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How did he do that to me in just a matter of seconds?

I would swear he did it on purpose just to shut me up, knowing one kiss would render me speechless. The look on his face told me I was dead on.

He smiled ruefully at me, cocking his head to the side.

Oh, yeah. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

He took a step back so he was no longer blocking the lift doors, leaving me alone and weak-kneed in the elevator.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Miss Cole. Good night,” he said, and the doors slid quietly shut.

Chapter Eighteen

Krystina

Ilay awake in bed that night, thoughts of sleep far from my mind as I tried to process all that had happened. This past week was surreal, and it was almost overwhelming. What had started as a clumsy bump on the head at Wally’s had turned into so much more. I struggled to wrap my head around the turn of events.

How had so much changed so fast?

I wished I could talk to Allyson about this, but she wasn’t home. A text from her earlier in the afternoon told me she and Jeremy had made peace and were going out for the evening. Unfortunately, it was well after midnight, and I didn’t expect her back anytime soon.

I gave up on trying to sleep, got out of bed, and went to the kitchen. Maybe if I had a glass of wine, my nerves would settle down, and I could sleep.

When I returned to my room, I went over to the stereo and flipped it on. I began to fiddle with the station selections, searching for a song I liked when I remembered the music Alexander had loaded onto my phone. I wasn’t thinking clearly when he had asked me if I’d listened to it, my mind too focused on his hands working over my body. Now I wondered what sort of music was on it.

Why did he ask me if I had listened to it?

I picked up the phone and opened the music folder.

Wow! There have to be at least a thousand songs on here.

There were several artists I recognized, but most of them I hadn’t heard before. He had separated the music into three different playlists. The first was titled “Persuasion,” the second one was “Surrender,” and the last was called “Control.”

Curious, I selected the first playlist and plugged the phone into the stereo. A soft guitar melody played through the speakers, and I immediately recognized it as the artist Alexander had stumbled upon in Venice.

As I allowed the gentle notes to flow through me, a barrage of memories from the past two days overcame me. Alexander was dangerous for me; I’d known that almost from the beginning. My experience, or lack thereof, was definitely going to be an issue. I was a quick learner, but the learn-as-you-go method was not going to work in this situation. If I was going to do this, I needed to establish some ground rules first.

I sipped my wine and wondered about the non-disclosure agreements some of his other women asked him to sign. I was curious what these agreements entailed.

Maybe I should draw up an unofficial contract of sorts, just to make sure we’re on the same page.

Setting a few of my own stipulations might help me to protect myself, as well as get a clear understanding of exactly what he wanted me to submit to. It didn’t have to be anything extravagant, only informal guidelines on which we could both agree. I glanced over at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand.

“Well, there’s no better time than the present,” I said, opting to make a list while my thoughts were still fresh, despite the late hour.

I frowned when I looked down at my near-empty glass of wine and headed back to the kitchen for a refill.

It’s going to be a long night—I should just grab the bottle.

I returned to the bedroom, bottle and glass in hand, and switched the music to Alexander’s next playlist. I recognized the rough guitar chords immediately.

Oh, shit. Not this song.

Goosebumps prickled down my spine, the song giving me flashbacks of Alexander’s skillful fingers between my thighs. I immediately felt a little stirring deep in my belly.

Leaving the song playing, I pulled out my laptop, opened a blank document, and absently thought about what music could be on Alexander’s “Control” playlist. I probably didn’t want to know. At least not right now. If the first two had me feeling all hot and bothered, I could only imagine what the last one would do to me.

I tried to tune out the music and contemplated where I should begin my typing. A list of bullet points should be sufficient enough. It didn’t have to be anything fancy, and the job at Turning Stone seemed like the most logical place to start. That was simple.