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“Hey!” I said, mimicking his tone. “That’s good luck, you know.”
He uncorked the bottle and stopped in front of my chair. I swung my legs around from the lying position I had been in and shifted to perch on my knees, holding my glass up.
His eyes bored into mine as he topped up my glass. “Did it bring you luck?”
I shut my eyes and let a burst of air escape my lungs, considering the last eight years. “Our breakup aside, I think it did.” When I reopened my eyes, his face had fallen. “Alex, it’s in the past. We’re good.”
I shifted onto my butt, letting my legs dangle over the side of my chair as Alex topped up his glass and took the seat next to mine.
There was something about him being so close. It made the air crackle. I told myself it was normal—that any two people that had once been in love would have some residual chemistry, but I couldn’t be sure if that’s all it was. Especially not when he looked so fucking good.
“Are we good?” he asked.
I shrugged, half startled and half looking to buy time to find words. “I think so. We’ve both moved on. We’ve let the past go.”
Alex put his wine glass down on the side table behind him and leaned forward, fixing his gaze on me again, our mouths just inches apart, our knees pressed against each other’s. “I’m not sure I’ve let the past go, Brooke.”
Goosebumps raced down my spine. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “Seeing you again... it’s brought up all of these feelings, and I thought after we talked last night that they would go away, but...”
My mind began to spin. Why, oh, why had I drank so much damn wine? And why did he have to smell so good and look at me in that way that was just so… Alex?
“But...?” I said softly.
He moved a hair closer. So close that I could feel his warm breath against my skin. His eyes had gone as dark as the night about to swallow us up.
“But does anyone ever get over their soulmate?”
Before I could think, I grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and pulled his mouth down on mine.
With the press of his lips, I felt like I was drowning in him. The feel and taste of his mouth were so familiar, yet brand new.
He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, then shifted the angle of his head to deepen the kiss. I parted my lips with a soft moan, and he slipped his tongue into my mouth, caressing my tongue in gentle, languid strokes.
He tasted sweet and sultry, the wine even more intoxicating when I could taste it on him.
I ran my fingers up his shoulders, to the back of his neck, weaving them through the soft hair at his nape. Each finger tingled with the touch of his skin, sending my nerve endings ablaze, and before I knew it, I was tugging at his T-shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the ground.
“Brooke,” Alex began, but it was no use. I was a woman on a mission, a freight train speeding ahead.
“I want you, Alex.”
“I want you too, but—”
“Then make love to me.”
His eyes locked with mine, and with the shortest intake of breath, he kissed me again, long and hard, like we were the last two people on Earth and our survival depended on it.
My fingers frantically grabbed for his belt buckle as he lowered the straps of my dress to my shoulders. He rose and, with warm hands, pulled me to my feet before pushing my dress down my body. Scouring the length of me with eyes on fire, he reached out, running his index finger along the black lace trim of my bra.
“You are stunning,” he said.
I had to take a breath to try to calm my racing heart. I’d forgotten what it was like to feel so consumed by someone—so revered. Alex looked at me with worship. The kind that, when I was younger, I couldn’t understand. I was just me—not special, nothing to be worshiped. But the way he looked at me now made me feel all of those things.
I pressed my lips to his, savoring the softness as he hoisted me up and lowered me onto the lounger. Kissing a trail down my body, he slid his fingers beneath my panties, removing them. Then with one finger, he traced my wet seam.
“Alex,” I whispered, pure pleasure sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
