Chapter 293

He finally trails his eyes up and down my outfit although no visible facial expressions to tell if he still thinks I’m fuckable like this. Not that I care—much.

“I feel like I’m in a dream and it’s slowly turning into one of those uncomfortable daymares.” I point out sarcastically and get an eye to the ceiling in a ‘save me already’ gesture as we travel downstairs. Alexi sighs heavily and throws me a pensive glance.

“Fine. Flowers, chocolates, calling you Hunny Bunny or some other vomit inducing term. Just don’t complain when I have to beat people to level myself out a little. I can’t do nice without balancing it with something violent.” He sounds deadly serious. I actually believe him.

“Yep, I’m in an alternate reality. One where Alexi Carrero says Hunny Bunny in a conversation, without breaking a sweat.” I smile at that, really seeing the funny in those words coming out of that mouth. Who knew that was a term he had in his verbal brain bank.

“I think I just died a little inside.” He frowns, utterly deadpan, and it breaks me unexpectedly. It pulls a genuine hearty giggle out of me, and I realise our weird conversation has completely lightened my mood with how utterly ridiculous it is. I never thought this would be a topic I would ever have with him or that he could be this funny, and I’m not sure if he meant to be. He has my sense of humour; dry and sarcastic with a completely serious tone. I think I just fell in love with him all over again. Definitely a side to him I may have previously overlooked.

“I’m putting my foot down on you calling me anything other than Sir.” That cheeky sideways glance and I open my mouth in outrage, immediately over the slight adoration I was teetering on.

“Fuck off. Sir, my arse. I would call you dickhead before I crawl at your feet and refer to you as my master.” I cross my arms moodily over my bust, finally losing his hand in mine and it only seems to propel him to the next level.

Alexi yanks me to him bodily by my upper arm and plants a kiss on me that stops everything.

A full-on lip to lip meeting with passion and perfection and he kisses me properly for the first time since he uttered those three words. Pressing me back against the wall so I’m utterly powerless to him and my legs give way. His body hard against mine and all I can do is surrender and struggle to stay in control as everything swirls deliciously. He kisses me dizzy and leaves me breathless.

Like a weak fool, my lips part and I allow him to not only kiss me into oblivion, but I kiss him back. Tongues warmly sliding together, lips moulded as we find our rhythm. Churning my knickers into a wet mess. He knows how to ignite the horn factor for sure.

It’s on the hotter side of tender, and as he pushes me back into the corner of the lift, so I’m bodily trapped rather than propped up, my hands find their own way up the front of his jacket and slide around his strong neck. Savouring the feel of that hard, hot body that moulds to my curves in all the right ways. His knee slides between both of mine and he pushes himself against me in a very sexual way that leaves no room for misunderstanding. His thigh wedged high between mine has the desired effect and hits me to the upper level of desperate for sex in a millisecond.

I have always hated that as a kisser he’s a bloody demon, gets inside of every part of you while making love to your mouth and completely overwhelms you so you cannot do anything except obey.

Alexi kisses me until the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly attracts his attention and he stops to look back over his shoulder, grinning wickedly, like the cat who got the cream. He knew what he was doing, and he is high fiving himself mentally that he got me how he wanted and submissive on every level. He doesn’t need me to call him Sir, he just reduced me to mush and completely overpowered me voluntarily. Always the fucking manipulator who has to show he can.

I curse him under my breath.

I can only assume we are on the ground floor and in full view of whoever was standing at the lift doors.

He lets me go, captures my hand as his prisoner once more and pulls me with him, even though my unsteady legs almost give out as soon as I’m released. We pass two security, dressed all in formal black, and a very amused looking Jackson who beams at me widely and suddenly seems overcome with merriment.

“Have a nice evening you two. You look lovely, Miss Camilla.” He calls as we pass and slaps Alexi on the back in a laddish camaraderie way that just screams ‘good luck getting laid tonight bro’.

My face instantly heats, no doubt blushing from my roots to my toes. I avoid eye contact as I’m led out past them and straight out the rear door like a silent puppy dog on a leash.

I’m not doing a very good job of holding my own against King Carrero. Knowing they all saw that feels weird because it wasn’t a game of seduction for me, but something meaningful, and somehow, I didn’t like being watched or exposed and vulnerable that way. Being devoured wholly seems like something people shouldn’t see.

It’s already dark out, even though it’s just after six and the air is crisp and biting cold, another hint of an impending snow spell. I follow him carefully down the stairs, hints of the first frost making them slippery and he keeps a firm hold of my hand as he guides the way. He waits every couple of steps to help me down and his attention to making sure I don’t fall soothes a little of my irritation. He can be sweet in unexpected ways sometimes. Logical, practical ways rather than thoughtful romantic ones. If you summarise all he is and put them together, then his nicer traits balance out the dickhead ones occasionally. He can be a gentleman when you least expect it and he does take care of the people he loves. His men want for nothing.

My breath catches in my throat, instant panic when standing in the centre of the car park I see he wasn’t lying at all. A huge black beast of a motorcycle is perched on a kickstand and shining in the light of the car park’s lamps. It’s almost sparkling with how glossy all the black paintwork and shiny chrome is. Two helmets perched on the long seat. An intimidating beast of a machine that screams of power and speed and the last of my blood drains to my feet as cold fear grips me. Nausea swirls back to the front of my stomach and I tremble internally.

“I’m not sure about this.” I blurt out impulsively, digging my heels in and not wanting to go any further, terror strangling me.

“Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you and I will drive very carefully and slowly. I swear.” Alexi doesn’t miss a beat, yanks me with him and I yelp when I’m tugged along harshly, almost sliding on the tarmac, but he rights me by grabbing my arm and steadies me.

“Stop doing that!” I bark and slap his hand around mine. It’s really annoying me the way he keeps dragging me around. It feels like he is being a pushy tit and not giving a shit how infuriating it is.

“And the kissing thing needs to … you know … stop!” I add in afterthought, stomach churning as the words come out, but I need to keep my wits about me and kissing him destroys that. I’m pretty sure he knows it too, and it’s why he is so insistent on trying.

“Come on, Cam. You weren’t exactly hating it back there.” He tries for a smile and a pull towards him, but I put my hand up to stop what I suspect is another swoop in to silence me with a snog. I’m onto his little powers of persuasion. It’s not new to me and if he thinks it’s a tool to keep me pliable, he can fuck off.

“This is what you do. You manipulate me, coerce me, kiss me into submission and not let me be my own person and work in my own time. Stop trying to push me to march to your tune. I won’t ever trust you if you keep doing this and it’s not helping your cause at all.” I snap at him and shove my palm against his chest to push his face back; keeping him at bay despite his superior strength.

Alexi’s expression sobers, he looks uneasy almost instantly, runs a hand across the back of his neck and looks out over the car park away from me. His grip on me loosens and the space between us widens.

“Old habits die hard.” He mutters to himself or maybe me, and brings that set of greys back to mine, looking a little sombre and deflated.

“It’s hard to not want to kiss you, it’s not that I’m trying to mani …”

“Yes, you are. You want me to get in line and do what you want me to do. I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing. I know you better than you think. You can’t force me to fall in love with you, Alexi.” I point out and he has the grace to just frown at me.

“I’m used to things going my way. Getting what I want … I’m sorry. I’ll back off.” He moves back a little bit and the look on his face barely conceals a hint of boyish hurt.

“I need to feel like I have control and I’m not being cornered or pushed. If I feel that way, I’ll run. It’s bred into me. You said you wanted to give me time, so do that. I need to feel safe with you before I can relax and learn to trust you. Just ease up, stop making me defensive.” I make it clear, hoping he gets the point loudly and I sigh a little when he dismisses me with a frown and pulls the smaller of the two helmets off the seat instead. Avoiding an answer but I can tell by the change in his cocky manner that something filtered through. There’s an immediate calming of his energy.

“Need me to put it on you?” His voice and tone are softer, and he holds it out rather than sweeping in to force it on my head. I think he realises he is being way too dominant, and it’s only hurting his chances of a nice evening.

“Why can’t we take your car?” I’m desperate to avoid getting on this death machine and I don’t get why he wants to use this. It’s not impressing me at all. I was never one of those girls who liked to have terrifying speed contraptions between her thighs. Well, unless it’s six inches and takes batteries.

“I’m taking you somewhere that doesn’t have car access, it’s too narrow and hellish to find parking. I can get this baby right to the door and park it on the path.” He ignores my hesitation and puts the helmet on my head, over the hair I never pulled down and yanks it on with a tug. He was right about my bun hurting but I’m not about to admit it. I grit my teeth and ignore the knotted bruising pain in my skull where the helmet is pressing on it.

“Where exactly is that?” I ask after letting him get it over my face. Alexi has my visor up and leans down to mess with a buckle and strap under my chin, fastening it and sliding it tight. It’s hard when he is this close and focusing below my vision not to stare at that flawless face or watch those mystical eyes so intent on what he is doing. I cannot deny that Alexi is gorgeous, even when I hated him, even when I’m afraid of him. He’s annoyingly handsome in the godly way you find in movie stars and romance heroes. I guess like Vampires and Demons they use their physical appearance to fool you into following them. It’s their sparkle to lure you in.

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out when you get there.” He comes back up from staring under my chain with that look of self-assured master of his kingdom and I severely regret letting him take me out at all. Alexi is unpredictable, and for all I know, he could drag me somewhere insane where I’m highly underdressed. I have no clue what his idea of a date is. It could be a dungeon full of chains and whips and I might never see daylight again.

“I don’t like surprises. I hate not knowing what’s coming.” That’s kind of normal for a life spent running and hiding and looking over your shoulder. I need to feel in control of all my eggs and baskets to feel safe. Worst date ever—to let a man who once destroyed you choose the venue, make all the rules and keep you in the dark about all the details. I’m an idiot.

“Explaining would take longer than just getting there and seeing for yourself. I hope you’re in the mood for Chinese.”

“Chine …” I don’t get chance to argue or say no because he slides my visor down over my face and thumps the helmet on top of my head to make sure it’s on right and almost knocks me senseless with his heavy-handed thud. I gag on an ‘ouch’ because of the stupid hair bulge on top on my head and try not to show him that was bloody sore.

I hate the fact he avoids argument or questioning his plans by being his boorish self and shutting me up. No gentleman in that body of his at all. I know that smack on the head was deflection and I glare at him through my tinted glass with a furrowed brow and diva pout.

My voice is muffled inside my enclosed space and my heavy breathing mists up my visor instantly, making me panic instantly. Claustrophobia and fear, and now I’m locked in here I can feel the hysteria rising.