“I trust you, Alec. I trust you not to hurt me, no matter how wild you feel. You’re not that person. Not anymore. Now do it. I want to feel you lose it. I want to feel it in your fingertips when you come. All for me. Just for me.”

I pump my h*ps against his, clawing at the backs of his hands. There’s a moment of hesitation just before his baser instincts take over. And I feel his fingers tighten.

At first, it’s tentative, but as he thrusts more deeply into me, they become more confident. And they tighten more.

I feel other fingers grip me. Fingers of fear. I’m no longer certain of what I’ve done, that trusting Alec, that baiting him in this way was wise. It was impulsive and desperate.

And it might cost us both.

As breathing becomes more difficult, I stretch my chin toward the head of the bed, an attempt to relieve some of the pressure to my throat. I’m teetering between the intense pleasure of Alec’s body within mine and the sheer terror of what I might’ve asked him to do.

I look back at Alec and see his eyes close. He increases his tempo, and so my fear. I wrap my fingers around his wrist, ready to pull at them if he really loses it.

I hear his cry.

It’s scary and thrilling. And then I feel him stiffen. His fingers squeeze at my throat, stealing my breath for a moment before he opens his eyes and he looks straight into mine.

I see him let go. And I see him let it go. There’s nothing between us in this moment except scorching heat and love. As long as Alec lives, he may deny it to himself, but I will always know. I will always have these few seconds, this look in his eyes, this stillness of his body, forever. It’s mine. And nothing can ever take it away.

I feel the moment his senses begin to return. His fingers relax and he withdraws and thrusts into me again, grinding his h*ps as he goes, pushing me toward a pinnacle I thought fear would keep me from.

He showers my face with kisses and thrusts again, and again, his body still hard within mine, his come still filling me up inside. And I lose it.

Alec cups my face and watches me as I tip over the edge. From start to finish, his eyes never leave mine while I orgasm. Intense wave after intense wave, he continues to stare into my eyes, sharing with me his body, his soul and his heart.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX - Alec

Samantha and I are lying together, catching our breath, when I begin to feel pressure to say something. The problem is that I don’t know what to say. I feel like I should say something, like I should have something to say. But I don’t.

With every passing minute, she becomes more anxious. I can feel it in the way she’s stiffening beneath me.

Expectation is a bitch!

I roll off her and shoot a lopsided smile her way, hoping it will put her mind at ease. “I guess we’d better get out of here. This isn’t exactly the best place to snuggle.”

Her smile is a bit forced, confirming what I already knew. I give her my hand and pull her into a sitting position. My eyes rove her bared breasts. She looks down at herself.

“Well,” she begins, glancing up at my open shirt. “I would say you’re in better shape than I am, but I’m not so sure.”

I laugh as I take in my own buttonless shirt. “Eh, we’ll figure out something,” I say casually before leaning over to nip her shoulder with my teeth. “We might draw a few eyes, but damn, it was worth it.”

I stand to my feet and straighten my tie, doing my best to tuck in my shirt in such a way that it will stay closed. That’s harder than it might sound.

Samantha seems less bothered now. Maybe it was just my imagination.

She stands and pulls the two halves of her dress together. There’s no way she can make that work. She looks up at me and we both laugh.

“You don’t do that enough,” she says as she lets the dress fall from her shoulders and puts it back on backward.

“Do what?”

“Laugh.”

I shrug. “I don’t usually have much to laugh about.”

“That’s a tragedy, you know.”

I shrug again, but make no further comment.

I pat my tie into place, right down the center of my chest. It will be fine to conceal my state of dishabille until I can get to the car. Then it won’t matter.

I glance up to see Samantha staring down at herself. Seeing the high neck of the back of her dress at her throat looks a bit odd, but she could pull it off for the short trip downstairs. That is, until she turns around. Her entire ass is hanging out. She grins at me from over her shoulder and it makes me want to throw her on the bed, let that dress fall apart and pound into her from behind.

“I’m thinking I might be in trouble,” she confesses playfully.

I walk to grab my coat from the floor where I tossed it. “Here,” I say, holding the suit jacket open so she can slip her arms into it. It’s long enough on her to come almost to her knees, plenty to cover her bare back side. “Better?”

“Much.”

I walk to the door and open it, sweeping my arm gallantly in front of me. “After you, m’lady.”

She smiles and precedes me out the door. I’m hoping if I keep things light…well, I can keep things light. I don’t do heavy. I just…don’t.

After we successfully (and tactfully) navigate the lower level, I walk Samantha to her car. I bend her over the hood and kiss her like we’re not in public, in hopes it will allay her fears or satisfy her expectations until I can figure out what the hell I’m doing.

“Call you tomorrow?” I say when I release her.

She nods and smiles, but I can tell it’s not what she was hoping for. I kiss the back of her hand and open her door for her, waiting for her to start the engine before heading to my own ride. I feel like I narrowly escaped…something dreadful. But I didn’t. Not really. I’ve simply delayed it until the tomorrow. I’ll have to deal with it sooner or later. I’m just opting for the “later.”

A little more than twenty minutes later, I’m unlocking my front door and stepping into the foyer. My intentions are to change clothes, make myself a drink and sit in front of the fireplace and forget the world. Just enjoy the amazing feeling of the night.

Without all its complications.

I’m putting ice cubes into a glass when I hear a knock at the door. Considering the time of night and the fact that I don’t often receive visitors, it’s not hard to figure out who it is.

I walk to the door and swing it open. As I suspected, Samantha is on the other side, still in her tattered dress covered by my coat.

“Can I come in?”

I nod and step back, closing the door behind her then making my way back to the wet bar. Rather than the one finger I had intended, I pour two fingers of scotch instead. It’s gonna be a long night.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask before I head for the sofa.

“No, thanks,” she says primly. “I just wanted to return your jacket.”

We both know that’s not why she’s here. And if we’re going to do this tonight, I might as well start where I want. I sink down on one cushion and take a long sip of my drink before I speak.

“Why did you do it?” I ask bluntly.

I can tell the question takes her by surprise. And I can see how. From the moment it began plaguing my mind like a hungry buzzard circling overhead, it’s made me feel out of sorts, too.

“For the same reason you did it for her when she asked.”

I feel the frown contract the muscles of my forehead. I don’t need to ask who “she” is. “I did it because she asked me to.”

“Yes, but you also did it because you loved her. That’s what we do for the people we love—we do things that will make them happy or make them feel good. Or help them.”

I stand, already uncomfortable with where this conversation is going. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it sound like I was some sort of paragon for strangling my girlfriend. I’m not that guy, Samantha. I warned you of that.”

“I know you did,” she says, standing to her feet as well. Slowly, she walks toward me. “But I’m in this because I want to be. I knew the risk. And I still do. I realize there’s a significant possibility that you might never be able to admit your feelings for me, that you feel somehow unworthy of loving and being loved, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love me.”

“Samantha, I—”

“I’m not asking you to say it, Alec,” she interrupts, laying her hand on my chest and staring boldly into my eyes. “I just want you to know how I feel. And that I understand. I understand how this could’ve made you feel like a monster, how it could’ve gotten so out of control.”

“I don’t deserve this, Samantha,” I say, grabbing her hand and curling my fingers around it. “I don’t deserve a woman like you.” I take her hand off my chest and release it before I step back, away from her. Away from what she makes me feel. She steps forward, though, closing the distance I created.

“I know your instinct is to run. To hide from it. Believe me, I know. But Alec, you are worthy of love. And trust. I trusted you even when you didn’t trust yourself and it paid off. You didn’t hurt me. You couldn’t. Because you love me. I know you do. I saw it. I saw it in your eyes back at the club.”

I can’t decide if she’s just that perceptive or if I was simply that transparent. Either way she’s right.

I cup her face in my hands. “No, you’re right. You did see it. I am capable of feeling love, but not the kind you deserve. I’m not the kind of man you deserve. I’m broken, Samantha. I can never be what you need me to be. But I do love you. Whatever that means for me, I do love you. I feel it, but that doesn’t mean it will be enough for you.”

Her eyes are shining as if all she heard was me confess that I love her, not all the other parts that should drive her away.

“You love me,” she whispers, her voice wavering. “That’s all that matters. We can figure out the rest. Alec, I was broken when we met. And you healed me. I was stuck in the past, just like you were, but you set me free. Can’t you see that now you’re free, too? Can’t you see that you’re not a monster? That what happened was an accident, nothing more?”

“No. I see that I hurt the people I love. I let them down. I disappoint them. I betray their trust. That’s what I see.”

“Alec, you can’t stop me from trusting you. And you can’t stop me from making you whole again. Because I will. I owe us that. We both deserve it.”

I know with a certainty I’ve never done anything to deserve someone like Samantha. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. But listening to her makes it seem like we might just have a shot. If only I can keep from hurting her…

“I can’t make you any promises.”

“I’m not asking for any. All I want is for you to try, to give me a chance. I’ll show you that it can work. That we can work. Alec, you’re perfect for me. And I’m perfect for you.”

I sigh, suddenly lacking the will to fight her and what I feel for her. “No, you’re just perfect. Period.”

She smiles. “We both know that’s not true, but I love you for saying it.”

“It’s true to me. And that’s all that matters.”

Samantha loops her arms around my neck. “See you’re getting the hang of this already. With daily repetition, even more if you can manage it, this will be like second nature to you.”

I let my hand slide down over the rounded curve of her ass. “I like the idea of repetition. Maybe we should apply that to…other things.”

“What did you have in mind?” she asks softly, tilting her h*ps and swaying them against mine.

“My housekeeper left me a jar of local honey that I’ve been dying to try.” When her eyes light up, I know I don’t need to add that I’ll be enjoying it from various surfaces of her body.

“I love honey.”

“As do I. Especially the sweet South Carolina kind.”

My mouth waters with the anticipation of tasting the sweet things that Samantha has to offer. When I bend my lips to take hers, dipping my tongue into her mouth, I can’t help but notice a difference in the kiss. It feels deeper, more intimate.

Significant.

Maybe the biggest difference of all is that it feels… free. Finally, I feel free.

EPILOGUE PART ONE - Alec

I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake by involving Chris. She does have a big mouth. And she does love Samantha above all else. But that’s also why I’m going to her. I figure, if anything, she’ll keep my secret because she’ll know how happy it will make her sister in the end.

And it will.

I know it.

I see her the instant the maître‘d ushers her onto the sunny patio. An enormous piece of coconut cake is already sitting in front of the chair she’ll occupy. Samantha loves coconut and I was thinking this could be our wedding cake. Chris will be the deciding vote.

Or is the bride supposed to take care of all that?

I don’t know. And I don’t really care. I believe this will make Samantha happy, and that’s all I need to know. Traditions be damned.

Chris is wearing her hair up. That’s all I notice beyond the huge smile. She’s a pretty girl, but no one turns my head anymore. Not really. I notice them, maybe even appreciate their features, but there’s only one woman for me. It just took me a while to realize it.

“What, pray tell, is all this secret meeting stuff about?”

Like she doesn’t already know! That smile says it all.

I eye her dubiously. “I’m quite sure you’re smart enough to figure that out.”