An Excerpt from "Alexander"
By Gwen Masters

“I've wanted this since we were kids,” he whispered.

His voice seemed to kick against my heart, sending it soaring. In one fluid motion he pulled me across the long seat and into his arms. His lips came down on mine and my hands curled into his dark hair in a haze of disbelief. This was my best friend, the man who knew all my secrets and fears, the man who knew me better, perhaps, than my own husband. His lips were warm and his mouth tasted of apple pie and cinnamon. My heart felt like it would burst when his tongue slid against mine.

I got more of a charge from kissing Alex than from the last hundred orgasms I had experienced at the hands of lesser men. Alex explored my mouth at his leisure, learning every contour as my hands made circles in his hair. Just kissing, with his arms around me, necking like we were kids again. I still hovered in a fog of pleasure and disbelief, as if fighting against waking from a pleasant dream. I was slowly realizing that this wasn't a dream: this was the real thing, and it was already better than any dream could be.

Alex deepened his kiss, his tongue stealing my breath. One hand slid up my side to cup my breast. I shivered at the first sweep of his thumb over my hard nipple, and moaned at his second caress. The sound was lost somewhere between us as he pulled my knee up and leaned down, turning me onto my back on the wide bench seat. I opened my eyes when I flattened my hands on his chest, discovering the feel of him with a greediness that stunned even me. My fingers found the buttons on his shirt and I stopped, looking at him for permission.

His blue eyes were dancing with a fire that I reveled in. Alex smiled down at me, the same smile I had seen countless times in the past, slow and teasing. “Be my guest,” he invited, then watched my hands as they worked down, freeing one button, then another and another. He shifted as I pulled the shirt out of his waistband, and I could feel his hard erection pressing against my thigh. I froze in wonder.

“Alex,” I said, because I had to hear his name, to confirm that this was the man with me. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes as he used one finger to trace the line of my jaw, my throat, the outline of one breast before flicking one button open with a deft move. I slid his shirt down his shoulders and ran my palms across his chest, my fingers tangling in the coarse black hair. How many nights had I dreamed of this in my sleep, later dismissing those nocturnal fantasies because he was my friend, my husband's friend, the one man that I could never do this with?

When he reared back and opened my shirt, I gasped at the thrill of him seeing my breasts for the first time. My nipples were so hard they hurt, and I watched his blue eyes skip across one, then the other, finally sliding his gaze up to lock with mine. He thrust against me gently, and I gasped aloud when I almost came right then. Alex didn't move again, just held himself hard against me, and I slid one leg up the outside of his thigh. My loins cradled him, my pussy already wet and soaking through my pants, and I saw his eyes widen when he felt the heat through his denim jeans. I rocked upward, once, twice, and Alex reached down to clamp his hand over my hip and hold me still.

“There's something you need to know,” Alex told me, his voice suspiciously shaky. But his eyes were clear and unashamed when he said, “I've never been with a woman before.”

The shock of his statement rolled through me. I must have heard him wrong. Even with all the men I had taken into my bed, all the impossible positions and role-playing, one fantasy had never been fulfilled. I had never taken a virgin. I didn't believe that there were any left out there. Alex watched emotion overtake my face, and he smiled.

“The time just wasn't right. And haven't had much luck with women. I didn't want to sleep with someone and then get hurt even worse when it ended,” he explained. I stared at him, my eyes again filling with tears.

“You can't do this, Alex. Not with me.” Those words were the hardest I had ever spoken. “You need someone pure, someone like you…I'm not, Alex. I'm not that person.”

Alex took my face in his hands. “Yes, you are. There are different kinds of purity, dear. What matters is what happens between you and me, not what happened between you and anyone else.” Alex wiped away hot tears that ran down my temples. “I want to share this with you.”

A wave of relief washed over me and I threw my arms around him, knowing he might regret this in the future, but so honored that he would choose me. Me, of all the women he could have had. Me, the one who wasn't worthy of this gift he was willing to give me. I started shaking when he lifted himself from me and opened the door, pulling me out behind him. I stood on weak legs and walked beside him, matching him step for step, up the worn steps of his porch and into the coolness of his house. He turned to me immediately, pulling my blouse down my arms and bending his head to kiss my throat.

Delicious little blasts of sensation radiated out from everywhere his mouth touched. I reached up to run my fingers through his hair once more, pulling him into me, holding him close while his tongue danced across my bare skin. His warm hands caressed my waist, then dipped down to slide my cotton pants a few inches down my hips. His tongue found my nipple and ran wet circles around it. I moaned, my head falling back. I was drifting in a sea of sensation quite unlike any I had known before, and the thought crossed my mind that this was a first in more ways than one…

Read the rest of "Alexander" in Gwen's Dances of Redemption, available soon!