Firebird (The Firebird Trilogy #1) Read online

  “Seriously?”

  “You want me to drive to your place and back? That’s an hour and a half on a good day.”

  “Ugh. Fine.” She hung up. A cab would be too expensive, and even if there had been a hotel nearby, she couldn’t afford it.

  Stephanie knocked on his door so softly she hoped he wouldn’t hear. She’d be better off in the parking lot. No temptation. Alex was stubborn but not stupid. He wouldn’t invest so much effort into winning her back if she hadn’t encouraged him. The obdurate past would not allow them to go on with life. She should pray for another trade or that she could somehow break his spell; living in the same city under current circumstances depended on it.

  He opened the door, a drink in hand. “I’ll call for a tow in the morning and drive you to work.”

  “No. I mean, thank you, but people will get the wrong idea if they see me getting out of your car.”

  “Of course.” He rolled his eyes and stepped back to let her in.

  “I’ve been leading you on. It’s not fair to you.”

  With a hand on her arm, he escorted her back to the couch. “When did you stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  “Loving me. Why?”

  “Alex, I…” Her throat clicked when she swallowed, the words lodged there. “It’s a lot to explain. But that’s not what happened.”

  “Then what? God forbid you let yourself be happy.”

  “You’re awfully certain you can help me with that.”

  “So convince me I can’t.”

  His lips skimmed hers, urged them to open for him. Their tongues met in a sensuous gambol. She did not pull away. She did not stop him. And with each lush recoupling of their mouths, she lost a bit more of her resolve. Lost in wanting, his kisses obliterating for the time being any awareness of a man named Joe. Her heart had only ever belonged to one man, and her body let him know it. Most men found her gratification unimportant. So quick to take and reluctant to give. But his mouth was doing things to her neck that would surely leave marks, that urged her to move in time with his caresses and the liquid pleasure flowing into her limbs. She wove her fingers into his hair. Her body was having none of her brain’s attempts to ruin the moment.

  “People think I’m heartless with women.” He ran his tongue along her jaw, up to her ear. “It’s only because I cared about one too much.”

  Her phone buzzed and lit up with a text message.

  Joe: Where are you? Everything ok?

  “Shit,” she muttered. Alex broke contact and popped an ice cube into his mouth as she typed into her phone.

  Stephanie: Call you in a few minutes.

  He closed his hand over hers and guided it and the phone back to the table. The gin’s juniper-berry spice, the tequila’s vegetal flavor, and the rum’s mild sweetness mingled with the cold of his tongue as it dipped between her lips. Goose bumps erupted all over her flesh. If her mouth had been created to do anything other than kiss him, she could scarcely remember what it was.

  Alex, his hands on her waist, withdrew to trace the periphery of her lips in a slow circle with the tip of his tongue. The pinging in her stomach, the maddening tingle, intensified. She squeezed her thighs together. He pulled back, smiled, and ran his tongue along her lips again. Intoxicated by something far more potent than alcohol, she resented Joe more than she already did for not having bothered to learn such things.

  “I have to call him. He’ll seriously start calling my friends or the police.”

  “You picked a winner.”

  “I picked him because he’s nothing like you.”

  “Maybe that’s where I went wrong. Hoping I’d find someone like you instead of looking for someone the opposite.” Alex swigged his drink. “Anyway, I’ll let you take care of business.”

  He disappeared into the darkened hallway, and Stephanie picked up the phone to call Joe.

  “Where the hell are you?” Joe demanded. “I’ve been worried sick!”

  “I had a couple drinks with Rhonda and decided to crash at her place.” How easily the lie came. She finished off her Long Island Iced Tea to emphasize the fuck she did not give. The room spun a little. Her limbs felt fuzzy, warm, as if encased in woolen socks.

  “On a weeknight? Why can’t you take a cab home?”

  “Yes, on a weeknight. I’m an adult, Joe. I’m allowed to do things like that. And I didn’t want to leave my car.”

  “What the hell has gotten into you lately?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, and I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “We need to talk about some things.” Scolding. Condescending. I expect my future wife to act a certain way.

  The resentment building all evening blossomed into full-blown animosity. He could shove his hipster sexism right up his skinny ass. “Yeah. Fine. Good night.” She pressed End.

  Alex was standing at the hallway entrance, arms crossed. Pity in his eyes again. “Really going to marry him?”

  “Not now, Alex. Look, it’s late. I need to get some sleep.”

  Disappointment shadowed his features. “Right this way.”

  She followed him into the first room on the left as he flipped on the light. A full-sized bed occupied one corner, and two bookcases flanked his desk beneath a window across the room. A shirt lay on the bed.

  “I didn’t know if you wanted something to wear. I don’t wear that shirt anymore, and…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be up for a little while.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So…good night, then.”

  “Good night.”

  “Chert voz′mi.” Shaking his head, he closed the door on his way out.

  Stephanie undressed down to her panties. In the full-length mirror, she caught sight of a body that hit the gym three times a week but was softer in places than she’d like. Not that it mattered to Alex, who hadn’t learned to take her for granted. She held up the shirt. A white button-down from the big-and-tall section, it hung to her knees and swallowed her hands. The cotton smelled of detergent and cedar.

  “I know what he did.”

  She whirled around. She’d figured out early in life to lock doors when she’d discovered how immaterial her privacy was to certain people, the narrative of her childhood written by the person who would take it away. She’d forgotten to lock this one.

  Diffuse light from the desk lamp cast the room in a placid, golden glow. Alex, wearing only lounge pants now, was leaning in the doorway, appraising her with those hungry eyes. “That looks very cute on you, by the way.”

  “Alex! You scared the shit out of me. Who did what?”

  “Your father. I know what he did.”

  The words burrowed into her ears like worms. Her stomach constricted. She ordered herself not to cry. “Why would you even—?ˮ

  “You flinch the slightest bit when I touch you, but you thought I didn’t notice. When you’re startled, you get this look in your eyes like something terrible is about to happen.” Alex moved the arms she had crossed in defense so she could hold him instead. “You never told me.”

  “I didn’t tell you a lot of things.” Why did I throw that back at him? She sank onto the bed, fingers clenched and anxiety burning a hole through her chest.

  “I suppose I had that coming.” He sat beside her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Stephanie. Those little cracks you feel inside don’t mean you’re broken. Everything you thought he ruined is still right here. And it’s beautiful.” He skated his fingers over her cheek. “You are so beautiful, baby.”

  “Alex—ˮ

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it. Please. Not right now. Just tell me what your heart says.”

  “Can’t you feel it?” she whispered. I love you.

  His skillful, silken tongue dove deep into her mouth, coiling with hers. She slipped her hands over his hot skin. She memorized him with her fingertips, each bruise and cut, the sculpted
muscles, the dark hair drizzled over his chest and lower belly, his six-pack abs. His muscles jumped a little when she stroked his skin, like an electric shock passing between them.

  Alex laid her down and kissed her neck, her throat. His hips swayed against hers in the cadence of an act she could not allow to reach its natural conclusion, his cock hard beneath the flannel pants. He undid the first button on her—his—shirt, then another, and another, revealing a strip of bare flesh all the way to her navel. Every hair on her body rose as he trailed a finger down the center of her body. He unfastened the rest of the buttons and pushed the fabric aside, exposing her breasts, then blew across each nipple. He massaged her, sucked, and rolled his tongue over them. She was trembling, her nerve endings raw and screaming. Alex kissed his way down her belly, licked the inside of each thigh, and kissed each hipbone. More kisses along the creases of her pelvis before he tugged her panties down and flung them to the floor. Kissed her swollen outer lips, his mouth a gentle breeze on her inflamed flesh. Her skin fluttered. If he wished to play, she would gladly be his piano.

  He slid two fingers into her. She huffed, arched her spine, and spread her legs wider. He flicked his tongue over her clit and tapped his fingers inside her. A feral moan clawed its way out of her throat. Joe didn’t like going down on her; she had to beg for it. And he would have never thought to get her off first, ignore the impulse to prioritize his own gratification.

  Fuck Joe. Figuratively speaking.

  She gulped as much air as her lungs could hold. Alex lapped at her, and she twisted her fingers into his dark hair, pushing his face into her. He removed his fingers and skimmed them along her thighs as he plunged his tongue in and out. Laving and sucking at her, his tongue a warm, wet sponge giving her pussy the same deep, openmouthed kisses as her lips. He licked up and down, blazing a molten trail as his stubble scraped her tender flesh. He drew circles around her engorged nub, sucked at it, nibbled. Whenever she teetered at the edge, he kissed her thighs instead. The delicious ache intensified, filling her like a glass of water, overflowing. She writhed as if to escape, the pleasure too incredible to endure.

  His tongue’s serpentine flicker as he made eye contact was enough to propel her over the brink, weightless, then freefalling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come without using her own hand, the depressing thought chased away by a spreading tingle as her mind shut down consciousness of anything except Alex’s tongue. Then the abrupt, intense upsurge riding out to such a forceful throbbing it seemed she was turning inside out. Pushing against him, she moaned in an ecstasy for which there were no words. Her head was spinning, her body shaking, tightening, and her breathing irregular and labored. Her eyes rolled back, and her thighs quivered. A complete loss of control she did not want back. She bucked her hips against his mouth, grinding, struggling not to scream but unable to quiet the detonation. Her cries ricocheted off the walls. Her tattered breath hissed in and out, and so did his.

  A series of tender pulsations carried her back to the world. The throb inside her was waning. Her knees wobbled, and her chest heaved. Alex kissed her body all the way back up, as though eight years had been hours and as though eight years would contrive at any moment to separate them again. His tongue offered her the pungent flavor of juices she’d never tasted before, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. She wanted him to fuck her until she couldn’t speak, and she wanted to run away with him as though they were in some stupid Lifetime movie and live happily ever after in a place where no one knew who he was.

  He smiled, but its ineffable sadness suggested he knew how this was going to end, that morning would impose on them the reality she wished she could reject.

  “You have the most beautiful eyes,” she murmured.

  He batted his lashes, and she erupted into giggles. The smile grew bigger, showing his white teeth. A number of them were implants. “Did you know only two percent of the population has green ones?”

  “You would know some random statistic like that.”

  Alex trailed his fingertips over her cheek, down her neck and her breast. If a single kiss could explain the enigma of love, his did. Soft yet sensual, intimate, his mouth lingered as if imparting a piece of himself to her. Then separating, catching her bottom lip between his and tenderly sucking. She didn’t want to open her eyes, afraid he would vanish like the breathtaking dream he must be. The only man she’d ever loved had quite literally skated back into her life, and she could not grasp why she ought to regret it.

  She saw ghosts in his eyes, and they were wearing her face. Her breath hitched.

  “Tell me to go,” he said, “and I will.”

  “No,” she whispered. There was no disgrace in granting her heart its fondest wish when she was about to deny it that same happiness for the rest of her life. “But I shouldn’t…”

  “I just had my tongue in your pussy, and you’re going to get shy about sleeping in the same bed?”

  “I know, but…”

  “You didn’t drink enough. You’re thinking too much.”

  She sat up and teetered to one side, indicating she had in fact drunk plenty, even if alcohol never quite dulled her mind enough to relieve her inhibitions. “I have to. Multiple things will go wrong with my life if people find out about this.”

  “Steph, you’ve always been a little high-strung. Tonight, just shut up and enjoy the moment.” He smiled and patted the spot beside him.

  Stephanie wrung her hands.

  “You’re staring at me like I’m filet mignon.” He winked.

  She turned away and gave her mouth a surreptitious swipe to check for drool. “I’m sorry. I just…” Wanted him so badly. Every part of him, from his gorgeous black hair to the kinked toes broken from playing the game he loved. Her body throbbed in a way that ought to make her feel guilty, ashamed, for having cheated on Joe to this extent but instead demanded she take what Alex was offering.

  “You’re uncomfortable.” He smirked. “It’s funny, da? There was a time we couldn’t get our clothes off fast enough.”

  “But that was—ˮ

  “A long time ago.” The smile faded. He picked at something on the comforter. “It doesn’t have to keep being a long time ago.”

  She lay down, her back to him. He ran a hand over her arm.

  “Here you are, in my bed. And I’ve just gotten you off. Maybe now you’ll be honest with me about why you’re marrying this guy. We’ve already established he’s terrible in bed. Is he good to you in other ways?”

  “He…” But she couldn’t think of a single thing to redeem Joe, to convince her heart of his worth when her heart’s desire lay beside her.

  “You’re tense. Some things haven’t changed. You still think you don’t deserve to be happy.”

  “Stop doing that,” she whispered, and curled up. She sucked in a deep breath and kept blinking until the tears went away.

  “Doing what?”

  “Just…knowing what I…”

  “I know,” he whispered in her ear, “because you were my best friend. You were my everything.”

  “He’s not like you.” Alex’s mere presence augmented the miserable, inescapable truth of it, and she began to cry despite her best efforts.

  Until he smothered her mouth in a kiss that melted whatever remained of the icy wall she’d built around her heart. That water, warm now, rushed through her and into her limbs, her core. She fastened her arms around his shoulders and, pulling herself up a little, thrust her tongue between his lips. He forced her legs apart with his knee and lay between them, then moved his hands down her body, her skin tingling where he touched her. He settled them on her waist.

  “Do you want me?” he whispered.

  Her want was the entire crux of the problem. “Alex, I can’t…”

  “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  She swallowed and stared up at him.

  “I’m not trying to upset you, Stephanie.”

  “I know.”

&
nbsp; “But you are upset.” Alex pressed his lips to hers in a poignant kiss. He rolled off her and curled up under the blankets, his arm around her. He rested his hand over her heart. She twined her fingers with his and, though she hadn’t expected to sleep at all, she did so with a child’s peace in the amnion of his love.

  ***

  She woke around six thirty. Disoriented for a moment, not recognizing the room. Her heart speeding up at the sight of Alex beside her, their legs tangled and their arms around each other. She grudgingly extricated herself from him. A sound sleeper, he didn’t stir except to roll onto his back as she sat up and picked the crust from her eyes. She dressed, then poked around the medicine cabinet in the bathroom across the hall for some ibuprofen.

  When she closed the mirrored door, he was standing behind her. He scratched his head and pushed his hair back as if posing for a designer underwear ad.

  “Leaving without saying good-bye?”

  “I thought you were still asleep.” She wedged her hands into her pockets so she wouldn’t touch him.

  He closed his fingers around a fistful of her hair and jammed his mouth to hers, an ardent kiss that buckled her knees.

  She grabbed the counter before she puddled onto the floor. “Alex, stop.” She pushed him away, though she had to pry her hands from that chest. “This shouldn’t have happened. I drank too much, and I let things go too far.”

  He furrowed his brow as if he didn’t understand her and opened his mouth to speak, but only a soft, sad sigh came out. He leaned over the sink and knuckled its porcelain edges. They had shared so much last night. Yet the power to hurt, power itself, was a narcotic her brain, having tasted it, was unprepared to relinquish.

  “Go,” he said.

  “It’s not that I—ˮ

  “Go away.”

  And, turning that power on herself, she did.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hello?” Stephanie grunted into her phone.

  “Who the hell is calling at this hour?” Joe had to get up in fifteen minutes anyway. Stephanie pressed a finger to her lips.