Page 66 of The Hanukkah Hoax
Alec chuckled, then took her hand in his and guided them toward the door. “Enjoyed himself a bit too much at the cast wrap party. He’s crashing on a mate’s couch tonight, but don’t worry, he’ll be joining us at the Ball tomorrow.”
“He better. I’m looking forward to meeting the man Hugh first let himself go home with.”
“Not too eager, I hope, because tonight, I’ve got plans.”
“Oh? What sort of plans?”
Alec opened the car door for her, then held her gaze as she slid into the seat. The muscles in his neck strained against his collar, and the streetlamp’s glow forced all her attention on his scarred smile.
Pinpricks of arousal danced along her skin, igniting her body even further as the determination in his expression hit her in full force.
“I’m locking Hugh in the guest room and taking my girlfriend to bed.”
As they drove off beneath a vast sky dotted with light snowflakes and darkened not by deadlines but by desire, Marisa bit her lip and knew one truth with thrilling certainty.
When Alec spoke those words, he wasn’t faking a damn thing.
The drive across town was an exercise in suspended animation. Every breath that puffed out of Alec’s lungs seemed to enter Marisa’s, until there was no safe quarter for her being so close to him. He had become elemental. His scent, his smile, his laugh, the way his knuckles groaned against the steering wheel’s leather when his impatience started to get the better of him—they were all signs that had begun to build in the vital helix around her heart, so much so that by the time they’d reached his brother’s apartment, her limbs had turned to jelly.
Good thing, too, because when she went to open her door, Alec was already outside, grabbing her hand and freeing her from the stuffy car’s cabin, a strained eagerness creasing his features.
Her lungs tightened further around her racing heart as he all but sprinted with her across the parking lot.
So she wasn’t the only one trying to hold it together long enough to avoid a public indecency charge.
The only respite he’d allowed her was when she rested her flushed cheek against his broad back as he punched in the keycode for the apartment. Three times. On the fourth try, she had to bury her laugh between his scapulas while Alec’s brogue-laced blasphemies pelted the poor locked door.
“Damn fat fingers. I fucking hate this thing. A key. All I need is a bloody key!”
“I happen to like your fat fingers.” She giggled, curling around him and punching in the code he was trying to enter. The light instantly turned green, and the metallic lock clicked open in time to Alec’s jaw grinding its frustrations.
“You did not just say that to me.”
“I did,” she said smugly. “What are you going to do— Uf!”
Alec captured her face within his strong hands and sealed his lips to hers. Vaguely, she was aware of him backing them into the apartment. A door closed, she was sure of it, the lock snicking into place right after. There was a fair bit of mastiff-flavored barking, some mumbles against her lips that sounded like fuck off, pest, the hasty removal of outerwear, and then her feet were off the floor.
Something about being weightless in Alec’s arms drove her passion to heights that had previously been well above her salary bracket. The way he lapped and suckled and swiped against her lips was an exercise in reverence, as if each kiss he claimed was a careful prayer and her body was the altar upon which he’d bestow them.
“Alec,” she whispered against his mouth, not quite sure what she wanted of him but just knowing that she wanted.
“Not done yet,” he said against her lips, settling her onto the couch and shifting his attention to the hollow divot at the base of her throat. Lord, his mouth felt wonderful on her skin, every press a mixture of silk and just the right amount of scratch from his short beard, mimicking the delicious strain in her chest.
Seemingly overnight, what started as a strategic deception had blossomed into an essential need. With Alec’s lips on her, kissing her, consuming her, he’d somehow managed to push out all the doubt and disillusionment that had marked her as a failure among her family and replaced it with far more joy and passion than anyone had a right to experience.
He marked her as worthy. As precious. As his. As something worth loving.
Maybe? Hopefully? She gulped at the thought.
And because she had no earthly clue what to do with a gift as precious as what Alec was offering, she did the only thing she could: shared as much of her heart with him as he’d accept.
She gentled her hands at the sides of his ribs, using his strength to steady what her limbs could not, but so much of his greedy touch and eager mouth unhinged her to the point of giddiness. When that clever tongue of his found her aching nipple through her shirt, she couldn’t help but suck in an excited breath.
“Oh, you are an evil, evil man.”
“Hush, woman. I’m busy tending to things.” He pulled her shirt higher, dipping his head to pay homage to any patch of skin he seemed to begrudgingly omit from his prior attentions. At the same time, she worked to squirm out of her jeans, doing her damnedest to feel as much of this man against the vital parts of her as possible.
“You are so bossy.”
