for the first time, it didn’t feel like some kind of horrible admission of guilt, of wrong doing.
“Did you ever do it again?”
“The opportunity never came up. I found that while I liked him, I didn’t have an overriding attraction to men, exactly, so I didn’t find anyone else to pursue. He’s more bi than I am, I think, though. He’s had boyfriends and girlfriends, over the years. I think it’s why he stayed here, instead of following his father home. Russia is—not kind to men who like men, no matter how rich you are.”
She stilled under his hand, and he read the signal in her mood. He’d gotten too serious, but it was also true, and it seemed important information for her. The only important person in his life she hadn’t met was Leo, and the man only looked impervious. She turned towards him, then, and leaned forward to kiss him softly. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said.
“Are we done?” It was a dumb question to ask, but the words escaped without asking his permission.
“You’re tired,” she hedged. “And while the first part of that story was very very hot, the end of it was—well, it wasn’t. And we should get some sleep.”
There was that word again. Someone had attached weights to his eyelids, and he could feel the bed pulling him down deep into its embrace. He rolled onto his back and opened his arms; she snuggled in on his shoulder. “Later,” he said. “You wake me up if you’re all horny and need some relief.”
She laughed and said something, but the words vanished as he tumbled into sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zoey woke up when the sky was still a pale shade of gray, before the sun had really started to rise. Alex ’s breath was slow and heavy behind her, his arms soft around her body. She luxuriated for a moment; it was rare for her to wake up next to someone, rarer still for them to still be holding her, still caring for her even as she slept. She’d thought about this moment before, about how people woke up like this in movies. She’d thought it would feel smothering, overwhelming. Too much pressure. Instead, it was a comfortable sensation, and she breathed it in for a moment before slipping carefully out of his arms and heading towards the door in the room that she assumed led to the master bathroom.
The room was smaller than she’d anticipated. The finishings were nice, clearly high quality, but less extravagant than anything else she’d seen in the flat, or even in Alex’s penthouse. It took her a minute to figure out the hot and cold taps—they were backwards from what she expected—but when she stepped into the shower, there was that same delicious sense of luxury as the water washed away the sweat and grit of travel. She closed her eyes and just relaxed into the spray.
She jumped when the shower curtain pulled back, a little squeak escaping her throat, even though she saw that Alex was standing there, his eyes still sleepy, but a smile curving his lips. “I woke up and you were gone,” he said simply, as she moved over so that he could step into the narrow stall with her.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“It’s okay to wake me.” His hands were light on her hips, but his eyes were heavy with sleep and hunger. “I don’t know if I can manage to fuck you in this shower. It’s a lot smaller than I was anticipating.”
Desire washed through her, unresolved want from their brief talk last night, from cuddling with him for hours. “I’m sure we could figure something out. If you really want to.”
“I want to,” he said. He turned her quickly, so that she was facing the wall of the shower. He wasn’t quite forceful, but she would have needed to work to resist him. He nudged her legs apart with his feet, and then his hands were wrapping around her body, finding her nipples and her clit with a kind of efficiency that—she could see how some people would view it as routine, but at
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