Fill Me (10 page)

But not yet.

Instead, I slide my arms around her, pulling her close. I feel her hands on my waist, her head against my chest as her body melts into mine. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she says.

"No idea?" I ask.

She nods, hugging me tighter. "I better wash my makeup off or I'm going to ruin your suit." She pulls back, wiping a tear from under her eye. "You look hot as hell in that."

"I look hotter in nothing," I say. She blushes, pulling her robe around her shoulders. "If you're lucky, you might see that tonight."

"If I'm lucky?"

I nod. "I'm not easy, you know."

"I know." She grins and takes a seat at the vanity. "How was your flight?"

"I worked the whole time. So now I can devote one hundred percent of my attention to you."

She fiddles with her makeup remover, pouring it onto a cotton ball. "This is so disgusting. You shouldn't watch."

"You were amazing," I say.

"I won't object."

She washes off her makeup, then slips out of her wardrobe. She makes a point of lingering in her bra and panties before she pulls on a low-cut cotton dress. Damn. Maybe she did know I was coming.

I move closer to her, wrapping my arms around her as I kiss her neck. Mhmm. She smells so good. Like my Alyssa. "I'm going to take you out to dinner," I say.

"It's ten thirty."

"Have you eaten?"

She shakes her head. "Let's not get into that."

"We don't have to discuss it in detail," I say. "But I would like to feed you before I use up every last ounce of your energy."

Her jaw drops and she stammers. "We'll see." She offers her hand and I take it. We make our way out of the theater, through the back entrance where no one will spot her.

We eat at a nearby restaurant, a deli known only for being open late. Alyssa orders a salad and a cup of soup and she eats all of it without comment or protest. She doesn't even make a fuss about me watching her.

"Tell me everything about the play," I say, and she does. She talks about every little thing until our last scraps of food are cold. She's so animated, I soak in every single one of her words. I've never seen her so excited. At least, not while she was clothed.

***

After dinner we can't get to the apartment fast enough. Our cab feels like it's crawling at a snail's pace. Alyssa is sleepy but it doesn't stop her from slipping her hands under my suit jacket and dragging her lips against my neck.

When we're finally in the apartment, Alyssa slides my jacket off my shoulders and gets to work on my buttons. She presses her lips into mine, a soft but hungry kiss. She moans. "I missed you so much."

I press my hands into her back, pulling her closer. She kisses me harder, deeper, her body melting around mine. "Let me... get into something more comfortable," she says with a giggle. "You could do the same."

"Comfortable how?" I smirk. It's fun to pull this out of her, to get her to admit how much she wants me.

"You know how," she says. She moves to the bedroom. "Give me five minutes." She bites her lip and shuts the door behind her.

Five minutes until a few scraps of silk are wrapped around her body like a bow around a present. Until I peel that bra and loose panties off her and run my hands over every inch of her body.

These are going to be the hardest five minutes of my life.

I strip to my boxers. Alyssa is in her bedroom, nearly naked, desperate for my hands on her body.

I wait for her to say "come in," to taunt me the way I always taunt her, but there's nothing. Finally, I can't take it anymore. I open the bedroom door.

And Alyssa is lying there, in that unbelievably sexy silk lingerie, fast asleep.

It's disappointing, but there's something so adorable about her like that, her body splayed over the bed like she's waiting to be ravaged.

I pull the covers over her head and get in bed next to her. I'll torture her plenty tomorrow.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alyssa

The smell of coffee wafts into the bedroom. My boyfriend is making me coffee. I'm the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world.

And then it hits me--I fell asleep last night. I fell asleep and somehow managed to stay asleep in this utterly gorgeous silk lingerie.

There's no use crying over spilled milk. I'm already dressed to kill. All I need to do is wash my face and brush my teeth and I'll get Luke right where I want him.

Luke is in the kitchen sipping a mug of tea, wearing nothing but his navy boxers. He has a devilish grin on his face. So he's not going to make this easy.

He looks me over slowly. "That's some outfit for breakfast."

"And yours?"

He brushes his shoulders and chest like he's smoothing his shirt. "You like it?"

I nod. I like it. And I'd like it more if those were my hands on his body.

Luke stands and moves towards me. He places his hands on my shoulders and runs his fingertips over my collarbone. His lips are inches from mine and my body hums from the proximity.

He brushes his lips against mine, as softly as humanly possible. His hands slide down my shoulders. I lean into him, grabbing his waist.

He kisses me harder, sucking on my lips.

Then the microwave beeps. Luke pulls away, the smile on his face lighting up his big, brown eyes. "Your breakfast is ready."

"Fuck breakfast."

"Sounds painful." He slides his fingers over my spine, his touch soft and delicate. "Unless. Do you have a banana you want to put in your... well, not in your oatmeal, I guess."

I fold my arms. "I hate you."

He smiles and kisses me again, hard, a kiss that says
you're going to wait
. "We have a full day ahead of us. You'll need your energy." He pulls away from me, finishes fixing breakfast, and takes a seat at the kitchen table. His gaze returns to me, passing over my body again. "You look amazing."

Not amazing enough, apparently.

"Don't pout, Ally. I'd love to fuck you right now."

My teeth sink into my lip and I reach for something, anything to grab.

"But first, I'm going to torture you all day. Until you're so wet, so ready that you think you might die if I don't fuck you properly."

Jesus Christ.

"How does that sound?"

"Umm..." I stammer, trying to wipe the shocked look off my face. "I can live with that."

"Good." He smiles and pats the seat next to him. "Your coffee is getting cold."

I fold my arms across my chest. "I'll change first."

"I wish you wouldn't."

His eyes pass over my body. It's a look of pure desire, and it sends electricity buzzing through my body. Fine. If he's going to torture me, I'll torture him too.

"I'm taking off my underwear and I'm not putting any on."

He smirks. "I like the way you think."

I drag my heels to the bedroom and pick out the sexiest outfit that is still weather appropriate. Thigh-high socks, ankle boots, and a short V-neck dress. A really, really short V-neck dress.

It's perfect.

When I return to the kitchen, Luke looks at me, well, like I look at him.

"You're going to pay for that," he says.

"Good."

I join him at the table and we talk about little things over breakfast. He asks about the play. I ask about his current cases, but he insists he wants to keep his mind off work. So I request the same. This weekend, well, this Monday and Tuesday, is going to be about us.

***

Luke and I are tourists all morning. We start at the MoMA, making our way through rooms of famous pop art and truly strange installations. He takes me into the staircase and runs his fingers over the edge of my dress. It's a small thing, something no one else would notice, but it wakes up all the nerves in my body.

We eat lunch at a quaint Japanese restaurant, and Luke keeps his mouth shut when I order nothing but sashimi. The fish is amazing, fresh and melt-in-your-mouth tender, and I almost relax, even though Luke is making a point of not watching me eat.

We linger in the restaurant, drinking green tea and catching up on all the little details of the last few weeks.

After lunch we take the subway to one edge of Central Park, and start making our way to the other end. It's quieter than I expected. And more of an oasis. If I don't look up, I can't tell I'm in the middle of the most populated city in the country. All I can see is long grass lawns, clumps of deep green trees, and little man-made lakes.

We walk quietly for a while, soaking in the scenery and the pure ecstasy of being only three inches apart.

Finally, Luke breaks the silence. "I've been thinking..."

"That doesn't sound like you."

He stops and pulls me towards him. Our bodies connect, his hands on the small of my back.

"I think about you constantly," he says. "You have a vise grip on my thoughts."

I shake my head, my teeth sinking into my lip.

"Ally, do you really doubt that?"

"Sometimes."

He runs his hands over my back. "Don't. I love you so much. More than anything." He leans closer, until I can smell his earthy aftershave, feel his breath on my cheeks. "I've been thinking about the future."

My face flushes as I struggle to find any appropriate words. "What about it?"

"I have an amazing vision of the immediate future--how I'm going to tear that dress off and lick every inch of your body."

He brushes his fingertips across my neck and jaw, resting his palm on my cheek. I turn into the gesture with a quiet sigh.

"You know I'm not good with the future."

"Do you see anything at all?"

I shake my head. "I can barely see getting through the next few months."

"You will." He brushes a hair behind my ear and brings his hand to my chin until our eyes are locked again. "And then we'll have the rest of our lives to spend together."

I bite my tongue. It should sound amazing. It does. But there's something about it, something that makes my knees weak and my grip shaky.

Luke pulls me closer, only for a moment. I close my eyes and press my lips into his, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into him. I can't explain it. I can't even figure it out myself. But I need him to know how I feel, how much I love him.

Our kiss breaks and he brings his gaze back to mine. It's sweet, sincere.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I nod. I'd rather we never discussed if I was okay again. He runs his hands over my arms. It's such a gentle, sweet thing. I feel like I could melt. But I stand firm as he takes my hand and continues our walk. "What do you want to happen next year?"

"I don't know. I guess I want to survive."

"Ally, I know you have higher aspirations than that. You don't get to be a TV star or a Broadway actor by only aiming to survive."

"I'm sorry, honey, but I don't know."

"Well, let's try it. Close your eyes."

"This is silly."

"Do it anyway," he says. He pulls me towards the side of the path, under the shade of a blossoming tree. "Now, close your eyes."

I do as I'm instructed.

"We'll start with something easy. Think about tonight. What are you going to do?"

A smile creeps onto my lips. "You know what I'm going to do tonight."

"And I want you to imagine it vividly. Every touch, every kiss, every caress."

I'm sure I'm blushing.

"Do you see it?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Now, let's move a little farther. Let's try next week. Can you imagine what you'll do next Monday, on your next day off?"

"No," I say. I try hard to imagine where I'll be next week, but all I can see is that apartment. I'll probably be lying in bed, dead tired, barely able to read my Kindle.

"You're thinking something. I can tell."

"I'll be in the apartment reading."

"That's a start." His voice is deep and soft, but there's an urgency to it, like there's something he's getting at. I bite my lip. Of course there's something he's getting at.

I'm not an idiot. He's asking about my future, but really, he's asking about our future. If I think we'll be together forever.

There it is again, that ugly word. Forever. I hate forever.

"How about next year. This time, next year, where will you be?"

I open my mouth to object, but I resist the urge. Where will I be next year? What do I see? I'm not entirely sure. There are hints of something--Luke getting home from work, slowly stripping off his suit, torturing me. We're in his house, our house, I guess. And we're going to eat dinner. But there's still a fuss, still all these questions, all this tension. We still can't manage to eat a damn meal without it becoming an interrogation.

Is that the future we're hurtling towards?

I blink open my eyes. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Luke squeezes my arm gently as he moves closer. "What is it?"

"Whatever this is, this self-help vision game, I don't want to do it anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like it. Why is this something we have to talk about?"

"Our future together?"

I nod. "How about we let it happen instead of over-directing it."

"One question every few months isn't over-directing." He runs a hand through his hair, his expression filling with concern. Great. I'm a matter of concern again. "I love you, Alyssa, and I never doubt that I want to be with you. Do you doubt you want to be with me?"

"On occasion."

He bites his lip. "Okay. That's fair. You know what a fan I am of reasonable doubt."

I suppress a laugh. "That's only vaguely related."

"True, but it made you smile."

"Luke, you're killing me here."

"I know," he says. "But I won't be able to breathe properly until you tell me if you see a future together."

"We've been together for a year."

"That's not an answer."

"Are you going to keep sending my friends to check on me?" I ask. It's not an answer, not really, but it will deflect him until I can figure out what to say, how to explain the thoughts careening around my brain.