Page 59 of The Hanukkah Hoax
He lowered his head and kissed her through the earth-shattering tremors that claimed them both, never wanting to take his mouth off hers. If he did, a terrified part of him worried he’d never find his way back.
Chapter 24
The only reason Marisa even bothered to crack an eye open at the ungodly morning hour was because the running water in her bathroom was most definitely not the result of her toilet’s sticky valve.
The shower cut off, and Maria snuggled deeper into her sheets, her eyes fully open as she waited for the unimaginable truth of her night to walk over the threshold of her bedroom door.
Her cheeks heated, and she curled her toes farther into the sheets, remembering just what those sheets had served as a backdrop to a handful of hours before.
She’d made love with Alec Elms. In her bed. At least a prime number’s worth of times.
How’s that for fucking ground rules?
In the light of the new day, the haze of her sex-addled mind reluctantly shuffled away, pulling back the curtain on the shitstorm of her reality, which Alec’s clever tongue had done wonders to keep at bay for a time.
Though they’d yet to talk about it explicitly, as their mouths had been engaged in other affairs, Alec was still leaving.
But the way he’d made love to her last night wasn’t with the fleeting affection of someone who didn’t plan on sticking around.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Marisa’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling as she recalled what her body had yet to forget.
“Put your arms around my neck, Marisa. That’s it. Don’t let go. I’ve got you.”
“I love how your hair wants to trap me against you. Like you’re stealing me away, keeping me for yourself. Nothing would make me happier.”
“I need to see you come apart on top of me again. Now and every day after.”
Admittedly, Marisa didn’t have a lot of experience in the casual sex department, but those hardly seemed like things a man would say if he planned on leaving soon. Right?
The bathroom door creaked open, and Alec strode into her bedroom, freshly showered, wearing a pair of boxer briefs and an adorably tousled look that showed she wasn’t the only one still humming after their late-night escapades.
And that was when she got a good look at him and just how much of a man she had invited into her bed.
Not a man. A professional athlete. A rugby player.
The defined ridges and planes that she’d only known through a careful physical sensory analysis had nothing on what all that strength looked like stacked on top of each other. His wide shoulders, which she had never paid much attention to on a man before, now served as the armored mountain peaks of his body from which great ranges flowed. Alec’s torso was a map of exquisite contours and honed rippling muscle, to say nothing of his powerful thighs and perfectly sturdy backside.
It was as if everything about Alec Elms, from his scarred smile to his sinewy strength, was designed to thrill and excite.
It would have been enough to make any woman lose her mind.
Except Marisa didn’t have the luxury of lost faculties. Instead, her brain blitzed out and coughed up the craziest idea she’d ever had. Even crazier than what it would be like if it were all real.
Crazier than if he stayed.
She took a fortifying breath. “I have to?—”
“If you say, ‘draw me,’ I’m going to gently remind you that I’ve seen Titanic, and I know what happens after Leo draws Kate like ‘one of his French girls.’ If you want me to make love to you in the back seat of a vehicle, you don’t need to go through all those hoops. I’m easy to please, especially if you’re the one I’ll be pleasing.”
Gulp.
Marisa tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach long enough to keep her train of thought on the damn rails.
She failed spectacularly.
And all Alec could offer for her fish-like gaping was a charming chuckle and sliding all that gorgeous male confidence into bed next to her as if her mind hadn’t already started going through their prior activities list in said bed.
