Chapter Twenty-Three

Alfie

There’s that saying, “Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.” I’ve been increasingly desperate to have Stephanie in my bed over the past few weeks. Now that she’s here in my arms, little hints of panic are pressing in on me.

I’ve had sex with lots of women, but I was never emotionally involved with any of them. Never so invested in making the experience wonderful. I’ve never been to bed with a woman who is as open and vulnerable as Steph.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know.” I say this as I stall near the staircase rather than doing what I’ve imagined a thousand times, which is to lift her in my arms and carry her to my bed.

She blasts me with the tenderest smile. “Got it.”

As she cups my cheek, her affection bursts out at me as though it’s an iceberg, something she’s only shown me ten percent of until now.

“Word on the street is that there’s some type of game plan?” She cocks her head, trying to appear bold, but by the slight quiver in her lips, I imagine she’s as nervous as I am.

Nervous? Me? I vow to myself to never reveal the power she has over me.

I sweep her into my arms, watching her closely to ensure this is what she wants and then carry her up the stairs two at a time. Still, I’m reluctant to reach the bed, wanting to prolong the wait despite how desperate I am, how desperate I think we both are.

Instead, I circle with her from one end of my spacious bedroom to the other, as though we’re waltzing at a formal dance. Tucking her closer, I place my lips near her ear and whisper so many things I’ve longed to tell her.

“The words ‘game plan’ were a misnomer, Steph. This isn’t a game, not to me. At first, I just saw you as my assistant, someone to help with paperwork, because I’d rather spend my time making music. But it changed so fast.”

I nibble her earlobe, suck it into my mouth, then breathe into her ear until she shivers.

“I loved your strength, how you walked out on me that first day, even though you needed the job. You held firm to your principles.”

I gently suck the spot behind her ear, quickly learning that it makes her gasp in pleasure.

“Every day, I found something else about you to admire. You never flirted, never manipulated. It wasn’t artifice I fell for, Steph. It’s just you.”

Her arms are wrapped around my neck, her fingers playing with my ruff.

“That first day,” she murmurs into my ear, “I walked out, never intending to see you again. I felt humiliated, dismissed.”

I stop waltzing and lean a few inches away so I can look into her eyes to show her how serious I am, that I’m giving her my full attention.

“Let me apologize again. It was shitty. I was shitty.”

“Can we make an addendum to our contract, Alfie? Agree that it’s a thing of the past? That we’ll never bring it up again?”

“Mmm.”

It feels good to have that behind us.

“Let’s seal that not with a signature, but with a kiss,” she says.

I dance and kiss her and gaze into her eyes like a besotted fool. It feels wonderful.

Although I’m trying to go slow, to help both of us clear the air and slowly shift gears from boss and employee to lovers, it appears Steph has no more need for the slow lane because she reaches down, grips the hem of my tee, and gets as far as the widest part of my horns before she gives up with an exasperated huff.

“It takes finesse, Steph. I’ll teach you the finer points of shirt removal another day.” I manage to keep her in my arms even as I wiggle and turn and yank the damned thing off.

With a close-lipped smile, she pulls away to admire me. It’s no secret I wear as few clothes as possible. She’s seen me shirtless more days than not, but this seems different.

Perhaps she knows what I’m wondering, because she says, “It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to really appreciate, to look with a lover’s eyes.”

Fuck.That word arrowed straight to my cock. I don’t want to take my time anymore.

“I need more of you, Steph. Take your shirt off.”

She wriggles out of her shirt and shyly leans back for me to get a good look. I have no doubt that this lacy, red slip of a garment isn’t something she wears every day. My guess is that it probably hasn’t seen a lot of action.

“You wore this for me, sweet. It’s beautiful and sexy and if you don’t take it off soon, I will absolutely hate to tear it into tiny pieces to get at you.”

Was that too bold? Evidently not, because she tosses her head back with a laugh and removes the offending garment faster than I would have thought possible.

“Fuck!” I breathe when she’s bared her breasts for me. “So beautiful.”

I’m so busy taking them in, forcing myself to look before I touch, that it takes me a moment to notice the way her lips purse slightly, her brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. The front of my mind can’t quite figure out what just happened, but the back of my mind throws me a picture of Ashley/Amanda’s big, fake boobs.

Stephanie is feeling inadequate? Let me banish those fears right this moment.

“The perfect size.” I wish I had the self-control to pierce her with my most meaningful stare, but I can’t tear my eyes from her breasts. “If I were a better male, I’d wait longer before I do this.”

I rearrange her to straddle her legs around my waist, use one hand under her bottom to keep her in my arms, then bend to lick and then suck one into my mouth with a pleasured moan that leaves no doubt as to how pleased I am.

“Sorry,” I say as I lay her on the bed. “As much as I love having you in my arms, I need both hands for this.”

Easing next to her, my weight does some of the work for me as it dips the mattress and makes her roll closer. Then one hand plucks one nipple as my mouth sucks, lips, and nips the other.

Steph can be standoffish when she wants, a good Southern girl. But when I kissed her on that plane the other day, I discovered how responsive she is. She arches into my touch as she slings a leg across my thigh and pulls us more tightly together. We’re close enough that my cock, hard enough to hammer nails, throbs against the V between her legs. She moans at the contact.