Page 177 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

He took pity on me though, only teasing my prostate one more time to hear me gasp, before he slid free and rose to his feet.

My head was spinning, our roles reversed so effortlessly back to the way they normally were that I hardly noticed the change. Not until Alex hadturned me around and my face was tucked against his shoulder. His big hands swiped up and down my back, fingers taking a minor detour to slip inside my ass on a couple glides south.

“You’re so pretty when you’re in charge,” Alex promised against my ear. “Such a pretty, pretty kitty.”

“Nng.” My response was lackluster at best but Alex didn’t seem to mind. It took every ounce of brain power I had, but I managed to sling my arms around him, squeezing tight. “You were so good,” I gasped, the words aching as they slipped free. “So perfect for me.”

Alex made a soft sound, melting around me like a giant, muscly blanket.

Apparently, even men as self-assured as Alex needed praise after intense scenes. It felt odd to voice the words I’d often ached to hear, but it was therapeutic too. Like it healed part of me that had been shriveled and full of cracks.

“You did so well,” I continued, stroking his muscular, solid back. “Thank you for giving me that.”

This felt…dare I say…equal?

Which was something I hadn’t known a relationship could be.

Alex kissed the top of my head, his hands mirroring mine as we embraced in the quiet, dark room. It was a perfect moment. Special. Full of eye-opening epiphanies, fun, and orgasms.

I was glad it was Alex here with me.

Glad to be learning what love meant from someone as precious as Alex James.

Fifteen minutes later, we were under the spray of the shower again. Neither of us spoke, but we didn’t need to. We took turns sudsing each other up and stepping beneath the spray, unhurried this time. Alex was maybe a little too thorough when it came to my ass—but I wasn’t complaining.

When we were finally dressed and clean—with the shower spotless and as innocent as it’d been when we’d entered—I knew with certainty that I was going to sleep well that night. Bugs be damned, woods be damned, impending trip back home to New York be damned.

Because Alex was by my side.

And when he was there, it was easy to forget that the world could be an ugly, scary place.

I should have known our happy bubble could only last so long. The universe was out to fuck me over any way it could, like usual. Life wasn’t fair. I knew that. And apparently…my bad luck was rubbing off on Alex. Because this was…horrible. Worse than dropping Neil at the airport. Worse than Brendon’s texts.

Way fucking worse.

Monumentallevels worse.

Not because it was embarrassing, or mortifying, or humiliating. But because after spending three days attached at the hip to Alex, I was privy to most of his facial expressions. I knew his smirk, his grin, the gooey-proud face he made when he saw June and Roderick together, hidden behind a playful grimace. I knew what he looked like when he was cocky, or horny, or kind. I knew when he was shy, or bashful, or embarrassed by my praise.

But this expression?

This was new.

One second we were squabbling playfully on our way to the tent from the bathrooms, and the next, everything went to shit.

“Wait,” Alex’s voice was hoarse as he pulled me to a stop. His lips twisted down, brow furrowed, distress evident as he stared at his bare wrist like he couldn’t seem to fathom what he was seeing. The friendship bracelet dangled there. On its own.

And with sickening clarity I realized what was gone.

His watch.

Oh shit.

Fuck.

He’d told me the watch wasimportant.

But like him, I hadn’t noticed its absence—too drunk on our love affair to be anything but blind.

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