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“No, it’s okay, really. I’ve called him half a dozen times in the last few years since buying this older home. He can be trusted and he’s super quick and reliable.” Before he can protest, I make my way toward the stairs. “I’m going to get ready.”
It’s not that I don’t appreciate Alex’s offer to help, it’s that once again, it all feels a little too comfortable. I grab my phone and dial Terry.
“Hey Terry, it’s Juliette. My garbage disposal is making a weird sound and doesn’t seem to be working. Any chance you can stop by and see what’s going on with it?”
“Hey, beautiful.” His smoky voice echoes through the receiver, followed by his signature raspy laugh. Terry has been taking care of this neighborhood’s plumbing for the last 30 years. He came highly recommended from Ms. Parsons across the street when I first moved, and has since been to my home a few times to fix things. “For you? Of course.” He laughs again. “I’ll swing by later today, doll.”
“Thanks so much, Terry. Just leave the bill on the counter as usual, and thank you so much. You still have the key, right?” I’ve never thought twice about him having a key—everyone on the street has given him one. It’s not uncommon for him to come by when you’re not home to fix something, and he always locks up after he leaves. For a second, though, I wonder if he should have a key with everything going on. If Alex knew, he’d probably throw a fit, and the last thing I want to do is make Terry feel weird or unwelcome after all his years serving this neighborhood.
“Still got the key, Miss Pierce. I’ll be sure to leave Chloe another comic book. Found a few more going through my oldest son’s belongings he never took out of my attic. Says he don’t want them anymore.”
“You’re so sweet, Terry. Chloe will love that. Thanks so much.”
I end the call and quickly apply some makeup, pulling on a pair of slim jeans, a button-up silk blouse, and my favorite loafers. I grab my bag and head downstairs, where Alex and Chloe are arguing over a quote from some movie I haven’t seen. This time I think it’s a superhero movie.
“Okay, let’s go.”
* * *
I feelmy stomach do a flip as we pull away from Blaire’s house. I haven’t been fully alone with Alex since last night.
“How are you feeling?” I can feel him looking over at me at the red light, but I keep my eyes forward.
“Fine, good,” I say.
“Yeah?” His hand slides across the console and up to my neck, where he rests it in my hair. “Are you sore?”
“A little,” I say, clearing my throat. Technically, I’m hurting a lot, in the most delicious way, though.Why am I suddenly so embarrassed? Maybe because you had a giant meat stick rammed into you over and over for hours.I feel my face flush and I reach to point the air vent directly at my face, which makes Alex chuckle.
“Only a little?” His hand drops down to rest on my thigh. “Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”
“And who says there’s going to be a next time?” I brush his hand off of my thigh as he pulls into the parking garage of my office building. Before I can undo my seatbelt, he’s grabbing me behind the back of my neck, pulling me halfway into his lap and burying his tongue in my throat.
“We both know there’s going to be a next time, baby. Don’t even pretend like your pussy isn’t throbbing just sitting next to me in this car.”
My mouth hangs open; the crassness of this man never ceases to amaze me. He wonders why I struggle to admit my attraction to him, and it’s this right here. I’ve never been with a man who spoke to me like this . . . I never knew Iwanteda man to speak to me like this.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” He traces my bottom lip with his thumb, sliding it just inside my mouth—enough that I can bite down on it. “Mmm, you should try that on my chest tonight.” His eyes grow dark, his voice low and gravelly.
“I have to go inside.” His eyes don’t move, and neither do his fingers on my chin. Then he lets go, leaning over me to undo my seatbelt. I climb out just as he does. “What are you doing?”
“Going inside with you.”
“Why? There’s security in this building and it’s the weekend. Nobody is even here.”
“Exactly.” He straightens out his holster, sliding a jacket over his body to hide his weapon. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it, or I’ll take it out on you tonight,” he says as he falls in step with me as we enter the elevator. I lean forward to scan my key fob and press the button for my floor when I feel his hand grab my ass. “And it won’t be gentle either.”
“Hey, there are cameras!” I swat at his hand, but he doesn’t care.
“And? As far as everyone here knows, I’m your husband.”
“Oh, please. As if.” I roll my eyes. “We both know you’re more likeex-husbandmaterial.”
“Damn,” he laughs, “shots fired.”
We exit the elevator and walk toward my office. I grab my bag and rummage through my purse. “Shit, I think I left my cell phone at home.” I look further, but I can’t find it. “Maybe I left it in your car.”
“You want to go check?”
