Holiday Hire (The Cartwright Family #2)

Chapter 16

16

Phoebe

G iddiness rolls through me. I giggle, then press my lips against his, offering, "If that's what you want."

He grunts, kisses me, then retreats, asking, "Is it fair to say I've changed your mind about getting your pussy licked?"

Another wave of heat burns my cheeks. I've only had a few lovers. Not once did I enjoy them going down on me. It always felt awkward, and I always wanted it to be over.

"Phoebe?" he questions, dragging his fingers over my ass.

I lock eyes with him, admitting, "I like it with you."

Approval fills his expression. He flips me onto my back.

I shriek, laughing.

He shimmies out of his jeans, then cages his body over me. He kisses me with a new intensity but suddenly stops, pulling his head back and studying me.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" I ask.

His hand slides over my thigh tattoo. He furrows his eyebrows and asks, "Are you a runner? I haven't seen you go for any jogs or anything."

Amused, I answer, "Nope!"

Confusion washes over his features. "Then why does your tattoo say 'Marathon'?"

My amusement fades. Emotions swell in my chest. I confess, "It's to remind me that life's a marathon and not to give up."

Worry replaces his confusion.

I quickly add, "I did it after my mom went into a mental home. She tried to hurt herself. I just thought..." I swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath. "I didn't know if I would ever feel that hopeless. So, I thought my tattoo could serve as a reminder that sometimes you have to remember that life is a marathon and there are good and bad parts. Then, if I ever felt like my mom did, I could look at it and not give up." I blink hard, wishing what my mom tried to do wouldn't hurt so badly.

Sympathy fills Alexander's blues. He strokes my cheek and gently says, "I'm sorry about your mom."

I nod, choking up. Tears form in my eyes, and I try to push them away.

He sweetly kisses me, then shoots me a stern look.

I nervously ask, "What's wrong?"

His lips twitch. "Nothing. I was just thinking about how you have better tattoo decision-making skills than me."

I burst out laughing, and my tears fall down my cheeks.

He chuckles with me and swipes them away.

When we calm, I tug his face toward me and slide my tongue against his. He moves his mouth to my neck, and I blurt out, "I think your tattoo's hot."

He arches his eyebrows.

My cheeks heat again.

He arrogantly grins, leans into my ear, and murmurs, "Guess you'll have to tell me if I overstated my skills or if I'm worthy of it." He flicks his tongue over my lobe and glides his erection over my clit.

A loud whimper rolls out of me. I'm still sensitive from all the attention he gave me, and a new ache spurs to life.

He chuckles and puts his forearms next to my head. More cockiness flashes across his face, and butterflies attack my belly. His hot breath merges with mine. He continues teasing me, gliding slowly, then speeding up.

Adrenaline creeps into my cells. I close my eyes.

"Look at me, Pheebs," he demands, and returns to a slower pace.

I obey, my chest rising and falling faster. My lips tremble. Uncontrollable moans fly out of me, and I can't take my gaze off his until a slow wave of endorphins turns into a violent act, hitting me with an intense high that makes my eyes roll.

"There you go, baby girl," he praises, as if I've accomplished something at the magnitude of a historical level.

My fingertips dig into his shoulders. He doesn't let up, keeping me dizzy. I slide my fingers over his head and pull him toward me, meeting his tongue with desperate need.

"You're beautiful when you come," he mumbles against my lips.

I clasp my arms tighter around him, rolling my tongue deeper against his, inhaling the aphrodisiac of his scent.

He retreats from our kisses, puts both hands on my cheeks, and shifts his hips back. He pins his heated blues back on mine and slowly slides all the way inside me.

"Oh!" I cry out, catching my breath and seeing stars.

He groans, then slowly thrusts in and out, mumbling, "What are you doing to me, Pheebs?"

I shift my hips, effortlessly falling into rhythm with him, barely getting out, "Alexander..."

He strokes my cheek, then lowers his face, submerging me in an onslaught of passion I didn't know could exist.

I grip his ass cheek with one hand and his hair with my other, pushing him back toward me every time he thrusts away.

"Greedy girl, squeezing that pussy all over my stallion," he teases against my lips, then grabs my hand off his ass and pins it above my head. He taunts me further, sliding in and out even slower.

Tingles race down my spine, erupting in flames at my core. "Oh...my...oh..."

Alexander's gaze doesn't waver. He keeps his full attention on me, as if he's concentrating on something important. He thrusts several more times. The approval in his eyes grows with every uncontrollable sound that flies out of my mouth.

I lean up and flick my tongue over his lips. He purses them, not allowing me to kiss him.

He increases his pace and returns to studying me, stating in a low voice, "You're beautiful, Pheebs."

My heart soars. No one's ever made me feel so special or wanted. I don't recall ever enjoying sex like this either. I try to catch my breath, but I can't. A new orgasm rips through me, and my eyes roll back in my head.

Alexander grunts. "That's it, baby girl. Give your stallion everything you have."

"I am," I claim, my back arching, pushing me closer to him.

He groans, thrusting deeper.

I quiver harder, moaning louder. I try to reach for something, but he still has my wrist pinned.

He slides his fingers between mine. I squeeze hard, digging my nails into the back of his hand. He finally lowers his lips to mine.

Our kisses turn sloppy, our tongues frantic, our eyes locked on one another's in a trance. Every thrust he makes, I meet with more enthusiasm, desperate for every inch of his body.

Sweat erupts on our skin, merging together. The air turns thick with the scent of our arousal. The twinkling orange Thanksgiving lights and the radiant moon shine through the window, creating a soft glow around us.

"Alexander!" I cry out, a wave of heat and endorphins hitting me so hard I almost black out.

"Shh, let go. Your stallion has you," he murmurs in my ear, gripping my hip. He thrusts faster, moving me since I can't do anything besides shake and moan with vigorous euphoria.

My high recedes, only to begin again. He releases my hand and pushes my thigh higher, somehow thrusting even deeper into me.

My voice turns hoarse, and broken sounds crackle through the air. My eyelids flutter over and over, with flames burning into my soul.

His groans intensify. His cock hardens further, stretching my walls and creating a frenzy within me. He lowers his mouth to my shoulder, his teeth pressing into my skin. A deep groan vibrates against me. His body violently convulses, and his cock pumps hard, spewing his hot cum inside me.

My adrenaline spikes to a new high. I dig my nails into his shoulders and cry out, my body trembling against his with no mercy.

His orgasm seems to last forever as he continues to fill me. The air between us thickens, and his tongue returns to mine.

As our bodies slow from the exertion, so do our kisses. He finally rolls onto his back, cradling me in his arms, kissing the top of my head, and stroking my spine.

We both try to catch our breath, the scent of our arousal flaring around us. A while passes before his beating heart slows to a normal pace.

He slides his palm over my ass, holding me close, and caresses the top of it with his thumb. He asks, "Should we get under the covers?"

I tease, "This isn't where you kick me out?"

"Kick you out?" he says with a mix of confusion and disdain in his tone.

I look up. "It was a joke."

"Oh."

"Sorry."

He kisses me on the forehead. "Bad joke." He pats my ass and says, "Let me get the covers sorted." He slides off the bed, then pulls them down as I lift my ass off the mattress. He tucks them around one side of me, then slides under them. He leans on his shoulder and pulls me into him.

I gasp, teasing, "Alexander Cartwright, are you a spooner?"

He slides his palm over my thigh and kisses the back of my ear. His lips tickle my skin as he says, "Only with the right woman."

My butterflies reignite. I turn my head, smirking. "So you do kick some women out of your bed?"

He grunts. "No, but I also don't bring women home and into my kids' space."

My pulse picks up again. I blurt out, "So the stallion is celibate?"

He chuckles so hard he swipes at his eyes. When his laughter fades, he says, "I'm never living this tattoo down."

"Nope," I agree.

He murmurs in my ear, "But you don't have any complaints, right?"

Heat rushes to my cheeks. It's silly to feel shy after all we just did, yet I do. I thought I knew what good sex was, but now I realize I was clueless.

Sounding vulnerable, he asks, "Do I need to try harder?"

I kiss him on the lips and shake my head. "No. I have zero complaints."

He grins. "Good. We'll see if you feel the same way tomorrow morning."

I bite on my smile, the fire blazing hotter on my face.

He grunts and pecks me on the lips. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"Am I?"

"Yeah." He tugs me closer and lays his head on the pillow next to mine. "I think I'm going to sleep well tonight."

"Me too," I agree, and sink farther into him.

"I had a lot of fun tonight. Thanks for letting me take you out."

My heart soars. I confess, "I had the best night ever."

"You did?"

"Yep!"

He kisses my shoulder. It's tender from his teeth, but it's a sweet ache. He says, "Good. Me too."

His statement makes me happy.

Silence fills the air for a few moments.

He sleepily asks, "What do you plan on doing with your winnings?"

Guilt hits me again. "I'm going to give you the cash back."

He grunts. "Like hell you are. A bet is a bet. Besides, I'm not a man who can't handle losing, even if I prefer to win."

"It doesn't seem right."

"I'm telling you there's no way I'm keeping your money. Now, what do you want to do with it?"

I ponder his question, but nothing comes to mind. I admit, "I have zero clue."

"Try to do something fun with it. Don't do something responsible."

"Why not?"

He slides his thumb on my shoulder, declaring, "Gambling winnings are for fun. If you use them to pay your bills, you shouldn't be risking your money. That's how you know you have a problem."

"Well, it wasn't my money," I point out.

"True, but it's still winnings. Do something fun with it. Be young and carefree. Tell me when you decide what you're spending it on," he orders.

I laugh. "Okay. I'll let you know."

"Good." He kisses my cheek and then relaxes his head on the pillow. "Sleep well, baby girl."

"Night," I reply, feeling safe, content, and borderline giddy with joy. I close my eyes and fall asleep within seconds, melting into Alexander's arms.