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Alexander didn’t see people the same way mere mortals did, like their hair color or height. He tuned into their energy. Call it aura-reading. Call it mind-reading. It didn’t matter. Eventually, he ferreted out what they wanted and needed.
Rebecca’s lips parted. “I see you in everything here.” Her eyes drifted closed as if she was a sated kitten in a slice of sunshine.
As if they were linked, Eric's lids grew heavy, his eyes closing. Sounds floated all around him. The soft whisper of air moving in and out of his lungs. Soft moans to the right. The slap of flesh ringing. Small murmurs.
Fabric drew closer. His eyes snapped open. It’d been a trick of his mind—or ears. Alexander stared at him. His spine straightened another inch, and his nostrils flared. He wasn’t angry, however. He was just being himself. Noticing everything. Taking ineverything and everyone.
Eric’s hand hovered over the notebook. He’d been scratching something. He didn’t bother to glance down. Doodles, nothing more.
His gaze softened. His pen scratches soon mixed with the moans, the rustle of fabric, and the heavy breathing all around. He didn’t even know what he was drawing at that point. Something far more important caught his attention—an Alexander he hadn’t considered before. A level of dominance he was shocked he hadn't tuned into.
Alexanderdrank inall the scenes like a lion might assess its pride. He was in control of every scene in the room. His presence allowed them to continue, explore, and take it as far as they had consented to—all because he’d not have it any other way. His gaze kept them on watch. And he could stop them at any time.
Rebecca was right. Alexander was everywhere. A merciless energy field that cradled you and sometimes pushed you. But always loved you.
He looked down at his paper and was stunned to see what he’d drawn. A face with eyes so piercing, Eric nearly stepped backward.
Alexander’s voice rang out. “Rebecca, Eric.”
His gaze lifted to the man. “Do you two want to tell me what you’re in cahoots about?”
Eric pushed off the ladder and let his legs carry him forward until he stood by the two of them. An odd calm had settled in his belly. “Rebecca has an idea.” And for reasons he would never understand, he lifted the notebook and showed it to Alexander.
He waited in a submissive silence for him to study it. Eric’s heart thudded heavily in his chest. “It’s not right. It’s just a draft.” He could never stay silent for long.
The man’s lips inched up. “It’s good.” His gaze returned to assessing the room. “I was waiting for you to do that. And to learn more about this mentorship program that you two have been whispering about.”
Alexander knew what they were planning? Or had Rebecca already told him, and it was a set-up?
Eric and Rebecca locked eyes for a second. She smiled at him.
Alexander filled his chest with air. “I like it. Now, sit.” His gaze dipped to the pillow Rebecca had abandoned. “Sketch more.”
At that moment, he didn’t care how the man found out. Alexander had just asked him to draw. A glow started deep in his pelvis and traveled up his spine before making its way down his arms. Alexander wanted to be sketched, and as if jolted by life-giving electricity, his fingers twitched around the pen he’d clutched.
Maybe he’d finally been given what he didn’t know he needed: Permission.
Eric settled himself on the pillow. Opened to a new page.
Alexander granted him another look. “When you’re done, ask me what inspiration you need to finish, and we will do whatever it takes.”
He sent a silent prayer to the gods and goddesses of artists and released it like smoke to the heavens. Let his sketch not be good enough. Let it require all the inspiration Alexander could dole out.
Rebecca has said “people” needed the portrait. She'd meant him, hadn't she?
ERIC
He waited two days before addressing it. “It” being Alexander’s statement.
“When you’re done, ask me what inspiration you need to finish, and we will do whatever it takes.”
He tried a dozen times to make himself go to Alexander’s office, make an appointment to show him how much he’d be willing to let the man be in control. He could always say “no,” then. But he couldn’t make himself do it.
Instead, he was striding down the long hallway alongside the set of French doors that led out to the garden on his way to a yoga class in the gym when he rounded the corner and ran smack into the man himself.
Alexander chuckled and grabbed him by both arms. “Coming or going to meet Rebecca?” He knew Eric so well. Eric spent most of his time with the woman, if not with Alexander. It was as if a piece of him was missing if he wasn’t in the same room with at least one of them.
“Want to go to the dungeon with me?” The question just blurted out.
