It never comes.
I’m more confused now than I’ve ever been. If he’s not married, why is he holding back? I can see he is struggling as much as me, and his naughty thoughts aren’t being encouraged by alcohol either. I’m certain the heady scent of lust doesn’t solely belong to me.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Anger fades from Alex’s face before he shakes his head.
“A semi-casual hookup?”
He continues shaking his head. “No, Rae. It’s nothing like that.”
I twist my lips to hide the sly grin I shouldn’t have before questioning, “What about a boyfriend?”
Alex glares at me, making me sticky enough for another shower. “I’m not gay.”
I know he isn’t; I’m just perplexed by why he looks at me as if he wants to devour me and curse the day he met me at the same time.
Realizing a woozy head won’t get me close to unraveling a man as complex as Alex, I slip between the sheets on his bed. I don’t know why I thought whiskey would be the answer to my confusion. I’m a cosmopolitan girl for a reason. Hard liquor causes a direct hit to my senses, making me more unhinged than usual.
“Is this bed even a double?” I grumble when my feet dangle off the mattress. I’m tall for a girl, but I’m still a few inches shorter than Alex. “How can you sleep in here? Your knees must be around your ears.” An alcohol-inspired giggle rolls up my chest. “Oh. Now it makes sense. Why let a woman please you when you can do it yourself?”
My faint giggle turns into full-blown laughter when Alex hooks my ankle to yank me to his side of the bed. He leans over me, bringing him and his six-feet-plus glorious body parallel with my suddenly aching frame. If he weren’t holding his weight off me with his elbows, vital parts of our bodies would fit together perfectly.
When our eyes lock, something changes between us. His gaze is hot enough to burn Satan and cold enough to freeze water. I don’t know how it is possible for him to have conflicting responses, but there is no doubt he’s torn.
I stare at him, doing my best to plead my case without words. My pleas will stop altogether if he’d just answer one of them—the most important one. The one thrumming between my legs.
My endeavor to seduce Alex without words is lost when he mutters, “Quit your whining. You’re not a baby. This is a bed. You sleep in it. That’s it.”
“Sleeping isn’t the only thing you can do in a be—”
He cuts off my sentence by pressing his finger to my lips. The zap of his touch could light the country for a week. “Sleep is the only thing you can do in my bed.”
If I could cross my arms over my chest, I would. Instead, I glare at him.Asshole!
He smirks as if he heard my inner monologue. Good. If his finger wasn’t glued to my mouth, I’d throw a few more choice words into the mix.
Believing he has me subdued, he returns to a standing position. He's discreet, but I don't miss his quick glance at my bare thighs. If I were a lady in waiting, I’d yank my negligee to a respectable level. Pity for all involved, I'm anything but modest.
Even more so when Alex murmurs, “Sleep, then in the morning, you can make me breakfast.” An arrogant wink finalizes his stone age statement.
“I’m not making you shit.” I sound like a spoiled princess. Rightfully so. I am one. My daddy treats Raquel and me as if we are royalty, so why shouldn’t every other man in our realm?
Alex continues speaking as if I never spoke, “Then, once you’ve cleaned up, we’ll go through the evidence Brandon gathered—together. If we put that big brain of yours to use, you might stop listening to its evil counterpart.”
I shouldn’t smile, but I do. Usually, it’s the guys who are accused of thinking with the head between their legs instead of the big one on their shoulders. This is the first time I’ve been accused of it. I like it.
When Alex gives me one final glance before heading for the door, the thrust of my lungs doubles. He's not being a bigoted pig because he's a narrowminded idiot stuck in the fifties. He knows there are only two options when it comes to tackling someone as defiant as me. He either fights me into submission or fucks me into it.
Before I can advise him I’d much prefer the latter, he mutters, “Goodnight, Rae.” His voice is mired with disappointment.
Not waiting for me to return his farewell, he exits his room without so much of a backward glance. I would go after him, but my limbs are weighed down by confusion. All I can do is stare at the tiny strip of flooring separating us. It is only a few feet in width, but it feels bigger than the ocean.
Chapter Sixteen
“Who did you say it was for?”
I scrub at my tired eyes while Brandon replies, “I used Isaac’s case file number on all correspondence. Technically, I’m not being insubordinate.”
