Page 67 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

The idea sounds amazing. I just don’t want to be alone with him right now. I want distractions and mind numbness. I don’t need solitude and silence.

“I feel bad, though. We’ve blown her off three times now, and what if she did something like make a cake for my birthday, and then we don’t show up?”

“Well, first of all, Carly would have been the one to make you a cake, and really? You want to go?” Who even has a chef in this economy?The Millars.

“I think I should try. Make an effort?” I scrunch my nose because the idea of going there is contradictory to my being.

“Okay,” he says it slowly. Skeptically.

“We have to pick up Delta anyways.” He isn’t ready for a ten-mile hike just yet.

His smile is slight.Fuck.

I bite my lip and go to my knees with a desperate need to let him know I’m grateful. He doesn’t have to do any of this. And I do love him. I love him a lot.

“What are you doing, Em?”

“Saying thank you,” I start on his belt buckle. His touch is warm and gentle as he threads a hand into my hair. I haven’t done this for him since telling him about my mom and everything that happened. He never asks or pressures me.

“I love you, Alex,” I say as I pull his briefs down enough to bring his length to my face.

“I love you too, Em.”

I lick my lips, then his tip, and then I swallow him to the back of my throat. I can feel him resisting the need to thrust. But I want him to. Today.

I release him and let him know, “You can do it. It’s okay.” He strokes my cheek appreciatively.

“You’re so good, Emma.” I nod, then let him thrust, his hips moving towards my face. He’s good too. A good man. Kind, giving, respectful, and gentle. So why the fuck do I still have this need for someone else?

I’m trying, I really am. I zip up the burgundy dress and slip on a pair of black kitten heels. But maybe this is too dressy? I haven’t really perfected the same laid-back, cool, ‘I’m rich’ vibe that the Millars and the Scalas seem to have down pat.

But I’m trying to fit in.

I’m trying too hard. I kick off the heels and unzip the dress.This isn’t me.I throw the outfit back towards the box it came in.

Jeans and a sweater will have to be enough.

“You look good.” Alex comes up behind me in my closet, gripping my hips.Helooks good. His hair is longer now, nearly hitting his shoulders, and his beard is thick but trim. He has that rugged mountain man charm. Thick forearms, broad shoulders, and sun-tanned skin. He’s beautiful.

I turn, slipping my arms around his neck, and pull him in for a kiss. I’m already unbuckling his belt when he stops me.

“Really? We’ll be late.”Really. I need him to take the edge off. I want to walk in there feeling like I’m his. Like I belong. Iwant to carry his scent, his cum. Desperately, I want to behis only.

“I want you to fuck me, bare, babe,” I whisper in his ear, feeling his grip on me strengthen. “I want to feel full of you.”

“Are you sure?” His voice is hoarse, asking back. It wouldn’t be the worst thing. A little ahead of schedule, maybe. I don’t want to start actively trying, but I want this one thing — a final birthday wish.

“The only thing I really want for my birthday is to feel your cum running down my legs.” And then he’s backing me against my closet wall, ripping open my jeans.

His mouth is on my neck as he works my pants and panties down. He lifts me, pinning me to the wall with his thick thighs as he frees himself. Already pulsing with need.

“Tell me you need it.” His voice is thick with strain. “Tell me you’re sure.” I nod, but it’s not enough. “Coming out of your mouth, Emma, I need to hear it, damnit.”

“I want you to pump me full of your cum, Alexander. I fucking need it.”

EIGHTEEN

Alex