Her bright brown eyes grow dark as she studies my face. She reaches on her thigh for a napkin.
“You, um...” She holds the tip of the napkin in the air inches from my mouth. “Do you mind if I…”
I’m not objecting to anything she wants to do to me. But, I’m assuming I have something on my face, so I just shake my head. “No.”
She carefully brings her hand to my lips, her eyes locked with mine. My heart pounds against my ribs. I hold my breath as she wipes the corner of my mouth. Her movements are so calculated and delicate. Don’t think, love. Just do. I can tell by the way her eyes fall to my lips, the throbbing pulse in her neck, and the rise and fall of her breasts as her breath comes shorter and faster that she’s curious. It takes everything in me not to grab her by the wrist and pull her on my lap and kiss her like nobody’s watching.
“There,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, as she puts the napkin in the paper bag.
“Thanks.” I’m still debating on the kissing thing.
Emma didn’t give me a chance to dwell on seducing her for long. As soon as she took the last sip of her strawberry shake, she was up and leading me to one of the terra cotta tile roofed gazebos. The scent of Cuban cigars fills the air as we walk past tables of old timers playing dominos. About halfway through, one of them stops us and asks her name.
He pats the top of his thigh, “Have a seat, young lady. I could use a bit of luck,” he flirts.
Emma laughs and pats his shoulder as she takes a look at the board then the dominos displayed before him. “You’re gonna need more than luck,” she teases with a chuckle. I could get used to this side of her. It reminds me of the woman I first met at the coffee shop who cracked jokes about my wife and the pool guy.
The older man laughs with her. “I like a gal with spunk,” he says with a wink.
One of the other gentleman across from him pulls his cigar from his mouth and focuses his attention on Emma. “You know what women and noodles have in common?” he asks, his eyes laughing as Emma throws her head back and rolls her eyes.”Don’t tell me you’ve heard this one,” he adds, disappointed.
She shakes her head and laughs, encouraging him to continue with his joke.
“They both wiggle when you eat ‘em.”
His buddies laugh as if this is the first time they’ve heard it, even though I’m sure it’s a daily routine. Emma is obviously familiar with their banter because she doesn’t even blush at the inappropriate content.
“Oh you’re good,” she flatters, “But do you know which one of these birds gives the best head?” She’s playing along. The quiet woman who blushes when I touch her is standing in front of me sharing dirty jokes with a table full of strangers. She’s an enigma, and I am completely mesmerized by her. The old men appear to be just as enraptured by her as I am right now. She’s got everyone at the table’s attention. When no one answers, she pipes back in. “A swallow,” she says, without flinching.
“You better hold tight onto this one,” the original jokester tells me, shifting his eyes from me back to Emma. “Someone’s gonna steal her.”
This time she blushes. Of all the comments, this is the one that embarrasses her.
Trust me, sir. I plan on it. I’m just waiting for the right time.
Emma
I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed, this carefree. It’s as if I’ve found the missing puzzle pieces and am finally starting to put myself back together. Alex held my hand as we walked back to his SUV, and it felt nice. Really nice.
He didn’t handle it well when we got back to the gym and I refused to let him walk me to my car.
“I promise I won’t follow you home,” he says, a lighthearted intimation in his tone.
If only he knew. I don’t have a home. Not anymore.
“I don’t mean you can’t walk me. I mean I didn’t drive here. I ubered.” It’s not a lie. I did call an uber. It just happened to be from the subdivision on the other side of the woods after I ran from a man who terrifies me.
“Lucky for you, I don’t have plans right now,” Alex quips, “And I happen to have a car and a full tank of gas.”
“So, I suppose you’re offering to give me a ride?”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll give you my number. Then I’ll send you a text describing my car. I might even let you pay me.” His smile screams mischief.
God, I wish it were that simple. Nothing in my life is simple these days. But this afternoon changed all that. I finally saw what it feels like to be happy, truly happy, and there’s no going back.
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”
There’s no way I’m letting him know I’m staying at a hotel. I’ve already showed up at his gym like a crazy person, twice. Now that I think about it, I have no idea why he isn’t running away screaming right now. Instead, he takes a step forward, closing the space between us so that our bodies are inches apart.
“Time is never wasted if you’re happy with what you spend it on.” He takes my hand again, bringing it to his chest, imploring me with his eyes. “You can trust me, love. Whatever you have going on in here,” he gently taps my temple, “it’s safe with me. And so are you.”
“I don’t need you to drive me anywhere, Alex.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated huff, his mouth forming a tight line across his face. “Did you hear a single word I just said?”
I squeeze the hand that’s holding mine then reach to stroke the curve of his jaw. “I heard you. I don’t need you to drive me… because I’m staying in a hotel three blocks away.”
His brow creases in curiosity. “A hotel?”
I let my hand fall from his chin to his chest, calming myself with the tempered beat of his heart.
“Walk with me?” I ask, avoiding his question but earning a smile.
“Lead the way.”
“So, the boxing, that’s a hobby?” I pry, because I want to know more about this man who has crept his way into my life and effortlessly taken root in my soul. We walk past restaurants and boutiques, people watching and pointing out catchy window scenes as if it’s something we’ve been doing together for years.
“I wouldn’t call it a hobby, no. More like a passion.”
“And the suit?”
His posture stiffens at the mention of his day job. “I’m an Alexander. We’re pretty much born with a bar exam attached to our birth certificate.”
“A lawyer?” Not my first guess, but definitely not a surprise. I’d have pegged him for a CEO, taking important calls in a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows and coffee delivery on speed dial.
“My father was an attorney. His father was an attorney, as was his father before him. Law school was as much a part of the plan as learning to walk.” Something in his tone tells me his career is more of an obligation than a choice.
“Do you enjoy it?”
The siren of a police car speeding by startles me, making Alex take my hand. Why am I so jumpy? Because I know at any given moment this could all end. All it would take is for Bastain to drive by and see me on the sidewalk. My nerves get the best of me and I start to walk faster. Alex gives my hand a tug, slowing my pace. He doesn’t call attention to my mini panic attack. He keeps me steady and focused on our conversation.
“I’m good at it,” he replies, his voice cool and commanding.
“That wasn’t the question,” I peer at him from the corner of my eye, a smile pulling at the corner of my lips.
“I enjoy being good at it.”
My heart silently breaks for him, thinking he spends his days sacrificing his happiness trying to live up to someone else’s expectations. I know all too well what that’s like. “If you could go back- choose your own path- where would you go?”
He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’d have my own gym.”
I can see that in him. He seems very much in his element when he’s ditched the shirt and t
ie. Although, I’ll take him either way. My heart drops as we approach the entrance of the hotel, knowing this is where we say goodbye. As much as I’m aching to invite him up, I know that can’t happen. There’s a battle brewing between my heart and mind, and I have to find a way to make peace with them both before I can even think about what my body wants.
“I learned something today. And it’s that life’s too short not to do what makes you happy.”
Warmth spreads across my skin as his eyes meet mine, drinking me in. I hold his stare, recognizing his need for more. I feel it too. I’ve always felt it, but it has to be this way, at least for now. “This is me,” I say, nodding toward the hotel lobby and relieving him from the obligation to reply to my earlier comment.
“I guess this is it, then,” he acknowledges.
We stand there, silent, for several seconds before I make the move to go inside.
“Maybe you could call me sometime?”
The smile I’ve come to adore flickers across his face as he pulls his phone from his jean pocket. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
After he takes my number, he wraps me in a hug. I could stow away in his arms, concealed forever from the outside world. “See ya,” I whisper against his neck. After an entire day of walking Little Havana then the three blocks here, he still smells as delicious as when he first sat beside me in the boxing ring.
“See ya,” he mutters back before releasing me from his grasp.
I haven’t thought about Gatsby or Bastain, or the fact that for the first time in five years I won’t be sleeping in my own bed. Until the moment I’m standing at the front desk of a nice hotel and I realize I have no luggage. I’m not here to relax or get away. This isn’t a vacation. I have no clue where I’ll be sleeping tomorrow night. I just know that a big part of my life was taken from me today, ripped from beneath my feet, leaving me fighting to keep my balance.
I’m surrounded by men in suits, preoccupied with the voice on the other end of their cell phones and mothers telling their children to stay close. I wonder what their stories are, if they’re anything like mine. I work to focus on the memory of today and my time with Alex as I press the round, silver button on the elevator. I can’t let myself get lost in the hopelessness. I have to start a new foundation built on the promise of my own happiness.
My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice just as the doors begin to close. Alex’s palm slams against the steel, forcing it open again.
“What are you doing?” I question, trying to decide if I’m excited to see him again so soon or scared of what might happen next.
His golden brown eyes are dark with unguarded desire. He backs me against the rear wall of the elevator. My heart flutters with anticipation as his hard body presses against me. He locks his fingers with mine and leans down, his breath against my throat. “I’m taking your advice,” he tells me, “and doing what makes me happy.” He pins my hands above my head, pressing deeper into my body. He’s hard. I can feel his erection against my stomach. Oh God. He breathes against my neck again, sending an instant throbbing between my thighs. I have to squeeze them together to quench the ache. “I have to taste you, Emma,” he growls, rolling his hips against mine as his teeth graze the pulse in my throat.
He’s not the only one. I crave the taste of him. I crave the feel of him. I crave the smell of him… on me. I tilt my head to the side, giving him what he wants. He brings his hand to my hair, leaving my arms free to lock around his neck, drawing him closer, if that’s even possible. He tugs at my ponytail, prompting my mouth open. Take it. Please. His tongue pushes inside, hungry, needy, wanting. I grind my hips against his for something, anything, to relieve the burning ache within my core. He releases me from the kiss, keeping his face in front of mine, forehead against forehead, nose against nose. His breath whispers across my skin. “I’m going to need more of this,” he says, low and throaty, “Soon.”
Me too.
The electronic female voice announces my floor just before the elevator doors open. I’m still steadying my breath when Alex takes my hand and leads me out into the hall. The sign on the wall points us in the direction of room 412.
He’s walking me to my room. Of course he’s walking me to my room.
He wants more. I want more.
I’m not ready for this. I’m so ready for this.
Stop overthinking.
I hold the key card over the black sensor until the light flashes green. My heart races with every step we take. I mentally remind myself I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. That’s what scares me. My body is light years ahead of my mind. It knows what it wants, and what it wants is Alex. But my mind keeps telling me this isn’t right, that I need to pace things.
The red light flashes on the nightstand phone, peaking my curiosity. I set the card on the notepad next to it and press the button to retrieve my messages. Maybe it’s my credit card. It’s new and I’ve never used it before now. If there were an issue with my card, they would have said so when I checked in, right? It’s probably nothing.
Alex traces his index finger across the top edge of the desk at the foot of the king size bed as he patiently waits for my attention. I’m stalling. I know it. He probably knows it. But, I’m nervous. I haven’t been alone in a room with a man other than Bastain in years. And being alone with Bastain doesn’t count for much. Most of the time he’d roll over and fall asleep before I ever even touched him, leaving me lying on my back staring at the ceiling for answers.
“Good evening, Ms. McClain. This is Kyle with concierge. Please call our desk for an important message.”
Concierge? Don’t they deal with things like packages and luggage? I don’t have either of those. There must be a mistake. They must have the wrong room. Alex watches me in silence, resting his butt against the wood surface. His eyes are locked on mine, still dark with need. I hold up a finger, letting him know I’ll just be a minute longer.
“Hi, this is Emma McClain in room 412. I had a message to call,” I tell the man on the other end of the line.
“Yes, Ms. McClain. A man from the dealership that’s been servicing your car stopped by. He asked that we let you know your vehicle is ready and he’ll be delivering it first thing in the morning.”
The air freezes in my lungs. The walls close in around me. I can’t speak. I can’t move. I must have lost all color in my complexion because Alex darts across the room, sitting on the bed next to me. He’s studying my reaction, asking unspoken questions with his eyes.
“This man, did he leave his name?”
I ask for more information, but I already know the answer. I don’t have a car at a dealership. But I know someone who does. Several cars, in fact. Because he owns the dealership. I hold my breath and wait for the solidification of my fear. The man pauses, as if he’s checking on something.
“Mr. Castille with Castille Chevrolet,” he returns.
I lose my grip, and the receiver falls to the bed. I watch, terrified, as Alex picks it up and places it back on the nightstand. He brings his hand to my forehead, tracing a fingertip along my hairline and down to my jaw.
“Emma? Love? Talk to me,” he pleads.
I can’t. I don’t know what to say. His touch is soothing, but I can’t let myself relax.
“We have to go,” I insist. His eyes search mine for any kind of sign as to what’s just happened. “Now.”
Emma
He found me.
It doesn’t matter what I do. I can’t hide. I’ll never be free.
I can’t just sit here paralyzed by fear. I need to get Alex out of here. There’s no guarantee Bastain isn’t sitting across the street right now, waiting, watching. Alex didn’t ask for any of this. Bastain won’t stop until there’s a fight, and he doesn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.
“You need to go,” I urge him. He doesn’t budge.
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” he argues.
Everything I’ve learned about this man so far
tells me he’s not bluffing. “Fine. But we leave now.”
He stands as I stand, waiting for me to lead the way, watching as I move to the door. “Aren’t you going to get your things?”
“I don’t have things anymore.”
Alex keeps a firm grip on my hand as we head out the rear entrance and down an adjacent street until we reach the gym. “Get in,” he orders when we get to his SUV. I’m not equipped, physically or mentally, to argue with him. I have a feeling it wouldn’t do much good even if I did.
“Where are we going?” Not that it matters. For the third time in six weeks, I’m trusting him with my safety.
“My flat,” he answers, not asking if I’m okay with it, not concerned with what we’re running from. He’s just… calm, controlled.
Without leaving the neighborhood, he pulls into a parking garage, turning into spot number 78 on level C, then kills the engine. Alex faces me, lowering his chin but keeping his eyes focused on mine. “If I’m going to help you, love, you’re going to have to let me in,” he whispers low in his throat.
“If I do, there’s no going back- for either of us. Are you ready for that?”
“I’ve been ready since the first moment I saw you in that coffee shop.”
His response both terrifies me and soothes me at the same time. I hope he means it. He wants the truth, no matter how ugly it might get. Well, the truth is, sometimes people make mistakes- decisions that change lives. And the cold, harsh reality of it is we have to live with that. The price is high, and the debt is ours to pay. Am I ready for this? Can I let him in, really let him in? I suppose the real question is, will he leave when he finds out who I really am, what I’ve done. I find myself lost in the depths of kindness in his eyes and know that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
I knew Alex’s home would be nice, but this is unexpectedly crisp and meticulously clean. A deep red leather sectional stands out against soft gray hardwood floors and white walls adorned with black and white prints of different landmarks across the world. I wonder if these are places he’s traveled, mementos he brings back with him to keep his memories close. He walks over to the wall of windows, pressing a button on a tiny remote. Black velvety fabric closes over the glass, leaving the lights of the city behind on the other side. He walks into the kitchen, calling out to me from behind the large island that separates that area from the living room.
The Perfect Gentleman Page 10
