Chapter 220

Competent mover, confident with it, and I’m aware of all the glances and smiles surrounding women give him when he gets up with me to guide me to the clearing on the floor amid the movers and shakers. He always attracts a lot of female appreciation and it’s not just because he is a good-looking man. He’s tall, stands like a dominant, oozes alpha male and walks with an aura of self-confidence that practically has them throwing their knickers at him.

I don’t blame them. I had the same physical response to him when I first laid eyes on him too. He is something anyway, even if his dark soul and cruel mind are a part of that. Not that tonight supports it. The human version he’s being has me feeling all out of whack around him and it’s wholly disconcerting. It’s easy to forget how much I dislike him when he’s been on the charm offensive all night; Smiles, smooth mood, weirdly nice and completely not Alexi.

He takes my hand in his, warm skin, lacing his fingers through mine snugly in a hold more befitting Mico and Mandy than us and leads the way to the floor. I can’t help the little warm flutters his touch still gives me, but I push it down and try to ignore it. Along with the breathless light-headed feeling I am getting with too many cocktails.

I’m drunk, much more prone to fragile emotional outbursts, pointless thoughts and silly reactions, so I am trying to keep my mind on chirpy and fun and not ponder anything beyond that. Even hand holding. I need to ignore my inner SHE, heated and squirming sensually as it takes a tight grip on my nether regions. I can go back to hating him when we get home, but right now I’m enjoying the person he’s pretending to be and trying not to mentally meltdown over it.

If he was like this from day one then maybe I would have liked him a whole lot more. Well I fell for him, but I never actually liked him, which is stupid I know. I don’t even understand it myself. I guess there were always parts that called to my deepest parts in the depth of his levels—his protective side, his possessive never share me with anyone side. Maybe even sometimes that pushy, controlling bastard who made me feel like I mattered in some way, even when he was verbally telling me I didn’t. He gave me something that my soul craved—a place to call home, self-worth in his empire and safety; the possibility of love. Even if at the same time he was destroying me in other ways … and finally taking it all away.

Also, I can never forget the man who held me close and made love to me after Santagato’s man tried to take me. Whoever he was that night—that is the Alexi I fell hard for, and I am seeing glimpses of him again in his behaviour tonight. I’m aware it’s probably why I am feeling so woozy and strange.

He is so much like Gino in his mood and personality like this and I can see they are more alike than I used to think. This side of him is reserved for family I guess and his once every two years night off. I assume this is why he doesn’t get raging drunk very often. Softens all his hard edges and he loses that sinister cloak of evil.

The music changes when we get to the floor, from the intense house beat that has everyone bouncing around to a much slower smooth jam that is pushing couples to start swaying towards one another, and I back up to get back off the floor; Apprehensive with the slow smoother tune that is made to make-out too. Alexi doesn’t though, he slides his arm around my waist snugly and pulls me in against him, so we end up torso to torso and I only have his shoulders to plant my hands on. It’s either that or I’ll look like a weird flailing idiot. Breathless and shocked with the sudden manoeuvre when faced with his body pressed to mine.

‘What are you doing?’ I yell in his ear over the loud music, not sure where in the no touching rules I would put this little move. His groin is most definitely pressed into my pelvis and my boobs are only getting breathing space because my arms are between us, bent to keep my palms on his shoulders. He’s all around me very evasively and I start to feel suffocated with a very low and foreboding sense of panic.

‘Dancing,’ he answers back, leaning in so his mouth is against my ear, breathing down onto my neck and naked collarbone and igniting millions of internal eruptions. Like tiny fireworks in my stomach. He sways with me as he gets a little cosier in how he’s holding me. One arm around my waist, keeping me pinned to him solidly and the other slides up to flatten between my shoulder blades, so my face is against his cheek as he leans down. Completely wrapped up in his hold and unable to move or escape it. Not a part of me is saved from touching him, even his feet are separated so one is between mine and my knees are on either side of his leg. It just feels a whole lot of dangerous and going too far, compared to sitting on his lap. This is a step over the line.

‘Alexi …’ I try to put some space between us, feeling instantly uncomfortable with how intimate this is. I agreed to dance not cuddle up to a love song, and I don’t trust my body to just be okay to dance and then go sit down like this is nothing. I can literally feel every single part of him against me and my nerve endings are sparking with the sensation—Breathless, more light-headed and so out of my depth as my lady parts stir warmly and little flashes of twisting heat move up inside of me so my vajayjay throbs and tingles. I know that sexual craving well, and he ignites it effortlessly. Stomach tightening with it.

It’s the first time since I left him that I feel completely under his control, and even my heart is struggling to stay afloat of the swirling emotions and longings wrapping me up in desire.

I hate him, but he’s still someone who can turn me to mush, he’s still gorgeous and strong and sexually appealing … Even if he is a wanker.

I try to push against his chest to get free, but he only pulls me back and wraps me more snugly within his body and arms and I have to fight myself not to give in, close my eyes and enjoy how good this feels. It’s not good, on any level. It’s Alexi moving in for the kill, fucking with my mind and luring me down the path of impending destruction. My brain is screaming at me to reverse, turn and run like a bat out of hell, every part of me stiffening up in response to my nerves and fear jumping to high voltage.

‘Relax … Being other people tonight, remember?’ He scoops one of my hands in his, by releasing the one between my shoulder blades, and holds it like we are going to waltz, tilting me back so suddenly that I yelp, startled. He pulls me back up fast and does a cute little lambada move against me, grinding pelvis to pelvis a la ‘dirty dancing’ with a weird face pout that’s so wrong on him. Despite myself, and the instant self-combustion with his crotch hitting me in a very good place that almost buckles my knees, I start giggling at him. Ridiculous has never been his forte and the sudden injection of humour kills all my crazy rambling thoughts and quietens my doubts.

He pulls another crazy face, equally silly, and shimmies against me like Patrick Swayze, only badly. No coordination on purpose. The face makes me break. He just looks so serious, yet not. Completely hilarious and I burst into a proper light-hearted laugh. Alexi smiles too, all dimples, white teeth and smooth eyebrows and a soft deep chuckle escapes him, I feel it rumble through his strong chest.

Relaxing, he loosens his overly tight embrace on me and I let my free hand slide around his shoulders as he dances me around in a comical tango. Definitely not serious in any way, pulling squeals of laughter from me as we bump into nearby couples, who glare our way as though we are troublesome, bothersome kids. He spins me under his arm before trying a risky lift, picking me up and tipping me so far back my boobs almost leave my dress.