Alexa held back a laugh and upped the ante. Her leg snaked out from underneath the covers and she stretched. She flexed and wiggled her toes in the air. Then hooked her knee over the sheet and bent it at an angle.
Nick cleared his throat. “I’m not hungry. Have to go to work.”
“You said you’re not working.”
“Right.” Her skin practically tingled under his lustful gaze. Excitement pumped through her veins at the thought of him crawling back into bed to make love to her again, but didn’t have a clue as to how to do it.
She gathered her forces and went for the jugular. “So, are we going to talk about last night?”
He flinched, then nodded. When she remained quiet, he seemed forced to respond with something. “Last night was good.”
She propped herself up. The sheet did fall and stayed put around her waist. Bare breasted, she leaned on one elbow and tossed her hair over her shoulder and out of her eyes. She ignored the strange sound he made and continued the conversation. “Just good?”
“No, no, it was great.” He paused. “Really great.”
The man was definitely breaking. She pressed on. “I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about us and where we go from here. We can move on and decide not to sleep together again. Keep things less complicated, right?”
His head bobbed up and down as he glanced at her br**sts. “Right.”
“Or we can continue.”
“Continue?”
“To have sex.”
“Mmmm.”
“What do you think?”
“About what?”
Alexa wondered if his mind had fizzled or if all the blood really did leave a man’s head to go somewhere else. One quick glance confirmed her suspicions. Her plan was definitely working. She just needed him to admit he wanted to keep sleeping with her and she was sure the rest would work out.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to answer the question?”
“What was the question?”
“Do we keep hav**g s*x until the marriage is over or do we go back to being just friends?”
“Alexa?”
“Yeah?”
“I vote for sex.”
One moment she was enjoying this slow torture, the next he’d pinned her down, climbed on top of her nak*d body, and dragged her up to meet his mouth.
The kiss was a hot morning welcome. His lips devoured hers, his tongue slid inside to tease and play, then drink hungrily. He rubbed his mouth back and forth and his jaw line scraped her tender flesh with his stubble. His hands pulled the sheet away from her body so he could stroke and arouse, building the heat with quick, efficient motions until a moan escaped her and she parted her thighs.
He reached for the bedside table, then paused when she stopped him.
“I’m on the pill,” she murmured. “To regulate my periods.”
That was all he needed. Nick yanked down his sweatpants, pressed his palms on the inside of her thighs, and surged.
She gasped. Dug her nails into his shoulders. And held on.
He punished her for teasing him, bringing her to the very edge, then backing off as she teetered on the edge of orgasm. He dipped his head and tasted her br**sts, licked her n**ples, then began the climb again, only to bring her right back down. She tossed her head back and forth on the pillow, reached out, and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. His rough morning stubble scratched her skin.
“Now.”
He held on with an iron-fisted control she both admired and hated. A sexy grin tugged at his lips. “Say please.”
She gritted out a curse as she neared the edge again. Madness ripped through her and Alexa made a vow to never play power games with her husband again, for his retribution was too brutal. She arched her h*ps with fierce demand. “Please.”
He plunged forward and she rocketed into her cli**x. Her body clenched with convulsions, and she held onto him tight as he followed. Still inside of her, he slumped over and rested his head on the pillow beside her. Their choppy breathing filled the air.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. The musky scent of sex and coffee mixed and rose to her nostrils. A tiny flare of fear stirred to life as she lay in his arms. After one night, her body welcomed him as her other half. Alexa wasn’t one to casually dive into sexual encounters. She was the type of who fell in love, fell hard, and dreamed of happily ever after.
But there were no fairy tale endings with Nick Ryan. He had made that clear from the first. She needed to remember his limitations every day, especially after sex. Separate the physical from the emotional. Keep her heart guarded in a tower so high and so strong, even Rapunzel would never have escaped. Enjoy her orgasms and a bit of friendship, then walk away.
Sure. No problem.
Her heart screamed LIAR but she ignored it.
“I guess this cements the deal,” she said.
He chuckled and threw his arm over her body. She snuggled closer. “I think we made a logical choice. Now we have something more interesting to do than chess or poker.”
She bit playfully at his shoulder. “You’re not getting out of our tournaments, buster. We’ll just spice things up a bit.”
“Such as?”
“Ever play strip poker?”
“You’re an amazing woman, Alexa.”
“I know.”
Chapter Nine
“I don’t want to go.”
“I heard you the first time, the second, and the third. Now be quiet and pull in the driveway slowly. The wine will tip over.”
“I hate family functions.”
Alexa prayed for patience. Nick reminded her of a kid who dragged his feet and wanted to stay home to play with his toys instead of see relatives.
The past two weeks had flown past in relative smoothness except for his growing complaints regarding the holiday. Maggie had reminded her Thanksgiving with the Ryans was more of a Halloween nightmare, so Alexa gave her husband wide berth, but refused to let him off the proverbial hook. “We don’t have a choice. As a married couple, we’re expected to show up for dinner. There won’t be too many people there, anyway.”
Nick snorted. “I’ll be bored.”
“Get drunk.”
He scowled and swung into the driveway. The pile of cakes and pies and wine clattered in the backseat but held steady. She reached for the doorknob and stretched out her legs. The bite of November wind ripped up her skirt and through the thick tights she wore under her mini. She shivered and looked at the pile of cars already lined up on the lawn. “I knew we’d be late.”
His features changed, became softer, more intimate. Those chestnut depths gleamed with memories from early this morning, of warm, tangled sheets and cries and long wet kisses. Her body came to immediate attention. Her n**ples pressed against her purple sweater, and an achy heat pooled between her thighs.
He reached over and ran one finger down her cheek, then lightly traced her lower lip. “I clearly asked if you wanted to continue, remember?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have started in the first place. You knew we’d be late.”
“We could skip the whole thing and spend Thanksgiving in bed.” Her stomach dipped at his low murmur. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re trying to bribe me.”
“Is it working?”
“No. Let’s go.” She heard his low laugh behind her. He knew she lied. He always tempted her. After two weeks of steady sex, she still couldn’t get enough of her husband, and a day in bed with him sounded like sheer heaven.
She carried in the pies and he grabbed the wine. The door was open and they were immediately folded into family chaos, with loud greetings and handshakes, drinks thrust into open hands, and a thousand different conversations overlapping.
“Hi, Ma.” She kissed Maria and took an appreciative sniff of the plump turkey filled with sausage stuffing. A cloud of moist, fragrant steam rose in the air and wrapped her in warmth. “Smells great. You look pretty.”
“Thanks. It’s amazing what paying off the mortgage does for stress load.”
Fear shot through her. She leaned in. “Mom, please don’t mention it—remember our deal?”
Maria sighed. “Ok, honey. I’m just so grateful and it feels strange not to say something.”
“Mom!”
“Fine, my lips are sealed.” Her mom gave her a quick kiss and readied the tray of antipasto.
Alexa plucked a green olive from the tray of appetizers. “I’ll bring it out.”
“Don’t eat them all on the way. Where’s Nick?”
“Talking with Dad in the living room.”
“God help us.”
Alexa smiled and joined her husband. He reached for a black olive and popped it in his mouth. Typical, she thought. He liked black olives, she liked green. So many ways they were complete opposites. In other aspects, they were perfectly in sync.
Her niece raced down the hall. Honey blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her legs and feet were bare underneath her green party dress, a rich velvet with a frothy skirt that made her seem like a fairy princess. Taylor hurled herself into her arms with a leap, and Alexa caught her with ease. She slid her around to rest on one hip. “Hey, squirt.”
“Aunt Al, I want ice cream.”
“You can have some later.”
“Okay. I want an olive.”
“Green or black?”
She made a terrible face only a toddler could master. “Green is yucky.”
Alexa rolled her eyes at her husband’s look of triumph. Nick took a fat black olive and stuck it on the end of his finger. “The child has great taste. Here you go.” He offered it up and watched her chew in delight. “Good?”
“Hmmm. Now can I have ice cream?”
Alexa laughed. “After dinner, okay? Go tell Mommy to finish dressing you.”
“Okay.” Taylor scurried off and left the adults together amidst drinking and munching and frequent bursts of laughter.
Alexa noted her husband took her advice and started drinking early. He held his Scotch and soda with tight fingers. He nodded at various conversations, but retained an air of assessing distance that caused her heart to ache. Then his gaze broke and lifted to meet hers.
Fire.
The air lit and charged around them. He raised his brow in comic wickedness and motioned toward one of the bedrooms.
She shook her head and laughed. Then spun on her heel to go find her cousins.
…
Nick watched his wife enjoy the closeness of her family. He remembered his own holidays at home. His mother drank while his father made passes at all the other attractive female guests. He remembered being able to sneak in bottles of liquor and cigarettes because nobody cared. He remembered the overstuffed turkey for show, cooked by the maid, and the Christmas presents his parents never stayed around to watch them open.
The McKenzies seemed different. Genuine warmth beat beneath all the usual chaos. Even Jim seemed to fit in again, and it must have taken years for Maria’s sister to finally forgive him. Alexa’s family may have been broken, but they had weathered the storm and now seemed even stronger.