Undeniable Page 6

  His hands moved lower, toward the hem of the leather skirt that had bunched up around my waist and when his fingertips hit the edges of my scar, I stiffened. Don't touch me there. Please. I couldn't say it. If I did, he'd ask and I didn't want to tell.

  "Let me touch you, Alexis." He pulled his mouth away from my breast and lowered his lips against my scar. "Let go."

  I tried to resist the urge to make him kiss someplace else, but wherever he touched burned anyway. I was so fucking his, whether I wanted it or not. He was making me his, like the alpha male he was. He could be sweet and caring, then get him in bed and he was a powerful deviant, capable of so much pleasure and pain. He was taking what he wanted and it lit my fire into a blazing inferno.

  Joe kissed the length of my scar tenderly, worshipping the broken skin with his tongue, his gaze darting up to meet mine. When I could bare it no more, I dug my hands into his hair and pushed him away as hard as I could.

  He looked up at me, his gaze full of anger, lust, confusion, and before he could force me to endure it again, I sat up and pulled off the silk blouse, dropping it onto the floor and unclasped my bra and tossed it. Fumbling with the button on the skirt, I dragged the zipper down. Not wanting to let him leave the spot between my legs vacant, I yanked the piece of leather over my head and flung it across the room. I was in nothing but a pair of red and black lacy knickers, spread out in front of him like something to eat. Maybe there was a little bit of Alexis Storm in me after all, but maybe I was being an epic bitch by using sex to distract him from the hard questions.

  Collapsing back onto the bed, I let my fingers trace my clit and the other hand plump my breast. "You want to touch me, Joe?" I moaned, feeling the heat beginning to rise between my legs. "Touch me there. Touch me with your cock."

  "Fuck," he hissed, tugging off his jeans. "Do you realize what you do to me?" He stripped off his boxers, his hard on standing to attention. "You push all of my buttons, beautiful. All of them." His fingers pulled the lace knickers down my legs, cool air kissing my throbbing folds. "Fuck control."

  He reached for a condom and my eyes lit up knowing that he was going to make me come again. I wanted to come like that night in Hong Kong. I wanted him to snap and lose himself. I wanted to feel his total lack of control as he came apart inside me.

  Joe held his body over mine, a hand spreading my legs wide as he captured my mouth with his. He kissed me with all of his pent up rage, our tongues twisting, dancing, fucking.

  I felt the head of his cock pressing against my opening and I moaned into his mouth, urging him to thrust, to fill me to the brim. I needed to feel it again, I needed this time to be real.

  "Fuck me, Joe," I pleaded. "Fuck me."

  I knew he understood when his hands caressed my thighs apart even further. His touch was softer than before, less demanding, and finally, he eased into me with a deep groan and I hooked my legs around his, anchoring him to me.

  "Fuck, you feel incredible. So fucking tight."

  He began to move, stroking me with a skilled precision I'd never felt with anyone else before. He withdrew right to the tip, before thrusting deep, his pelvis massaging my clit. This time, his gaze never left mine, his brown eyes narrowing with exertion. The only sound that existed was our heavy breathing and my whimpers of pleasure as he fucked me at a steady pace.

  My orgasm was building painfully slow, my skin heating, but I never quite got there. Joe held me at the edge, not letting me fall.

  "Please," I moaned, clawing at his back. "Please make me come. Please."

  Rising slightly off me, he pushed my legs up and open. "You want to come?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  He slammed into me with a grunt, pushing my body up the bed. "Is that how you want it?"

  "Yes," I gasped, wanting more. "Again."

  He thrusted again and this time he didn't stop. The room filled with the musky scent of sex and the sound of our skin coming together in delicious slaps as he fucked me hard. He remembered where I liked his cock striking and he hit the same place over and over. When I finally tipped over the edge, it was just as hard as our first time together, desperate and exhausting…and one hundred percent satisfying.

  "That's it, beautiful," Joe grunted. "Harder."

  He urged my orgasm on and I found myself wondering if he ever ran out of energy. I hoped he never did, because this man was a fucking demon in bed. With one last moan, he stilled deep inside me, his own release coming hard.

  "Fuck, Alexis," he sighed, collapsing against me. His breath fluttered my hair and I turned to face him, brushing my lips against his forehead. The scent of sweat and sex clung to us and I found myself breathing deeply in the afterglow of another shattering orgasm. Every time, I thought to myself. He did it every time.

  Kissing me softly, he breathed, "If you think I'm letting you go now, you're fucking dreaming."

  The thought of this sexy as fuck man not wanting to let me go warmed all the right places. After so much time being on my own, I wasn't sure what I should be doing. This wasn't one of my novels where I could make up whatever I wanted. I couldn't make Joe do anything and I definitely couldn't make him stay once he knew every part of me. Was it selfish to just pretend a little longer? This time I was being myself, but soon enough this thing would end as everything else seemed to and I didn't want to die knowing that I could've had this beautiful man in my bed a little longer.

  Joe rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. I felt cold, burying underneath the covers. The outside world just melted away and I couldn't care less about my deadline or that embarrassing scene in that fancy restaurant. When he came out, I let my gaze wander across his toned stomach, across his tattoos, over his cock, before travelling back to his face. He had a stupid grin on his face as he climbed back into bed with me.

  "What are you thinking about?" he asked, settling back into my side.

  "A lot of things," I replied, curling an arm around his stomach.

  "Well, I'm thinking about how amazing that fuck was…again."

  "Do you think about anything else?" I asked with a laugh.

  "Lately, no. All I can seem to think about is you." I met his gaze and wondered what he saw in me besides the fact that our bodies seemed to fit together.

  "You might not want to be Alexis Storm," he whispered, "but that word was the omen that helped me find you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I always thought I was the eye of the storm. Affliction, all of that…" He cast his gaze over my shoulder. "It's a hurricane twenty-four seven. I'm the voice of reason. I'm the one that rides the storm out."

  I watched his changing expression and realized he had his own troubles to deal with. What they were, I couldn't even begin to wonder.

  "I always hid my own storm because everyone else's were more…violent, I guess. It wasn't until we went on hiatus that I realized I was so…lost." He grasped my face, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of my neck. "You calmed my storm with your own. You're my storm."

  "Your storm? What storm could you possibly have inside you?" He nodded slightly and I knew I was a hypocrite for asking. I didn't want to reveal my own.

  "Everyone's got something, storm." I felt his hand come to rest over my waist and the double meaning didn't escape me, not for one second.

  "Well, if you're going to give me a stupid nickname, then I can give you one," I declared, turning the conversation around.

  "Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

  I thought about the other day on the plane and the moment I first saw him. I'd likened him to a guy in one of those calendars… "Mr. November," I said.

  "What, like a calendar?"

  "Yep."

  "Why November? Wouldn't December be better?" He gestured to his dick. "Who wouldn't want to unwrap that?"

  "November is all about the build up," I said with a smirk. "The anticipation of what presents you're going to get at Christmas. Unwrapping them is fucking amazing, mind blowing even, but it's nothing but a wh
imper without the build up."

  He shook his head, eyes sparkling. "Fuck, you're good."

  "I'm a writer. Words are my business."

  His fingers traced the scar on my side and I flinched away.

  "What's this?" he asked, obviously trying to push the envelope yet again.

  "What does it look like?" If I was shitty to him about it, he'd drop it. Just drop it.

  "A pretty fucked up scar," he drawled, calling my bluff. "I want to touch you everywhere, Alexis and I want you to let me."

  "A few days isn't long enough for me to let you touch everywhere."

  "A few days with the right person is more than enough."

  "Please," I pleaded, dropping my shitty tone. "Please don't make me."

  His expression softened and he pulled my body against his. Another erection was pressing into my stomach and despite how shitty I was feeling, a lazy grin spread across my face.

  "You're insatiable," I said, moving against him.

  "You do it to me, Alexis. You. I don't know how many different ways I can say it before you see..."

  I didn't know if I wanted this to go to the place it was heading, relationship waters, so I said something that was entirely self-serving. "I'd rather you show me."

  And Joe was more than happy to oblige.

  Joe

  Rolling over, I found myself in an empty bed, the smell of Alexis' perfume stuck to the sheets. It was quiet, so I assumed she'd snuck out in the middle of the night. Total and utter disappointment flared in my gut and I wondered what I'd fucking done.

  It was obvious that she had some kind of trust issue because every time I touched or even mentioned that scar across her side she seemed to go into meltdown. What had happened to her to make her think she was so…undeserving?

  It was true that I didn't know much about her, but still something inside me was saying that this was right. The sex was phenomenal, I couldn't be a guy and not think about that, but shit, fuck, ass…then there was the little glimpses of her as a person and I wanted more. I didn't understand why, I just wanted to know more.

  And she'd walked away. Again. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

  Getting up and wandering into the bathroom, the moment I looked down I began grinning like a stupid fuck. She'd written her number in black Sharpie on my dick. That woman… What a fucking devil. She kept saying she was a boring little wallflower, that she wasn't Alexis Storm, but I knew better. I'd seen it with my own eyes. How the fuck couldn't she see it? Everyone else could. All those people that came to get their books signed saw it. Her publishers obviously did. What wasn't she getting? I wondered what piece was missing, because I'd find it and put it where it belonged.

  I shook my head, went back out into the room and grabbed my phone. The burning question was, how the fuck didn't I feel her writing on my cock?

  I'd just saved Alexis' number when my phone started ringing. Jake's name appeared on the screen and I wondered what was so important he had to take time away from his woman to speak to me.

  I didn't bother saying hello, but that was our thing. "What do you want, Jake? I'm naked." Everyone called him West, but he'd always be Jake to me. I'd known the wanker since we were kids.

  "Fuck you, prick." Jake laughed. "I know I've seen your dick, but I don't need the visual."

  "I could've been in the middle of something."

  "Where are you?"

  "Melbourne. Hotel."

  "You okay? You sound fucked."

  "I think I've just been fucked over, mate." I ran a hand over my face, my palm rasping against the stubble on my chin.

  "In the literal sense of the word?" he asked with a chuckle.

  "Yeah, you know about it. Fucking great sex over and over, total stunner…she's in my head, mate."

  "Holy crap. Joe Fox the one-nighter messed up over a woman?"

  "She wrote her number on my dick with a Sharpie while I was passed out."

  "Fuck, Joe." Jake was laughing his ass off. "Where do you find them?"

  "I sat next to her on the plane."

  "That was days ago. You've found a sticker?"

  My playboy lifestyle was no secret, along with the fact that I didn't attach. Jake knew it, but after seeing him and Blair together, something had changed inside me. Then I'd laid eyes on Alexis and I didn't know which way was up anymore.

  "Joe? Fuck, mate. Are you pussy whipped? Say something."

  I heard Blair say something in the background and then there was a rustling as they fought over the phone and I found myself smiling. After all their bullshit, things had become so easy between them. They belonged together and I wondered if I could have that with Alexis.

  "Joe?" Blair had obviously won their wrestling match over the phone.

  "Hey, Blair. FYI, I kicked the ciggies."

  "Good. From the sounds of it, you need your dick in tip top shape. Smoking is disgusting. It didn't suit you."

  "Your ability to verbally grab someone by the balls and twist is unbelievable."

  "I know and I love using it maximum effect. What's her name then?"

  "Alexis."

  "She light your fire? Can't stop thinking about her?"

  I felt like I was talking to a twisted therapist, but the no holes barred approach was what I liked best about Blair. "Yeah."

  "Then welcome to the human race, Hugh Hefner. You've got a fucking heart and it's finally beating."

  "Shit, Blair. You do know I'm sitting here starkers, right?"

  She began laughing like a maniac and Jake said something in the background. "Listen to me and stop thinking about your dick for thirty seconds. Hands off while I'm talking to you," she said wickedly before turning serious. "You gave me some pretty fucking good advice once." I remembered the night I'd sat with her at the bar in some hotel in Europe, giving her all the reasons why she should stick it out with Jake. That was me being the eye of Affliction's storm. "So, I'm only going to say this once, so it better sink into your thick skull," she was saying. "Go and fucking get her, tiger. Go hard or go the fuck home."

  "Trust you to tell it like it is without the cotton wool," I drawled.

  "Minimum fuckwattage, Joe. You want her, go and get her. Easy peasy."

  "I don't think it will be that easy, Blair. Not this time."

  "Joe, if it was easy, it wouldn't be worth it. Obviously I'm speaking from experience."

  "Let me talk to him, B," I heard Jake say in the background.

  "No," Blair replied. "Your BFF has to go get laid. Again by the sounds of it. Leave the prick alone."

  "Thanks, Blair," I said, stifling a laugh.

  "Any time, big boy." The line went dead and I dropped my phone back onto the bedside table.

  Glancing down at the number written across my cock, I couldn't help the stupid fucking grin coming back. Shower first, then I'd think about what I was going to do about Alexis. I meant it when I said I wasn't going to let her go again. I wasn't leaving Melbourne without making her see she was worth the fight, and I was definitely not leaving without her by my side.

  Jake had his wildcat and I had my storm. She was the storm swirling in the opposite direction to mine. Together, we cancelled each other out. Together, there was no storm. I just had to get her to see it.

  Alexis

  I sat at my laptop, the screen illuminating the dark room with a soft glow. Every time I went to put my fingers on the keyboard and get on with my manuscript, my thoughts went straight to Joe. Joe and his amazing cock. Joe, the first man who was able to get an explosive reaction out of my body. I'd had great sex before, I wasn't a closed-legged prude, especially considering I wrote about it for a living, but Joe…he really knew where to put it and what to do while it was there.

  The last thing I'd expected was to fall into bed with him again, but there was this magnetic pull, or something in the water, or the food, and all coherent thought went out the window. My head was swimming with all kinds of dangerous thoughts.

  I'd distracted him from as
king the nasty questions with sex. Alexis Storm was becoming more and more a reality to the point I wasn't sure who the fuck I was anymore. He was changing me, changing the person I'd become right to the core without even trying…and it absolutely terrified me.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time, writing my mobile number on Joe's dick. It seemed like something he'd like. I was positive it was his favorite appendage, but now I was starting to regret it. What if I couldn't live up to the woman he'd met on the plane

  I was so distracted, I was having trouble concentrating on work. Somewhere along the line, my alpha male main character's name had changed to, you guessed it, Joe.

  My phone began ringing shrilly in the silence, making me mash the keyboard. Cursing, I picked it up to press the big red decline button but it was a number I didn't recognize. Maybe it was Joe? My stupid heart did a little flip-flop at the thought that he'd call so soon. But maybe it wasn't him.

  I answered the call and said, "Hello?" It came out almost like a squeak and I readied myself to hit the end call button.

  "Sharpie on my dick?"

  I almost dropped the phone. "Joe?"

  "Who else would it be? Or is it your thing to write your number on random guy's dicks?"

  "No," I snapped. "I mean, no, I'm not usually like that."

  "I don't mind," he said with a laugh. "Its just gunna be a bitch to get off."

  "Sorry."

  "Don't apologize. It got a rise outta me."

  I groaned at his lame joke, but he always seemed hard anyway. Randy as fuck.

  "What are you doing?" he asked when I didn't reply.

  "Working."

  "Is this a bad time?"

  I glanced at my laptop, at all the search and destroy 'Joe's' I was in the middle of replacing, and said, "No. It's fine."