak in. I slip inside before the light from his bathroom can spill into the hall. With my back pressed against the close door, I flip the lock. He comes out fresh from a shower, towel on his head rubbing his short hair dry. The moment he becomes aware of me, he halts. “Watcha’ doing, little rabbit?”
“Miss you. Can’t sleep.”
His cock responds, twitching and lengthening.
My straps on my simple cotton nightgown easily shift down my arms as I pull the fabric free of my body.
“Fuck.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, and a curse all rolled into one. And the word slithers between my thighs bringing heat and priming me for exactly what he can give me.
I raise my arms up, cross my wrists, and step wide. “Yes, please.”
He’s on his knees, face buried in my core before I can move again. He grips my knee, lifting my leg over his shoulder. When he follows up with my other leg, I’m completely at his mercy. His tongue dances through my folds, and my body electrifies with need. Every nerve primed to react to him. Somehow he lifts me, and I drop my hands to his shoulders, his tongue deep in my folds. He doesn’t stop until he drops me on the bed.
