The Distraction (11 page)

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Authors: Sierra Kincade

BOOK: The Distraction
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He kicked his skinny legs harder.

“Jacob?” I prompted.

“Jail, you mean,” he said. “With my dad.” The way he paled at the mention of his father made me want to bring the kid home with me.

“Not jail,” I said. “Just a different kind of home.”

“Bullshit,” he said again.

“You like that word, don't you?”

“It's
jail
,” he insisted. “I'm not stupid, you know.”

I tried to focus on the positive, for his sake.

“Hey, it's not all bad,” I said. “You get to see Sammy more often. Every day after school. You get to eat dinner with her if you want. You just have to sleep at different houses.”

He stared at the floor. “She needs me.”

What he wasn't saying was just as clear as if he'd spoken the words out loud. If someone hurt his sister as their father had, Jacob wouldn't be there to protect her.

“Let me try to fix this,” I said, strengthened by Alec's words from last night. If he could do it, maybe I could, too. “I'm not giving up.”

“Whatever.”

“Until then,” I continued, “you've got to be strong, all right? Sammy's going to be scared if she sees you scared.” I'd seen her in the courtroom—six years old and eyes as round as saucers. They had the same heart-shaped face and skinny build, but her skin was a couple of shades lighter than Jacob's. It made it easier to see the bruises on her arms and neck that hadn't yet faded.

“Can you do that?” I asked. “She's waiting to see you now in the kids' room.”

It took a while, but he finally pushed off the bench and plodded down the hall the way we'd come. He didn't say another word to me, not even good-bye.

Fifteen

D
usk was just turning to dark as I stormed into the lobby of our apartment building. I didn't have to look far for Alec; he was at the security desk with Mike. They were laughing about something, and the low, happy sound of his voice chipped away some of the ice left from my time at the courthouse.

When Alec saw me, he stilled. The laughter died on his lips as his gaze roamed lower, to the tie that hung loosely around my neck. The warmth in his dark eyes was immediately replaced by hunger, and for a few beats of my heart I could do nothing but concentrate on my own breathing.

His work pants showed both the swell of muscles in his thighs and the long length of his legs, and the gray thermal, scrunched up to the elbows and perfectly fitted over his tight abdomen, made him look more like a male model than someone doing manual labor. My gaze fixed on his collar, and I had the sudden urge to pull down the neck of his shirt, and lick that sexy little
V
at the base of his throat.

“Anna!” Mike closed the distance between us, an obvious attempt to reach me before Alec. Not that Alec was making any move to approach. He was only staring, and waiting, like a lion preparing to pounce.

“Hey Mike,” I said, mouth dry as my fingertips ran absently down the length of the tie to where it ended, just below my belly button. Alec's gaze followed my hand, and my pulse sped up another notch as his thumb began to tap against his thigh.

I would have him. Soon. How I had survived without him for three months seemed impossible. He was as crucial as water and I was getting thirstier by the second.

Mike reached for my hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I wouldn't,” Alec warned him in a low voice that made my stomach quiver.

His friend paused, the back of my hand just inches away from the broad smile that broke across his handsome face. He had perfect teeth, I noticed. Bright white and straight, like he could have been in a commercial for toothpaste.

In one smooth motion, Mike turned to face Alec, who was looking dangerously possessive, and tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow. Clearly, he wasn't intimidated.

“So you didn't tell him.” With a sigh, Mike's gaze rose to Alec's. “Look, man, you were gone a long time. A woman like this has needs.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “What's that supposed to mean,
a woman like this
?”

Mike gave me a suggestive look that traveled down to my toes and back up. For one second, one flash of a moment, I wondered what it would feel like to be pressed between these two beautiful men. Alec facing me, his tongue in my mouth and his cock in my cunt, while Mike fondled my breasts from behind. I could almost feel the heat from his flawless dark skin as he rocked against my ass.

Maybe it was longer than a second.

“I'm well aware of her needs,” Alec said, stalking closer.

I choked, and tried to hide it in a cough.

“Then you should know that someone had to keep her satisfied,” Mike said.

“I kept myself plenty satisfied just thinking about Alec,” I told him.

Mike's mouth fell slack. I smirked. Alec chuckled softly.

“You did?” Mike asked weakly.

I cupped one hand around my mouth and whispered, “It's because he's got such a huge co—”

“Bye, Mike,” Alec said, pulling me toward him. His fingers wove through mine as he led me toward the elevator.

“Sure,” Mike called after us. “No problem. I'll just sit down here all by my sexy self. Think about ice-cold showers. And celery. And those nasty eyes on old potatoes.”

“Poor guy,” I said as we entered the elevator.

“How big are we talking?” yelled Mike as the doors closed.

As soon as we were alone, Alec lowered his face to mine and kissed me. His lips were strong and demanding and I yielded, allowing him to take the lead. Hand wrapping around the tie, he pulled me closer, but before we could get too carried away, his mouth softened, and slowed, leaving me off balance while my heart raced onward.

“You have to take this off,” he said gruffly. He pulled the tie over my head and stuffed it into his pocket.

My cheeks began to glow. “You don't like it?”

“Fuck,”
he muttered. “All I can think about is you riding my cock wearing nothing else.”

I smiled, and walked my fingers up his chest.

“Is that a problem?”

He glanced at the red glowing numbers above the door. We'd only just passed the twentieth floor, and he lived on the thirty-fifth.

“Something's wrong,” he said. “I saw it on your face when you walked in.”

Deflated, I slouched against the railing, feeling guilty for letting Jacob slide from my focus so quickly. Not that there was anything I could do about it right now.

“Let's talk about it later,” I said. “I'd much rather ride your cock wearing nothing but that tie first.”

He grimaced. “You're making this difficult.”

“What?”

“I . . .” The elevator dinged and we stepped into the empty hallway. “I want you to tell me things. However you can.”

I felt a little embarrassed then, because I knew he was referring to last night, which was wonderful in the end, but only after some really ugly moments—moments that were a result of us avoiding certain conversations.

“That's fair,” I said.

As we entered the apartment and got settled, I explained to him what had happened with the judge—how I felt Jacob's risk of running was increasing the longer I couldn't secure a placement with his sister.

Alec listened closely, a scowl fixed on his face. It made me feel a little bit better that he was genuinely upset on my behalf.

“And there's nothing you can do?” he asked.

“Not until a new placement opens up,” I said. “I asked his caseworker to move him to a high priority list, but I doubt anything will come of it. The system continues to thrive on its brokenness.”

We were in the kitchen, and he lifted me by the waist and set me on the countertop. His fingertips drew circles on the backs of my calves, distracting me from everything but the heat shooting up my legs.

“Good to hear that not much has changed,” Alec said cynically. “Things could be worse, you know.”

Jacob could still be in his father's care. Or he could be strapped with the prospect of losing his home and being forced to sell drugs, like Alec had.

“I know.” I kicked my heel against the cabinet below, but stopped myself when I realized Jacob had been doing the same the last time I'd seen him.

At least foster care was temporary. Soon we would know if Jacob's parents had lost custody, and if so, we would look at pre-adoptive homes. It would be hard to place two children instead of one, but I would make sure the adoptive families took my concerns into consideration. Jacob and his sister deserved a second chance, just as I had been given.

“I need to call my dad real quick,” I said.

Alec's brows lifted. “Sure.”

He pushed off my knees and left the kitchen, giving me privacy. Quickly, I pulled my cell phone from my purse, and hit the second speed dial number. My dad picked up on the first ring.

“Anna? You all right?” The worry in his tone made my insides twist.

“I'm fine, Dad.” I took a deep breath. “I love you. I just wanted to tell you that.”

He sighed.

“I love you, too, honey. Anna . . .” He hesitated. “Things with me and your mom, they weren't perfect.”

I rubbed my thumb between my eyebrows. I wished I could take back the last thing I'd told him on the phone. Even if it was true, I'd said it out of spite.

“You always seemed so happy,” I said.

“Things were tough in the beginning.” There was a clicking noise on his end, like he was tapping something against a table. “Someday maybe I'll tell you about it.”

This surprised me; my dad had always been an open book. When I'd come to him, I'd been so full of secrets, I didn't know what I could say and what I couldn't. He'd made it easy: anything and everything was open for discussion. But now I wondered if there was something he'd been hiding.

He didn't ask about Alec, and I didn't offer anything. But as the seconds ticked by I could sense we were both thinking about him.

“I'm volunteering for CASA,” I blurted. My dad knew the program—he'd worked with them when he'd been a detective. “I've got this kid who's in bad shape, and I'm trying to petition for a new placement but the judge has tied my hands.”

Another hesitation.

“Well, you could always do what I did,” he said.

I laughed, feeling the tension in my chest ease some. “What? Adopt him?”

“It worked out all right for me.”

I smiled. “I've got to go.”

“Sure. Mug and I want to get back to our movie anyway.” The mention of his Great Dane—the biggest lapdog in the world—made me feel both better and worse. I loved that he wasn't alone, but I wished he had someone who would talk back to him.

“I'm proud of you, Anna.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Alec returned to the kitchen as I hung up. He'd taken off the thermal and was wearing a tight undershirt that gave a full view of his muscular shoulders. Hard lines defined his triceps, which flexed as he reached for a glass in one of the high cabinets. My mouth instantly began to water.

“Do you want kids?” he asked. Casual. Calm. Not even looking at me. He must have overheard my conversation with my father.

“Now?”

He smirked. “How's your dad?”

“Do
you
want kids?” I asked as he filled his glass with water from the sink.

“Sure,” he said. “Some of my own. Some adopted, maybe. We'll see.”

“You want to adopt.”

His face became serious. “Only the ones who had it really rough.”

“Well, that's all of them,” I said quietly. Adoption wasn't something most people were comfortable with. They wanted to look down and see their own reflection, and I didn't blame them. But that left a lot of us all alone.

His face cracked into a smile again. “Then we'll have to get a bigger place.”

“How many are we talking, here?”

He took a sip. “Twelve. Thirteen. What sounds good to you?”

I sputtered a laugh. He was kidding. He didn't really want twelve kids. But the thought of having any kid with Alec, especially one who was adopted like me, brought on a warm and fuzzy kind of panic. I never talked about things so far in the future, not even with Amy.

“You know what you need?” Alec said, looking amused.

“What's that?”

He turned to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door, where eight different variations of vanilla ice cream beckoned to me from the shelves.

“Sex,” he said.

“That looks like ice cream.”

He grinned over his shoulder at me. “It looks like foreplay.”

I giggled. “
That's
why it's shelved next to the condoms. It's all making sense now.”

He removed a carton of French vanilla. “Spoon?”

I spread my legs and pointed down. He set the ice cream beside me on the counter and gently set my legs even wider, rubbing his thumbs over the insides of my knees. There was no hiding my response to his touch; even if I'd tried to play coy he would have felt my body tense.

He reached between and opened the drawer.

Removing one silver spoon, he slid the drawer closed and eased between my thighs. I reached for his shirt, knuckles against his rigid abs.

He opened the ice cream, scooped out a spoonful, and fed it to me, letting the frosty metal linger on my lips. I closed my eyes. The cold contrasted with the heat of his body between my thighs. It occurred to me somewhere in the back of my mind that my day had been filled with polarity, and that he was somehow tying it all together.

His lips pressed against mine softly. His tongue prodded my mouth open, and soon I tasted Alec and vanilla. Fire and ice. I groaned, my senses coming alive as his fingertips wove through my hair.

With one hand lowering down my back he took his first bite, and then with the cold cream in his mouth kissed my neck. His lips were still scalding, but his tongue was cool enough to make me shiver. My arms snaked around his shoulders, just as my ankles latched around his hips, and I inched closer, forgetting everything but the way he made me feel.

He took another bite, then pulled my shirt over my head.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, sliding my bra strap off my shoulder. “Sweet and spicy.”

He pushed down the cups of my bra, my breasts spilling free into his warm hands. His mouth made a slow line down, and the cold on his tongue made me gasp as he swirled it around one hard nipple. I would end up a sticky mess, but I didn't care. I grabbed his short hair in my fists, holding him close while he moved to the other side. He knew just how to touch me—just the right pressure to drive me insane.

“Put the tie back on,” he murmured, pushing me back onto my elbows. My stomach flexed as he retrieved the blue silk from his pocket, and kissed the sensitive place just over my rib cage that made it hard to focus.

I placed it over my head while he reached beneath my pencil skirt and inched my panties down my legs. Everywhere his fingertips touched burned, but the silk felt heavy and cool. He watched me carefully, gaze lingering over my breasts. My nipples ached, skin alighting with goose bumps under his scrutiny. The clarity in his eyes, the raw need, infused me with excitement.

He was going to take me right here on the countertop.

Carefully, he rotated his wrists, winding the sides of my panties around his fingers. I heard a seam pop. Then another. The taut fabric tightened around my thighs. Knowing he could rip them excited me. Knowing he was taking his time made me crazy.

Another seam popped. Growing impatient, I reached for his belt, but he leaned just out of reach, still holding my legs in place by the twisted fabric.

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