Alex relegates himself to his study, answering emails and tying up some loose ends, but I can sense he's upset I'm not spending one-on-one time with him. I can't blame him, really. Even I've been feeling detached. We haven't had any real together time since earlier in the week when he asked me to live with him.
That's another source of angst. The thought of losing my identity scares me so badly that I refuse to address it. Being with Alex feels so right, and I love going to bed with him at night and waking up with him in the morning. I just can't seem to get past the part where I'm giving everything up for him. I have relied on myself and taken care of those who were supposed to take care of me for most of my life. Suddenly, the lack of control and independence feels like a stranglehold, and I fear I'll suffocate.
Unless there's a way for me to live with Alex without giving up my independence. The thought hits me, nearly leveling me. I cannot believe I didn't think of this earlier!
The spark of clarity excites me enough to put off what I'm doing and find Alex. The study is dimly lit. The desk chair is empty, and his laptop closed. Peering around the door, I see Alex sitting next to the small lamp, reading The Wall Street Journal. I slide next to him on the couch, and he folds up the newspaper and places it on the side table.
Despite being sure of what I am about to do, my heart thumps hard in my chest. "Okay, I have an answer to your question—request. The invitation? The thing you want me to do." I'm stalling before spilling my very atypical, unthought-out response. "But I need something in return."
A thin line appears across his mouth, and the stress lines on his forehead become more prominent. He is a man used to getting his way, and I'm guessing I might be the only woman in the world who balks at living with him.
"I'll move in with you. I'll live here, even after the construction is done on my place, but—"I take a deep breath while Alex exhales loudly—"I want to keep my place."
And here it comes...
He shifts and drops his head to the side. I didn't think it was possible for the grim line of his mouth to be more prominent, but his lips have taken on an eerie white, and all the blood's been extricated from pursing them so tightly.
Dang, where are his thoughts taking him that is evoking such a scary response?
His eyes darken as he peers at me suspiciously.
I speak quickly, before the vein in his neck explodes. "Not because I want it as an escape or a place to run to. In fact, and this is not as well thought out as I would like, but maybe we can rent it out. Use it as investment property. It's just—God, you're not going to understand this—I grew up poor. Dirt fucking poor. I bought the townhouse all on my own. Just me. No one helped. I did everything. I made all the decisions, secured the loan, and made the down payment. I dreamt all my life and worked my ass off to get to the point where I could buy property for a million dollars. And yes, that was my demarcation. Where I predetermined I had 'made it on my own.’ I know this probably seems like nothing to you, but it's huge for me, especially if you'd seen where I came from—which you never will, thank God."
I take a breath to calm my nerves a bit. "I'm just not ready to let it go. I know it's just property, but it's a defining moment in my life, and I don't have many of those that were actually positive. I feel like I've lost so much of myself over the years, and I want to hang on to it a little longer."
I brace myself in anticipation of Alex blowing up, his hurt feelings and inability to control me reaching its boiling point. Instead, he takes a deep breath. His eyes soften, and the blood rushes from the vein in his neck back to his near dead lips.
He turns and caresses the side of my face. "First of all, of course I understand how you feel. I didn't just wake up one morning with all of this. And you have every right to be proud of your accomplishments. I don't know much about your childhood—I hope that changes soon—but I'm extremely proud of you. Every time I learn something new about you, I’m astounded. I'm in awe of you. And you should never apologize for wanting to be successful.
"Second, I like the idea of making your townhouse a rental property. It's in an excellent location, and I think if we do this right, we can make some good money for you with it. Besides, I'm always looking for a good investment, and you are an excellent investment. And, third—" He pulls me toward him, his eyes smoldering. He slides down the couch, and drags me on top of him. "Welcome home, roomie." His voice is sensual and seductive.
Heat hits me instantly.
I move my mouth moves over his and splay my hands out across his chest. I straddle him as we lie there, his erection growing inside his tight jeans. A tingling sensation follows his hands as they lazily travel from my ankles to the curves of my bent legs before resting on my hips. I maneuver along him, his tip shifting along the inner seam of my pants. Back and forth. I tense with the friction and pressure of being fully clothed. The pace is torturously slow. Alex sucks air in through his teeth. My body is begging for a faster pace, but I remain unhurried, fighting with every ounce of self-discipline I have, and I balance on the edge of an orgasm.
"Alex." I drop my head and my long locks fall around his face.
"Mmm...let go, baby." He plunges his tongue deep inside my mouth, stifling my moans.
My body bucks against him. I pull away, gasping. I need something more.
Lingering above him, I watch his eyes light up. The excitement and pleasure stoke the fires raging in me. I bite my lower lip. His thrusts against my pelvis build to a frenzy. He lazes his thumb sensuously back and forth across my lip, freeing it before slipping it inside my mouth. I suck hard to get it in deeper, and swirl my tongue around the tip.
"Oh, Jesus, Kylie." Short low moans escape from him, growing louder the more intense the motion becomes and the closer he gets to completely unraveling.
I slow, wanting to prolong our lovemaking, wanting Alex to beg me for release.
"Damn it, Kylie." He digs his fingers into my hips, and moves against me faster.
I grab his hands and teasingly drag my tongue along his lips. After a few more excessively slow runs along him, I finally pick up the pace, my own body beginning to protest. Feeling him push against me with such a lack of control lifts me to the summit of my own climax.
I grab his shoulders, his shirt tight in my fists. "Come for me, baby. Come hard for me." My voice is soft but needy.
His mouth is over mine. The sudden jerks indicate he's found his release, and I shatter with him. It seems like minutes pass as we ride the endless wave of our mutual orgasm, unable to let go of each other, sealing our pact to share a home.
I collapse on top of him, and wraps his arms around me.
"How do you do that?" he whispers in my ear.
"What?" I ask, breathlessly.
"Make each time more mind-blowing than the last? And with all our clothes on. That's another first."
"That's all you, babe. You bring out the best in me." My words are broken by my attempts to suck in air.
He's quiet for a minute. "I'm nothing without you, Kylie."
I nestle into his chest.
In two weeks, I've met a completely unavailable man and made him unavailable in a whole new way. I lost my house but gained a home and investment property. Been stalked, harassed, beaten, and saved.
What the hell will the next two weeks bring?
Chapter Thirty
I pour my second cup of coffee, and recall the sexual encounter from the night before. Alex’s silly grin as he carried me into our bedroom, making a grandiose gesture of laying me down on our bed. His excitement was infectious, and I played along, informing him when I woke that I was going into our kitchen to start our coffee. His broad smile and naked body nearly had me jumping back in bed next to him for another round of roommate sex. Instead, I left him snuggling into my pillow.
Pajama bottom–clad, he saunters into the kitchen. Gliding up in front of me, he places his hands on my hips. "You're dressed," he says, kissing along my neck.
My breathing quickens, a
nd my knees go weak. "You're not."
He presses his lips against mine, reaches behind me for a coffee cup, somehow able to maintain his position against me. "How did you sleep?"
I lightly scratch his back and kiss his soft bare shoulder. "Really well. Best sleep all week actually."
"Hmm...me, too. Curious." He playfully bites along my lower lip.
"Curious," I mimic. I love these little moments with Alex and hope they define our relationship more than anything else. The small nothing moments mean everything. These pockets where we can just be together without any intervening problems. It's just the two of us, unscripted—sharing, laughing, and enjoying each other.
The doorbell rings.
"That'll be Lisa," I murmur.
Jake breezes through the kitchen on his way to answer the door, which only invites Alex to continue kissing me. It is a prolonged sweet, simple kiss, not a kiss intended to go any further. One that connects us and reminds us of what we mean to each other.
I hear the front door close, and soft voices filtering in from the foyer. Alex groans, pulls away from me, and gazes into my eyes. I know he feels what I'm feeling—complete.
An unfamiliar scent lingers in the kitchen. "Did Jake put on cologne?"
Jake escorts Lisa into the kitchen.
Wow!
This is not the same girl from the office. She has on a tighter-than-usual pink top and white shorts. Her hair is down, and she has taken great care with her makeup, including the shiny pink lip gloss. Over her shoulder is an overnight bag, that looks more like a hockey bag, bulging at the seams. I envision an outfit for every eventuality, and wonder how many are short and silky with a built-in push-up bra.
God bless her. I hope she gets lucky.
Jake relieves her of the bag, and she smiles sweetly at him. Jake’s face goes from a light shade of pink to tomato red in two-point-two seconds flat. It's just about the most adorable thing I've seen from the oversized, gruff teddy bear of a man.
Lisa spots us, and her eyes widen as she takes in the beauty that is Alex standing before her.
"I brought some muffins from the place we usually go. I can't think of the name..." Her eyes are fixed on Alex's tanned bare chest.
I can't blame her, really. It has the same effect on me, and I see it daily.
Alex turns to me and gives me a quick kiss before taking his coffee and exiting the kitchen. "Good morning, Lisa. It's nice to see you again."
"It's nice to see you," Lisa replies. Her gaze follows Alex out of the kitchen, and she turns a deeper shade of scarlet.
I walk over and take the muffins from Jake. "Can you show Lisa to her room and help her get settled while I put these on a plate and make another pot of coffee?"
He nods, and Lisa follows him down the hall. I wonder if Jake will lay claim to her right now or wait until tonight? If I had to commit, I'd lay odds that he's kissing her until her toes curl, effectively erasing any lingering thoughts of a half-naked Alex in her head.
For most of the day, Lisa and I go over the order I plan to introduce evidence during the trial. The boys—Alex and Jake—stay clear of the area and remain in their respective offices to allow us work uninterrupted. At some point, sandwiches appear on the table, and I'm not sure where exactly they came from, but I'm relieved someone thought to feed us.
By late afternoon, we are running through the trial software and making final determinations on placement, accompanying questions, and points I want to make. I move toward the projection against the wall to get a closer look at a photo. Alex and Jake stand at the back of the room.
Of particular concern to me are the two pictures of the victim lying on the floor. One photo is a close-up of her neck, showing telltale marks of strangulation and denoting a personal attack—not one from a hired gun as the prosecution alleges. The second shows objects scattered and broken around her, leading one to believe there was a fight and not a single blow to the head from behind.
"Don't we want the victim on the floor first and then the neck picture following it? Make the point right away, being up-front that there was a struggle?" Lisa argues.
"No. We introduce the neck first. Look at it. There's still a lot of blood present in the photo, as well as part of the victim's face. We introduce this, have the doctor explain what's relevant, and then take it down as soon as we can. We don't want the jury to have time to look at the entire photo and become disgusted by the blood or her white lips. It'll work against us. Let them see there are marks on the neck and then move on. The second photo just shows the crime scene."
Lisa tilts her head to the side. "Yeah, but you can see her lying there. You said you don't want them to see the victim?"
"True, but she's just lying there on the floor, and it's from a good distance away. She hasn't been turned over, so she's still on her stomach, and we can't see her face. She's anonymous. There's no visual connection to the victim. Minimal blood visible from this angle, so no one will lose their lunch. It's a safer pic to have up for an extended period of time while we discuss the crime scene. It won't turn them against Tony—in theory."
Lisa nods, confirmation the argument makes sense outside my head. That makes me feel a little better.
Alex looks from the photo to me as I answer Lisa's questions. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilts his head to one side, pausing to examine the photo.
Alex Stone, businessman extraordinaire, captivated by what I'm doing. How cool is that?
Alex drops down next to me on the couch and drapes his arm around my shoulder. "Steaks will be ready in ten minutes. Will you be working after dinner, or shall I make a pitcher of margaritas?"
"Oh, steaks and Alex Stone's margaritas? No more work tonight."
Alex laughs and kisses me on the forehead before returning to his grill on the patio. I know this is one area I can give on that will hopefully ease the pain of the upcoming week. Alex's possessiveness is going to be a challenge when I'm in trial mode and unavailable physically, mentally, and emotionally.
The four of us—Lisa, Jake, Alex and I—finish off the third pitcher of margaritas after feasting on perfectly grilled filet mignons, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob. I never in a million years would've taken Alex as a grill master, but I can add that to the growing list of talents he possesses.
We move from the table to the seating area in front of a large stone outdoor fireplace next to the pool and hot tub. Alex and I snuggle up on the love seat while Jake and Lisa occupy oversized chairs opposite us.
Lisa is explaining her childhood, growing up in a large blue-collar family. There was no money to help with college, so Lisa went to the local community college and received an associate's degree in paralegal studies. She's been attending college at night and will graduate with a bachelor's degree in December. I had absolutely no idea, and I'm more than slightly embarrassed.
It strikes me that I know so little about Lisa, whom I've worked with for more than five years. I need to take more of an interest in people and not shut them out. I'll start with Lisa—right after the trial.
"Well," Alex announces, "Kylie says you're smarter than most attorneys she knows."
I clink my glass against his. "Fuckin' A, Bubba." My words slur a bit.
"Are you applying to law schools?" Alex sucks down the remainder of his drink, apparently unaware, or unconcerned, this is a personal matter and none of our business.
I decide to go along with the inquisition since my curiosity is piqued.
"Oh, no." Lisa shakes her head and swirls the straw in her half-empty margarita. "I just set a goal to get a bachelor's degree. Jack said it will help in the future with raises and bonuses and stuff."
"Why not go to law school? You obviously have an excellent grasp of the subject. You're smart and young. And you would have an excellent mentor." Alex points to me, empty drink in hand, and the ice clinks against the glass.
She smiles and something sparks in her eyes. "That's true, but I can't afford to leave the firm and go to
law school. Besides, I love working with Kylie." She gives a not-so-convincing smile. "I don't need to be a lawyer. I'm good with where I am."
* * *
"You should think about it," Alex insists, always authoritative and the man in charge.
He refills all our glasses and shakes the empty pitcher at us. "More?"
"No!" the three of us exclaim in unison.
Alex is already in bed when I crawl in next to him and snuggle against his chest. "No sex tonight, Mr. Stone. My assistant doesn't need to hear my loud screams of passion."
"That's just a challenge now," he says. "Besides, we might hear hers. Did you see the way those two were looking at each other? I'm guessing they didn't even make it to Jake's room and are currently fucking like rabbits on the stairs."
"Thanks for that mental picture, babe. Not sure I want an image of Jake screwing my assistant in my mind's eye."
A deep chuckle breaks free from his chest. "Sorry. So why does that mean we can't have sex? That's not fair. I get a girl for Jake to do, ensuring he's happy for a while, but I get screwed—without the benefit of actual intercourse? That is some kind of shit, baby."
I smile, knowing Alex is kidding—mostly. "If I could actually have sex with you and be quiet, I would be humping you right now, but that has yet to happen. I can't help but make ecstatic inappropriately loud moans while you're drilling me."
Alex leans in and kisses me. "That's very base. I should get you drunk more often. Your language becomes uninhibited and crude. I like it."
I push him away. "Don't try to seduce me with fancy compliments, Stone. I'm not falling for it. No sex. Period."
"Were we really loud?" I push the mass of unruly auburn hair away from my face and drag in gulps of air to get my breathing under control.
Alex rolls onto his side and grins like a madman."I don't care. That was amazing, and I don't give a shit who heard us." Alex says through labored breathing. "I got you to come four times. New record."
Of Demons & Stones: A Tri-Stone Trilogy Page 20
