“Alex, please take me back to my apartment.”
“No.” The night before proved she wasn’t safe there; at least not until he had more information, and certainly not without him.
“Poor Alex. Who knew you’d be such a jealous weakling? Maybe I should have gone home with Kenneth like he asked.”
“Like hell! We both know you’re where you want to be, so who are you trying to convince?”
“You are such a conceited bastard. Do you think you’re the only one who wants me?”
Alex didn’t speak as the limo moved onto the interstate and out toward the suburbs, but he pushed a button to close the partition so the driver wouldn’t hear them.
“Do you think I’m a bitch in heat and your dick is the only thing that can offer salvation?” she spat.
Alex moved like lightening to tumble her backwards and pin her to the seat beneath him, his hands around her wrists beside her head. Angel stared up at him, gasping for breath in her surprise.
“Stop! Just fucking stop. What I think is that whatever this is eats at my guts. When I saw Kenneth’s hands on you tonight, you kissing him, it took all I had to restrain myself. Now, as far as my dick—that’s up to you, but I wager, you want it.”
Her legs went around his waist as they both panted in each other’s faces, hearts pounding together; blood rushing. Angel wasn’t sure what she was struggling against as his nose brushed hers and her chin lifted involuntarily. Probably, it was fear he’d steal her soul. He made her hungry even in this madness, even in anger there was still this immeasurable lust. This man had power. Too much power and he knew it.
Alex’s hands loosened on her wrists as he nudged her upper lip with his lower one, teasing a response she was unable to deny him. The fingers on both of his hands entwined with hers as he pressed into her. Angel moaned into his mouth at the pleasure, and he became even more aroused as his hardness met her heat.
His words rushed out in a whisper just before his mouth staked its ownership over hers. “You are mine.”
12
Too Good to be True
Angel’s mouth was alive underneath Alex’s, even though her brain searched for the will to struggle, pull away, or keep her traitorous body from responding. God, he tasted good, so perfect in his seduction.
With her chest heaving, she finally managed to break the kiss by turning her head to one side. Alex was not deterred, letting his mouth—still hungry for her flesh—move over her cheek and down her chin before leaving a hot, moist trail on her neck as the fingers of one hand worked at the buttons of her blouse.
“I fucking hate you,” she whispered ardently, her voice trembling right along with everywhere he touched, unsure if she was speaking to him or herself. She squeezed her eyes shut as they began to burn, and her fingers wound in his hair. “I really hate you. I hate feeling so out of control.”
“I hate you, too,” he murmured against her breast before pushing her cream lace bra out of the path of his mouth with his chin and tongue, “for making me want you this much.”
Angel drew her breath in a hiss as his hot mouth closed around her rosebud nipple, already hard in anticipation. Alex’s lower body surged into hers and made her flush with damp warmth, leaving a delicious ache she knew only he could alleviate.
“Uh… God,” she moaned as her body rose up to meet his, and she pushed her hands underneath the hem of his shirt, raking her nails down his back, amazed at the way the muscles flexed as he moved over her. The cool, silk knit was a stark contrast to the fire of his flesh. “Alex, what about the driver? Can he hear us?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Alex brought his head up to look into her face. She was breathtaking: a heated blush on her cheekbones and her hair splayed in a halo around her head on the light grey leather, her dark eyes glittering in the reflection of the lights filtering in from the night racing past the limo. He pushed her hair back as once again, their bodies surged together.
“Christ, you feel so good.” Their eyes locked. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, but he knew the answer.
The back of his fingers brushed over her flat stomach as his eyes searched for the answer in her face. Angel bit her lip and shook her head ever so slightly, but it was all the answer Alex needed. His fingers popped the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down.
Angel was quiet and pensive, after the sex in the back of the limo, and had still not spoken when Alex held his hand out to assist her when they’d reached his gated estate on the north side of the city. Her eyes widened as she took in the large, natural stone, two-story house, elegantly lit in the front and surrounded by lavish landscaping and a curved drive.
The large trees told of either longevity or great expense to create the ambiance, and the hot breeze felt amazingly cool as it evaporated the soft sheen of perspiration on her skin, leftover from the passionate scene that had just concluded. Alex ran his free hand through his hair as he gently and silently tugged her toward the large mahogany door under the chandelier in the front entry. His eyes watched her closely, wondering what she was thinking. He was left unsettled by his own lack of control where she was concerned yet determined to get her to relax around him. Judging from the phone call they’d shared earlier, it would have been a great night if seeing her with Kenneth Gant hadn’t caused his insides to explode.
His thumb brushed the top of her hand as he unlocked the door. The house was dimly illuminated from a few lamps that his housekeeper had left on, as was her custom, not knowing when or if the master of the house would show up. He had barely disarmed the electronic security system when Max bounded down the large staircase toward them, barking madly. Angel started at his side.
“He’s harmless,” Alex said softly, but the woman at his side had already let go of his hand and was moving toward the large dog, kneeling down and ruffling him enthusiastically with both hands.
“Hey! You’re gorgeous, aren’t you? Such a sweet baby!”
Max whined and licked her face, nudging her chin over and over with his nose.
“Alex, he’s beautiful! What’s his name?”
Alex threw his keys on the antique table at the foot of the stairs. “Max. He’s a good boy.” He watched as she continued to stroke the dog, whose tail was wagging madly. “Max, leave her be.” He ran a hand over the animal’s head as he passed, making his way into the great room and to the wet bar along one wall. Angel followed with Max at her heels. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure, whatever you’re having, but I shouldn’t stay long. Will your driver take me back into the city?”
In the process of adding ice to two tumblers, Alex tensed and lifted his head. He considered his words and then shrugged. “No.”
“No?” Her eyebrows shot up and the skin on her arms bristled.
Alex filled the two glasses halfway with scotch, held one out to her, and motioned for her to precede him to the large leather furniture in front of the fireplace. He found himself wishing it were November or December so the fire could be blazing. There was a large antique grand piano near the window, one of his most loved possessions.
Angel reached for the glass but didn’t move. Alex rolled his eyes and moved around her. “Come on in.”
“Are you planning to keep me here against my will?” One eyebrow shot up. She hated that she couldn’t be mad at this man for long.
“Never. I’ll simply convince you to stay. Max will help me, won’t you, boy?” he said with a soft laugh as the dog nudged his hand for attention.