She moaned, and her eyes shimmered, pupils dilated. A shade of pink stained her cheeks, flushing down her neck. He withdrew his cock one more time, already half gone from the lurking climax, and when he rammed into her, she caught his shirt in her hands, clasping it, creasing the fabric. She clenched her inner walls, contracting her body against his, then a vibration washed over her and passed into him. He groaned, driving deep into her as his hot load filled her.
His heart took its time to slow down. Aftershocks of pleasure traveled up and down his spine, and he had to face the obvious. Sex with Alexa wasn’t sex as he knew it—it was stronger and more powerful than he’d ever imagined. He carefully disentangled from her, helping her get on her feet. She wobbled a bit and leaned into him, unbalanced, but he grasped her waist and kept her upright.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
He wiped raindrops from her face, wishing for a hot towel to wrap her in. “It’s getting worse,” he said, after more thunder shattered the air with loud claps, closer to them. “Come inside.”
“These storms come and go,” she said, closing the door behind him. “Let me see what I can find in the props closet.”
“The props closet?”
She marched across the empty space and into the hall, until she reached a door across from her office. “Every time we have an auction, we match the virgin’s personality to the decor of the stage. And here’s where we keep some of the stuff.” She opened the door and he glanced at several shelves, crowded with party crap. Everything from cheesy boas to colorful wigs, high-end shoes, and more. Two large racks contained different costumes, some with a paper clip and a post-it note attached.
She headed to the back of the room and returned with a couple of orange beach towels. Smiling, she threw one at him, and he grabbed it, dabbing his shoulders and hair. “I forgot we still had these.”
His stomach contracted. What decor had they picked for Pamela? The intrusive thought broke the romantic spell and sent him back to reality. A weight sat on his shoulders, stiffening his muscles. He shouldn’t know—and he shouldn’t ask. The theme chosen to sell his dead sister’s virginity didn’t make a difference. He tasted bile at the back of his throat. It reminds me of why I’m here.
Alexa walked up to him, drying her hair with the towel. Awareness flickered far back in her baby blues, sobering her expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
He shook his head, looking away. “It’s okay. We needed towels.”
“Yes. Tomorrow, I’ll get Jackie up to speed and you can come in the morning and ask her whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
She shrugged. “You should probably go now.”
He glanced at her, disappointment cooling his internal temperature. “I was hoping you’d go with me. Maybe take a hot shower to make sure you don’t catch a cold,” he said, telling himself staying close to her would make sure she just didn’t disappear the next day. A lie he himself didn’t believe. Damn it. He wanted to be with her, even if temporarily—to explore this scorching pull to each other until they were both sated.
She upped an eyebrow, staring at him. “It’s okay. I’ll take my chances.”
“All right. I’m just saying, I haven’t checked in a hotel yet and—”
“And I’m sure you can find a presidential suite in the best one in town,” she said, leaving no room for discussion.
Chapter Nine
“Do you have any questions?” Alexa asked, after she filled Jackie in. She reached for her coffee, the second cup this morning. She hadn’t been able to sleep, thinking about how good Brooks had felt inside her, fucking her, filling her until she came and her entire being vibrated for him. How bad she’d felt when she’d refused to spend the night with him.
It had taken every fiber of her to deny his offer to sleep at her place, but she had to lift those protective emotional walls. Obviously, avoiding sexual relations with him was no longer on the table. But taking it to the next level would be beyond dangerous.
She didn’t need him to create any memories on her turf, not when he’d probably run the minute he got what he needed. He’d lied to her once, what would keep him from doing it again? And why wasn’t his betrayal enough of a deterrent? She’d fired people or cut them from her life for much less.
Jackie lifted her mug to her lips and took a long sip. “Wow. It’s a lot. I thought you wanted to see me to go over the male auction shenanigans. Boy, was I wrong.”
“That’s still in place, but I need you to tell me what you remember about Pamela.”
“Hmmm…” Jackie sat the mug on the desk, looking up at the ceiling. “Not much. We selected her because she had spunk and a Texan flavor. Remember we picked the cowgirl theme for her?”
“Yes,” she sighed, guilt clogging her throat. The confused look on Brooks’s face popped in her mind, squeezing her heart. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but pain had touched his eyes the minute he probably realized his dear sister had worn some of those props and costumes, too. I should have known. How would she? She had zero experience with relationships or dealing with men on an intimate level.
Her abuse had emotionally stunted her, and she’d pay that high price for the rest of her life. “What else do you remember?”
“I’ll go through my notes.”
“Good. Mr. Taylor should be arriving soon, and I don’t want him to wait.”
“I’ll be right back.” Jackie clutched her tablet and scurried out
