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Except he is staring at me with those steel eyes, trying to pry open my soul and learn all my deep, dark secrets.
I try to breathe. In and out.
I will not let the Dark Angel inside my head or heart.
No one gets to see me weak. And that’s what my heart is, a weakness.
11
LANDON
Only this woman can look sexier in sweatpants and a sweatshirt than in tight skirts and dresses.
Only this woman has been living rent-free in my head for the past week.
Only this woman makes my cock so hard he’s about to tear through my pants and throw on a show here for her.
When I got the brilliant idea to show up at her doorstep and demand dinner, I did not think she’d agree.
I also didn’t think she was living with someone else, which put a kink in my plan. Because she is living with an overprotective bastard who will undoubtedly have my head on a platter if I touch a hair on Lexi’s head.
I have a thousand questions for her, and that is a fucking first. I never want to talk to my pleasure givers. I never care enough, but for some unholy reason, I need to know everything about this little vixen that has me by the balls without even knowing it. But for now, I’m settling for silent observation as she cooks something for us.
She is cooking for me.
No one does that anymore.
No one cares enough to do that. They all just want to use me for their benefit, which suits me just fine—usually—since I do the same thing to everyone around me.
But not with Alexandra.
She could have sent me packing, slammed the door in my face, and told me to fuck off, yet she didn’t. She has let me in.
Fuck, she is putting cracks into my carefully crafted system.
How is she doing that? What is it about her that gets to me?
These are some of the questions that roam around my mind, but for now, I settle on asking something neutral.
“What are you making?”
“Pad Thai.”
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Mr. Locke,” she shoots a glare my way, and why do I hate that she calls me Mr. Locke when I demanded that myself in the beginning?
“So, tell me about yourself?” I say to her.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to?” Damn that sharp tongue of hers. I’d like to have a taste of it right about now.
“I’m your boss, and I demand to know.”
“Um, yeah, that won’t work on me; in case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m not exactly afraid of losing my job.”
