20. Alice

ALICE

T he man of my dreams is standing in front of me, in real life, in front of my hotel room. And he’s staring at my boobs.

My hands twitch, and I know I should cross my arms over my chest. Or step back and swing the door shut. But I’m stuck in place, shock locking my muscles.

“I, uh…” He pauses before he glances back up to meet my eyes. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?” I’m so stunned by his presence that I’d almost forgotten about the humiliating afternoon.

“Yes, apologize.” He seems to shake himself off. “I was cruel, and you?—”

His words cut off at the sound of the elevator door dinging open. Voices drift down the hallway, and it only takes one laugh for us to both recognize it as Joey’s.

“Shit,” Michael growls, taking a step toward me, closing the distance between us.

Our bodies collide, my breasts pressed into the hard planes of his chest. But Michael doesn’t stop. He circles an arm around my back, and in one swift move, he lifts me, steps forward—propelling me back into the room—and kicks the door shut.

The sound of our heavy breaths fill the entryway of my room, drowning out any voices that might still be in the hallway.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.

Michael is in my room.

His arm is around me.

He can probably feel my nipples through his shirt.

His face is so close to mine.

The room is dark, making the scene feel even more provocative than it is. And I try to listen to the reasonable part of my brain, which is telling me that he’s just trying to avoid us getting caught together. Since he’s a judge and I’m a competitor. And he’s just here to apologize.

That’s what he said.

Michael’s chest expands on a large inhale, and his dark eyes search mine.

“Fuck it,” he growls, a brief moment before his mouth closes on mine.

Time. Stops.

Warm lips press against my own.

Michael Kesso is kissing me.

Me!

I gasp when my mind finally catches up to what’s happening, and Michael takes full advantage, plunging his tongue between my lips.

Bolts of sensation zip through my body, sparking against every inch of exposed skin, and I stop thinking altogether.

With a moan, I lean into him, kissing him back.

One large palm cups the side of my face.

His hand feels so warm against my flushed cheek. Thick fingers brushing gently over that sensitive spot in front of my ear, the pads rough from years of use in the kitchen.

I squeeze my eyes closed tighter. Afraid that if I look too closely, I’ll find this is all a dream.

A sound moves through Michael’s chest, and my hands reach out, seeking the vibration.

His body is already against mine, but I grip at his sides, my fingers clutching at the smooth material of his shirt, tugging him to me.

I need him closer.

I need more of him touching more of me.

Like he heard my thoughts, Michael’s arm around my back tightens as he rotates us.

Letting go of his shirt, I reach my arms up around his neck, letting him maneuver our bodies wherever he wants.

I still don’t understand what’s happening. But I’m not gonna question it.

Not yet.

If he dropped me on the bed right now and asked to have sex, I’d willingly light my clothes on fire if it expedited the activity.

“Alice.” He murmurs my name against my lips.

My back bumps against the wall, making my eyes pop open.

Michael’s gaze is staring back at me.

“I’m so sorry, Baby Cakes,” he whispers, brushing his lips over mine again. “Forgive me.”

Before I can answer, he’s crushing his mouth back to mine. And I feel like I can taste his apology. It’s bourbon and ginger mixed with sincerity.

His hands tangle in my hair, drawing my head back, breaking our kiss.

Michael runs his mouth across my cheek, down my neck.

“Tell me you understand,” Michael rasps against my fluttering pulse. “Tell me you forgive me.”

“I forgive you.” My voice is hardly recognizable. Or maybe it’s just the lust buzzing through my body, blurring my senses.

He groans, rolling his body against mine, and I finally take notice of the stiffness pressing into my belly.

He does it again, and this time my groan mingles with his.

“Mi—” I catch myself.

He tugs on my hair. “Say it.”

My breath catches.

“Say it, Alice. Say my name.”

“Michael.” It’s barely a breath, but I know he hears it because suddenly, the full weight of his body leans into mine. Pinning me in place.

The sensation of having Michael so close is vibrant. Decadent. Precious. It’s like a string of lights has been wrapped around me and plugged in, with no regard for safety. Like Christmas morning served up as a kiss in a man-sized package.

“Let me taste your tits.”

His words snap me back to the moment.

“Taste my?—?”

“Please,” he begs against my throat. “Let me taste them. Say yes.”

My breasts are already throbbing, with an echoing response between my legs.

The hands in my hair release, sliding down the bare skin of my neck… my shoulders… to my sides.

His palms are warm against my ribs, his thumbs barely an inch below the bottom swell of my breasts.

My tits.

I nod.

His thumbs shift. “Use your words, Baby Cakes.”

“Yes, Michael.”

He drops his face until his forehead hits that spot between my neck and shoulder.

“Yes, what?” It sounds like the words were dragged out of him.

My face flames before I even say the words. “Yes. Please, Michael, will you suck on my tits?”

“Jesus.”

The way he says the word makes me feel like I should cross myself. Not that I’d even know how.

A loud rip fills the space a moment before cool air hits my bare skin.

“Fuck, Baby.” Michael’s tone is reverent as he takes a tit in each hand. “Goddamn perfection.”

I’ve always been a little self-conscious of my boobs. A touch too large. Not perky enough. Nipples a little too big.

But the look on Michael’s face matches the sound of his voice. And the sight of his big hands supporting my breasts has me feeling like the most desirable woman in the world.

I open my mouth to say something, but then his mouth opens… and closes over one peak.

Even knowing that it was coming, I still startle, nearly choking on my indrawn breath.

This isn’t real.

A tongue laps at my stiff nipple.

This seriously can’t be real.

His hands knead and squeeze.

His teeth scrape and bite.

His mouth sucks and licks.

And I die, just a bit.