They could have danced until sunrise, sweeping each other around the shore of a golden sea hundreds of feet above the earth, but inevitability pulled these two stars together, their collision moving both heaven and earth. They had been coy before. They let their hands wander the length and breadth of each other, learning the lay of the land, so to speak, but it was always done on the shy side of caution. Never overreaching. Never presuming.
Tonight, there was no question what the other wanted and what they were willing to give to get it.
It was an altogether different sensation for Alex, falling through her door wrapped in someone else's embrace and remembering it. Hell, starving for it. How they managed to get back to her apartment was an inconsequential blip in their evening. Maybe they danced into the shadows and magically moved locations. More than likely, it was a cab.
They thumped against Alex's door, closing it with a hard click, hands never stilling, pulling at hems and buttons and fabric as if trying to unwrap each other. Clothes came off in layered chunks, little thought or care put into the removal. It was flavored with a touch of desperation; like they were running out of time and had to devour the other before they were ripped away again.
Dark fabric pooled at Alex's feet as her dress slipped from her shoulders. Bare save for a pair of black lace underwear — a bra wouldn't have worked with the dress — and her heels, she stood proudly in her partial nudity, eyes heavy-lidded and body on fire under Lee's stunned stare. There was a distinct difference imagining someone naked and actually seeing it in person.
Using the break in rhythm to step closer, Alex ran her fingers across Lee's brow, moving aside the mussed hair that had fallen into her face. Smile warm, she moved again, bodies braced against one another, breathing a quiet, "Are you sure?"
Lee nodded with cartoonish eagerness, the want pouring from her body making Alex ache in cruely fantastic ways. Not to be over-dramatic, but if you don't touch me, I'm going to self-combust.
Throwing her head back, Alex laughed. "Well, since you put it that way."
In an effortless roll of her torso, Alex slipped a leg between Lee's thighs, using the forward motion to grind into the junction between her legs. Lee gasped against Alex's lips, fingers curling into the soft skin of her waist at the same moment she rose, their bodies nearly fusing as Alex's fingers worked free the buttons of Lee's shirt.
Smell. Taste. Feeling. It was intoxication at its finest, and Alex drank Lee in one hungry kiss at a time. The sensation of her tongue ghosting over the sharp tips of fangs was new but woke something carnal, making them both a touch wild. Little finesse was put into getting from the door to the couch. Edges were bumped into. Apologies muttered against lips. They tumbled onto the cushions together, Lee sitting heavily back while Alex straddled her.
If Alex was starting to feel the high, Lee was already drunk. They shared a moan when Lee's shaking hands followed the seam of Alex's underwear to the junction between her legs, fingertips barely tucking under the fabric.
Electricity pooled in the hollow of Alex's pelvis, and she pushed down into Lee's hand, grunting at the missed connection. She could feel the heel of her palm a bit too high to hit what so desperately needed contact and shifted closer, grinding down, breathing obscenities into their shared air when she finally found the right angle. Hunger sank its claws deep, and Alex sated it with tooth and tongue, showing her approval in ways that made the Undergrounder's world tilt.
They hadn't completely disrobed — Lee still wearing the black slacks that fit her so perfectly and Alex in her underwear — but she didn't mind. It was better this way, Alex thought, the waistband rigid enough it supported her wrist when her hand slid south, cool fingers meeting slick arousal and heat. The angle was awkward but worth it.
YOU ARE READING
Journalist Alexandra Bailey never believed she'd become another tragic statistic ripe for the front pages. Abducted off the street. Beaten bloody. Left for dead in the unforgiving winter. The article wrote itself. And her crime? Not even she knew, b...