Page 3 of Guarded Hearts
The bartender set two bottles of beer on the bar, and Alyssa waved him off with a grin when he tried to give her change. As far as I could tell, the bartender had given her a few free shots already. He returned her grin, and Alyssa scooped up the two bottles with one hand and gripped my hand with the other to lead me away from the bar, away from the other dancers, deeper into the VIP section.
At the very back, there was a curtained portion, and Alyssa poked her head between the drapes before pulling me in behind her. While I often followed Mia from place to place, I never felt out of control. But I was starting to wonder who was in charge right now.
“I should go,” I said. The curtained areas in the VIP section were familiar. Mia used them if she and Tyler came together, but I always stood guard on theoutside. I didn’t need to know what happened behind closed curtains.
Alyssa turned on her heel and passed me one of the beers. “Stay, please.” She collapsed into one of the plush leather couches and patted the seat beside her. “You can pretend like you don’t know me again tomorrow. I promise.”
Pretending I didn’t know her would never be the problem. I stayed by the entrance to the closed-off area and drank my beer in silence.
“Don’t you… have a boyfriend?” I asked, trying to gauge her behavior.
Her smile slipped, and she tilted her beer, letting it pour into her mouth. After she swallowed, she held my gaze for a beat. “I’m going to be honest. I didn’t invite you back here to talk.”
“Why did you bring me here?” My voice was rough with desire. Just the hint of seduction was enough to make me hard to the point of pain. If she was offering what I suspected, I didn’t know how I’d say “no.” Wasn’t sure I could.
She set her bottle on the table beside the couch and sauntered over. “I’ve had a rough week. I was hoping you’d help me drown my sorrows.”
My heart kicked at her words, and my gut clenched. I’d have no trouble drowning in her. All the air had left the room, and the way her hips swayed as she glided closer made it impossible to think clearly.
On her toes, her lips grazed my ear, and she whispered, “Let me drown in you tonight.”
When she withdrew and our gazes connected, every logical thought vanished. I’d watched her from afar for months, longed for a taste, for the chance I was getting tonight.
Was it wrong to say “yes”? On so many levels.
But I couldn’t force my feet to retreat when every other part of me wanted to stay. She plucked the bottle from my fingers, drained the rest of my beer, and let the bottle thump onto the carpet at our feet.
Her fingers came to rest on the top button of my jeans, and she stared up. A silent question.
“You’ve been drinking,” I said.
“The only drinks I’ve had are the ones I drank with you,” she said. “I’m not drunk. Not even close. I promise.”
“You’re sure?” I tried to remember if she’d smelled like alcohol when she’d been sprawled across my lap—but all I could remember was warm vanilla and flowers, which were now overpowered a bit by the stench of beer. Maybe she was being truthful.
“Positive,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me.
I drew her hand down to press against my erection. I was so hard I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to help her drown before I lost control.
With a flick of her fingers, she undid my jeans, and her hand slid into my pants, gripping my length. I let out a strangled grunt of pleasure, and she stroked while drawing closer, our bodies brushing together. My pants were open wide, my boxer-briefs only half on.
I leaned down, my hands digging into her hair, and I kissed her like I’d wanted to for all the weeks on this tour and all the months on the lastone. Our lips collided, and our tongues tangled. She tasted like beer and vodka.
My hand eased up her dress, and she parted her legs when I ran my fingers along her thigh and gripped her ass. I moved her panties to the side and groaned into her mouth when I realized how wet she was. Wet for me. For this. Seemed impossible, but I couldn’t deny what I was feeling as her panties fell to the floor. There was no way I was going to last as long as I should.
When I lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around my middle, and I laid her down onto the couch, our lips barely breaking contact. My exposed cock brushed against her wetness, and I sucked in a breath. When was the last time I’d wanted a woman like this? Never. I’d never wanted anyone with this urgency, this evaporation of everything I thought I knew about myself.
“Alyssa,” I murmured, burying my face in her neck and rocking against her, straining to keep in check.
“Again,” she said, securing me tight against her so my length slid along her most sensitive parts. “Again. God, do it again.”
Had the alcohol caught up to me? Or was being with her like a drug? Desire made me delirious as I followed her orders. She responded to every movement as though she was on the cusp of losing all control, and I couldn’t get enough of her, of the sighs and cries, of the way her nails dug into my back through my shirt, of the way she held me so close.
“I’m gonna come,” she whimpered. “I want you inside me when I come.”
Her words went straight to my cock, bypassing my brain, and I slid down my boxer briefs and slipped inside her wet heat, eager to find release for us both, striving, searching, ecstasy just out of my reach. Any rationalthought was gone, and I was so deep in the moment with her, I couldn’t think of anything else. I was drowning in sensation.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, right there.” She arched her back and wrapped her legs around my middle. “Slower. Oh.” She breathed. “Yeah. Like that.” The words were almost a whisper in my ear.
