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But with him here, one hand wrapping around my throat, the other stroking my clit, I can’t help but let myself hope.
The world fades around us, and my focus falls onto Alexander. The way his hair is a mess from my fingers. How his muscles bulge through his shirt. His fingers, holding me in place, not even needing to use any force.
In this moment—this blissful, perfect moment—I’m completely his.
When I come, it’s with a cry that echoes throughout the park. He follows soon after, and I watch as his body tightens, stills, and then collapses onto me.
We lay there, and I gaze up at the few stars glistening in the sky. The steady feeling of Alexander’s heartbeat calms me, and I wrap my arms around him.
After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, he pulls out of me, leaving a trail of kisses down my body before he straightens and pulls his pants back up.
I find my underwear and shorts, fully remembering that we’re in the middle of a park. The trees and darkness only offer a certain amount of cover.
Goosebumps are covering my arms as Alexander pulls my hoodie over my head. My hand slides up his chest, and he pulls me into a soft, warm kiss.
With multiple layers of clothing between us, I’m gaining my senses again. Part of me wants to hold him close and tell him that I’m his, forever. But the smart side of me knows that’s a recipe for disaster.
We walk back to the house in silence, my hand in his. He doesn’t come back inside—just leaves me with a kiss before walking back to his car in darkness.
I watch him go from the entryway’s window, still feeling his cum leaking out of me.
The house is quiet, so I assume the girls have gone to bed. It’s for the best. I don’t work at the coffee shop until tomorrow morning, but I have some client work I need to get done. And since I just slept for almost eight hours, I can’t pass up this time to get some writing done.
Hell, I can’t pass up any time to get some writing done. If I want to make enough money to be able to quit my day job, I need to keep myself focused on building up my little business.
So I head up to my room, open up my laptop, and write until around two. By then, I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, so I let myself take a short nap.
Thankfully, I don’t dream.
CHAPTER THREE
SOPHIA
THE SHOP is busy this morning, keeping Lissa and me on our toes. When Brent walks in, I barely even realize that he’s early again.
Finally getting it together, huh?
My stomach flutters. I can’t deny that responsibility is an attractive trait. I’ve always thought Brent is pretty cute, but I’ve been telling myself for months that I just don’t have time for a boyfriend right now.
And then Alexander swooped in and barely gave me a choice.
For a moment, I let myself think back to how he felt inside of me last night, telling me that he’d missed me—and how I’d said it back without hesitation.
Brent clears his throat, and I realize I’m standing behind the counter, staring out the window with his coffee in my hand.
“Right! Sorry. Here you go. Proud of you for being early again. I won’t keep you this time.” I flash him a quick smile while I ring him out.
He steps away from the counter, but his eyes stay trained on me. “Like I said, you’re worth it. That guy seems like an asshole. Is he... giving you trouble?”
I shake my head. This isn’t the time for the truth. “We were just fighting last night. It’s complicated.”
Just then, the door opens again, and I don’t even have to look over before I know it’s Alexander. It’s almost like I can feel him.
Apparently, the same isn’t true for Brent. He pauses for a moment before saying, “So you’re not single?”
Shit. I open my mouth to say something, but I barely have a chance.
Alexander walks past Brent, beelining for the counter. “Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He reaches for me, pulling me until my hips hit the counter. After planting a kiss on my lips, he pulls away and smiles.
