It's wrong and he knows it.
Even if she's dark and twisty, she seems to have mastered the whole domestic thing. She knows when to laugh at his bad jokes and when to stroke his bruised ego. She may even know exactly how to pour his drink, but she's always been able to handle alcohol- hers and his – long before she started doing the domestic thing.
Being wrong has never stopped him though.
There's a sparkle in his eyes that he's always noticed but the stupid Christmas lights seem to accentuate it. The way she wrinkles her nose is more pronounced, the gold of her hair causes his fingers to ache. He pictures his hand wrapped around it, tugging gently. The red sweater she's wearing hugs her petite waist perfectly and dips low enough that it would normally make him wonder what color her bra is but it's just thin enough to tell him that she isn't wearing one.
Her fingertips play against the wood of the entryway, some stupid green shit hanging over her head and she's saying his name like she knows what he's thinking about.
"You've drank too much of that eggnog," he observes, his own voice a slight slur.
Meredith laughs, the sparkle in her eye mischievous, "And you haven't?"
As if drawn by gravity, Alex follows the sweet sound of her voice until he's standing with her beneath the mistletoe, "There," he says, his voice a near growl, "I'm here. What do you want?"
"You know what I want."
"I'm not getting you another drink," Alex answers, trying one last time to be good. She's happily committed to somebody. He refuses to say married because he's been married and he knows that getting out of that clusterfuck is a hell of a lot harder than shredding some stupid office supply.
He tries to forget that it doesn't really count as adultery if there's an office supply involved.
"That's not what I want," she answers, putting her arms around his neck and crushing her lips to his.
The good part of Alex, the part that's been tamed by his time in Seattle, the one that has a heart and all that crap, he wants to pull away. He wants to ask her what the hell is wrong and what Shepherd did this time.
Alex tells that part to shut the hell up and he grasps her hips and pulls them hard against his, letting her feel exactly what she's done to him. When she whimpers, he presses harder into her, pushes her tiny body against the frame of the door.
She gasps against his lips, whispers his name pleadingly until he's pulling at the button of her pants and struggling with her zipper. He's not taking her up to her bedroom because the wall is just as good (if not better) than her stupid bed. Alex tugs her pants down, works on his own while she tears off her sweater.
Easily, he lifts her in his arms, rubs his erection against her while his lips attack the flesh of her neck and then moves down to her chest. His fingers tease her clit, pinch and pull at it just because he loves the way she shudders in his arms when he does it.
When her fingernails dig into his flesh, he pushes inside her. Her tiny frame, her tight heat isn't enough to resist the force behind his hips. He withdraws and slams back inside her, pushing himself all in until she's crying out and raking those nails across his back.
He can tell by the way she's reacting that Shepherd is hung like a pre-pubescent kid.
What's the point in staying with someone like that?
Over and over, he drives into her, her nails tearing at his flesh, dragging it away in thin peels and he doesn't give a fuck because as much as it hurts, it feels good too. His lips close over her breast and he sucks and licks, bites until she tightens around him almost to the point where he can't move. It slows him down a bit but it doesn't actually stop him.
And when he keeps going, she cries out his name and he can hear her falling apart. He raises his head to see the tears in the corner of her eyes and he'd flash her a smug grin except he's fighting to hold it together so he drops his head against her shoulder and slams into her harder. He's determined to get her off one more time before he lets go.
Bracing her tiny body against the wall, he uses one arm to keep her steady and drops the other hand between them to rub her roughly. She fights against him but he holds her tighter, grunts with each thrust against her shoulder until she dissolves around him in a string of cursewords.
Alex spasms inside her and takes a moment to still his hips. He's struggling to catch his breath when he hears the sound of somebody clearing their throat behind them and he lifts his head, casually glancing over his shoulder to see Shepherd behind him.
There's some smug look of curiosity on his face, some sort of a challenge and he looks back to Meredith who's wearing a 'fuck you' sort of grin. Alex smirks and kisses her exaggeratedly because he can before he lets her down to the ground, tugs his pants up around his waist and walks past Shepherd wordlessly.
He needs to add paper shredder to his Christmas list for Meredith.