Page 39

No One to Run From

Aleks

Mia’s back hit my front door with a thud as soon as it was shut behind us, me pressing my weight into her as her arms and legs wrapped around me and squeezed.

“What about Isabella and Giana?” she breathed into my mouth as I kissed her.

“They’ll be fine.”

“We should let them know what happened.”

“Tomorrow.”

“They’re going to see the pictures. They’re going to—”

“Woman,” I growled, nipping at her neck before I reluctantly stopped my kissing long enough to frame her face and make her look at me. “They’re fine. Everyone will be fine. We can handle the PR shit show in the morning. Right now, no one gets access to us. Right now, you don’t owe anyone a phone call or a text or an explanation. Right now?” I lined her bottom lip with my thumb. “You’re mine.”

She stared at me for a long moment, unsure, before I watched and felt her body melt with relief. She nodded, hands moving for me, fingers curling at the nape of my neck and pulling me into her.

“They can wait,” she whispered, still undecided.

“They can wait,” I echoed.

And then I did everything I could to erase all the worries that plagued her.

My hands found her hips, holding her securely in my arms as I walked us blindly through my dark condo back toward my bedroom. There were so many places I wanted to take her. I pictured fucking her against my windows, spreading her wide on my kitchen island, lathering her up in my shower.

But tonight, I wanted her in my bed.

My heart was a steady drum in my chest as I dropped her into my sheets, bed still unmade from this morning. She giggled as I fell down on top of her, moving her up until her head hit the pillows, until I was settled between her legs, balancing my weight on my elbows with my forearms framing her beautiful face.

She sighed and I took it as my cue to slow down, to savor this moment the way I wanted to. There was no need to rush now. There was no one around to see us, no one to run from, no one to lie to. It was just me and her and hours to pretend like the world didn’t exist.

“You stupid girl,” I muttered against her lips as I lazily kissed her, each one long and slow and filled with intent. “You stupid, stupid girl. How did you not see it? How could you not know that I’ve been fucking obsessed with you since we were teenagers?”

“You rejected me,” she panted, fingers sliding each button of my dress shirt through the slits. “I tried to kiss you. I tried to be more than friends, and you turned me down.”

“Because you were drunk,” I defended, tugging her to sit up by the neck of her sweatshirt. I ripped it over her head and flung it to the side before I was on her and kissing again. “And when you were sober the next day, you pretended like nothing happened. I tried to talk to you about it but—”

“I was embarrassed.” She slid my shirt over my shoulders, and I sat on my knees long enough to shrug it the rest of the way off before we were connected once more. “I thought you felt sorry for me. Here I was, this pathetic little girl with a crush.”

“I had a crush on you, too.”

“You never told me.”

“Your father would have kicked me out if I did.”

Each confession came between clothes being shed — her shorts, my jeans, her bra, my briefs, her panties, my socks — until she was nude and I was bare but for the chain hanging around my neck. It kissed the swells of Mia’s breasts as I settled in again.

“Daddy loves you,” she argued, frowning.

“He does. But you’re his little girl, and I was a horny teenage boy from another country living under his roof. He had every right to be protective. I would have been disappointed if he hadn’t set boundaries.” I swallowed, running my knuckles over her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t dream of breaking them. Every fucking day I thought about risking it all, Mia, just to have one night with you.”

Mia shook her head, moaning when I flexed my hips, the shaft of my cock sliding between her legs and teasing her where she was wet and wanting.

“All this time,” she sighed, eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into my shoulders.

“I came for you when we were older,” I told her, burying my face in her neck and licking along her flesh. “I came to L.A. I was going to tell you how I felt. I was hoping like hell you felt the same. But then I got there and you were with that fucking rock star.”

“Oh, God. Ian ?”

“Don’t say another man’s name when I’m between your legs, Strings.”

I bit down on her neck to hammer that message home, and Mia gasped, arching into me, her hips grinding and trying to line me up at her entrance as I teased and toyed with her.

“I took that as my sign,” I told her, kissing down the flat bone of her sternum before licking each modest swell of her breasts. I circled her nipples with my tongue and savored the whimpering sounds that touch elicited. “I knew I wasn’t your type. I knew you were too good for me.”

Never good enough.

Never good enough.

“So, I stayed away. I watched you shine from afar, wanting everything good for you but hating when your smile was because of someone else. I stopped coming to family holidays because I couldn’t stomach being around you and whatever man had your attention.”

“That Fourth of July…”

“Fucking killed me,” I croaked, remembering how I’d tried and failed to numb myself that night after seeing Austin with her all day. “That was when I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I tortured myself with miles between us but couldn’t man up and see your joy up close. I wanted you happy, Mia. I still do.” I kissed down her stomach, hiking each thigh up over my shoulder before my eyes locked on hers. “But fuck if I’m not the most selfish prick because the truth is I only want you happy with me.”

I licked along her inner thigh as she squirmed and sighed, hands fisting in the sheets and twisting hard.

“When I called you about the publicity stunt,” she breathed, her words strained as she tried to focus through the way I was teasing her.

“I jumped at the chance. Because I didn’t care if it was fake, Mia. I didn’t care if it would all end. I didn’t care that I’d be a fucking wreck when it was over. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to see you, to hold you, to touch you.” I tightened my grip on her thighs, spreading her wide and licking her in one long lash of my tongue from her opening to her clit. I kissed her there as she shook beneath me. “To kiss you.”

“You made it all feel so real.”

“Because it was. It was always real for me.”

“Aleks…”

“It was. I came to so many of your shows and never told you, Mia. I bought every special edition of every album, every magazine with you on the cover. I watched every late-night show and listened to every podcast interview. That Steinway in there?” I nipped at her skin with a nod toward the hall. “Why do you think I have it? I don’t play piano. But you do. I bought it for you. Just in case you ever came to visit. Just in case you ever decided to stay.”

“Aleks,” she repeated, this time my name sounding like an awestruck revelation.

My mouth was on her then, all words gone between us, and I let my tongue and teeth and lips show her everything else I had never said. I kissed and licked and sucked as she writhed and moaned and bucked against my mouth. I longed for her to feel how much I wanted her, how much I’d always wanted her. My mission was to erase any shred of doubt she had left hanging on.

“Do you feel it now, Mia?” I asked, swirling her clit with my tongue before I sucked it in tiny pulses that made her gasp and arch and whimper. “Do you feel how my heart beats for you?”

“Aleks—”

“Don’t say my name again. Not yet,” I reminded her. “Make me earn it.”

And then I settled in to do just that.

I took my time exploring her with my hands and tongue, biting and sucking and licking. Her hands moved from the sheets to my head, guiding me, and I let her fuck my face as I held fast to her hips and gave her the friction she needed. I could have stayed there for hours tasting her. I could have spent the whole fucking night making her come as many times as I could just like that.

Her first orgasm was quiet and strained, like all the tension I’d felt between us the last time she left my condo had finally released. It was like it pained her as much as it brought her pleasure, and no sooner had she stopped trembling and sank into the sheets, she was grabbing for me, pulling me up so she could taste herself on my tongue.

“Need you,” she whispered against my mouth, reaching between us to position me. “When you’re inside me, everything makes sense. Everything feels right.”

“Fuck,” I groaned, nestling my forehead between her head and shoulder as I wedged myself inside her just an inch. “You told me last time to make you stop thinking. I thought that meant you just wanted to use me. And I didn’t even care. I wanted to be used.”

“You do turn off my thoughts. You turn off everything — the stress, the noise, the expectation. With you, I can just be… me.”

“Always,” I promised her, sliding in more.

“You’ve always been enough for me, Aleks,” she whispered on a long sigh as I withdrew and flexed in deeper. “More. More than enough.”

I closed my eyes on another muttered curse, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest as I pushed all the way inside her. We moaned together at the sensation — me filling her, her being filled. For a moment, I sat just like that, fully seated inside her and feeling how she seemed to relax and melt like she was home.

Maybe that’s what I was for her.

It was always what she was for me.

Never Berne, or Chicago, or Seattle, or Tampa.

Mia.

She was my home.

I dropped my forehead to hers as I began to move, slow at first, pulsing deep and filling her with long strokes. She clung to me, her arms around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders or back, heels pressing into the back of my thighs.

Words ceased to exist now.

It was just breaths and moans and whimpers, both of us lost to each other, to this moment, to a fantasy somehow coming true.

She was in my bed. She wanted me, too.

Enough.

I was enough.

Mia pressed a hand to my chest, pushing until I took her cue and rolled us. She was on top then, straddling me, her perfect body on display as she took control. I roamed every soft curve with slow, curious hands as she rocked and rolled, rubbing her clit against my lower abdomen and throwing her head back each time she found that friction she wanted.

Soon, she was bouncing in my lap, finding her second release. This one was loud and unbridled, and then I was coming, too, holding fast to her hips as I flexed up into her again and again.

I carried her to the bath after, running it hot while I wiped us both down with a washcloth. Then I helped her step in, sliding in behind her and holding her back to my chest, my arms wrapping fully around her under the water.

We stayed like that until the water turned lukewarm, not a word to be said, just gentle touches and soft, sated sighs.

I memorized each smile she gave me as I toweled her off and watched her slip into one of my t-shirts. We crawled into bed together. I wrapped her up tight. She fell asleep in my arms.

And then the morning came.

Along with a blow that sent our fragile house of cards crashing down.