Alexander

For the second time in three months I was driving into the country for Violet King. When she’d left chambers on Wednesday, she hadn’t complained that I wasn’t leaving with her. And she hadn’t asked me how long I’d stay, or even if I was sure I’d definitely make it. She just took each day as it came.

I’d found that the lunches we spent together didn’t impact my workload as much as I might have expected. In fact, our stolen moments invigorated me, leaving me more efficient after time away from my desk. It made me yearn for more time with her.

I turned up the gravel driveway the map indicated. The Duke of Westbury’s estate was beautiful. Violet King was full of surprises.

As I pulled up in front of the house, the door opened and Violet came tripping down the steps. I was only just out of the car when she threw her arms around my neck.

“You made it,” she said, more delighted than I could have hoped for.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“And you never say anything you don’t mean.” She pressed her lips against mine and I pulled her in tighter.

“This is a beautiful place,” I said, scanning the gardens. “Capability Brown by the looks of it.”

“Yes, we should take a walk down to the lake, but after lunch, which will last the whole day. So tomorrow. If you’re going to stay?”

“I’ll stay if you’ll have me.”

She tilted her head. “I really like you,” she said.

I chuckled. “I really like you, too. Now come and help me with this,” I said, opening the back door. I handed her two paper bags.

“What’s in here?” she asked.

“I didn’t know what to bring, so some booze for the adults and toys for the children.” I closed the door and went ’round to the boot and pulled out my weekend bag. “What?” I asked as she stood there, her brow furrowed.

“You brought the kids gifts?” she asked.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s just a few things I ordered online. I have no idea if they’re age appropriate.” I nodded toward the door. “Let’s get in; it’s freezing.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

I chuckled. No one had ever called me sweet before.

“Everyone’s getting ready for lunch, so I’ll show you up to our room.” Violet set the gifts on a side table. As we climbed the stairs, a shriek echoed through the walls and a door slammed.

A petite girl with long brown hair bounded down the stairs to meet us in her stockinged feet. “You must be Violet’s boyfriend,” she said, sticking out her hand. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’m Darcy.”

“How do you do?” I asked, taking her hand. “Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home.”

She lifted herself up on her tiptoes and then set herself down again. “It’s a total pleasure. I think giving thanks is such a wonderful idea, and I’m so pleased we have another person from this side of the pond around the table. We’re usually overrun!”

“Yes, these Americans are taking over,” I replied.

“I’m just popping down to see that everything’s running smoothly and that Mrs. MacBee hasn’t had a stroke. Make yourself at home, and let me know if I can get you anything.”

She bounded down the stairs and we continued to make our way up.

“You’re so charming,” Violet said, kissing my cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of when I try,” I replied, swatting her bum.

She laughed. “I’m enjoying finding out.”

Violet was at her most beautiful when she was laughing.

“This house is so creaky. The floors, the walls, the doors. And the beds.”

“Sounds like we’ll have to get creative,” I replied. “What time’s lunch?” I’d missed sleeping next to her last night. Even though we’d not been staying over at each other’s place until recently, I’d gotten in the habit of creeping around in the dark when I got up in the mornings, so it had felt odd to be able to have the light on and the news in the background as I padded around my hotel room.

“We don’t have time,” she replied, slapping my hand from her backside. “You’re not a fast fuck.”

“Good to know where I am on your scale, but we had to be pretty quick that first time, in the office.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—it was a compliment.”

“Hey, lighten up. Live in the moment,” I teased.

“God, you’re annoying.”

I bent and kissed her head as we arrived at a large oak door.

“This is us,” she said.

I tried not to smile at the label. I hadn’t been an us in a long time. I wasn’t sure I’d really ever been an us before. With Violet, us was new. But it was the right description.

When we got in, I dumped my bag and took my jacket off. “Come here,” I said, holding my arms out. I needed to feel her warmth, to enjoy the way her body fit so perfectly against mine.

“How was your conference call?” she asked, sliding her hands around my waist and putting her head on my chest.

I exhaled and tightened my grip. “Good. I’ve left Sebastian a list of stuff to get on with. I’m delegating. Are you proud?”

“Very,” she said. “And pretty blown away that you’re here.”

A loud knock at the bedroom door interrupted us.

Violet groaned. “That will be my sister.”

I released my arms and Violet went to answer the door while I slipped my jacket back on.

“Is he here?” someone whispered.

“Alexander, this is my annoying sister, Scarlett.” Violet held the door open and Scarlett walked through.

Scarlett was slightly taller than Violet but they both had similar long, dark hair.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she said and we shook hands.

“How do you do? I’m Alex.”

“Want to go downstairs? It’s almost one,” Violet said, hurrying us out. “Apparently we have drinks in the library before lunch.”

I nodded and followed the girls out.

Violet glanced over her shoulder at me as I walked behind them down the stairs. She smiled, but it wasn’t the same unforced grin I’d seen from her earlier.

“This must be Alexander,” a British man said as we entered the library. “I’m Ryder. How do you do?”

I took his hand. “Please call me Alex.”

“Gosh, all these introductions. I hope it isn’t too overwhelming,” Darcy said, handing me a glass of champagne. “Ryder is my brother and Scarlett’s husband. That,” she said, pointing at a man crouching to negotiate with a toddler, “is Max, Violet and Scarlett’s brother—”

“And I’m Harper,” a woman with brown hair interrupted. “I’m Violet’s sister-in-law and the chief interrogator for the day.”

“Don’t mind my wife,” Max said, joining the group. “I’m the protective older brother. I hear you’re a barrister.”

I glanced over at Violet, who was glaring at her brother.

“That’s right. And you’re on Wall Street?” I asked. I much preferred to learn about others than answer questions. Most of the time, people were happy to oblige me.

“And you work in the same office as Violet?” he asked.

“Indeed.”

“I’m a big fan of office romances,” Harper said, patting her husband’s chest. “It’s how Max and I met. And here we are—married with three kids.”

“And you’re married?” Max asked me, his eyes narrowing.

I couldn’t blame him questioning me about my marriage. I was dating his sister, but it felt a little misplaced—Violet and I weren’t about to have three kids. Our relationship was different. It was constrained by my job and my capacity to make time for a woman. “Gabby and I split up three years ago.”

“Don’t start, Max,” Violet urged. “Can’t we just have a nice time rather than reenact the Spanish Inquisition?”

Luckily, we were interrupted by someone coming in to announce lunch and we all wandered into the dining room. Violet and I trailed behind, and I picked up her hand and pressed my lips to her fingers. “I can handle anything they dish out. Don’t worry.”

She sighed. “But they’re making such a big deal out of it.” She shook her head.

“You’re the little sister, but it doesn’t matter. You and I know who we are together and that’s all that matters.”

Violet stopped and turned to me, her free hand on her chest. She searched my face with her gaze. “You’re right. We do. We’re living in the moment, just enjoying each other’s company.”

“Exactly. Stop worrying.” I kissed her forehead and we headed into lunch, taking our seats as indicated by the name cards. It was just adults around the table, and I’d been placed between Violet and Scarlett. Food was passed around and the chatter and laughter seemed to relax Violet.

“Thanks for coming,” Scarlett said as she handed me a plate of broccoli.

“It was very nice to be invited. I’ve never had a Thanksgiving before.”

“I don’t suppose you have. Something else that you and Violet don’t have in common,” Scarlett said.

“Sorry?” Was there subtext behind her statement?

“You and Violet seem to be quite different.”

“You know what they say about opposites,” I replied. “And we have plenty in common—neither of us suffer fools gladly, and she’s not afraid of speaking her mind. We complement each other in lots of ways,” I said, passing the plate to Violet, who was busy talking to Darcy.

“Complement each other?” Scarlett asked, handing me another bowl of something. “Candied yams,” she explained as I spooned out a small amount onto my plate.

I nodded. “Yes. Violet doesn’t like to plan and I’m so busy—it works quite well for us. And . . .” Our picnic lunch replayed in my mind. She knew I was busy. But she also knew I could extricate myself from my work for an hour. “You know, she challenges me—shows me how life can be different.”

My world had been broadened with Violet in it—not least because I spent time with her but also because she had me trying new restaurants, taking picnics in November, and going to museums in my lunchtimes.

“She’s helped me to seize the day a little more.” Unexpectedly, Violet had made small changes in my life, cracked open my narrow view on the world, which meant I was enjoying each day more and more.

Scarlett smiled. “Spontaneity really is Violet’s best quality.”

“One of many,” I replied.

My responses seemed to placate Scarlett, and we fell into casual conversation about her business and her life spent between Connecticut and England.

“I hear you’ve given up waitressing,” Ryder said to Violet. “How’s office life?”

“Different,” Violet replied. “I like it though. I enjoy solving problems and sorting out issues.”

“She’s very good at it,” I interjected. “Too good really. Way overqualified.”

“What do you think you’ll end up doing when you come back to New York?” Ryder asked.

Violet laughed. “You know me, Ryder, I don’t think past the end of the week. I have no idea.”

“You still thinking about Columbia?” Scarlett asked Violet, while spooning potatoes onto her plate.

I turned my head to see Violet’s reaction. Columbia University?

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe. I’ve filled out the application. They might not take me.”

“I think going back to school would be an amazing thing for you,” Scarlett said. “You have this big brain that you haven’t used in so long.”

Back to school?

I racked my mind, trying to think back about whether Violet had ever mentioned anything about getting another qualification. That was a huge piece of news. Why hadn’t Violet said anything? Clearly, she was thinking about her future more than she’d ever disclosed to me. And she saw her future in New York at Columbia University. That was a positive step. I would hate to see her talent wasted doing any more waitressing or frankly any more administration. She should be doing something else with her ability. I was happy for her.

But hearing it stung slightly. More than it should have. More than I would have ever thought it would. Because Columbia University was three thousand miles away and her applying there was evidence that none of her plans for the future involved me.

I thought about my future all the time, but only ever in terms of my career. I carefully considered the work I aspired to do and how it would impact my desire to take silk early. I spoke to Craig and Lance about my career path and what I could do to step things up. I was constantly looking toward the horizon.

But when I saw myself in the future—the man with a career to rival my father’s—the best at the bar, was all I saw. I didn’t see a home or a wife or children. I never thought about the places I’d visited or the experiences I had—it was all about work. If I looked even two months ahead, Violet’s contract would be up, and then what? Would my expanded world suddenly shrink? Would it become smaller in her absence? Less interesting. Almost certainly. But of course Violet had to consider her future, and I should be happy about that. But would I be sad if she disappeared from my life? If she wasn’t in my future?

I realized I would, but there was nothing I could do.

Violet

“Who’d have thought you could be so charming?” I asked Alexander as I lay sprawled across the bed as he undid his tie.

“Who’d have thought you could be so sexy?” he replied as he came toward me. “This dress should be illegal.” He smoothed his fingers over my cleavage and starting on my buttons.

“You bought it for me.”

“Because I knew you’d look incredible.”

My dress open, he abandoned me and began to undo his own shirt.

“Why do you have everyone call you Alex?” I’d never noticed it before, but whenever people called him Alexander, he asked them to call him Alex.

He smirked as he discarded his shirt and began to take off his pants. “That’s my name.”

“Very funny. I call you Alexander and you’ve never asked me to call you Alex.”

“I know. I’ve never liked it. It was always the name I associated with my father.”

“But you don’t mind me calling you it?”

He shook his head as he stood completely naked in front of me. I squeezed my thighs together at the sight of him—his strong thighs and perfect cock. I knew what happened next, knew how he’d feel inside me. I shivered as an ache for him grew in my stomach.

“I like it when it comes from your mouth.” He crawled over me and began to peel off my dress. “What I don’t like is you keeping things from me.” He lay beside me.

I frowned, unsure of what he meant. Before I had a chance to ask him, he’d moved my underwear to one side and shoved two fingers inside me.

I gasped at the unexpected action.

“I don’t like being caught off guard like that.” His thumb slid over my clit and he began to pump his fingers in and out of me. “So you don’t get my cock. Not for this first orgasm.”

He was denying me his dick because I hadn’t told him about . . . what, exactly?

I grabbed at his wrist, trying to stop his relentless, driving rhythm. “What did I keep from you?” I asked, trying to beat back the waves of pleasure that were travelling up my body.

“Columbia, going back to university.”

I let out a groan as my orgasm began to build.

“You see how easily I turn you on?”

I closed my eyes, unable to speak, reveling in his hard, rough fingers between my legs as pulses of pleasure scattered under my skin.

“You want to come so quickly.”

My whole body was throbbing within seconds of him touching me.

Without warning he removed his hand and moved away from me. My eyes flew open.

I’d been a second away from my climax. What was he doing? “Alexander. What . . .”

“You don’t keep things from me.” His face was dark and serious.

I’d had no idea he’d want to know. Why did he care what I did when I left London?

“I’m sorry,” I said, smoothing my palm down his cheek.

He skirted his hand down my belly and across my pussy, pressing his fingers inside me more gently this time.

“That was the brochure you were reading when I met you at the museum,” he said. “I asked you what it was.”

I arched my back as his fingers resumed their pumping and circling. “You have so much to think about. It wasn’t important.” My voice was breathless as my body inched toward climax.

He read my body as though he’d been studying me for years. I didn’t know how, but he understood exactly the rhythm I needed, the perfect amount of pressure, when to hold back and when to let go.

His fingers changed direction at exactly the right time, and I was lost as pleasure burst out of my every cell.

Before I’d caught my breath, Alexander crawled on top of me and his condom-covered dick nudged at my entrance.

“You tell me this stuff, you hear me?” he whispered in my ear, his hair brushing against my cheek, setting me on fire as he pushed inside. “I want to know.”

Right then I would have told him everything. I wanted to say how thankful I was to have met him. How I’d never had sex that had me sated and yet craving for more at the same time as I did with him. How no man before him had ever made me feel as sexy and wanton, yet so respected at the same time. How his passion to succeed and build a legacy seemed to have burrowed into my DNA. Alexander had changed me, altered my view of the world.

The drag of his dick inside me brought me back to physical need. I watched as his forehead became sheened in sweat born of the effort to make me feel good, to make him feel good, to make us feel good.

I opened my legs wider, wanting him deeper and more connected to me.

He groaned and thrust harder, pressing his smooth fingers into mine, covering my hands and keeping us joined, as if our hands clasped together meant we’d share everything from now on—our hopes and fears, our feelings and emotions. I shouldn’t, but I enjoyed him wanting to know about Columbia, about my plans—that he seemed to feel like he had some kind of stake in my future. I felt the same. I wanted him to do well, be happy, laugh more.

I’d never felt so close to anyone.

These feelings weren’t meant to develop. I wasn’t supposed to care for someone. What was happening to me? I’d promised myself I’d never open up to a man again. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted Alexander, liked him, trusted him. I’d not just opened up a little. He owned me.

Before I could figure out what to do with all these overwhelming realizations, Alexander shifted back onto his knees with me on his lap, my legs either side him.

His fingers dug into my ass as he pulled me toward him, driving his hips at the same time, my breasts thrust up with the movement. Alexander’s eyes dropped, taking in my chest. He groaned, pushing deeper and harder.

I gripped his shoulders as our hips pushed against each other, our bodies desperate and wanting, scrambling toward climax.

I glanced down and saw him gazing up at me, his perfectly blue eyes taking me in as if to memorize me.

The fucking felt different this time, as if we needed something more from each other, needed to prove something, break down some kind of barrier. As though we’d moved to a different level of our relationship.

“Alexander,” I moaned.

“No hiding,” he grunted, his movements becoming sharper and less controlled.

I wasn’t sure if it was his demanding tone or his need for more of me that triggered my orgasm, but my entire body began to shudder at his stipulation.

He thrust into me three more times, his face contorted by his orgasm.

I wanted to give him everything he demanded of me.

What was happening to me? I’d promised myself that I’d never care about a man again, and yet here I was, wrapped in a man’s arms, hoping that he’d never let me go.