Unforgivable Read online

  But he’d never turn down that view, either.

  “So fucking gorgeous,” he breathed as she cupped her breasts and thumbed her nipples even harder. “Take it off.”

  The soft, shivery sigh sent an answering shudder through him. His jeans were getting tight, and he rubbed at the bulge as she gave him what he asked for. Last night, he’d tongued her nipples while she writhed and gasped, until she’d begged him to use his mouth between her legs.

  “I love your tits,” Mick said.

  Alice’s laugh skipped and cracked. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  He loved that about her, and always had. Other women might balk at the use of “bad” language, but not his Alice. She might look like an ice princess, but she was all flames and fire.

  “I want to watch you touch yourself for me,” Mick said.

  Alice grinned. “Are you going to give me the same thing?”

  He was already taking the laptop into the living room, where he could sprawl on the couch and unbutton his jeans. Mere hours ago they’d been fucking like rabbits on Viagra, but it didn’t matter. He wanted her as soon as he saw her. He would never get enough.

  It didn’t take long—they’d spent so much time on video chat they had their virtual lovemaking down to a science. He was coming all over his fist in a few minutes to the sight of her getting off, too. She’d cried out his name at the end, the surefire way to tip him over.

  Breathing hard, Alice brought the table close to her lips so all he could see was her smiling mouth. “You make me so fucking crazy. You know that? Crazy insane.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Mick leaned to grab some tissues from the box on the coffee table.

  “I guess so. If you like being crazy,” Alice said slowly.

  He looked at her. “You look tired.”

  “I am.”

  “Go to sleep,” he told her.

  “Mick,” she said. “I like you so much.”

  He winked at her. “That’s because you’re crazy.”

  Her smile faded, her expression going a little blank. “Yeah. I guess I am. Okay, I’m exhausted. I’m going to sleep. Night.”

  “Hey, Alice,” Mick said before she could disconnect.

  Alice sat back. “Hmmm?”

  “I bought you a new faucet.”

  She looked confused. “For what?”

  “The one in the kitchen is leaking. I can replace it for you.” Mick leaned a little closer to the computer screen.

  Alice blinked. “Sure. Okay. That would be great.”

  “And I was thinking, next weekend, I could take your car to get the tires rotated.” Surely that, he thought, would let her know what he felt.

  “Sure . . . if you want to.” She gave him a curious look. “Anything else?”

  “Do you need anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No. I guess I don’t.”

  “‘Night, Alice,” he told her, and then the screen went dark.

  Mick to Alice

  I fixed your faucet.

  —Mick to Alice

  Chapter 42

  Long summer days led to dark summer nights. If she had to pick a favorite season, Alice would’ve chosen autumn, after the summer’s heat had faded and before winter’s frigid snows. Sweater weather, that’s what Alice liked, but today was more like “strip yourself down to skin and then to bone, if you can” kind of weather.

  It reminded her of the summer she and Mick had met. Scorching in more ways than one. The blazing temperatures that had peaked at noon dropped so slowly after that it had made little difference. It was like being baked in a pizza oven, waves of rolling, shimmering heat making the cars in the parking lot shimmer. In the five minutes it took to get her from her car to the door of the restaurant, Alice thought she might pass out.

  Inside the restaurant she went to the hostess stand to see if Mick had already arrived. He hadn’t, of course, which gave her mouth a sour twist. Irrational to be annoyed and she knew it, because he’d likely been stuck in traffic, which was always worse coming from his direction this time of day. Still, when fifteen minutes passed while she waited on a sticky vinyl seat with sweat dripping down her spine, it got harder and harder not to let it get to her. She fanned her face with a takeout menu, which did little good, and considered going to sit at the bar so she could at least get a glass of ice water before she melted.

  He was always late.

  Always.

  “Last-minute Mick,” she wanted to call him. Typically, she hadn’t been able to pin him down to any specific plans for the weekend, though she’d asked him three times what he might want to do. This morning he’d called her unexpectedly after she’d already arrived at work. He’d asked her to meet him tonight for dinner, on a Tuesday, and it was such a rare occasion that she’d jumped at the chance even though it meant rearranging the plans she’d made to run some errands.

  One of these days she was going to tell him no. Let him suffer. Except she knew she probably never would, because even though it made her crazy not to know what was going on, she’d never yet been able to pass up the opportunity to be with him, no matter how inconvenient or last minute.

  Finally, he was there, pulling off his sunglasses as he came through the front doors and finding her at once. Grinning, he came to kiss her. “You’re early.”

  Alice bit her tongue and kissed him instead of snapping at him. Too hot, too hungry. She was on her way to Crankytown on the Raging Bitch Express, and she knew it. “I’m not.”

  “You look great. Nice dress,” Mick said as though he knew he needed to mollify her.

  Or maybe, Alice told herself once they’d been seated at last, he really liked her dress. With a drink and a breadstick in her belly and more food on the way, her annoyance was rapidly fading, thank God. She didn’t want to ruin the night by fighting. Not even if it meant being able to make up.

  “What’s that smile for?” Mick asked.

  Alice touched her mouth for a second, unaware she’d been smiling. “Nothing. Just glad to be here with you.”

  “I was thinking, you want to go to the batting cages after this? Go-karts?” Mick dipped his breadstick into the small pool of olive oil he’d poured onto his bread plate and swirled it around before biting off the end of it.

  Alice laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Well . . . yeah.” Mick paused, brow furrowed. He licked the oil from his lips, a gesture that normally would have snagged her gaze, but only made her wish he’d used a napkin now. “You don’t like that?”

  “I do like it. I love go-karts and I suck at batting, but I like it, sure. It’s just that I’m totally not dressed for it tonight. And it’s like, a million degrees outside.”

  “What’s wrong with what you have on?” Mick looked perplexed, though he’d eyed her outfit up and down earlier and even said he’d liked it, so Alice couldn’t begin to think why on earth he’d be confused. She drank to keep herself from making a snarky comment. Mick sat back in his seat. “Don’t you have anything to change into?”

  It was Alice’s turn to look perplexed. “Not for go-karts. I have my gym bag, but I’m not wearing dirty shorts and a T-shirt out in public.”

  “Oh. Well. That sucks.” Mick frowned. “Too bad. I thought it would be fun.”

  “It would have been fun. I wish I’d known sooner. Say, maybe this morning before I left for work, or last night, even better. Then I could’ve been prepared.” Alice frowned, too.

  Mick’s mouth thinned further. “How was I supposed to know?”

  “I don’t know, Mick,” she said snidely, “maybe you could’ve planned it?”

  Fortunately, the server arrived with their food, preventing Alice from going into full-bore bitch mode. She cut into her steak with vehemence, though, stabbing a little too hard. She looked up to see Mick glaring.

  “If you have something to say to me,” he told her, “I wish you’d just say it instead of simmering about it.”

  Alice took a long, deep breath