Playing It Safe(26)

“Do you like it?”

I walk past him and back toward the bed and grab on to one of the posts to test out its durability because you never know. “I do. I like it a lot. It suits you.”

He comes up to lean against the other post and grins. “How so?”

“I don’t know exactly, it just does.” Bullshit, I totally do, but I’m not about to go into it with him. Can you imagine if I were to say, “It’s sleek, gorgeous, and perfect like you?” Yeah, like that wouldn’t lead to any awkwardness between us.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t know why exactly, it just does,” he teases.

We fall silent, and after a moment, he pushes off the post and closes the space between us. He’s so close that I can feel the heat coming off of his body in waves. I look up into his sky-blue eyes, which are dancing with mischief, and realize that all I need to do is stand on my tippy toes and I’d be able to reach his lips. It takes every bit of self-control to not jump at that impulse running through me and do exactly that. Instead, I stay put. Trapped by my own cowardice and nerves and, honestly, curiosity at what’s going to happen next.

“You didn’t move away this time.”

“Do I win a prize?” I throw back at him. Seriously, this back-and-forth turns me on like nobody’s business.

“It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on whether I think it’s the right time to give you your prize,” he says.

“What kind of prize is it, Alex?”

He searches my face before settling on my mouth, staring at it for a second or two, then bringing his heated gaze back to my eyes. “I think you’ll like this prize, Julia. As a matter of fact, I’d be willing to bet my life on it.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” I say.

It’s then that he shocks the shit out of me by taking one hand and snaking it around my waist slowly. He pulls me even closer so that my body is flush against his, and I have no choice but to steady myself by putting my hands on his biceps. When I look up at him, his eyes are fixed on mine. He brings his other hand to caress my cheek before smoothly moving it back to the nape of my neck to keep me in place—not that I have any intention of going anywhere. And he knows it, as evidenced by the devilish smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I lick my lips in anticipation just as he dips his head, but he bypasses them altogether and heads for my ear.

“Why don’t we cut the bullshit, shall we?” he says in a low voice that causes my nipples to perk up and say hello.

I don’t say yes, or nod, or even move one goddamn inch; I may in fact be holding my breath while my heart is beating erratically in my chest.

“We’ve been playing this game for a very long time. And I’m all for playing games, Julia, but sooner or later, one of us is going to win.”

I take a gulp of oxygen and pivot my head an inch so that my lips barely brush against his cheek. “Alex?”

“Hmmm?” he responds and starts to slowly trace my jawline with his lips. God, that feels good. His lips are soft and sure as they roam down to my neck, and I arch my back in his arm to give him better access.

“You should know that I’m kind of a sore loser,” I whisper.

His light chuckle resonates against my neck when he moves his mouth to place the softest of kisses there. “That’s the best part. Even if you lose, you win.”

He continues his slow torture of kissing and nipping up my neck until reaching my chin, where he stops to hover over my lips without touching them. Holy mother of God, I might have reached an orgasm, and he’s not even technically kissing me yet.


“Do you give up?” he asks in a low voice.

“Never,” I say back to him and loop my arms around his neck.

“Have it your way then.”

I feel the faintest trace of his smile against my lips when he finally starts to kiss me, slowly and with smooth deliberation. His tongue gradually seeks entrance, and I open for him with ease. He deepens the kiss by lightly tugging on the back of my hair so that he can angle his mouth over mine completely. It’s as if he can’t get enough of me, the way he’s taking his time exploring my lips, caressing my tongue with his and savoring every second.

This is what it feels like to be kissed properly and thoroughly. And the only coherent thought that races through my mind is that I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in my lifetime, but this—nothing has ever been quite like this.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

You have got to be shitting me. The freaking Chinese delivery guy has to start ringing the doorbell just as we’re finding our groove. Really?!

Alex reluctantly breaks off the kiss but doesn’t budge to answer the door. It rings again, and he unleashes a gratified expression, dimples and all, while I’m struggling to make sense of what I just let happen.

“I win, and don’t you dare think of running on me,” he warns.

“Um …”

“I like you all tongue-tied—should make for an interesting evening,” he says.

He lets me go then and turns on his heel to answer the door. I’m left standing there trying to rationalize how I got myself into this predicament. I steady myself on the bedpost and look in the direction of where he disappeared to, my brain going in every direction and my body still humming from the few moments of nirvana that it got to experience.