His on Demand

The mention of her husband stings against the pleasure of seeing her not quite as cool as she was when she walked in. When she walks out her hand is flat against her stomach. Fuck, is she pregnant already? My mouth is sour at the thought, only because of the inconvenience it would cause me. Not because the idea of her long legs wrapped around someone else begging to be fucked leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

4

Alexa

I’m in a fog as I step out of the building onto the quiet sidewalk. After six in the evening, the loop is practically deserted. What the hell just happened? Why does it feel like I left a part of me upstairs with Leandros Kaplan?

My emotions and my mind are in complete chaos. I’m empty, gutted, at the same time filled to bursting with happiness, yet terrified as if I’ve been tossed off a skyscraper and am waiting to hit the concrete. My phone rings startling me out of the fog, I don’t answer. I know it’s Natalie. I’m not ready to talk to her.

I have the job, I should be ecstatic. Instead, I’m scared. None of the hours of research prepared me for meeting him in person. It wasn’t fair a man could be as beautiful as Leandros Kaplan is.

The words, handsome, or good-looking were too weak to use; the only word that truly fits is beautiful. Hair thick and as black as coal with silver flecked at his temples that only highlighted his stunning beauty. His features individually weren’t attractive, his jaw is too strong, his brow too heavy and lined, his nose too hawkish, his eyes too black without a hint of softness yet combined they somehow came together in complete perfection. Adding to his perfection was the kind of body no perfect tailoring could hide, his chest is wide and strong, muscles bulging beneath the silk of his charcoal gray suit.

The moment I saw him, I longed to touch him to find out if he was real. For a long moment, I trembled, hesitating, wanting to drop the bag and flee. Only I couldn’t any more than I could stop the insidious weakness thrumming through me.

For the first time in my thirty-one years, I want a man, not just want him, crave him. After so many years without feeling this way, there’s a small current of fear running through me at what it means. I haven’t dated a man in over three years and haven’t missed it. I’m a damned virgin.

It’s not a religious thing or even a man on a white horse thing. It’s a having a loving, protective, father thing. He told me I was a treasure and only a man who recognized that and treated me like the treasure I am deserved me. He said this when I was twelve, before my sarcasm, cynicism, and deep lack of trust kicked in. I long ago made peace with dying a virgin. But now, after meeting Leo, there is no peace.

There is no peace because there is no way a Greek god-like Leandros Kaplan would ever want someone like me. Not with me a size fourteen when the models he was used to dating were double zeros. It was his clear distaste at se

eing me that pulled me hard and fast back to the moment. I was sure he was looking at me and finding every fault from my fat ass to my too big breasts. I knew I was nothing like the women I’d seen him with in pictures, the gorgeous lingerie models with their long blonde hair and perfectly perky breasts, he didn’t have to be so rude about it.

The moment when his hand took mine, the electric shock was so intense I almost came out of my skin. His hand was so big, so strong, so hot then it was gone as if he couldn’t stand to touch me. At least it gave me the kick I needed, how dare he look down on me?

Then the ice cool I developed while working as a waitress for years in a steakhouse where men thought I was on the menu as well was back, without even thinking I still had it in me. He was just like all the other men, annoyed the women around him weren’t perfect. I was able to meet his eyes and dare him to find me lacking as the personal assistant he needed. I might not be as beautiful and sexy as the other women in his life, I wasn’t supposed to be. I was there to do a job.

The job. It will be heaven and hell all at once. To see him every day, be close to him yet not be able to touch him freely the way my fingers itched to do. To hear him every day, Natalie had admitted without shame just hearing his voice over the phone made her nipples hard. At the time I laughed, then it happened to me. His voice is like a perfect scotch deep, smoky, rich the words seeped into my veins turning my blood into hot, sticky honey. Even before those few minutes when it didn’t feel like an interview, I was lost to him. As torturous as working with him promised to be, the thought of never seeing him again sends a hard kick to my chest. To never hear his voice, never look into those eyes again, that would be a different kind of hell.

Once I’m home, Natalie is knocking on my door. I barely have the door open before she’s talking.

“Alexa? What the hell?” She’s interrupted by Felix, meowing and headbutting her demanding to be petted. With a huff she picks him up for a few strokes then sets him down. “Why didn’t you answer or call me back?”

I shrug as I pour Macallan into an iced glass and toss in a single ice cube. A few swirls and I sip deep without giving it the respect it deserves. I swallow the rest, thankful for the heat warming me from the inside out. As much as I don’t want to, I put the lid back on. I don’t like getting drunk, especially not on scotch. When I look up Natalie is studying me. “I’ll take the job.”

“What happened?”

Shaking my head, I can’t meet her eyes. The last thing I need right now is her laughing at me, again. “Nothing, he offered me the job. I start on Monday. I’ll take it.”

“Alexa—”

She couldn’t let shit go. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Leave it the hell alone, Natalie. You wanted me to take the job to save your ass. I’m taking it.” Her eyes are huge, I fight to take a deep breath. I’ve never raised my voice to her in the two years we’ve been friends since I bought my condo across the hall from her. Hell, I don’t usually raise my voice at all. It’s rare for me to feel so out of control of my thoughts and emotions. “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed now.”

“Okay, yeah. I’m sorry too. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

I nod, knowing I won’t. Felix is headbutting me, demanding attention. I don’t respond. I check to make sure he has all the food and water he needs then take a shower.

I’m in the shower for so long my fingers are getting wrinkled only it feels too good to get out. Was I really going to do this? I hate lying, my father raised me to never lie unless the truth hurt someone, lies were never right. Was I really going to lie to satisfy a stupid job requirement? A job I deserved without lying so I could fulfill my dream of being a full-time writer. Four years, five years tops I could live a lie and walk away with enough money to make my dream a reality. It felt worth it. Did I really have a choice?

Head against the tile wall I sigh. Yeah, I have a choice, there’s always a choice. Except, it didn’t really feel like it. What the hell am I doing going to work for a man whose mere glance set me on fire so hot and bright it felt like I would melt at his feet? I’m certifiable to go to work for him when he could never feel the same way about me, no way he could ever want me as badly as I want him. It would lead to years of regret, to pain, to tears. But the idea of not ever seeing him again... it hurts so badly I can barely breathe through the pain.

So, no, I don’t have a choice.

***