Unforgivable Read online

  Alice to Mick

  I am drunk on the memory of your touch.

  The taste and smell of your skin. The feeling of your breath on my face and your arms going around me, pulling me closer, and how you let your mouth drift along my cheek to kiss the corners of my eyes, because you said you like the lines there.

  You said I was beautiful, and it made me want to cry. Not because I didn’t believe you meant it, but because I did. There in that moment, I was as lovely as I might ever be.

  I needed to leave, but could not make myself go. Stay, you asked me. A half hour more.

  And I did.

  —Alice to Mick

  Chapter 7

  Alice didn’t make a big deal about heading back to the house. She waited fifteen minutes, giving Mick plenty of time to get there and everyone else the chance to pretend they weren’t noticing that she was also leaving. It wasn’t that she cared, exactly, if any of them thought she and Mick were hooking up. She just didn’t want to have to talk about it.

  Why she’d followed him was a question she couldn’t quite answer. Last night’s adventure on the swing had seemed inevitable at the time, after the kiss in the hallway. After the hours of lingering looks and casual touches. When had she ever been able to resist him? Even when she’d hated him, Alice had been unable to stop herself from wanting him. And she hadn’t actively hated Mick for a long time.

  She didn’t hate him now, neither.

  What she felt for him couldn’t be described. Lust, of course. Longing. She’d been unable to stop thinking about kissing him. Touching. She’d worried the thoughts of fucking him the way she was prone to probe and fuss with a snagged nail or the rough edge of a tooth . . . poking something that should be smoothed away and forgotten.

  She shouldn’t have kissed him. Definitely should not have touched him. Yet here she was again, on a path to self-destruction that confused and exhilarated her. She could tell herself all she wanted that it had been a one-time thing, a mistake made from a little too much wine and a little too much time.

  Yet here she was again, letting herself in through the sliding glass door to the basement, pausing to slip off her flip-flops. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, blinking so her eyes could adjust to the dimness inside. She could just go upstairs, she told herself. Take a shower in the bathroom she and Dayna were sharing. Slip into her own bed and fall into a nap. She didn’t have to do this.

  Except, oh, how she wanted to.

  She didn’t knock. He hadn’t locked the door, and she slipped into the dark room, her bare toes making only a whisper on the hardwood floor. The blinds on the single window had been drawn so only the tiniest crack of light shone through, but after a minute or so she was able to see well enough. The basement room was outfitted with a double bed, dresser, and overstuffed recliner, with a small flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and she took all of this in before letting her gaze settle at last on the bed. The shape beneath the covers.

  He breathed softly, in and out. Sleeping, she thought with some relief. She hadn’t woken him. She could still back out. Save herself.

  But of course, Alice didn’t. For better or worse, they’d both jumped on this train last night, and she was still riding it. She moved toward the bed, careful not to make a sound. She didn’t want to startle him awake. Instead, she gently drew back the covers to reveal inch after inch of his naked flesh, her throat closing at the sight. When she’d pulled the covers low enough to catch a glimpse of the hair low on his belly, her hands started to shake. She had to pause.

  “Alice.”

  The sound of her name sent a whirl of emotions through her, so fierce she had to close her eyes against them. Mick’s hand circled her wrist, keeping her hand from tugging the blankets any lower. She waited for him to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. Maybe even to tell her to get out.

  He pulled her closer, instead. Eyes still closed, hands still shaking, Alice slid into the bed next to him. They were entwined in a moment. His mouth on hers. His hands diving into her hair, tugging it out of the elastic so that it tumbled down all around them. She gasped at the press of his tongue in her mouth, and Mick drew the breath out of her.

  When his lips left hers to move along her jaw, his teeth nibbling, Alice arched into that caress. She said his name. His fingers twitched, pulling her hair, tipping her head back so he could get to her throat. The press of his teeth there left her shivering, nipples tight. Her pussy throbbed, the sleek fabric of her bathing suit rubbing her clit until she squirmed.

  Mick shifted, sliding his thigh between hers, then moving on top of her so that the thickness of his hard cock pressed against her. In the darkness she could only glimpse the barest hint of his features, but she didn’t need to see his expression to imagine the heavy-lidded look of his desire. She could hear it in his groan. Feel it in the nip of his teeth on her throat, then the soft swipe of his tongue in the same spot. In the way he moved against her, his cock rubbing, rubbing like magic on her swollen clit as though the thin material of her bikini bottom existed only to create just . . . that . . . much . . . more . . . pleasure.

  They rocked together. Moving in time. Over and over, Mick rolled his hips to slide his erection along her. Alice cried out, low, when his mouth moved lower to take her nipple between his lips. Sucking hard, then biting through the cloth. She wanted him to strip her naked and fuck her, but that would mean he’d have to stop what he was doing now, and the thought of that was unbearable.

  “Oh, fuck, Alice, you feel so good.” He kissed her, hard and bruising, and she didn’t mind the pain.

  “Harder,” she whispered.

  He moved. Faster. Harder. Her top came undone, and he buried his face between her breasts as one hand went beneath her ass to tip her closer against him.

  So close. So. Fucking. Close.

  She was coming, then, every nerve exploding in the pleasure of him hitting her just right, over and over. Her nails raked his back. Mick groaned and shook. In the next moment, his heat splattered on her belly and breasts; the sensation of it sent her over into another round of climax that left her spent and shuddering.

  Mick propped himself on his hands, thrusting a last few times, this time in the slickness on her bare belly. His cock, so thick and hard and hot, fit perfectly against her, and she slipped a hand between them to cup him for a moment as he collapsed on her.

  In the silence that followed, he nuzzled her neck. Then he rolled off her. Beneath her still-cupped palm, Alice felt the sticky sweetness he’d left behind, but she could not rouse herself to move.

  She didn’t have to. Without a word Mick got out of bed and went into the bathroom. The water ran in the sink. In another minute he was back with a warm wet cloth that he used to swipe along her skin. Carefully cleaning her up, then running his hands over her body to make sure he’d done the job right.

  Mick’s hand fit between her legs, the heel of it pressing her still swollen clit. “I think I made a mess of your bathing suit.”

  She rolled to face him, pushing a leg between his and fitting her face to the hollow of his neck and shoulder. “It can be washed.”

  Mick pulled the covers up over both of them, then settled back against her. His hand stroked her hair, over and over. He kissed the top of her head. She was going to fall asleep here, and that would be awkward.

  “The others will be back soon,” Mick said in a low voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “We should get up. Shower or something. Maybe open a couple bottles of wine for dinner.”

  She tilted her head to look up at him, though she still could see nothing more than shadows. “You don’t want them to know.”

  “Do you?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t care. No,” she said again. “It might make them feel weird, you know?”

  “To see us back together?”

  She propped herself up on her elbow at that. She’d had no trouble picturing him before, but was unable to imagine his expression now. �€