The Perfect Man Read online

  I forgot how to breathe when he started singing.

  It took me a minute to recognize the song. “Put Your Lights On.” One of the slinkiest songs Santana recorded. Listening to Alex’s deep, rough voice rumble out the lyrics, my tears dried and everything inside me started to melt, need growing and pooling between my legs.

  He didn’t stop until he’d sung the entire song. We lapsed into silence once more, save the occasional creak of the boards under our feet. My legs were slowly numbing with cold. I was afraid if I spoke, if I moved from this spot, I’d find myself alone, dancing with my imagination.

  I didn’t want perfection. I wanted human.

  “It’s not fair,” I said, the words muffled by his coat.

  “What’s that?” He took a small step back, and the effect was a bucket of ice water. I was instantly cold.

  “I can’t just fly you to Europe and get you a car.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Don’t suppose you can.” He flashed that charming smile at me, and I felt a little better.

  We headed out of the park and across the lot to the back door of the building, the snow crunching underfoot with each step. Nerves flared to life the closer we got. Did I invite him in? Get his number and let him go?

  I dug into my pocket for my keys, fingers trembling as I drew them out. I would not drop them in the snow. I would not. I managed to fit the key in the lock, then tugged off my gloves and pulled my phone from my pocket.

  Then I stared at it. I couldn’t get the words past my lips. So tonight was way more awesome than I thought it would be, do you want to do it again? He would. He wouldn’t kiss me like that if he wasn’t going to come back for more.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he just wanted to play the white knight for an evening.

  I drew in an icy breath, the cold searing my lungs. “Um. So.” My hand shook, and I tightened my grip on the phone. I snuck a glance at him. “D’you…wanna come up?”

  He pulled off his gloves and plucked my phone out of my hand, his thumbs flying over the surface. He handed it back and stuck his hands in his pockets, his gaze intense. “That’s a dangerous question, Hannah.”

  “Why?” The word popped out of my mouth without warning.

  His brows lowered, and he ducked his head, muttering incoherently.

  “Alex?” I took a step forward.

  And took several steps back as he crushed his mouth to mine, pushing me into the door.

  This…

  This was lust.

  This was heat.

  This was tangled limbs and bodies moving in an ancient synchronicity, the only music groans and cries for faster harder fuck me now.

  His mouth moved with a vicious fury, demanding everything. His tongue swept in and commanded, long, firm strokes meant to make me imagine what it would be like to have him between my thighs. I may have pleaded for more. I know I whimpered. Then he sucked my tongue into his mouth and I moaned.

  He had my dress rucked up, his thigh pressed between my legs, his hands gripping my hips and urging me on. On and on and on, shoving me closer to an edge I couldn’t wait to fall over.

  And just as quickly as it started, it stopped. He took my hand and brought it between our bodies, covering his arousal. Through the haze of desire hanging over my head, surprise—and a little panic—sliced through. I didn’t do this, ask men in after knowing them for mere hours. I wasn’t cut out for it. This wasn’t me, and if I’d learned anything in the last year, it was to stay true to myself.

  I really, really wanted to be someone else right now.

  “That,” he said roughly, choking when I squeezed. “Been half-hard most of the evening, ever since you told me about your tattoos. I would give anything to take you upstairs and uncover every single one of them.”

  With shaking hands, he set me away from him, his eyes dark with lust and something like guilt. “You deserve to be pursued. I wish I could chase you, Hannah.” He bent forward and kissed my cheek. “Good night,” he said softly.

  Horny, confused, hurt, I watched him walk back to his car. The cold did a marvelous job of cooling me off, though it did nothing for the hurt. He’d been right there with me the entire time. The way he’d walked away had me questioning why he’d bothered giving me his number at all.

  I trudged upstairs to my apartment. The building was small, three floors, six units, and I was on the top floor. I made enough now I could have afforded a small house, but I loved the charm of the place. Laziness had a lot to do with it, too. If I bought a house, I had to handle repairs myself. I rent, I had a landlord I could call.

  Lucien and Remy, my kittens, squeaked when I slipped inside my apartment. “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. It was their nightly play time, and they scampered over, biting at my ankles. I nudged them away and they abandoned me for the built-in bookcase next to the fireplace, something they’d scaled just last week. It was their newest favorite place to perch, and they loved throwing themselves off the top.

  I made my way into the bedroom and stripped off my dress, sighing when I removed the boots. Another fantasy to be set aside. In the bathroom, I washed off my makeup, then found my current ragged fleece pants (I had several pairs, all in the same state of ripped up-edness), added a tank, a sweatshirt, and a pair of thick wool socks, then padded out to the kitchen in search of popcorn.

  As I rooted around for the popcorn, my mind strayed to the last kiss I’d shared with Alex. Apparently, we had everything when it came to chemistry. Sweetness and fire. Now that I’d seen it, experienced it, it drove home one more thing wrong with my previous relationship. I’d had fire. I’d had softness. But it hadn’t necessarily been sweet or tender.

  I braced my elbows on the kitchen counter. Jonah had screwed with my mind in more ways than one. Could I really trust my judgement as far as Alex was concerned?

  At least Alex was honest. There was no doubt he wanted me. He’d taken care of me when he didn’t have to. He’d been kind and charming and embarrassed to be caught at an event like the one we’d been at.

  I’d spent maybe an hour with him, and I already missed him.

  I scrambled out of the kitchen and pounced on my phone. His number was right on top. I opened a new text message. What if I want to pursue you?

  I wish I could chase you. Like he couldn’t. Like he wasn’t free.

  All the happiness I’d hoarded that evening fled, nausea taking its place. I didn’t want to know if he’d cheated. I wanted to tuck away the perfect memory he’d given me, where it’d always be shiny and clean. My stomach rolled and twisted. Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit send.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  A full minute passed, the edges of the phone digging into my fingers, and I forced myself to put it down. I’d asked. I wouldn’t ask again. I shuffled back into the kitchen and went back to hunting for the popcorn. I swore I had some.

  I located the bag of kernels at the exact moment my phone rang. I dropped the bag and darted out of the room, skidding over the hardwood floor and scaring another squeak from Remy. I snatched up the phone and glanced at the read out.

  Jonah. Again. I ignored it, then blocked his number. He was an aggravation I didn’t need. I set the phone down, and it rang a second time. Hope leaped in my chest.

  Lucy.

  Swallowing my disappointment, I hit Accept. “Hey.”

  “You home?”

  I wandered over to the couch and sank down. “Yes. Got home about ten minutes ago. I was about to make popcorn for dinner.”

  “Living on the edge there, Han.”

  “That’s me. Ms. Spontaneous.”

  Lucy sighed. “I’m sorry about tonight. I thought it would be different, you know? Not so rowdy and drunk.”

  She sounded genuinely upset, and her words echoed what Alex had told me earlier. Curious, I asked, “What did they promote it as, exactly?”

  “You’ve heard of speed dating, right?” I made a noise of assent. “Sort of like that. Not t
he same structure, but fewer people, more intimate, a good place to meet a number of people without the skankiness of a bar hook up.” She snorted. “That was an epic fail on their part.”

  I snorted right along with her. “Agreed.” I sighed. “Hun, I appreciate the effort, but no more attempts to get me to date, okay? Seeing Jonah tonight…kind of made me realize just how badly I’d read him. So maybe I’m not ready to date yet.” Except for one man. One man who’d shown me tenderness and driven me to the edge in the span of an hour.

  She was quiet for a minute. “I get it,” she said at last. “I just didn’t like seeing you sitting around your apartment all mopey. But yeah, no more set ups,” she added hastily, when I started to protest.

  “Good. Can I go now? I have a hot date with JGL.”

  She laughed. “Go forth and drool. Squeeze the tiny monsters for me.” Remy and Lucien were not shy, not in the least, and would climb all over anyone without the slightest provocation. One of them climbed up the couch as I hung up and then tried to claw his way up my sweatshirt. I pulled him off and scritched him behind the ears, jolting when the phone rang again.

  Assuming it was Lucy inviting herself over for movie night, I answered without checking the ID. “Yes, I’ll make enough popcorn for you, too.”

  Silence.

  “Hannah?”

  Oh. Oh god. Alex.

  “Um. Hi?” Heat swept over my face, burning my ears. “I guess you got my text. Um. So. I can make popcorn. Or something else. We—”

  “Hannah.”

  I shut up.

  I hated the phone sometimes. Like now, when I couldn’t see him, didn’t know him well enough to imagine what he might be doing. Were his eyes shut, or open? Free hand fisted or relaxed?

  “Are you sure you want me to come over?” His voice was low, rough, and it was easy to imagine him above me, demanding. Demanding everything.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “About earlier.”

  Dread coalesced and pooled in my stomach. Was he talking about the kiss? Or kisses?

  “That guy, in the coat room—”

  “Jonah. His name is Jonah.” I did not like this.

  “Jonah wanted to know what I was doing with his fiancé.”

  Nothing cooled ardor faster than a conversation about the ex. “Ex-fiancé, and I hope you told him it was none of his business.”

  The bastard chuckled. “I figured out the ex part already. I doubt you would have reacted the way you did if you’d still been with him. But it stuck. You might not be with him, might not want him back, but I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret anything we do.”

  My heart fluttered, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Perfect Man, making a return appearance. I wished he’d go away. “I haven’t seen Jonah in over a year. And that’s all I’m going to say about it. It’s a dead horse, and I’ve beaten it enough already. Are you coming over or not?”

  I imagined the sound breaking into millions of particles, traveling through the ether, all to bring the sound of his silence to my ear. “Sweetheart…”

  A heavy weight took up residence in my chest, threatening to sink into my stomach. I shut my eyes. No. I wasn’t going to let this drag me down. I’d take what I’d gotten and be happy with it.

  “Give me twenty minutes. It’s started snowing again.”

  My eyes snapped open and I dumped the kitten off my lap. “Unit six.” I disconnected and hurried over to the living room window.

  It was definitely snowing again. Fat flakes, coming down in a hurry. It was calming, in an odd sort of way, the white confident it would cover everything, making it pristine.

  Alex was coming. To me. Two words, and I’d broken through whatever resolve he had. I glanced down at my pants. I should put on something better. Sexier.

  I darted out of the living room and down the hall, into my bedroom, stopping short in the doorway. It was neat enough. The bed was made. There wasn’t any dirty underwear lying around. It would have to do, because it would probably take me the entire twenty minutes to figure out what to wear.

  *

  The fire crackled merrily, the flames bright and cheery, but I didn’t see them. Almost an hour had passed since I’d hung up the phone with Alex, and the buzzer hadn’t rung. Neither had my phone. I gave up about fifteen minutes ago and changed back into my previous outfit, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders for good measure. I figured I had about another ten minutes to go before hope completely deflated and I started rationalizing.

  Remy wandered over and pawed at the blanket, his meow absolutely pitiful. I picked him up and tucked him under my chin, smiling when his little sandpaper tongue licked my jaw. I’d be all right. I’d survived worse let-downs than this. Besides, who needs men when there were kittens?

  Bzzzt.

  I froze, Remy squeaking in protest when I dropped him into my lap. I shot to my feet so fast my head spun. I tripped over Lucien in my haste to get to the intercom and had to take precious seconds to calm my breathing. “Hello?”

  “It’s Alex.”

  Just the sound of him, saying his own name, had a bolt of lust rocketing through me. I hit the button to unlock the front door to the building and flipped the deadbolt and the doorknob lock.

  I was in ratty-ass clothes. Clothes no one saw me in, except Lucy, and she was forever trying to sneak them out so she could toss them. The pants were stretched out, the sweatshirt hung almost to my knees. It was about as sexy as an elephant, and from the footsteps pounding their way up the stairs, I had maybe two seconds before Alex would walk through my door. No time to change.

  I flicked my fingers over my hair, smoothing it into place. He wanted to uncover my tattoos, did he? Here was his chance.

  The knock was perfunctory, since I had the door open almost as soon as his fist hit it. He stared at me, his dark eyes full of heat and longing. Took a step forward. Another.

  And dove in.

  Hands in my hair, holding my head in place, tilting it to the perfect angle for his mouth to claim mine, he kicked the door shut behind him as his tongue slid over my lips. Telling me to open for him. On a moan, I did, melting against him. This was right. I needed this, needed this rush of sensation, this heady feeling of being craved, and as Alex’s tongue probed deeper into my mouth, I was craved.

  I fumbled with the zipper of his coat, losing control all together when he moved his mouth from my lips to my jaw, nipping and sucking his way along it to tongue the delicate skin where jaw met neck. A strangled whine escaped, and I redoubled my efforts to get him out of his coat. I went for the buttons on his shirt and was met with smooth cotton.

  Panting with need, I pulled away and glanced at his chest. “Wha—?”

  He was wearing a t-shirt. My gaze traveled down, taking in jeans and heavy boots. He looked just as hot in them as he had in the dress slacks and button up shirt he’d been wearing earlier. “Take off your coat.” My voice was raspy with renewed lust, temporary confusion forgotten.

  His coat fell in a heap on the floor, and I rushed him, sliding my hands under the hem of his shirt, greedy for skin. So hot. Hot and firm, and the lean muscles in his back flexed under my hands as I stroked up.

  His hands started doing battle with my sweatshirt, and a giggle worked its way free. “Not funny,” he muttered, finding the hem and dragging the sweatshirt up. Thank god the tank I was wearing underneath was cute. Red, with little pink hearts. Valentine’s appropriate.

  He skimmed his hands along my sides, lips curving in appreciation as his eyes locked on my chest. I’d always liked my breasts. From the look in his eyes, so did Alex.

  He reached out and drew me to him, his mouth connecting with my neck and working its way down to my collarbone. I shuddered as he rained tiny kisses over it, his tongue trailing damp heat over my shoulder to the strap of my tank top. Nudging it aside, he worked his way across to my other shoulder. I couldn’t feel my knees any longer. “Alex…”

  He lifted his head, desire b
right in his eyes. “I want you over me,” I whispered. Needed him. Needed to see him braced above me, his weight pinning me down, his skin against mine, our hands and mouth everywhere.

  On a groan, he took my mouth again, lust a vicious beast clawing at my belly. Every part of me was straining and aching for him to continue. Skin tight, heart racing, I couldn’t catch my breath. I didn’t want to. I whimpered, and he jerked back, his eyes wild as he looked around the living room.

  He dragged me over to the fireplace, where I’d dropped the blanket I’d been using, and lowered me on top of it, following me down to settle between my legs. The groans we loosed were loud, long, and on the edge of embarrassing as our hips notched together. Even through several layers of clothing I felt the long, thick ridge of him, and I bucked my hips, crazy with need.

  He stroked a hand down my side and over my hip, palming my ass with one hand to bring us into closer contact. “I’ll take care of you, Hannah,” he murmured.

  His mouth was just as hot, as potent, as sweet, but some of the urgency had dissipated. He drew wet, lazy patterns on my exposed skin with his tongue, dipping under the top of my tank, gently tugging the straps aside to free my breasts.

  The feel of his lips sealing around my nipple had my hips rocking against his, clit throbbing and seeking friction. Seeking relief. He sucked, swirling his tongue around the hardening point, biting down when it became so swollen it pulsed. I arched my back, clutching at his head and babbling incoherently.

  His head came up, dark fire in his eyes, and he went to work on the other nipple.

  My panties were sticking to me, nerves on high alert and begging for release. My hands scrabbled over his back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it this way and that. “Off. It needs to come off.” He sat back and yanked it over his head, and I pushed my tank down to my waist, reaching for him.

  He felt amazing against me. Like his skin would burn into mine, fuse us together. Mouths battling once more, his hand snuck up to plump my breast and thumb the nipple. I grabbed his hand and shoved it between my legs. That's where I wanted him. I was dying, inch by fiery inch.