To my surprise and relief, we don't run into anyone on our way to the elevator. It's later than I thought, and everyone's gone. The ride down is overwhelmingly silent—but it's welcomed, for once. It allows me to run the pros and cons of going all the way with Lex. The cons are all work-related and rather obvious.
The pros are about the potentiality of getting the best dicking of my life and then being rid of my unwanted infatuation for him. Please, if there's some justice in this world, let him be incredible at this. I'm not compromising everything for mediocre sex.
As for the question of emotions and feelings, I'm not worried they'll be involved. People have meaningless sex all the time and keep on living. I'll do the same.
A wave of heat warms up my face when I enter his car. The memory of the last time I was in here floods me. I discreetly turn to him, wanting to see if the same thoughts are racing through his mind, but nothing transpires from his ever-neutral expression.
"Is someone going to be waiting for you?" he asks, turning the engine on.
Our eyes meet, and my heart skips a beat. Christ... I'm never going to get over tonight, am I?
"Yes," I eventually say, struggling to take out my phone. "My roommate will expect me."
Lex drives us out of the building as I send Tammy a quick text. Once we're out, he takes a few turns that confuse me. He isn't going south as I expected, but north.
"You don't live near my neighborhood," I state with a frown.
"No, I don't."
"You lied to me, then, when you insisted on driving me home. Twice."
"I never told you where I lived, just that I was good to drive you to your place," he points out, not looking away from the road.
Right, maybe that's how it happened. But I'm confident he deliberately led me to believe it wasn't too much of a detour for him. I don't feel like figuring out why, though, because the answer might be dangerous to know.
He decides to justify himself, anyway. "I kept you late the first time, so it was the least I could do. The second time, I wasn't leaving you to fend for yourself drunk."
"I wasn't drunk," I argue out of pride.
"You need to make up your mind, Andrea. Were you drunk or not when you kissed me?"
Five minutes into this, and I'm already wondering if going through with it is a good idea. "I was tipsy," I defensively argue.
My abrasive tone must tip him off because a few seconds later, he says, "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this social thing. I apologize if I was rude."
We're stopped at a red light, and he's studying me with interest, his expression one of concern. I know he isn't a people person, and the fact that he's acknowledging it and taking my feelings into consideration is meaningful.
"It's fine. I'm just very nervous," I say with honesty.
"You know you can change your mind anytime, right?"
He's uncharacteristically anxious, and it makes me let out a small laugh. I'm not the only hot mess. Good. His god-like facade is cracking, and that triggers some tenderness in me. Not holding back my impulse, I reach for his nape and pull him down, planting my lips on his. After a short but intense kiss, I move back, not wanting to take things too far.
Lex has other plans, and he pulls me back in. He takes my lips like he can't help it, demanding more, and I yield to his will, allowing him to sample me thoroughly. I can never get used to kissing this man. He's so fantastic at it, demanding and yet tender. His lips are insistent without being overbearing, and the repeated intrusion of his tongue in my mouth still allows me to have some control. I could kiss him for hours on end.
The car behind us honks, making me open my eyes. We're bathed in the greenish halo of the traffic light. Lex keeps devouring my lips, ignoring or unaware of the car behind us. I don't even try to stop him, enjoying our connection way too much to interrupt it. I'm closing my eyes back when we get another honk. This time, Lex growls, displeased. He moves away from me, his eyes locked on mine. After one last hungry peck on my mouth, he rips himself from me and drives.
About five minutes later, he pulls up in front of an underground garage at the foot of a tall building. Its wide door lifts, and Lex drives us in. The other cars parked there are as luxurious, if not more, as his, which indicates the high standards of this place.
Once the car's parked, we walk to the elevator, a lingering tension in my shoulders. I can't believe I'm doing this.
"Are you all right?" he asks while we wait for it to arrive.
"Yes. I just—I never do this. It feels strange."
"What? Have sex?"
"Casual sex," I correct him. At this point, though, I'm not used to sex either. Ten fucking months...
He smiles, and I understand he was teasing me. The doors open before us, and he puts his warm hand on my lower back, inviting me to get in. I move, and he follows, his hand still there. I'm disappointed when it leaves so he can push the button to the twenty-third floor—third before last. After a few seconds, the cabin closes, and the gentle pull of gravity makes my lower stomach tingle. Or maybe it's Lex's hand resting on my back again.
Clearly, my prolonged abstinence made me crave physical contact.
I'm in a weird mind blur all the way to his door, barely noticing the fancy corridor we walk through. When the heavily secured panel opens, he extends an arm to invite me in. I hesitate for about half a second, looking at the dark interior of the apartment. Am I really doing this? Sleep with Lex? I can still change my mind later on, but going inside is a big, fat, determining step.
One that I take with a deep breath. "Mary, I'm home," he calls as he follows me inside.
Who the fuck?! Does he have a girlfriend? Is he expecting a threesome or something? Does he have a secret daughter I don't know of?
Before I can ask anything, and humiliate myself with a chain of accusations, a feminine but undoubtedly electronic voice resonates in the apartment. "Welcome home, Alexander."
At the same time, the lights increase gradually, and the window shutters roll up without a sound, lighting up the space with the last rays of the Sun.
The entire room is vast but nor absurdly so, furnished, decorated, and laid out in tones of grays, from light to anthracite, with touches of light woods on the floor and a few of the pieces of furniture. We're in the living suite, with a large lounge room, a dining area, and an open kitchen.
The programmer in me is curious to know more about his live-in AI. "I never heard of a home AI named Mary. Where does she come from?"
"I programmed her," he says as if it's the simplest thing. "I don't trust the other AIs. You never know how much they are recording, and I like to keep my life private."
"So you went and built one from scratch?"
"What else was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Open your windows manually and use the switches for the lights?" I propose with humor. He lets out a loud breath, the closest thing to a laugh I have ever heard from him.
"But where's the challenge in that?"
I genuinely laugh, amused by the way he thinks. In his genius mind, building a whole AI isn't that far stretched. Searching for personal clues as to who he is, I look around the place. The room looks impersonal, like a magazine home. There isn't even a picture anywhere, just generic-looking art. That's disappointing.
The place is particularly masculine, and the lack of a woman's touch reminds me of something. "Do you have a woman in your life?"
His answer takes slightly too long to come. "I don't."
"What about the one from that pic when we first met in the elevator?"
"She was a convenient arrangement, nothing more. And she wasn't one anymore by the time she sent that picture."
"Really?"
"Relationships demand too much maintenance. That's why I don't get entangled with anyone."
Message received loud and clear. We're not getting entangled. This is just a convenient arrangement—one where he rearranges my insides, hopefully.
A pout is on my lips as I step in front of a painting. It's Pollock-inspired, with drops and splashes of paint. I'm not into modern art, but there is something fascinating about it. I don't know if it's the contrast of the colors, the slight relief of the drops, or the sheer size of the piece—much taller than me—but I adore it, for some reason.
I can feel his eyes following my stroll around his place, and it warms me from the inside out. The apartment is remarkably silent, giving me a sense of isolation. We're in downtown Seattle, close to rush hour, and I can't hear a single car. All this silence isn't helping with my nervousness. Some music would go a long way.
Feeling bold, I take a deep breath, not moving my eyes from the painting. "Mary, could you put on some music?"
I hear what almost sounds like a chuckle behind me. "Sorry, she only answers to my voice, Andrea. And I'm afraid I never programmed her for music."
He's close to me now, but I kept my back to him, resisting the urge to turn around and look at him.
"Are you telling me you don't listen to your funky playlist here?" I tease, remembering his unexpected tastes.
"I only listen to the funky playlist to prevent me from falling asleep while I drive for long hours."
Confused and disappointed, I spin around to face him. "So you don't actually like disco music?"
"I don't like music in general."
That's probably a red flag, but I couldn't care less when he's so close to me. I fight the urge to press my palms on his broad chest.
"Why would you let me believe it was your playlist, then?"
"You were having a blast. I didn't want to ruin your fun." Bending closer to me, he brings his mouth right next to my ear, his hand grazing my side from my hip to my ribs. "You have the most enticing laugh, Andrea."
His closeness, his baritone voice, and his touch are too much for me to handle. A wave of pure lust travels through my entire frame to end straight between my legs, where my clit pulsates with need. Right then and there, I cream my panties.
How does he keep doing that? Make me so weak and needy?
Perfectly aware of what he just did to me, he retreats with a smirk. "Would you like something to drink?"
Once more, the reality of what's about to happen falls on me. I'm here to seal the deal, to have sex with Lex. Should I call it...slex? Okay, now my nervousness is making my brain derail.
"I'd like that, yes, but could I use your bathroom first?" I ask, trying to seem nonchalant. I need to clean up because I'm not letting him near my chocha so long after my last shower.
He points to a hallway behind me. "Second door on the right."
Once I'm there, I stay with my back pressed on the door for a moment, still unsure of what's happening to me. The setting is far from romantic, but I don't want romance, anyway. I'm here to have sex with him, then leave.
I'll go all the way because I can, but more importantly because I want to.
Lex is in his kitchen when I'm back, and I take a second to enjoy his strong silhouette before joining him there. He is sipping on a glass of amber liquor, the glass bottle on the counter before him. Yes, good idea, liquid courage.
I drop my bag on the couch as I pass it and join Lex. His eyes scan me from head to toe as I approach, making my heart slam against my ribs. I take the glass he's holding, my eyes locked in his, and bring it up to my lips before taking down what is left in it with two gulps.
Whatever Lex is drinking isn't meant to be swallowed in one go but rather sipped, so an intense burning sensation spreads in my throat. The need to cough becomes almost irrepressible, but I fight it, swiftly turning around, so he doesn't notice my watery eyes. Idiot.
I pour another glass and twist toward him again. Lex is much closer now, and his position is trapping me between the kitchen counter and his broad body. This is very intimate, and the boldness of it suggests we're done with the pleasantries.
Shit, I need more amber courage for this. More reasonable this time, I only take a small sip before moving the beverage away from my mouth, lost in his steel grays the whole time. With a slow gesture, he takes the glass from my hand, brings it up, and twists it to lay his bottom lip where mine was. Gazing at me with intensity, he drinks it up and bends to put the empty glass on the counter behind me. I move back as he leans forward, our faces only a few inches apart.
I'm caged in by his domineering position, his hands resting flat on the marble top on each side of me. I'm hypnotized by him, captivated by his intense gaze that can probably see into my soul. My entire body is tingling, my heart is drumming, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol but everything to do with Lex.
I'm so close I can see spots of dark gray in his cold irises. It isn't fair that a man would be gifted with such lush and long eyelashes, but it's not wasted on him. His cheekbones are chiseled to perfection, giving his face an undeniable charisma. And his mouth... It's so full and tempting. Unexpectedly, his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, wetting them before retreating.
The message is loud and clear, even though he makes to move toward kissing me. Only now do I realize that he isn't pushing me to do anything. He's giving me control.
To test how far he's willing to let me be in charge, I move up, pushing myself on my toes, bringing my lips half an inch away from his. His warm breath mixes with mine, and I smell whiffs of the alcohol he drank. His pupils dilate, but he doesn't move. Aroused and playful, I move even closer until our mouths are almost touching, but not quite. I can sense the warmth of his lips but resist their tempting call. The tension, the desire, and the intensity of the moment almost make my head spin. My entire body is alert and ready.
At this very instant, I decide I'm not moving forward to get over the man or for Oliver's sake. I'm doing it for myself. I'm doing it because I might implode if I don't.
I finally press my lips against his, shivering from head to toe as I do. His reaction is immediate, one of his hands wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I gave the kickoff, and now the race for pleasure begins.
Our mouths open in unison, and our tongues dart out, greedy to sample more. We share the taste of whiskey and the taste of us. I'm almost vibrating with need, my body demanding what it craved for weeks. With my hands up, my fingers tangled in his dark hair, I pull him closer, wanting all of him.
When I move my foot to the side, he understands my intentions and obliges, slightly bending his knee so I have better access to his thigh and can straddle it. I shamelessly arch into the massive bump of his erection, and he pushes back, grabbing my ass to bring me even closer. The edge of the counter harshly digs into my skin, but I barely feel it, the entirety of my nerves focused on my front—on him.
To my great dissatisfaction, the intensity of our embrace becomes too much, so I rip my mouth away from him to take deep breaths, in desperate need of air. Lex's mouth drops to my neck to lay a fiery line of kisses, tasting my heated skin with his tongue and turning the blood flowing in my veins into searing lava.
The collar of my top comes in the way of his exploration, prompting his hands to remove it. In seconds, I'm in my bralette. Luckily, it isn't one of my boring cotton bras but a petty little garment made of blue lace. My nipples are visible through the sheer fabric, catching Lex's attention.
There isn't much there, from a large A cup to a small B cup, but the way Lex is looking at them, so full of desire, makes me forget about my insecurities. There's a hint of wonderment in his expression, as if he restlessly wanted to see me like this.
And that inflates my ego like never before. I'm not an awkward, nerdy girl anymore. I'm a woman good enough to tempt Alexander Coleman. Feeling bold, I pull my bralette up, pass it over my head, and throw it away.
Before it even reaches the floor, Lex has one of my mounds in his hand while hungrily lowering his head to the other. I moan when his mouth closes around my raised nipple. He bites, sucks, and pulls on my hard tip, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my clit. His hand mirrors the same torture on the other one, pinching and pulling. It's like he knows exactly which pressure to apply and how hard he can bite before pain overtakes pleasure. My intimacy is throbbing spasmodically, and I realize he can probably make me come like this, teasing my breast.
This is insane...
The only reason why he stops is to lift me with baffling ease and sit me on the counter, so I'm easier to access. Then, he steps in the cradle of my parted thighs to inflict the same treatment on my other breast, his erection right against my throbbing pussy. And because I'm so fucking greedy, I writhe and arch into it.
Before I can climb closer to the orgasm building inside me, he stops his teasing and moves back, robbing me of all stimulation. He ignores my protest to press his hand over my sternum instead, silently asking me to lie back.
The coldness of the marble bites into my heated skin, and his hands grab my ankle. With efficient moves, he loosens the ties of my black Chuck before pulling on it.
Oh, no...
If my bra was a lucky coincidence, my socks aren't. Mild amusement paints his traits when he reveals my Pacman socks, and he sends me a questioning look. Mortified, I gnaw on my lower lip and shrug my shoulders. Still smiling, he shakes his head as his fingers slide under my jeans to grab my sock. My other shoe knows the same fate, and then he moves to my jeans' button.
My clit throbs at his hands fidgeting so close to it. I need his fingers there. Now. I do my best to help him, and he manages to remove the few clothes I have left.
Sprawled for him to see, absolutely naked in the unforgiving light of his kitchen, I remain unmoving as he takes in the sight of my body. It feels kinky to be buck-naked when he's still wearing the entirety of his clothes.
Even if nothing in his heated gaze leads me to believe the view doesn't please him, I begin doubting myself. My arm wraps around my breasts while my hand shields the center of my femininity from his hawk-like gaze.
He doesn't like that and firmly pushes them away. "Andrea... You're so fucking wet for me," he says, his voice so rough it's almost a growl. He boldly slides two fingers along my folds, making me shiver when they graze my clit, and moves his hand up. "Look," he orders. His index and middle fingers are glistening with my arousal.
I blush but don't look away when we lock gazes. He's much bolder than I expected. The rigid and cerebral man I know is long gone, replaced by a lustful, enterprising, and absurdly sexual Lex.
As if to prove me right, he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste me with his pink tongue, eagerly sampling my wetness. An approving "Mmm" rolls in his throat while his eyes never leave mine. The sight is so hot that I whimper and attempt to press my knees together, my core throbbing with impatience yet again.
Before I have time to recover from the incredible vision, he hooks his hands under my knees and spreads me wide, only to look at my intimacy with earnestness.
"You want me so fucking much that you're dripping," he groans. That makes my walls clench, and he notices.
"Lex," I protest, attempting to bring my knees together and pushing myself on my elbows. My gaze compels his. There's a boldness inside me that I don't know I have when I say, "Are you going to do something about it, or will you just stare all night?"
His smile and chuckle would be panty-dropping if I weren't already pantiless. Then he lowers his face, and I brace myself. I'm about to see if his oral skills are as good as my dreams and fantasies imagined.
First, he plants a kiss on my inner thigh, and then another, closer from where I so desperately want him, then another... Finally, when he's out of thigh to explore, his eyes lock with mine. I wait, so motionless I'm not even breathing.
His tongue darts out before he settles it low on my center, where my fluids are gathered. I moan, the sight as erotic as the sensations themselves, and when he moves a little higher, the muscles of my inner thighs tense, my tendons straining against his grip.
He's purposefully ignoring my clit, but the burning fervor, the softness, the way he lazily explores me... It's all too sensational for me. Lex takes his time, cleaning me off of all the wetness he conjured. But it's a Sisyphean task, because every time his tongue grazes me, more of it seeps out of me.
I'm about to beg him when the tip of his tongue pushes past my slit. Fuck... This man is wicked... He thrusts it in and out, and it feels good—amazing, even—yet I can't help but want more. I want him to fill me, to stretch me, to ruin me.
Losing my patience, I lie back down to free my arms and weave my fingers into his thick hair to guide him. His hands release my legs to grab my wrists so he can pin them down on each side of my hips instead. I'm about to scold him when his mouth finally moves up and locks on my swollen crease. With all the built-up anticipation, intense shivers make my body jolt at the first flick.
My back arches, my legs spread further, and a whimpering cry escapes me. Relentlessly, he teases, sucks, and licks my clit, making me tremble and moan. My hips buckle and roll, my reactions uncontrollable. He immobilizes them between his forearms, his hands still holding my wrists. With each lick, I'm growing closer to my climax, and his pace is mercilessly fast.
"Aah, Lex! Don't stop! Don't—Oh, fuck..."
As I suspected, he's divine at this. I reach my orgasm fast, crying and panting, the sensations so intense that I convulse on his kitchen island, my whole body consumed by a pleasure too extreme to handle. My legs clench of their own will, imprisoning Lex's head. Waves after waves of felicity travel through my shaking frame as I endure my release.
He gives me no sympathy, his tongue sweeping intensely, trying to drag out my pleasure for as long as I can sustain it. One of his hands releases mine, and I quickly use my freedom to push him away with a whimper, confident I can't survive this for much longer. He resists my attempt to graze my entrance with his finger instead.
"Fuck... Lex, no! I need—Aah!"
I'm cut short when it pushes inside of me. My walls are still throbbing hectically, swollen and sensitive, and the simple intrusion of the digit is enough to render me mad. With his tongue still working its tireless magic, he fingers me expertly. My unyielding orgasm changes into something else, and soon enough, I'm bracing myself for another mind-blowing climax. Another finger slips in, gently stretching me, and as he pushes them in and out, a new series of spasms starts.
Between my moans and soft plaints, I can hear the rhythmic and wet sound of his ministrations on me. I can sense with accuracy everything he is doing to me, feel the stubble on his jaw against my delicate folds and thighs, enjoy the silkiness of his hair between my fingers... Everything that's happening is engraving itself into my mind, and I know for certain I'll remember it perfectly for decades to come.
His touch becomes lighter but faster, and it's all I need to reach bliss again. Just like before, my whole body shakes with involuntary contractions as I come crying out his name.
Shit, I hope the apartment is soundproof both ways.
This time, he doesn't push me further, and the momentum of his tongue and fingers slows. I'm about ready to thank him for showing me mercy when he slowly pulls away from me.
While I'm gradually regaining control of my mind and flesh, he lays pecks on my limp, heaving, and satiated body. He takes his time on each of my nipples and then comes to my mouth for the grand finale.
Gladly, I welcome his lips, where I can taste myself. There's also his own taste there, which I can't get enough of, so I hungrily seize his face between my hands to keep him in place. By the time he moves away, my breathing is almost normal again, and my heartbeat, even if it's still too fast, isn't as hectic as before.
He straightens up and uses his viewpoint to cover my frame with a lustful gaze. There's a thin layer of perspiration now veiling my skin, and I know my face and chest are flushed.
Lex looks at me like a predator observing his prey—his eyes piercing and hungry.
"Shall we begin?" he asks with a pinch of amusement in his voice.