Alex’s sober eyes bounce between mine. He reads the eagerness, determination. . . and unfortunately, the glassiness in my wide gaze.
“How about we get some nutrients in your belly to absorb the slosh in there—” He presses his finger to my lips when I attempt to interrupt him. “Then. . .” he keeps me hanging long enough I’m on the verge of sobriety before suggesting, “. . . we’ll discuss the possibility of fixing your dilemma.”
“No deal.” I shake my head. “I’m notdiscussinganything.” I air quote part of my statement. “What is there to discuss? I’m horny. You have a cock—a very stupendous one—and I want it in my mouth. No discussions needed.”
“Rae. . .” He sounds as if he is in pain. “Fuck me. You can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Why not?” My question is so loud, I swear half the continent hears me.
“Because you’re drunk.”
I furiously shake my head, adding to the giddiness clouding it. “I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy, quite possibly on my way to being drunk, but I’mnotdrunk. Not yet, anyway.”
He smirks, more amused by my tirade than angered by it. “You haven’t eaten since the plane. Your dad will kill me if you live off olives for another night.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll kill you just for the naughty thoughts streaming through my head.”
Alex scoffs. “So I’m to blame for your depraved mind?”
He stands, taking me with him. I wait for him to place me onto my feet before nodding. “As far as my daddy is concerned, I was a good country girl before the city-slickers had their way with me.”
I said my comment in jest. Alex didn’t hear it that way. “Had their way with you? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shouldn’t love the jealous possessiveness in his tone, but I do. “You know what city folks are like when they have a naïve, country girl in their midst.” I scrape my fingernails across his chest that is suddenly thrusting hard. “They take advantage.”
Grinding teeth sound through my ears before he demands, “Give me names, Rae, and I guarantee the only things they’ll take advantage of are the hours their cellmates are sleeping.”
Even though the raw aggression in his tone kickstarts my libido, it isn’t strong enough for my hazy brain to miss the vital point in his confession. He just admitted he has the ability to detain criminals. If that isn’t a critical clue to his real job description, I don’t know what is.
“Wanna protect me, big boy?” I giggle, weakening the angry lines staining his gorgeous face.
“More like wanna kill for you.”
His comment is missing the playfulness of mine. He’s being one hundred percent honest, making me suddenly fretful for the person stalking me. If Alex is right, and Danielle isn’t the only one wanting to hack my private parts into pieces, they better hope the authorities find him before Alex does, or he might not get out of this situation alive.
“How about we save the body maiming until after we’ve eaten?”
Grateful for the invisible white flag I’m waving, Alex stops flexing and unflexing his fists. “Are we eating in or out?”
I shrug. “Depends.”
He shadows me out of the bar, slicing the curious glances directed our way from half a dozen to just a few. “On what?”
I stop halfway down an elegant hall. It has all the pretty knickknacks you’d expect at any high-end B&B; there is just one difference: there are dozens upon dozens of personal photos scattered throughout.
“On if you brought a change of clothes. I’m not going anywhere that sells food with you looking like that.” I fake a gag as I drag my eyes down his frozen frame.
My pulse thrums when I take in his casual T, faded dark blue jeans and sneaker-covered feet. His laidback look should have my libido crawling back into the hole it only found its way out of days ago, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, Alex rocks the casual look.
His hair is spiked at the front from his fingers constantly running through it, and his beard isn’t the only thick thing on his body. His biceps. . .God.Men could train for three hours a day for over a year, and they still wouldn’t compare to his. They’re mouthwateringly scrumptious and barely hidden by the short cuff of his t-shirt.
“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” Alex’s hand makes the trek my eyes just traveled. “You didn’t mind it when you chose it for me to wear this morning.”
“That was different. One, that was this morning. Casual chic is perfectly acceptable for early wear. Two, the concierge didn’t have many options at his disposal. When forced to pick between jeans or cargo shorts, only one choice can be made.” I gag for real this time. No grown man should wear cargo pants. “And three, one way or another, I’m determined to see you naked. If that can only be achieved by demanding you change your clothes, so be it.”
Alex drags his hand across his beard, hiding his shit-eating grin. “For a drunk lady, you certainly have a way with words.”
“I’m not drunk. . . “ My words trail off when he slings his arm around my waist and guides me toward a hidden stairwell on my right. “Where are we going?”
