Say You’ll Stay Read online

  His gaze touched briefly her cleavage, and she felt it as surely as if it had been his finger trailing over the rise of her breasts. Her mouth quirked up as he glanced away, caught out. Then the air stopped in her lungs as he looked her directly in the eye.

  “I don’t know you. Not really. I’d like to though.”

  Alyssa tried to break contact but was instantly pulled back into the tractor beam of his attention. It was no mystery why he was catnip to women. “Let’s start with the basics. Seeing anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  Marc’s expression was so intense it was like being eye fucked over dinner. In front of her family. Her fingers trembled as she clutched her napkin. Alyssa inhaled and forced herself to let the edge fall. Then she met his gaze full-on. His met hers for a long minute. This time, he turned away.

  Better. Definitely an improvement. Maybe she was getting the hang of this flirting business at the ripe old age of twenty-seven. “Me neither.”

  “I heard you had a boyfriend.”

  “We broke up.” The words shot out of her mouth.

  His satisfied smile made her toes curl. “I heard that too.”

  “Really? How?”

  “Our moms talk. They always have.”

  “News travels fast.” Alyssa shot her mother a speculative glance.

  Everyone else sat down to dinner, all at once, like a flock of parakeets settling into a tree. Alyssa pushed a strand of hair behind one ear, her stomach too tight to enjoy the meal. Ham and pineapple, huge green avocadoes filled with red salsa, roasted corn, Moros y Cristianos, and shrimp sat wasted on her plate. Marc did not appear to be suffering the same stomach problems. He was a lot more practiced at this, but Alyssa refused to let the thought bother her. It was what she wanted, at least right now.

  “A toast.” Alyssa’s dad held up his glass. “To friends near and family from far, gathered to celebrate. To successes” —he nodded at Alyssa, and her soul shriveled at being publicly honored for nonexistent accomplishments— “and a bright new year to come.”

  Glasses clinked all around. Marc dropped his arm across the back of her chair. Alyssa leaned back, letting her hair slither across his forearm. In response, he dangled his fingers over her bare shoulder. There was only the briefest contact of skin, but it sent shockwaves through her entire body.

  “You gave up on the blonde, I see. What’s this style called? Something fancy…”

  “Balayage. New York blonde is high-maintenance. This is easier.”

  He pulled his hand away. “My favorite was when you first moved here and it turned gold from the sun.”

  What a line that was. She shouldn’t encourage it, but her mouth insisted on beaming at him with approval over her internal objections. “I don’t believe for one second you’ve ever noticed my hair color before, Marc De Luna. You’re an awful liar.”

  Marc reached over and plucked a piece of pineapple off her plate. “Scout’s honor. Every year, I wonder what color it’ll be when you come home to visit. Now that you’ve conquered the big apple, what’s next, Miss New York?”

  Alyssa loved it when he called her by the nickname, as if she was some sort of beauty queen. He’d teased her with it once before and she’d been tongue-tied for a week. Even now she missed a beat before responding, dryly.

  Conquered New York, my ass. “World domination, of course.”

  Something flared in his eyes at the word domination. “What’s it like? I’ve never been.”

  “To New York?”

  “Nope. Haven’t had any reason to go.”

  He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair and Alyssa shook her head a little, grinning. “Come visit me sometime. I can put you up in my luxurious two-hundred-square-foot apartment.”

  “So, your boyfriend really isn’t going to mind if I come crash on your couch?”

  He returned his arm to the back of her chair, and his finger stroked the curve of her bare shoulder. Alyssa wanted to rub against him like a cat.

  “No boyfriend, remember? But you wouldn’t fit on the couch. I can’t stretch out on it, and you’re five or six inches taller than me. You’d have to take the bed.”

  She took a sip of her drink and eyed the other people around table, hoping no one else had heard her highly suggestive words. Janelle and Julian were talking sports with their fathers, and Mrs. De Luna and Catherine were catching up on the latest neighborhood chitchat. No one was paying any attention to her and Marc. She could be bold and no one would notice. To a point.

  He chuckled, and the sound made a grin spread over her lips no matter how hard she fought to stay cool. Her heart rate picked up. She was doing this. Flirting with Marc, not standing there gawping while he lobbed overtures.

  “Consider it a promise.” He pulled his arm away from her shoulders and reached for her hand beneath the table. Long, warm fingers curled around hers. She ran her thumb over calloused ridges on his palm as a kaleidoscope of ideas about where he could put those rough-tipped fingers wheeled through her imagination.

  No wonder Marc was popular with the ladies. He knew exactly how to make you feel like the center of his universe, where anything was permissible. She dropped her left hand onto his knee and froze.

  Marc inhaled sharply. Maybe she’d gotten ahead of herself. If he’d had any doubts about what she wanted, surely he didn’t now. Alyssa swallowed when Janelle speared her with a what-are-you-doing scowl from across the table. Their families’ proximity was awkward, no doubt.

  “Let’s take a walk. We could check out the harbor. It’s not far,” he suggested.

  “Sure.” Good idea, putting as much distance as possible between them and their families. Alyssa tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll get a sweater.”

  On the sidewalk, silence stretched awkwardly between them. For the first block that was all right while they left their family homes behind, but by the second block nerves had choked Alyssa’s throat closed. Her foot began to ache the minute they were out of sight of the house. Alyssa shifted her weight to the ball and did her best not to limp.

  “Is your apartment really two hundred square feet?” Marc finally asked.

  “One hundred and eighty-eight, to be exact,” she replied, lunging for the verbal lifeline he’d tossed.

  He shook his head. “I’ve seen larger closets.”

  “I know. But it’s cheap by New York standards, and the location is good. Right by Central Park and close to two subways.”

  “I have apartments I rent out, but nothing that small.”

  “Rent out? You own them?” She’d heard something about Marc and real estate, but the De Lunas didn’t discuss money. Alyssa’s thoughts scattered as she tried to memorize his every movement. She’d never felt like this with Zach. Not once.

  Every few steps the backs of their hands brushed together, the space between them magnetized. Or their shoulders touched and her stomach flipped. Alyssa pulled her sweater tight over her chest and crossed her arms, not for warmth, for protection. From what, she wasn’t certain.

  Rushing into a fling with a guy you’ve nursed a crush on for the better part of a decade is impulsive, and you don’t do impulsive. But was it rushing if she’d known him since high school? Even if he saw her as easy, recently-dumped pickings, any time they had together was on loan from her real life. She shouldn’t waste a minute. Yet alone with him, her mind couldn’t stop cartwheeling ahead to consequences long enough to enjoy the experience.

  “Yeah, that was my drop-out-of-college strategy. Buy cheap real estate, flip it for a profit and reinvest the money in rentals for the long term. I’d rather work with my hands than sit in front of a computer.” Marc moved his arm to her waist. Every thought that he might not be into her scattered like a flock of starlings evading a predator. There was a word for it. Murmuration.

  Forget the damn birds.

  Alyssa leaned into him, partly to hide her limp. She could tell the wound had reopened from the way it throbbed. Sticky liquid sucked at her foot wit
h every step. But mostly because Marc’s body was so delicious. A thin layer of cotton was all that separated her fingertips from a six-pack waiting to be discovered. All she wanted to do was unwrap the Christmas gift she hadn’t expected to receive.

  4

  Marc suffered a rare moment of hesitation trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. With any other girl, he’d have been angling to go to her place by now.

  But this was Alyssa. She’d always been different. Aly’s kindness pulled everyone into her orbit. People just liked her: his mom, his dad, even his older brother, who rarely found much to like about girls. It was amazing New York hadn’t beaten that magnetic quality out of her. If anything, it was stronger now.

  Or maybe she’d dialed it up for him tonight. She’d been a total vixen at dinner, but since they’d walked out Aly had fallen back into her usual silence. It was frustrating to get a glimpse of her relaxed and then have her clam up again. What had he said wrong?

  These situations were why banter had been invented, but Aly never responded to that shallow shit. Until tonight, when she’d humored him for once. Now that she was talking to him, he wanted to push her to keep opening up. He didn’t have the first clue how to do that.

  “I’d forgotten about the pelicans.” The huge birds were gathered at the end of a dock. A few circled in front of the rising moon. Occasionally a dark shape would dive into the water with a silent splash. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to warm winters. It doesn’t feel like Christmas.”

  “It’s all I know.” Their conversation was nosediving. Fuck. He’d never had any idea how to talk to this woman.

  She was all talent and ambition, and while he’d been too lazy to finish school and had arranged his entire life to revolve around his sailing obsession. He’d been too focused on sex when he should have been studying. He’d outright wasted his parents’ investment in his education. It hadn’t hurt him. He’d managed just fine playing things his own way. Women came and went, and he’d never much cared how long they stuck around provided they left quietly. Yet he already dreaded Aly’s return to New York.

  Keep her talking. Better yet, kiss her. He’d waited ages for an opportunity, and he wasn’t going to waste it on small talk.

  Alyssa stopped, leaning gently against him. His arm fit perfectly into the gentle curve of her hip. He let his palm dangle against her body, imagining what it would feel like to hike up the skirt of her dress and pull her gorgeous leg around his waist and slide…

  Way too soon. Alyssa wasn’t just any girl. She had talent and ambition, especially compared to him, and was so far out of his league he shouldn’t even be playing the game.

  Now he had all that determination and creativity tucked under his arm, and damn if it didn’t come wrapped in a spectacular package. The lily was still tucked behind her ear, and he hadn’t forgotten the look on her face when he’d had the brass to make a crude joke in her parents’ foyer. Like she’d wanted to get started right there against the glass and marble console table next to the front door.

  He hadn’t thought she could hear him. When she’d glanced over her shoulder with questioning hazel eyes, he’d known for sure he had a shot with her.

  Finally. If he didn’t screw it up.

  He frowned. Alyssa was definitely favoring one foot. “Are you okay?”

  She limped over to lean against the wall. “I’m fine. Let’s pause here.”

  Alyssa leaned her forearms on the top of the iron wall. Her hair fell in a curtain over her shoulder and halfway down her back. He loved the cascade of thick strands, and one of his favorite fantasies was sinking his fingers into it while kissing her full-on. The things he’d daydreamed about doing to her over the years were too dirty and too numerous to count. Her generous lips curved upward, and all he could think about was them clasped around his dick.

  Marc walked over and placed his hands on either side of her. Big mistake. Alyssa’s gorgeous butt was now less than two inches from the center of his attention. All she had to do was stand up straight, and her body would be pressed against his from chin to knee.

  Which was exactly what she did.

  So much for not moving too fast.

  Marc inhaled a lungful of cool, salt-tinged night air. With it came a heady dose of Alyssa: the subtle combination of the scent of her hair, some whisper-light perfume, and, most intoxicating of all, the warmth of her skin. He lifted his hand to her shoulder and gently turned her to face him.

  She was still as his mouth his touched hers, firm and soft and sensuous. Unhurried, perfect. He forced himself to move slowly as she slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and around the back of his neck.

  Too fast. Marc had a fleeting notion of pulling back, but then she sighed and parted her lips, and there was no stopping.

  Somewhere behind them the music had started. They were alone on the walkway. Marc had been wanting to take handfuls of Alyssa’s skirt and shove them up around her waist ever since she’d bent over the railing. Now he ran his hand down her curves over her hip and gently grabbed a fistful of red floral print silk. Her skirt rose an inch, then another. Her legs were bare beneath her dress.

  Alyssa leaned back against the wall. Marc took the opportunity to kiss his way down her elegant neck, tasting the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat like a hummingbird’s wings. Lazily he traced a circle against her naked hip with his fingertips. He sank the fingers of his other hand into the silk of her hair, and found the delicate indentation at the base of her skull.

  Then he kissed her for real. Full-on, no holds barred, his tongue sliding past hers, lips open and shared breath. The way he’d wanted to for so long.

  Alyssa gasped and pressed hard against him. The soft rise of her breasts flattened against his chest. The hard pebbles of her nipples rubbed past his. If she was wearing a bra it didn’t provide much in the way of headlight dampening. Forgetting where they were and heedless of how quickly they were barreling forward, Marc slid his hand between Alyssa’s inner thighs. She froze.

  It was too much, too soon. But the dampness he found there was irresistible, pulling him forward despite common sense screaming at him to back off. He brushed one fingertip across her sex.

  Oh, mierda. He’d never felt a woman so aroused. He had no idea what to do. They stood there, foreheads pressed together, as he slowly withdrew his hand and smoothed her skirt over her hip.

  “The sex is going to be incredible.” He didn’t think he’d said it out loud until she nodded, her velvety skin rubbed softly against his in agreement.

  A man in skin-tight pink leopard-print shorts on roller blades shot into his peripheral vision. Marc and Alyssa turned away from one another like guilty teenagers.

  “Nice night for it!” the body-builder yelled.

  “You know, I’ve seen a nun on roller blades in New York, but nothing quite compares to him,” Alyssa said in an almost-normal voice. Marc watched her fingers tremble as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The lily had fallen to the ground. He picked it up and placed it back behind her left ear. She hadn’t moved from her perch against the wall, one hip cocked.

  Marc glanced down the length of her leg. A dark shadow pooled below her foot. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I am?” Alyssa glanced down. “I cut my foot on a piece of glass this morning before I left. It rubbed open a few blocks ago.”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “Don’t.” Alyssa placed one palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Please. It’s not serious. I’m only here for a week. Let’s not waste a minute of it. Take me to your place.”

  “We should wait until tomorrow, especially if you’re hurt.” Marc’s dick threatened to reach up and strangle him. It was very relieved to hear her next words. All of him was.

  “Absolutely not. Where can we get a cab?”

  He laughed, startled by her decisiveness. “Around here everyone gets a Lyft.”

  Alyssa pulled her phone out of the pocket of her sweater.
“What’s the address?”

  “You’re serious?”

  She peered over the top of her phone, eyes dark. “I am.”

  “Put that away.” Typing in the address was a surreal moment. “Two minutes.”

  Which he spent kissing her thoroughly. When the car pulled up, he scooped her into his arms. She yelped and wound one arm around his neck. Now he had ahold of her, and there was no way he was letting go. He’d figure out the rest of it later.

  * * *

  The car ride was short. They spent it making out in the back seat of the cab while the driver stoically ignored them. Alyssa let her fingers trail down the zipper seam of his jeans, feeling the swell of his body. The sex was going to be incredible. She’d fantasized for years about this, and she wasn’t about to back down. But… “Where the hell are we?”

  “You told me to take you to my place,” Marc said, scooping her into his arms again.

  Alyssa settled her arm around his broad shoulders. “Um, this is a marina.”

  He laughed, a throaty sound that did wicked things to her pelvic region. “I might be the only person in the world who’d tell you 188 square feet sounds luxurious, because I live on a sailboat.”

  “You live on a what?”

  “A boat.”

  “By choice?”

  Marc grinned. “That’s a complicated question. The short answer is yeah. I own four properties and I still choose to live on a boat. It’s cheap and better living with my parents.”

  “Show me.” Alyssa winced as her feet hit the dock. Marc jumped smoothly onto a white boat that looked like every other one bobbing silently around them. This, she had not anticipated.

  “Welcome to the Escape.” Marc reached out one hand. Alyssa took it and hopped over the six-inch gap between the dock and the deck. This comprised the extent of her nautical knowledge. Well, the word mainsail had once won her a 50-point bonus in Scrabble.

  “It’s beautiful,” Alyssa declared, her attention on Marc. It was nighttime, and she’d need considerable explanation before she could tell what differentiated it from the one floating a few feet away. No matter the venue, Alyssa had one thing on her mind: Marc naked. The sooner the better.