Scandalized

by Ivy Owens

His lips offer silent encouragement as he nods, nostrils flared. This is mine, I think. For tonight at least, you’re mine.

I want to scream into the Seattle night sky how good this is, how it feels to have his hands come around me, one cupping my throat and the other between my legs, patiently coaxing another orgasm free.

Chapter 3 is just 🌶️🌶️😮‍💨😮‍💨🔥🔥🔥

“I’m really happy to be here with you. Exactly how it was last night. Whatever happens after this, I want you to promise to remember that. Okay?” Even a cold brick would realize that Alec Kim is saying something without saying it, but it’s so carefully veiled I don’t know how to probe deeper.

He’s next-level hot, yes, but who is he? Did I miss something really important?

“I liked that I could just be a man with you,” he says. “That I didn’t have to live up to some expectation and that you weren’t nervous with me. I liked that you were real. I never get real, ever.” He stares at me for several tense seconds. “But I’m sorry I lied to you.”

I drag my tongue up the length of it, sucking on his Adam’s apple; it vibrates against my lips as he moans. I suck his lips next, licking them, sinking my teeth into the bottom. Beneath me, he starts to move his hips, thrusting up slowly, his hands sliding beneath my shirt at my back.

Did you get any sleep? A few hours, he responds. You should rest today. No way. I’ll exist on California sun, caffeine, and Gigi.

So romantic

Acting a part for a year and somehow you didn’t pick up on it. You’re an actor. It’s your job to know when someone is acting. I’m a journalist. It’s my job to see the story underneath. I didn’t.”

I love his breathless laugh—the sound I’ve come to recognize as his elated disbelief. “Shh,” he whispers down at me, and then I get it, what made him laugh, what made him happy—my melting down beneath him,

“Asked you whether my dimples taste like candy?” His next laugh comes out as a quiet puff of air, and he looks mildly horrified. “People wonder this?” “That’s probably the most innocent thing they imagine tasting, Alec.” He frowns, and I kiss his sweet pout. “Well, do they?” he asks, finally, grinning. “Do they what?” “Taste like sugar.” “No.” “What do they taste like?” “Happiness.”

“Have you ever really been in love?” I ask, out of absolutely nowhere. But the question doesn’t seem to surprise him at all. “I don’t know.” He looks down at his hand as it roams up my waist, coming to a gentle landing over my breast. “Have you?” I close my eyes and coax his head to my neck, answering just before sleep pulls me under. “I don’t know, either.”

Being with a celebrity isn’t in my fantasy spank bank. I want the Seattle hotel, the LA hotel. I want our beach day; I want last night, goofing off with Eden. I want later, in my bed, with him telling me again how he needs to find a new word to describe my expression when he touches me. I want to hear him say again that he’s desperate for me.

It’s been an emotionally intense day for you. My preference is you stay. I’m—I mean, I am obviously deeply attracted to you, but beyond that I like you. I want to be around you as much as I can until I leave.”

“Look at you.” He bites his lip, nostrils flaring in hunger. “You’re wet down to your thighs.” He tilts his face up to the ceiling, choking out an overwhelmed exhale, pulling his focus back down to watch himself do it again. “Do I need to go down there and clean you up with my tongue?” He turns his eyes up to my face and gives me a wicked smile. “You see how wet you’re making me? Look, Gigi.”

🔥🔥🔥🔥

And this time I know he’s going to go longer. He’s going to destroy me with teasing. Restraining himself. Edging closer and closer to his own breaking point.

Please, I beg silently. Please fall into me. But also: Please, don’t ever finish.

“You’re going to make me love you, aren’t you?” He doesn’t even falter, in step or breath. He says only, “I’m sure going to try.”

… wondering how on earth it is that I could fall in love in a matter of days. In fact, I think I fell in love in a matter of minutes, with the woman sitting opposite me at a hotel bar.

I wish you hadn’t left this morning. What do you wish I’d done instead? he replies. I bite back my smile as I type. I wish I’d invited you in. I told you if I came in, I wouldn’t want to leave. If you came in now, I wouldn’t LET you leave.

“I have an important question for you.” His attention has drifted to my breasts. “My answer is yes.” “You have my red dress, don’t you?” He nods, distractedly. “Stole it. Never planned to return it.”

“Do you love me when I’m deep like this?” he asks me.

I whisper into his mouth that I do, more than anything.

“I think I’m starting to believe you.”