He places the glasses down on the counter and passes mine to me, simply sliding it across the counter as if it’s an offering. I can’t help but let out a small laugh. He smiles in response, a handsome smile that makes my fingers itch to touch the stubble along his jaw.
“You’re very handsome, Mr. Kulls.” I finally give in to a bit of my desire, and pick up the glass of wine, holding on to it for support in this decision.
His grin widens and he leans forward just slightly to say, “Alec, Lila. My name is Alec to you.” He pauses for a moment, then flashes me a smirk and adds, “Unless of course you’d like to scream 'Mr. Kulls' in bed?”
My face heats instantly as he rises from his seat to attend to the beeping oven and he's quick to say, “I do believe Alec may be easier.”
The sweet wine touches my lips and the taste is delicious, but I can’t think of anything other than this man on top of me, making me scream as he thrusts inside of me repeatedly.
“I think you’ve maybe thought a little too far ahead, Mr.- Alec,” I’m quick to correct myself. I watch as he works in the oven, turning the chicken breasts and then setting the tongs back down on the counter before coming back to his seat.
“Mmm, that could be,” he says picking up his glass, but not sitting. I cross my ankles and turn in my seat to face him.
“This isn’t very professional,” I tell him with a serious look, or at least the most serious I can manage. He shrugs his shoulders and then takes a sip from his glass.
“Do you want it to be?” he asks and then adds, “That’s fine if you do. I understand the attraction may only be on my end.”
My heart thumps hard in my chest. I don’t think this man knows how to be subtle. He’s honest and to the point. But I admire that.
“It’s definitely not just one-sided,” I admit, and then bite my tongue. I'm thinking I should add that this is dangerous for me. I could lose my job. More than that though, this man could crush me. I’ve never had a one-night stand because I know I don’t really do casual. I’ve been wined and dined and then thrown away before. It hurts too much.
I don’t recover easily, and I prefer to avoid relationships. But it’s been so long since I’ve been touched.
Alec’s deep voice rumbles, “That’s good to know.” I don’t think a man has ever looked at me with the same level of desire. It’s tempting and frightening all the same.
“So, tomorrow?” he asks me, and my brow furrows with confusion.
“Tomorrow?” I repeat.
He smiles at me, and the smell of his cologne, or maybe his natural scent hits me with a powerful force that makes me lean in closer to him.
“Would you like to go out with me tomorrow?” he asks.
His gray eyes swirl with a mixture of desire and something else--a desperate need. I nod my head slowly and say, “I’d love to.”Chapter FiveLilaMy eyes pop open as I hear Alec in the kitchen. My bare feet pad on the wooden stairs and I clutch his white dress shirt I’m wearing tighter. His. I’m fucking mortified.
I hardly slept, even with a stomach full of hot food and delicious wine. I was this close to sleeping with Alec, to kissing him and making a fool of myself last night. I don’t know what came over me.
Nothing has been normal about the last two days.
And I don’t know what to expect today. Or where to find my clothes. We didn’t have sex; I know that much. I’m fairly sure I asked for a dress shirt to sleep in. Specifically, a dress shirt, because that’s an obvious choice to sleep in.
I roll my eyes and try not to groan at the thought. This is worse than a walk of shame. I didn’t even get to have sex.
As I turn the corner headed toward the kitchen, I spot my suitcase in an instant. The faded blue and bulky casing stands out like a sore thumb on the window seat.
I cast a furtive glance at Alec, hoping I can sneak in and grab it, but it’s no use. He looks up at me from his laptop and says easily, “Good morning.”
My grip on the dress shirt tightens as I try to swallow.
“Morning,” I mutter and glance at my suitcase, desperate to change and try to collect myself.
“Drew brought it over this morning.” Alec closes the laptop and leans back in his seat, his eyes assessing me. “I thought about bringing it up to you, but I didn’t want to wake you.”
My throat’s tight as I answer, “Thank you.”
“How did you sleep?” he asks. I wonder if this is normal for him, to have random women in his clothes parading through his house half-naked on the weekends.