Dear Readers,
Welcome back to another story. I'm sorry the chapters a short and teasing, but it is my hope to keep them coming regularly so the wait shouldn't be too long.
Thanks again to AlreadyTaken for her stellar help!
Enjoy!
Titania
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CHAPTER SEVEN
"Unhappy am I with all the powers I possess
'Cause girl you're the key to my happiness.
And I. Can't. Get. Next. To. You."
"Can't Get Next To You" The Temptations
It was the alcohol's fault. That was the only plausible explanation for why Alessa didn't pull out of Denny's arms as he murmured her name and dipped his head toward hers. It was the only reason she lifted her face in welcome. The only cause for the whimper she gave when a sensation warmer than the sun poured through her as his firm lips finally touched hers. Her last coherent thought was that she should have never drank so much.
Denny was joyously grateful for Alessa's momentary capitulation. In this one twinkling of time in which she had granted him his desire, he became desperate to seduce her, to imbue her with such great pleasure she would never want to leave him. He moved his mouth gently over hers at first, cognizant that she most likely didn't know how to kiss. He was cupping her face with one hand and cradling her head with the other, his fingers imbedded into her glorious hair rubbing her scalp.
Alessa was instantly lost in the sensations Denny's mouth and hands afforded her. It was the most natural movement in the world to follow the guidance of his mouth, and before long, his moving lips were parting hers so he could stroke her with his velvety tongue. The taste of another human made her gasp and then moan as she became an instant addict. Needing more, she answered his seeking tongue with an eager stroke of her own, whimpers of hunger filling her throat. Denny caught each one with his mouth.
The erotic sounds Alessa was making were like punches of pleasure straight into Denny's gut. He could feel the need blossom in his groin, and so pressed himself more tightly against her, desperate for pressure to relieve his ache.
Alessa responded by sliding her body sensually against his, mindlessly searching for more sensation. Denny's hands caressed their way down her lithe body until he was filling his hands with her firm bottom, using his grasp to rub her body against his. Her arms had trailed up his chest and were now clinging to him, pulling herself in tightly to mash her breasts against him.
Though Denny had only meant to give her a pleasurable kiss, what passed between them was like a flame of need and he was burning alive. Without much thinking, Denny turned them so he could press her against the wall, suddenly needing more than what a simple kiss could offer. One large hand guided a silky leg to lift, forcing her skirt to slide high up her thigh. Holding beneath her knee, Denny leaned into the junction of her thighs and pressed his arousal into her.
The whimper she gave turned into a moan, and Denny wanted to come when her hips began moving against him. He wasn't ashamed to answer her with small thrusts of his own and abandoned her mouth to move down her neck, craving the silky feel of all of her.
It was the cat call whistle of the two passers-by that caused Alessa to freeze with Denny's mouth buried against her neck. The giggles of the small group faded as they walked on, but the spell was already shattered. "Fuck," she heard Denny mutter into the crook of her neck, and then her hands were frantically pushing him away. She pulled her raised leg back and half twisted her body away from him. He reluctantly stepped back to give her space. She was running her fingers through her hair and wiping her mouth. She was breathing rapidly in an attempt to calm herself, though to Denny she sounded as if she were on the verge of hyperventilating.
He watched her, his haze of arousal evaporating as he tried to regroup and salvage what was left of the momentum of their kiss. But he could see her rapidly shutting down, her arms tightly around herself as she corseted up her fraying emotions. He knew in some estimations he had succeeded, that he had given Alessa the elusive pleasure she had claimed didn't exist in reality, but he also saw her shuttered expression, which mournfully conveyed he had failed to tear down the wall against intimacy she had spent years erecting around herself.
He took a step toward her, but when she took a quick step away, he paused, so much of his disappointed hopes suffocating his heart. "Don't be afraid of how you feel, Sweetheart."
She gave a harsh sigh, her arms still tightly wrapped around her. She felt submerged in a raging tempest, and wave after wave of desire and fear and regret and despair were capsizing her sanity, throwing her into a scrambling panic to survive the looming pain. "That was such a mistake," she declared, a quiver of strain in her voice laced with an edge of anger.
"Alessa, I don't regret kissing you," Denny stated confidently, refusing to agree with her.
"Well, I hope it satisfied you because you won't get another," she returned emphatically.
Denny took another step, not stopping this time despite how she momentarily cowered away again. He placed his warm palm on her cheek and turned her face to him. "I assure you, it came nowhere near satisfying me, and I can promise you, Sweetheart, I will get another." Denny wasn't prepared to let his pursuit end yet, but he knew she had had enough for one evening. "Come on," he coaxed gently, "let me take you home." He slipped his arm around her, and counted it a small victory when she didn't try to pull away.
But she did argue. "You don't need to take me home. Traffic will be murder for you. Just take me to my bus stop."
"Nope. I'm taking you home."
"Denny," she groaned, "I really don't think that's such a great idea."
"Alessa, shut up for once. I'm just going to make sure you get home safely. Nothing more. After the state I've put you in, it's the least I can do for you." By the end of his speech, they were back at his car. Neither said a word during the thirty minute ride across town.
She gave him directions to her home, and when he pulled up in the drive, though it was dark and only his head lights illuminated it, he commented on how nice it looked.
"Oh, this isn't my house. It's Mr. Cho's."
"Cho?" Denny asked a little confused. "You rent it from him?"
"No, he lives in his house. I rent the small apartment above his garage." As she pointed, Denny could just make out a two-story, detached garage at the back of the property. "One of my colleagues at the Asian Museum got me this place," she explained, eager to leave but desperate to avoid an awkward goodbye. "Thank you for dinner. I enjoyed the oysters." And then her door was open and she was out, not daring to look at him, not wanting to be tempted into another kiss.
Denny watched as she rapidly made her way to the stairs on the outside of the garage. When he saw her slip inside, he finally pulled out of the drive, his mind churning over the problem that was Alessa. He pulled out his phone, punched a contact and dialed. When a husky voice answered on the other end, Denny spoke. "Max, can we get together? Tomorrow night at eight is fine." And then he hung up, knowing if anyone could help him gain a little peace of mind, it was Max.
It took less than a minute for Alessa to drop her bag, strip off her clothing and submerge herself in her hot shower, the water streaming down her face mixing with her tears. Though she hadn't told him the whole of the truth, she had confessed more than she had ever wanted. And then, like a fool, she had allowed him to kiss her. But unlike the last time she had given a man a second chance to woo her, Alessa had completely lost herself in Denny's kiss that seemed to burn away all the insecurities in her soul. She experienced only drugging euphoria and none of the panic. And desperately, she felt hope that with Denny it could be different. But that hope was just as frightening as the disappointment of times past.
Why hadn't she realized she was too fragile just to kiss?
Alessa took some Ibuprofen, downed a glass of water and slunk into bed. She didn't allow herself to sob, but she couldn't keep back the hot tears of misery as she fell asleep under the heavy hand of the earlier-consumed alcohol.
