Fated An Alpha Male Romance - K. Alex Walker Page 0,6
to cover up in a black pencil skirt, matching suit jacket, and plain dress shirt. However, I could spot a curve in a straight line and Alexandra had plenty of them.
The first time that we had a chance to really talk, I’d half-expected to be brushed off as beneath her societal status despite the MD that followed my name. Instead, her dark, intense eyes had cooled to a lighter shade of brown as she shook my hand. She’d made a corny joke about the light rain outside, which brought my attention to the cute curve of her mouth when she laughed. Ever since then, I stopped by her office every day just to find a way to make her laugh. Most of the time, more than once. If that’s not some crazy shit, then I don’t know what is.
Despite my desire to fuck her seven ways ‘til Sunday, she kept me at a professional distance, which I respected. I wasn’t the kind of man to overstep a woman’s boundaries and it seemed kind of pointless to keep pursuing past a “no” when I was so good at getting them to scream, “yes.”
My fingers made even strokes along her shoulders, and she moved her head from side to side to loosen her neck. At the same time, she made a quiet moaning noise that forced me to use all of my willpower not to tug down the zipper of her black skirt.
“That feels amazing, Dr. Stewart,” she said in a voice that spoke directly to the swell in my pants.
“If you’d like, I can refer you to a colleague of mine,” I offered. “He’s been practicing chiropractic medicine for at least a decade now. You wouldn’t want a little bit of back pain to turn into anything long-term.”
She shifted on the desk and a now visible bulge greeted me from the region of my zipper. All she had to do was turn slightly to her right to spot my arousal. I was literally inches away from a sexual harassment suit.
“Ethan?”
The sound of my first name finally rippling from between her soft lips made my chest tight. My mind rustled through a list of women’s names in my contact list who I knew would agree to come down to the office to take the edge off of my growing cock, but even as I narrowed on a possible selection, I still only wanted the woman sitting in front of me.
“What happened to Dr. Stewart?” I asked, lust oozing from my voice like raw honey.
She reached back, touched my hand moving over her shoulders, and then popped up from the desk as though the contact had jolted her. She moved past me, bolting across the room until she was just a few inches from the door, and I quickly slinked behind her computer monitor hoping that she hadn’t spotted my very obvious erection. When she looked down at the front of my pants and then back up at me, I realized that it was too late.
“What is happening?” she asked, taking a few more steps backwards until the weight of her body pressed the door closed. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and I wanted to pull them into my mouth, now plump and flushed from her mild torture.
I feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that.” Her eyes fell and she pointed to my stubborn dick still bulging against my pants. “You. Me.”
Whatever was going on between us, she was feeling it too.
“You mean why I can’t stop myself from thinking about how much I want to fuck you right now?” I asked, taking the plunge.
Her eyes flickered at the word fuck, the supposed crassness of it. I was a man that had been educated at Johns Hopkins, which housed one of the top medical schools in the nation. I can play Chopin on a grand piano as though it were Chopsticks. I’ve read Balzac and Thoreau. I wasn’t supposed to use words like that. But, unlike Alexandra, that wasn’t the life that I was given. That was the life that I’d built.
She rocked against the wall and I felt my heel lift from the ground. Although desire had nearly obscured her beautiful honey-brown spheres which I tried, very hard, not to lose time in, I still needed to hear her say it.
“I don’t feel like I can fight it, Ethan,” she responded. Then, I heard the lock in the door click as it turned.