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13

ALISSA

I clap my hand over my mouth.

I can’t believe I just said that.

Who is this woman who’s taken over my body? Because it certainly isn’t Alissa Maravilla.

The straight-edged Alissa—the Alissa who quit a promising flute career for the more stable career of nursing—would have cut herself off after two drinks maximum, would be much more reserved in her flirtation, if she flirted at all.

Perhaps it’s my peculiar surroundings, or perhaps it’s the charming, mysterious man across the table from me.

More than likely it’s the nearly four drinks I’ve had tonight. Twice my normal limit.

My gin and tonic is already half spent.

“I’m sorry about that,” I say. “I just realized what I may have accidentally implied when I said that.”

Maddox smiles. “I read nothing into it, Alissa. I’d love to join you for a drink at your place after we’re done here. However”—he checks his watch, a Michael Kors in glimmering silvers and golds—“it’s getting kind of late.”

I cock my head. “Is it?”

He nods. “Nearly ten. Traffic won’t be too terrible along Lake Shore Drive at this hour, but it’ll likely be close to half past the hour by the time we arrive, and that’s if we head out right now.” He eyes my half-full glass. “You’re not quite finished with your drink yet.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath in. Three and a half drinks is a lot for me. When I was back in school, I could party with the best of them. Three shots of Fireball was the beginning of my night. Now that I’m approaching my thirties, my tolerance has gone to shit. I can barely keep my eyes open if I have a glass of red wine while watching TV at home.

Though Maddox has energized me something fierce. An electric current has been surging through me from the moment our hands touched. His touch wired me from my fingertips directly to my heart, which pumped it all through my body, landing most powerfully between my legs.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to finish that last drink, Maddox.” I sigh. “If I do, I’ll simply melt into a puddle and you’ll have to carry me home in a bucket.”

He chuckles. “That can be arranged.”

My cheeks warm. There is nothing sexy about the idea of being brought home in a bucket, but—damn!—Maddox Hathaway could charm a nun out of her habit with his silver tongue.

I frown. “I hate to see a perfectly good gin and tonic go to waste.”

He smirks. “No problem there. May I?” He reaches for my glass.

“By all means.”

He brings the glass to his lips and pours it down his throat. Something sexy about a man who enjoys a cocktail.

All the men I’ve dated in the past have been beer drinkers.

Not that I don’t enjoy beer. I’m from the UK, after all. I can put down a pint anytime, especially if it’s with a burger or pizza.

But Maddox has such a refinement about him. I’m sure he has a beer every now and then, and there’s nothing wrong with that if he does, but he clearly has a taste for the finer things. This club, he told me, only uses top-shelf liquor in its drinks, and watching him relish every drop of my half-finished drink is almost… sensual .

Yes, sensual. The way his lips wrap around the rim, the way his breath fogs up the glass’s interior, even the way the ice cubes bump up against his stubbly lower lip.

In this moment, I’m jealous of a bloody glass.

Good God, I have it bad for this man.

He finishes the drink and sets the glass down on the table almost wildly, like a Viking throwing a stein onto the dirt floor of a tavern after quenching his thirst on a pint of mead. His eyes are fiery, lusty, as he looks me up and down.

“Ready to go?”

I almost wince at his words. His voice has changed. The words came out almost on a growl.

And my God, the rumble of his baritone sends goosebumps all over my body.

I swallow. “I’ll just run to the ladies’ room and powder my nose real quick.”

He smiles and leans back in his chair. “Take your time. The ladies’ room is by the Hearts section, near the door for Bianca’s dressing room.”

“Thank you. Be back in a second.”

He grins. “I’ll count on that, Alissa.”

I get to my feet, using the backside of my chair as support. Standing drunk is a lot different from sitting drunk, but so far I feel okay. Definitely buzzed.

I walk through the club, around couples in locked arms on the dance floor, a few of them making out like teenagers. Normally, I’d be a bit annoyed by such a display of public affection, but in this moment, all I can think of is being in Maddox’s arms, swaying with him, tangling my tongue with his to Bianca’s sultry tunes. Maybe we can slate the public make-out session into our second date.

Next to the door labeled Bianca , I see a light-pink door with a small sign reading Ladies. I open the door. It’s overwhelmingly pink, as if a Valentine’s Day card puked over the entire area. The floor is surfaced in red and white tiles with pink hearts at the center, and a fuchsia chaise lies at the bathroom’s entrance. Standing sinks and stall walls the shade of bubblegum dominate the space. But I don’t go to a toilet—which I’m sure is the same color as everything else in here, including my cheeks—but rather the mirror. I want to check my makeup.

Something about looking in a mirror by yourself makes you understand exactly how drunk you are. There’s no hiding it from the world in here. Every ounce of liquor in your system is exposed when only the fluorescent lights and the sink are your company.

And in this moment, I’m realizing I’m pretty drunk.

I was able to act normally around Maddox, minus my shameless flirtations. I don’t want him to think I’m a lush or anything. And I’m not exactly wasted, but I absolutely would not be driving if given the option. I don’t think going on public transit would be a good move for me right now, either. Thank God Maddox is driving me home.

My makeup looks all right—my lipstick is just a bit smeared. I fix it up. Best for my lips to look luscious and kissable.

I always clean my apartment, shave my legs and other areas before a date, just in case I end up bringing a man back to my place. I’ve invited Maddox for a drink, and he told me that he didn’t read anything into that invitation, but who am I kidding?

He’s a man. A gorgeous one at that.

If I said so, he’d plunder me completely, taking everything he needs from my body to sate his sexual appetite.

God, I bet he has a gorgeous cock. Long and thick and probably nicely groomed, like the rest of his appearance. He’ll fill me in the most perfect way.

I shake the thought out of my head.

Cart before the horse, Alissa, cart before the horse.

It’s our first date. He’ll think I’m easy if I put out on the first date.

Normally it’s simple to control myself. Even when I’m extremely attracted to a guy, I’m able to keep myself in check until at least our third time going out.

With Maddox I’m not sure I’ll be able to.

I press my lips together to even out my lipstick. I chose a bold purplish-red tonight— so not my normal style, but it felt like the appropriate shade for an evening out. It perfectly matches the vibe at this club, though. I’ve been assaulted by vivid colors all evening. My lips are pale in comparison.

My eyeliner and mascara looks all right. I’m not wearing any foundation—I hate how it makes me feel plugged up, and my skin is even-toned on its own—but I did apply just a hint of blush on my cheeks. That still looks good, too.

I’m ready to take Maddox home.

I mean… I’m ready for Maddox to escort me to my flat.

Maybe have a drink.

If I can even stomach a fifth drink. I suppose I didn’t really drink much of the fourth.

I walk back out of the blushing bathroom and cross the club to the table. Maddox is standing, holding my coat. “I took the liberty of grabbing this from the coat check. I assume you’re still ready to go home.”

I nod. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. Can I at least pay you back for the tip?”

He shakes his head. “Like I said before, your money is no good here.”

He holds out my coat and I shimmy my arms through. I struggle just a bit—my coordination is not at its peak right now—but soon I have it on. I reach into the pockets and pull out a pair of sleek red leather gloves and slide them onto my hands.

I look up at Maddox. “You didn’t bring a coat, did you?”

“It’s a short walk from the club entrance to where I parked. Seemed excessive.” He looks me up and down. “Did you need to pick anything up from the hospital before we go?”

“No. I changed out of my scrubs at the hospital, which I sent to the laundry. Everything else I need is in my bag.” I pat my purse.

We leave the club, up the mirrored staircase. Maddox knocks three times on the door leading to the foyer, which Chet opens immediately. He watches us, grinning, as we go out the black door into the alleyway.

Night has fallen, of course, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky—a rare occurrence this time of year—and I can see the few stars that the Chicago lights allow through. They’re twinkling fiercely, almost with a gentle madness.

Maddox leads me through the alleyway to his car that’s parked in a garage a few blocks down. It’s a brisk walk, and I have to move double-time to keep up with his long legs. Soon we’re in his Rolls-Royce.

I rub my hands together. “Blast the heat, if you can. I’m freezing.”

“Of course.” Maddox starts the car and the heater comes on. “It’ll take a second for the heater to warm up. But I also had the seats outfitted with warmers when I refurbished the car. I’ll turn yours on.” He flicks another switch.

“Oh, thank God.” I sit back. “It should be illegal for a car not to have these.”

He chuckles. “I’ll call my contacts at the mayor’s office.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Your contacts where?”

He blinks for a minute. “Just a joke.” He puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking spot. He then drives us out of the garage, fiddling with the stereo buttons.

“Is there a classical station you like?” he asks.

I widen my eyes. “No man has ever changed the station in his car for me.”

He laughs. “Then you haven’t dated any good men.”

Good grief. If that isn’t the truth…

“Ninety-eight point seven. WFMT. A very good station. Though they sometimes play some weird shit this late in the evening.”

“I like weird.” Maddox tunes the radio, and some atonal chamber music starts playing. He winces. “Okay, maybe that’s too weird.”

I chuckle. “The classical composers went a little off the rails in the early twentieth century, especially the twenties and thirties. I think this is a string quartet by Schoenberg.”

“Well, I suppose cats being butchered alive need musical representation as well.”

I can’t help it. I let out a guffaw at that.

He chuckles. “Glad you found that amusing.”

“I did.” I reach over, place my hand on his elbow. “I find you wholly amusing, Maddox.”

“Likewise, Alissa.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence, listening to Schoenberg’s scraping strings.

The drive isn’t long—after all, it’s pretty late—and within fifteen minutes, Maddox is pulling up in front of my apartment building.

He stops the car, looks over at me. “I had a wonderful evening, Alissa.”

“Me too. That’s a remarkable place you belong to.”

He cracks a small smile.

I reach for my car handle, but he holds up a hand. “Absolutely not. One sec.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the driver-side door, and walks to the other side of the car to open the door for me.

I look up at him. “Do you make a habit out of opening doors for ladies?”

He smiles. “Alissa, if you stick with me, you’ll never open another door again.”

A chill runs down my spine, and it’s not from the icy wind rushing through the air.

He walks me into my building, up the stairs to my door on the third floor.

Moment of truth.

And I…

I lose my nerve.

“I’d invite you in for that drink, but I’m worried I’d just pass out if I allowed another drop of booze into my system.”

He narrows his eyes, looking down slightly. “Of course, Alissa.”

“But I had a wonderful time tonight, Maddox.”

His eyes brighten. “I did too. I’d love to take you back to the club. Now that you know what it’s like, you’ll be able to enjoy it more. Live in it, soak it all up.”

“I’d love that.”

“Wonderful.” He looks into my eyes. “Well… Good night, Alissa.”

“Good night,” I say, keeping my gaze fixed to his.

He crinkles his eyes playfully, keeping our shared stare unbroken. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“I won’t,” I chuckle, but then I gather my courage and wrap my arms around him. “No promises for me, though.”

His eyes erupt into dark pools of fire again, the same fire I saw in them when he finished off my drink. “I hope not.”

He finally leans in and touches his lips to mine.

The kiss is gentle at first, almost chaste. We stand there, allowing our mouths to overlap with one another. His lips are softer than I imagined, like two puffy clouds.

But from clouds, lightning forms.

And within a few seconds, he’s probing the seam of my lips with his tongue.

I open instantly, sliding my tongue against his. I tighten my hold around his waist as he wraps his own arms around me, digging his fingernails through my coat and into my flesh.

“Alissa,” he moans into my mouth.

The deep timbre of his voice vibrates into me, reaching my heart.

I catch on fire. All lips, teeth, and tongues. He tastes of the elderflower liqueur, of leather and musk. And of something solely unique. God, this kiss. I move my arms away from his waist up to his head, tangling my fingers in his soft hair.

He breaks the kiss and heads to my neck. Jolts of pleasure spike through me, sending sparks that ricochet everywhere and land between my legs.

He’s sucking at my neck but never stays in one place too long—thank God, I don’t need to arrive to work tomorrow with a neck full of hickeys. He finally lands at my ear, nibbling first at my lobe and then sinking his tongue inside.

“Maddox!” I cry out. My body gives way and I fall backward.

His strong hands catch me. “I love kissing you, Alissa,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

His words make me melt. I want to return the sentiment, but the words don’t come. My entire body is one huge wave of pleasure.

He cups my breast. Somehow he got my coat open.

Oh, God…

I’m wearing a bra, but he finds my nipple through the layers of fabric and pinches my nipple. A current rips through me, and I let out a soft sigh.

I want to touch him, feel him, crawl inside his perfection.

He’s back at my neck, licking and kissing up and down, up and down. Trails of warm kisses, hot kisses.

When he stops and meets my gaze…

God…

He’s smoldering. His eyes, his lips, his hair now a mess.

This isn’t the Maddox Hathaway I met in the haberdashery. The man who listens to vinyl records, drives a Rolls-Royce, and wears meticulously tailored suits to his club downtown.

This is a man who wants a woman.

And I’m that woman.

He kisses me again, this time harder, more raw. Our tongues and teeth clash as I reach for him, desperate to touch every part of him. He presses against me, and I can feel the hard bulge beneath his pants.

What the hell? He grabbed my tit.

I grab the bulge and lightly squeeze it. He groans but doesn’t stop kissing me.

His bulge, as I predicted, is huge. There’s a monster in there, and I can’t wait to unleash it.

I’m tempted to unbuckle his belt and let it out?—

But then a creaking sound.

Oh, my God. We’re not even inside my apartment. I’m ready to fuck him in the hallway.

My neighbor opens the door. Mrs. Tulgey. A middle-aged divorcée who lives alone. I don’t run into her very often, so that’s pretty much all I know about her. She’s wearing a dingy bathrobe and has on some kind of facial mask.

She widens her eyes when she sees us. “Oh, good evening, Alissa. You’re out late.”

I nod, dropping my arms from Maddox’s waist. “Hello, Mrs. Tulgey.”

She blinks several times. “Sorry if I interrupted. Just putting the milk bottles out.”

“Not interrupting anything,” I say. “This is my…friend, Maddox.”

Maddox discreetly adjusts himself before turning around and shaking Mrs. Tulgey’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She looks him up and down. “Hello.”

“I was seeing Alissa up to her apartment.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Mrs. Tulgey says. “Make sure to put your milk bottles out, Alissa.”

I don’t get milk delivered, but if this gets Mrs. Tulgey out of the hallway, I’ll humor her. “Thanks for the reminder. Good night.”

“Good night.” She looks back at Maddox, her eyes narrowed. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Just one of those faces,” Maddox says quickly. “Have a good evening.”

“I will.” She smiles at Maddox and then wags a finger at me. “Don’t forget the milk bottles.” She finally closes her door.

I let out a breath. “Sorry about that,” I say.

Maddox grins. “Probably for the best. We were about to… Well, who knows what we would have done out here in the hall if she hadn’t interrupted us.”

I swallow. “I can still bring you inside, if you’d like that drink.”

He blinks several times, scratching at the side of his head. “You know what? It’s late. And as much as I’d love to have a drink ”—he winks—“I’d rather save it for the next time. Anticipation and all. I’ll text you.”

I hope I’m successful at keeping a look of disappointment off my face.

But Maddox is right. It’s only our first date. And I’m still pretty buzzed. He probably doesn’t want me to think he’s taking advantage of me.

Damn that Mrs. Tulgey.

Oh well. The moment is over.

He wraps his arm around me again. “I had a great time tonight, Alissa. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Neither can I,” I breathe.

He gives me one last kiss. “Good night, Alissa.”

“Good night, Maddox.”

He lingers over my lips for a second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five.

He wants to. I can feel the electricity vibrating between our lips.

He wants to take me into my bedroom, strip me naked, and fuck me into next week.

But finally, after several more seconds have passed, he breaks away from me and takes a few steps down the stairs.

I reach for my keys inside my coat pocket. I place them in the door and unlatch the lock. Maddox stands on the landing, watching me until I finally close the door.

My God, what a night .

And what a kiss .

His lips on mine, his hands all over my body, his tongue on my neck and my ear.

I hang my coat up, chills running up and down my body.

I get undressed and toss my sopping wet panties into the hamper.

Damn.