And the mouth that is the subject of a thousand close-up photos—it’s sucking at my jaw, my neck—
I pull back, squeezing my eyes closed. “Okay. This is weird.”
He reads my tone immediately.
“No.” Alec tilts my face up to his. “Don’t do that.”
I slide my hands around his neck again. Dig fingers into his hair. His mouth hovers only a fraction of an inch away from mine and he tilts his head, waiting, letting me make the final decision.
I stretch, pulling his lower lip between mine, sucking. A helpless moan escapes his throat and he cups the back of my head, deepening the kiss with tongue and teeth, with his other hand sliding down my back to my ass, where he can hold me, grind into me.
“This,” he says when he pulls away to suck in a breath. It’s still like this, he means.
He walks backward to the bed, tugging me with him before sitting at the edge of the mattress and smiling as I straddle his lap.
Pulling back, I rest my fingertips beneath his jaw, holding him still and studying him feature by feature. Taking him apart and putting him back together in my memory, up close. The warm dark eyes. His perfect, straight nose. A soft, full pout; his lips make my own mouth water. Sharp jaw, cheekbones from dreams.
“How long do we have?”
He moves his eyes without turning his head, glancing at his watch on a lifted arm. “Two hours before I have an interview here.”
Two hours isn’t that much time away from work, I reason. I’ll do this instead of eat or clean or reply to emails.
Setting my fingertip on his left cheek, I fit it into his dimple when he smiles in reaction. He leans in for a kiss.
“Be still,” I tell him, and he laughs soundlessly.
I draw a path from his forehead down his nose, across the bow of his top lip. Alec sits patiently as his bottom lip gets traced next. Cupping his jaw, I tilt his head up, looking at his neck. I have a thing for masculine throats, and his is the stuff of fantasies, of dreams I wake up from sweating and hot with the urgency of unfinished business.
So it gets my attention first; I drag my tongue up the length of it, sucking on his Adam’s apple; it vibrates against my lips as he moans.
I suck his lips next, licking them, sinking my teeth into the bottom. Beneath me, he starts to move his hips, thrusting up slowly, his hands sliding beneath my shirt at my back.
I kiss his cheekbones, his eyelids. I rest my mouth against his temple, breathing in the clean smell of his shampoo. His hand makes a slow journey up under my shirt, gliding up my spine. With a quick flick of his fingers he unclasps my bra.
When I pull back, his eyes drift open and meet mine. I feel suspended in place, motionless, while it seems like he stares directly into my mind.
His gaze travels over my face as he reaches up to move a strand of my hair out of my eyes. “See? I was right.”
“You’re going to be smug now?”
“Mm-hmm.” He leans in, and whatever patient energy we managed for the past few minutes is incinerated when he kisses me. Hot, open, his mouth slides over mine with the same vibrating desire I feel. His big hands go back under my shirt, sliding to the front to cup both breasts as he exhales something I don’t understand.
“What did you just say?”
His lips move down my throat. “It’s prettier in Korean, but essentially I’m saying I like these on you.”
I laugh. “Boobs?”
He laughs, too, rolling me to my back so he can push up my shirt and put his mouth on my stomach, kissing his way up my body. “It’s a nicer way of admiring your curves.”
I fit my hips to his, rocking against the shape of him, hard, in his dress pants.
He grunts a quiet sound of frustration. “An unexpected oversight,” he says, and nips at my bottom lip.
“What?”
“This isn’t my room. It’s the room we’re using for interviews.”
“Is that going to be really weird later?” I ask, laughing.
“I doubt it. We’ll be out in the seating area.” He frowns. “My present concern is that my bag isn’t here.”
His meaning doesn’t immediately click. But then he flexes his hips up into me again, and… oh.
“No condoms?”
“No condoms.”
“There are other things we can do,” I say into a kiss.
“If memory serves,” he says, “we did just fine during our first round last time.” Alec takes my breast into his mouth.
I tug my shirt off and then his, and he settles over me, his skin warm and smooth. When he kisses me, the fever rises, overtaking my instincts to be slow and enjoy every second. I scratch down his back and know it’ll leave a mark, but it just makes him more frantic. He pushes up onto his knees, tugging my jeans off and stilling at the sight of my underwear.