Alone With Alexa (An Erotic Romance) Page 2

  “You wanna go through some of the marshlands?”

  “Sure.”

  There were people up ahead in a canoe. I squinted into the distance, wondering if they were heading in our direction. Minutes later, they drew near, and Ryan said, “How ya doin’?”

  “Good, and you?”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  We passed them, entering the wetland area. The reeds came up on either side, blocking the view. Croaking toads and buzzing insects surrounded us, along with a cacophony of squawking birds. There was a smaller body of water up ahead, which was entirely secluded. Ryan paddled us into it.

  I stared into the brownish water. “Are there fish?”

  “For sure.” I sat on the floor of the canoe, leaning my head against the back of the seat, staring at Ryan, who held an oar. He wore a baseball hat, shadowing half his face. “We should talk.”

  I swallowed, suddenly anxious. “About what?”

  “The shower this morning.”

  “What about it?”

  “You shouldn’t walk in on people like that.”

  “I didn’t know you were in there.”

  “I had the water on, Alexa.”

  “Not when I showed up. I had…to pee.”

  “You have your own bathroom.”

  I shrugged. “It was an accident.”

  “You really should knock.”

  “I will. Sorry.”

  “I didn’t mention it to your mother, because I knew it would upset her.”

  I chewed my lower lip. “Yeah, probably.” He stared at me without speaking. I sat up, seizing a water bottle from the bottom of the boat. I unscrewed the top and had a sip. Fluid sloshed out, wetting my chest. His eyes followed the direction of the droplets. “Can I ask you something, Ryan?”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to see me naked?”

  His look sobered. “That’s hardly appropriate.” The paddle sliced through the water. “We should head back. Put your lifejacket on.”

  No! I don’t want to go back yet. “Can’t we hang out for a while?”

  He paused the motion, the paddle partially submerged. “I…guess.”

  “Do you want some water?”

  “Thanks.”

  I leaned in to hand him the bottle. He seemed tense, watching me suspiciously. It was almost as if being alone with me was making him nervous. I scooted closer. The canoe dipped from side to side. “There is something we should talk about,” I murmured.

  He cleared his throat, eyeing me warily. “Yeah?”

  “Mom’s birthday’s coming up. What will we get her?”

  The impersonal question relieved him, because his shoulders dropped slightly. “What do you think she’d like?”

  “Women love jewelry, don’t they?”

  “From my experience, yes.”

  “Did your first wife like jewelry?”

  This had surprised him. He blinked rapidly. “Julia loved jewelry.”

  “Are you sad she died?”

  “Alexa.”

  “I’m sorry. You never talk about her. I just wonder what she was like.”

  “Yes, she liked jewelry. Yes I’m…sad she died. Of course I am.”

  “Why won’t you talk about her?”

  “Alexa.” His expression looked pained. “There are some things that are very personal.”

  “Did you love her more than mom? Is that why you won’t talk about her?”

  “Jesus! What a thing to ask. No, I didn’t love her more than your mom. They’re both unique and individual women.”

  “What was she like? Did she like to travel? Did she make brownies? Did she make them for you?”

  He placed the oar inside the canoe and took the hat off, running his fingers through his thick, brown hair. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” He met my stare. “I’ve got photos on my computer, honey. I can show them to you later. We traveled a lot before she got sick. We went to Italy and Greece and Spain. She loved Europe. She loved the history and the architecture. Being an artist, she appreciated the museums. Yes, she made brownies, but she didn’t eat them a lot.”

  “She sounds like a nice lady.”

  “She was.”

  “Do you ever talk about her with mom?”

  “Sometimes. I don’t really like to dredge up the past.”

  “Mom’s so jealous of other women.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She’s jealous of me.”

  “What?”

  “I overheard you talking. She thinks you like me. She doesn’t like it when you stare at me. She thinks I flirt with you.”

  He squirmed on the seat, grasping the oar. “Get your life vest on. We’re heading back.”

  “Is it true?”

  “It’s not polite to eavesdrop on people. Go on. Get your oar. Help me row.”

  I moved to the other seat and grabbed the orange vest, thrusting my arms through the holes. “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

  He had his hat back on. “Sorry for what?”

  “Actually, I’m not sorry. I’m glad I saw you naked. You look really nice without clothes on. Who were you thinking about when you were in the shower? Was it me?”

  “Just row the fucking boat and shut up, Alexa,” he snapped.

  Bingo! He was thinking about me.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan avoided me for most of the next week, making sure we were never alone in the house together. If I happened to be in a room by myself, he would breeze in and then leave just as quickly. I didn’t mind, because at dinner, he was my captive. He typically sat on the other end of the table, and I would stare at him while he ate, which from the slightly tense expression on his face, bothered him. The conversation was mundane and neutral and slightly stilted, but that didn’t matter. Just being in the same room with him made my tummy tingle and my body reverberate with the sweet buzz of sensual recognition. When I was alone in bed at night, with my hand in my panties, rubbing myself, that’s when I let my fantasies run wild. Ryan had no idea, but he was my lover. He made me cum every night.

  Early Saturday morning Ryan and I were in mom’s car in the yet to be built area behind our house. When the economy was booming, the builders had planned this community, laying down roads and marking plots. When the Great Recession hit, construction halted overnight. All that remained were the roads. Ryan was teaching me how to drive, because I had put it off for far too long now, and it was not going well.

  “Let out the clutch slowly.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “You gotta do it slower.”

  I hadn’t been able to get into first gear. My attempts were rough starts and stops, followed by the car stalling. “Maybe I should drive the automatic?”

  “Your mother wants you to learn on a stick.”

  “I don’t know why. Most cars are automatic.”

  “I think she wants to give you this car, honey.”

  I sighed. “Shit.” The vehicle shook and then stalled. “I’m not good at this.”

  “Yes, you are. Now, put it in park, and try again.”

  I had a horrible habit of stomping on the brake, which made the car shudder to an abrupt halt, forcing Ryan to brace himself on the dashboard. After ten or more of these jerking maneuvers, I swore he had turned green.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. Am I making you sick?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh, Ryan,” I giggled. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna barf, aren’t you?”

  “Let’s give it another try. Put it in park, and start again. Okay?”

  “I’ll try.” I turned the key, and nothing happened. “It won’t work.”

  “Is the clutch in?”

  “Oops, forgot that.”

  “Put the clutch in.”

  “Okay, here goes.” The engine turned over, the car vibrating lightly.

  “Now first gear. With the clutch in.”

  “Got it.”
>
  “Great.”

  “Now what?”

  He gave me a look. “Give it gas, and slowly let the clutch out.”

  I followed these instructions, and to my amazement, the car began to move, although it shuddered slightly. “Omigod!” Excitement raced through me.

  “That’s great.” He sounded relieved.

  I gripped the steering wheel. “What now?”

  “Follow the road.” My movements were jerky and less than confident. Ryan’s hand was on the door handle. “Give it a little more gas, honey.” My foot pressed the pedal a touch too aggressively, and we charged forward. “Easy.”

  “What do I do now?”

  “Follow the road. Let’s get you used to first gear before we—”

  “Oh shit!” Instead of following the turn in the road, I drove straight off and into the dirt.

  “Stop! Stop!” I slammed on the brakes, sending out a billowing puff of dust all around us. “Jesus. Put it in park.” He undid his seatbelt and got out, with a hand over his mouth.

  “Ryan?” The sound of vomiting reached my ears. Oh, no. I grabbed a box of tissues from the back seat and joined him. The contents of his stomach were now at his feet. “I’m so sorry.” I gave him the tissues. “Are you okay?”

  “I think…maybe that’s good for today. You drove…for a while.” He wiped his mouth.

  I felt horrible for making him sick. I hugged him, and he stiffened slightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sick. You smell like puke, by the way.”

  His arms went around me, his posture relaxing. “Why can’t I be mad at you?”

  “Cause you like me.”

  “Of course I like you. You’re my future stepdaughter.” He tried to step away, but I held on tightly, enjoying the warmth of his body. “Let’s head back, honey.” He took my arms and removed them from around his midsection. “I think I’ll drive, if you don’t mind.”

  I was now in the passenger seat, waiting for him to return. He got in and closed the door. “Here’s some water.” I handed him a bottle.

  “Thanks.”

  “You feeling better?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe I should learn how to drive the automatic, and then I can learn the stick?”

  He met my gaze. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “I’m sorry I almost killed you.”

  His smile transformed his face. “You didn’t almost kill me, Alexa.” He ruffled my hair. “You did pretty good, all things considered.”

  “Maybe next time you should take some Dramamine.”

  “Probably,” he laughed.

  Ryan and I shared a pizza that night, because mom was down the street playing her monthly Bunco game with the neighbors. We sat on the sofa watching an episode of Two and a Half Men. I had made chocolate covered strawberries earlier, and I went to the fridge to get one.

  “Bring me a beer?”

  “Yeah.” I returned with the bottle.

  “Thanks.” He eyed the strawberry. “That looks good.”

  I bit into it, enjoying the tart sweetness of the treat. “Yum.” He took a sip of beer, eyeing me. “You want some?” I pressed the chocolate covered fruit to his lips. “Open up.” He closed his mouth around it and chewed. “You bum. You ate it all.” I slid from the sofa. “The next one’s mine.” I retrieved two more from the fridge and returned, scooting closer to him. I wore shorts, exposing slim, tanned legs. “It’s good isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Want more?” I bit into the side of the plump strawberry.

  “You have chocolate on your cheek.”

  “So will you.” I touched the fruit to his upper lip, making a mess.

  “Alexa!”

  “You dirty eater,” I giggled. “Lemme lick it off.” Before he could object, I ran my tongue over him, tasting chocolate and inhaling his breath, which hinted of beer and strawberries. I’d stunned Ryan with this move, because he froze. Only his chest moved, with the rise and fall of his breathing.

  “Alexa.” There was a hint of warning in his tone, which I ignored.

  “You want more, don’t you?” I held the fruit to his lips. “Open up.” He ate the offering.

  Being this close to him was always thrilling, my body buzzing distractingly. He had been avoiding me all week, and I had not made it easy on him, deliberately walking around with only a towel on a few days ago. My burgeoning female intuition told me that, if I continued to dangle the carrot, he would give in to me. He was close tonight. I could feel it.

  He swallowed visibly. “I think that’s enough now.”

  “Have some more.” I brought the fruit to his mouth, but he grabbed my wrist.

  “I…no, honey.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

  My eyes were wide, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  I scooted closer, my thighs brushing his knees. His shorts had begun to bulge in the crotch area. “You have chocolate on your lip.” This was a blatant lie, but I didn’t care. I leaned in to lick him, but he held my face.

  “You have to stop this, Alexa.”

  I was so close I could see the lighter flecks of blue in his eyes. “Won’t you kiss me?” I had thrown all my cards on the table. “Just a little kiss? No one would have to know.” A range of emotions passed over his features. I recognized lust, fear, pain, and need, among many others. He was struggling with himself; the hands that held my face trembled slightly. He was right on the edge of losing control. “Please, Ryan. I like you so much.” I leaned into him, and he didn’t stop me; my lips touched his. He wrapped his arms around my back drawing me onto his lap, as his tongue entered my mouth. I sat on his erection, the hard mass pressing into my bottom.

  He moaned, “No.”

  My fingers threaded through his hair, feeling the silky strands. “Oh, Ryan.” His beard scratched me, but I didn’t mind. He smelled of musky maleness with a hint of cologne and beer. His breath was warm, as his tongue invaded, slick and persistent. I’d never been kissed before, so this experience left me panting and dizzy, my pussy throbbing, dampening my underwear. I squirmed over his lap, pressing myself against the hard lump beneath me, which only added to the distracting buzz in my lower anatomy.

  “Oh, God, Alexa…”

  His hands were under my shirt, massaging my back, the hooks of my bra coming undone. He grasped the material, lifting it over my head, exposing my chest entirely. I was stunned for a moment, never having been topless like this before in the presence of another person, but the look in his eyes had me melting. He grasped my face, kissing me hungrily, moaning deep in his chest. I found myself on my back suddenly; his hands were on my breasts.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Don’t stop.” My voice sounded breathy.

  “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  Kisses landed on my cheeks, chin, and neck, while he pressed the globes together. My achy flesh enjoyed the sensual massage. He pinched the nipples gently, while kisses fell to my neck and lower, closing in rapidly on the hardened tips. He suckled a nipple, and the sensation was so decadently wicked, I arched my back, pressing them into his face. I cradled him between my thighs. My panties felt like I had peed myself; I was so wet.

  “Oh, Ryan.”

  He laved each nipple, sucking and biting gently, leaving me trembling and nearly mad with lust. My fingers were in his hair, massaging his scalp, which felt hot, as if he were on fire from the inside. All of my dreams were coming true tonight. I’d wanted him for more than a year now, and here he was, in my arms, kissing me, touching me. It was everything I thought it would be and more. His hand was on my tummy, which trembled ever so slightly. He slid further, to the edge of my shorts and then under the elastic into my panties, where he dipped into my wetness. His lips were on my neck, and hi
s breath was in my ear.

  “God, you’re wet, honey.”

  “It feels so good, Ryan.” A long finger slid over the swollen lips of my labia, pressing into my little hole. I lubricated him thoroughly with my feminine juices. He moved easily, rubbing my clit. The sensation was so stimulating; I gasped and lifted my hips. “Oh!” My fingers sank into the firm flesh of his shoulders, feeling the muscles rippling underneath. “Don’t stop.”

  He kissed me, seducing me with his tongue, until sparks burst behind my eyelids and the world seemed to tilt. This was so much better than how I imagined it would be. His finger stroked me, over and over, gathering bundles of erotic energy, which collected in my core. I thrust my hips up, pressing myself against his hand, while he drove deeper into my virginal tunnel, filling me completely.

  I gasped, sucking on his tongue, knowing that I was going to lose control. “Ryan!” I shuddered, tumbling over the cliff into the arms of bliss, my body convulsing around his finger. The pad of his thumb pressed into my clit, intensifying the sensation. “Omigod…” I sounded stunned, yet happy, but it was all too much. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close, while his hand stilled; his finger was deep inside of me. “That was so nice.”

  “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  I glanced at him. “No. No regrets.”

  He wiped a tear away from my cheek. “This can’t happen again.”

  “No. Don’t say that—”

  “Hello!” The front door slammed. “Hope you saved some strawberries for me.” It was mom.

  I jumped from the sofa, tossing the t-shirt over my head and stuffing the bra between the seat cushions. Ryan grabbed the beer bottle. We sat quickly, more than two feet apart, I holding a pillow to my chest, while mom appeared in the doorway.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hi, mom.”

  She held a pretty glass vase. “Look who won the twenty-dollar prize at Bunco.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  She smiled. “You two look cozy.”

  “We’re just watching TV, waiting for you,” said Ryan, who had crossed his legs, his right ankle resting on his left knee.

  I suspected his erection had yet to abate. “We had some chocolate covered strawberries.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat, suddenly finding the situation amusing.