looked at him, dumbfounded. “For real? You were just plastered all over me.”
The thick cloud of want returned with a vengeance. His fingers dug into my skin as his grasp tightened. I could see him battling with himself internally. But why? Thinking as quickly as my love-fuzzed brain would allow, I placed my hands on his hips and leaned into his chest.
“Tell me what you want,” I insisted, using the words he’d spoken to me time and again.
His expression faltered in a manner so subtle I almost missed the change. Releasing his hold on me, he aimed a laser stare in my direction. “I want you, love.”
I unbuttoned his jeans, peeling them off as I sank to the floor. He made the male body look like a piece of art. I traced along his hipbone, savoring the v-shape. His labored breathing filled the hallway. I teased him a bit, running my nails along his inner thighs before taking his erection into my mouth. I loved hearing him sigh and moan as I took my time enjoying his body. Every little quiver, no matter how subtle, spurred me on. I had him exactly how I wanted him; vulnerable. He shoved his hands through my hair, pulling it. I responded by hollowing my cheeks, forming an airtight suction.
He groaned, his left leg shaking violently. I kept one hand on his hip and the other around his length. He was close. I could feel it. His body was rigid. Fisting his hands in my hair tighter, he held me in place. Always the control freak. I teased him again, releasing him from my mouth and letting my warm breath glide over him.
“Don’t stop,” he ordered in a hoarse whisper.
Looking up at him, my heart skipped a beat. Eyes closed, his head was pressed against the wall. Ecstasy was etched upon his face. Mine. Carnal instinct took over. Focusing on just the tip, I wrapped my lips around him. With a yell, he came hot and thick in my mouth. I didn’t move until he finished.
Folding to the floor like a paper doll, he sat in front of me. I sat back on my heels, admiring his sated expression. Tilting his head to the side, he ran a hand through the tousled mass of dark red hair framing his gorgeous face.
“No hallway sex, huh?” I smiled.
“Bit of a minx, aren’t you?”
I laughed. “You have no idea.”
“So it seems.”
“Are you blushing?”
“No.” He smirked. “Come closer, please.”
Scooting forward, I leaned over him, placing my hands on either side of his legs. The warm glow radiating from his emerald eyes made me so happy. He cupped my cheeks, smiling softly.
“Welcome back to Glasgow. I hope this is a weekend you’ll never forget.”
“So far, so good.”
Still smiling, he pulled our foreheads together. “You probably want to freshen up after your long flight. Everything you need is my bedroom. I’ll fix us some breakfast.”
He stood up, redressing with ease. I grabbed his hand and walked with him toward the kitchen. Everything sat in its place in his immaculate house. It would look perfect gracing the pages of Architectural Digest with its luxurious furniture and ornate decorations. Neutral tones suggested a warm welcome, subtly accented with deep, rich colors. But there were no personal touches, nothing that gave anything away about the guarded man who lived here. My heart pinged with sadness. Buried beneath his hard outer shell was a broken soul trying to heal after years of self-reproach. Nobody saw that part of him except for me.
Slapping me playfully on the behind, he told me to take as much time as I needed. I scurried off to the bedroom. The door to his walk-in closet was wide open. I peeked in, stunned by the array of clothes bursting from each corner. One side held all of his suits, ties and dress shirts. Shelves stacked with more casual clothes lined the wall.
I swallowed, looking to my left. The rest of his closet was filled with clothes for me. Not just jeans and capris and other everyday items I wore but formal dresses and gorgeous high heels, too. Neatly folded on shelves were various satin and silk nightgowns and robes. Jesus. There are enough outfits in here to last at least six months.
“Too much?”
Startled, I spun around. Alastair leaned against the doorframe, concern flashing in his eyes.
“It’s, um, there’s a lot of stuff.”
“I don’t want you to think…Lia, are you alright?”
I held onto the doorknob. Everything that happened this past week flooded back into my consciousness. The room spun. I felt Alastair’s arms tighten around my waist.
“Look at me.”
I did as I was told, focusing on his firm hold. “I’m fine, sorry. Must be the jet lag.”
His searing eyes scrutinized my face. I forced a smile, hoping to convince him nothing was wrong.
“Seriously. You know me and jet lag. Next thing you know I’ll be tripping over carpets.”
That seemed to work. He lifted my hand, pressing a small kiss to the palm.
“Did you buy all this yourself?”
“Of course I did. Who else would?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d sent Paxton to do this.”
“Paxton?” His eyes widened in amusement. “He’s a great bloke and all but I don’t think he’d appreciate being sent out with a list of women’s clothes and beauty products to purchase.”
“Well, I mean, he drives you around. I just thought he—”
“He drives me around for work purposes, that’s all. He’s my security detail, not my errand boy,” he scowled, retreating a step behind his shield.
Dammit.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you can’t do things for yourself.”
Too late. The relaxed, sated aura dissipated. He stared at me blankly for a few seconds. The silence was deafening. I’d much rather he shouted or complained about whatever it was that bothered him. The quiet added layers of tension but this was his way. I’d be able to see through his cracks if I was patient enough. Of course, he could see through me with zero effort. The give and take was a delicate balancing act we were still figuring out.
“I’ll leave you to do whatever freshening you need. Come find me in the kitchen when you’re done.”
Without so much as a backward glance he walked out. I felt sick to my stomach. Deciding not to dwell upon his abrupt mood swing, I went into the bathroom. Lined up on the counter were a variety of my favorite beauty products. He remembered. I grabbed the bottle of almond scented bubble bath. Stripping out of my clothes, I filled the white stone bathtub until it almost overflowed. Settling into the warm soapy water, I leaned my head back. Another unpleasant replay of the week’s events consumed me. I had to stop thinking about it. All I wanted was to enjoy my time with Alastair. Nathan and those damn photos could wait. There was no way in hell I’d bring up the crazy accusation that his uncle hired a tabloid
