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Maybe he has some liquor I can sip on to loosen up. At this point, alcohol is the only thing that’ll tame the bubbling energy ricocheting through my limbs and making it impossible to sit still.
Trying to appear calm when it feels like my body is going to vibrate apart, I hurry to the front porch and tentatively press the doorbell, my stomach dropping toward the ground when it echoes. Footsteps follow, causing my chest to seize, and then the door opens.
He’s standing there in the clothes he wore to work, a glint of surprise in his eyes. Did he really think I wouldn’t show up? Did he think I would back out at the last second?
I can’t deny that the thought crossed my mind once or twice on the drive over. Despite the steady throb between my thighs begging me to go through with it, whispers of doubt fought their way through and tried to appeal to my better senses.
This could ruin everything between us.
This could lose me my job.
This could leave me sobbing on the bathroom floor when I realize I’ve gotten attached and Alessandro doesn’t feel the same way.
Still, regardless of all those things, I came. Here I am, staring up into his warm brown eyes, breathing in his familiar scent and begging silently for him to make the first move.
My breath stutters, and my hands tremble in the long second that passes before Alessandro breaks the silence.
“Jessa,” he says, my name a delicate whisper on his breath that makes my knees go weak. He opens the door wider and steps back to let me pass. “Come in.”
Heart flitting frantically in my chest, I step over the threshold, trying and failing to prepare myself for what’s to come. However, he doesn’t grab me and throw me against a wall like they do in the movies. Nor does he pull me in as soon as the door closes to kiss me.
The tension is there, pulsing and undeniable, pulling me to him as I follow to the kitchen. A bottle of whiskey sits on the counter, waiting for us with two empty glasses next to it, like he set them out and was just waiting for me to show up.
He gestures to one of the bar stools.
I sit, the feeling familiar from when we had breakfast together, and he pours whiskey in both glasses, shoving one my way.
“Hopefully Sean Delune is okay,” he says, referencing the expensive bottle of whiskey. I’ve never tried it before, but I’ve heard it’s one of the best out there, and I bring it to my lips.
“It’ll do,” I say, smirking against the rim of the glass before taking a sip. It’s already chilled, and it burns my throat like warm butter.
After seeing the approval in my gaze, he pours his own and knocks it back quickly. Obviously, he’s as nervous about this proposal as I am, and I can understand why.
I’m too nervous to ask, but there’s a good chance he’s never been with someone so much younger than him. Not to mention, I’m his employee.That might be a new one for him too.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, gesturing to the kitchen.
I shake my head. My stomach is swimming with nerves, and there’s no way I could eat right now if I tried. Besides, I’m much more eager to have something else in my mouth.
Finishing my whiskey, I set the glass aside, warmth flooding me and melting away my reservations. My head floats a little, and I smile. He may not have done this before, but he certainly knows what he’s doing.
I feel as confident as I did saying yes to him in the office.
“Come here,” he says, and my feet move me around the counter before I can think twice.
I stand in front of him, heart racing. Every part of my body is warm from the liquor, but my libido quickly adds to the inferno, setting my core ablaze. Being this close to him, knowing what happened earlier at the restaurant, knowing what’s to come, has me jittery all over again, and when he reaches to cup his hand behind my neck, it takes my breath away.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, staring deep into my eyes like he’s trying to see into my soul.
A week ago, I would have said no.
After being hurt so badly by alphas before, trusting someone with my body, my heart, again is terrifying. If it was anyone other than Alessandro, the answer would be a firm no.
It’s something about being in his arms, feeling his strength as he pulls me into him. Knowing without a doubt that he won’t be the same is comforting. It melts away those fears plaguing my thoughts, replacing them instead with longing, which can be just as dangerous.
If I fall for this man and it doesn’t go well, will I be able to go through the heartbreak again?
Could he possibly want me for something more than a one-night stand?
