It was humiliating, but I was no stranger to that and wasn’t blinded by mortification. I saw his intent in the shadow of his victorious smile. I hadn’t read the situation wrong, this was him preying on weakness. It seemed he enjoyed doing that not just in art, but in real life. This was him fucking with my head.
Fine, Mr. Rafferty. I’ve been playing this game far longer than you have.
I kept my chin up, and my tone matter-of-fact. “You told me I could make it all go away.”
“I meant once you’ve fixed my sculpture.”
“Oh.” Did he expect me to be flustered? I smiled widely. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”
Surprise went through him like a bolt of lightning, and was gone as quickly as it had appeared. It was replaced with distrust. “You’re in a world of trouble. And your plan is to, what? Seduce me?” He shifted closer and his deep voice went to a seductive whisper. “And then I’ll just forgive and forget what you’ve done?”
Once again he was over me, invading my space, and this time the air was charged. Heat and unwanted desire wrapped around, cinching me tight as a straight-jacket.
“I paid a lot of money for your artwork, Jessica. You’d have to be one helluva lay.”
His tone was mocking, made my blood boil, and I wanted him to shut up. My fury clouded my judgement. So I latched a hand on the back of his neck and yanked his face down to mine, slamming my lips over his.
-4-
A noise of surprise came from Alec’s throat, a
nd then his hands were on my face, his fingers sliding through my long, blonde hair. His grip made it impossible to run, and easy to follow his lead. I allowed him to tilt my head back so the angle was more comfortable and he could better kiss me. I allowed him to press his soft tongue against the seam of my lips, and then thrust deep into my mouth.
I even allowed the possession of my mind.
He was supposed to push me away and call my bluff, not pull me closer. I wasn’t supposed to want it, either.
He was strong. His hands were roughened, but gentle against my cheeks. I moved my lips in time with his, responding as I should when a man kissed me. However, I wasn’t prepared for the feeling of his tongue sliding against mine, or the noticeable throb that pulsed between my legs. I wasn’t prepared for the tidal wave of lust and want, which was burning me alive.
It was just our mouths meeting, tentative and exploratory at first. Then, his body pressed into me. His firm chest flattened against mine, and beneath my bra, I tightened and pebbled in response. He brought his hips square, so the lines of our bodies were flush.
Alec’s tongue slipped deeper into my mouth as his hands began to inch down my neck. I shivered with anticipation. I was Goldilocks. Jon had been too rough, and Erik too timid. Would Alec’s touch be just right?
“This won’t,” he said between rasps, “get me to change my mind. Just so we’re clear.”
He moved so his knees were between my legs and pressed against me from chest to groin. His hardening erection pushed against my belly, and it sent a shockwave of lust to my center. This man held sway over my art, my career, and my life. I felt powerless beneath him, but it was a small death. I was high on desire, which dulled my capacity to think or care about anything else.
His fingertips traced the neckline of my blouse, following the vee down between my cleavage, even as my chest was heaving. I was confident in my abilities, yet still nervous. His gentle, almost teasing touch and the hot mouth locked on my neck forced me to tremble.
I choked on a moan when he pushed the gauzy fabric to the side and dipped inside the cup of my bra, his fingers twitching. The pulse between my thighs roared, building into an ache.
“Okay,” I gasped. “What do I have to do to change your mind?” For added effect, I eased my hand down along the front of his shirt, creeping over the bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans.
He jerked back from me so abruptly I almost fell over, and his expression was cryptic. “Get on your knees.”
A lump grew in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I’d chosen to go down this path, hadn’t I? I lowered slowly to my knees. The wood floor was gorgeous, but not soft. I kept my gaze on Alec’s back as he went to the large patio doors and shut them with a dull thud.
It was getting dark outside, cloaking the studio in shadows, and as he stalked toward me, I trembled so hard my knees squeaked against the floor. His long, artistic fingers moved to the button of his jeans, undoing it with a tug. Then, his zipper rang out.
It was really happening.
My gaze crept steadily up from the fly of his jeans, over his tight, white t-shirt that covered taut abs and developed muscle, until I reached his eyes. One step, then another, until his toes were against my knees. His expression was carnal. I wanted to capture it in my next piece . . . if I ever got the chance to create another piece.
Alec said nothing, not that he needed to. I understood what was expected of me. He’d undone his jeans, but they stayed in place, hugging his hips. He reached for me, skimming the tip of his index finger across my forehead, tracing it along my hairline, down until he cupped my cheek in his palm, his thumb pressed to my parted lips.
His finger slid inside my mouth. Just to the first boney knuckle, and then it retreated so he could drag the wet pad of his thumb across my lips. It pressed inside my mouth once more, this time all the way in, and I felt him flat against my tongue. Our gazes were locked on each other.
The man I kneeled before held so much power over me, I was grateful not to be standing. Alec had me bound and restrained far more than the few times I’d allowed my ex-husband to do it physically. Alec’s invisible bindings were stronger than steel.