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“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You aren’t asking,” my thumb caresses her thigh and I tighten my grip, “I’m telling you.”
“But, Alex?” Her voice trembles again.
In the short time I’ve known her, I know more about Isabella than any woman that has come before her. I never really cared to know any of them. They didn’t interest me intellectually. The desire to talk to them, to learn more about them, had never been present. They were nothing more than a hole to fuck.
The idea of fucking Isabella had definitely crossed my mind. It was what originally enticed me to sit next to her at the bar. I enjoyed talking with her, actually talking and getting to know her. She is so different from any woman I’ve met before. She’s pure, untarnished by the world that I live in. Her innocent heart reminds me that there is good in this evil world I have built for myself, and maybe that there is even a little good left in me.
“I want to take care of you,” the tone in my voice is sincere.
I mean every word coming from my mouth.
Shaking her head as she looks at me, “You don’t even know me.”
“I know more than enough.”
Reaching my place, I pull the car into the garage and park. I stay silent and get out of the car to give her a moment to finish her thoughts.
She looks up at me when I open her door to help her from the car, hesitating for a moment before climbing from her seat and standing beside me.
At her rightful place, by my side.
“Wait,” she grabs my arm as we walk toward the elevator, “My bags. We didn’t get them from the car.”
“One of the guys will ensure your stuff is brought upstairs. Let me have your keys.”
“My keys?” She pulls them from her purse and hands them to me with a questioning look on her face. The slightly confused look only intensifies when she sees the two men flanking the waiting elevator.
“I’ll text you,” I hand her keys to the guard standing on my left, “and let you know what to do with these.”
“Come,” I usher Isabella into the elevator. I push the button for the penthouse and turn to face her, “I will send one of my men to go get the rest of your things from the apartment.”
“One of the guys that works for you?” She looks up at me with a disagreeable look on her face, “I don’t want some guy packing up my personal things. Going through and touching all of my…stuff.”
The doors open, granting us access directly to my penthouse apartment. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I lead her from the elevator and into the main living area. Her eyes widen as she takes in the space.
“It’s an expression. I have women that work for me too,” my fingers slide under her chin, “Do you really think I would let some other man put his hands on your panties?”
“You think that by staying here, it means you get to decide who does and doesn’t get to touch my panties?”
“Oh,cerecita,” I pull her body flush against mine and smirk down at her, “What makes you think it has anything to do with staying with me?”
eleven
ISABELLA
Every time Alex puts his hands on me or pulls me against his body, it’s as though I lose any ability to form a logical thought.
Or keep my panties on.
His hand slides down my back to my waist. My breath stutters when I feel his fingers dip inside the waistband as he slowly slides his hands to the button of my jeans.
“Alex…” I can barely muster his name, my body already so needy for what he provides.
His lips press against mine as I place my hands on his chest. I am about to push myself away from him when his lips travel to my ear.
“Do you want to see your new home,cerecita?” The words are breathy as he whispers them in my ear.
