Dirty Disaster

by Addison Moore

  “It’s Lex, and if you cross that line one more time, I will not only leave this restaurant, I will leave the state, and you will never see the whites of my eyes for the rest of your days.”

  “My apologies.” He gives a slight bow as he holds out my seat and I take it. “Lex, you look stunning tonight.” He seats himself across from me just as the waitress brings us ice water and a bottle of chardonnay. “If you don’t mind, I took the liberty.”

  “You know me well,” I muse as I flick my finger toward the waitress to get the pour going. I’m in need of some vino. I wouldn’t dare drink and drive, but, at the moment, my need for something stronger than water usurps my need to get home in my own vehicle. I’ll Uber if I have to.

  The waitress does as she’s instructed, and I knock back the glass in three big gulps. “Another, please.” I pick up the menu and peruse the offerings before landing it back onto the table. I look up at the pert nosed blonde. “I’m ready to order. I’ll have the house salad. Hold back the toy box tomatoes. Ratatouille vegetable crepes. And a side of grilled asparagus. If there’s a possibility of adding caviar to any of the above dishes, please do so copiously.” I give a sly wink. “The check’s on him tonight.”

  She chortles into her fingers before taking Axel’s order as well. Something far more simpler: prime rib, dill potatoes. I’ve often said you can glean a lot about a person just by what they order in a restaurant. Axel’s carnivorous pickings and carbs delight suggest he’s gearing up for some calisthenics later on this evening, and he might be. It’s just they won’t involve me.

  “That’s quite a lot of protein you’ve opted for.” I meet up with his eyes and can’t help but note the way they glow in the night. Axel’s eyes were the first thing I noticed about him all those years ago.

  “I plan on doing some weightlifting later this evening.” He sheds a guilty grin. “You’re about one twenty-five?”

  “Very funny.” My fingers pluck at my knife before hiking it up on its tip in a maneuver that says I know my way around cutlery and I’m not afraid to use it.

  Axel sobers up as he stares pensively at the blade I’m twisting between my fingers. “Do you remember who we were, Lex?”

  “Yes. Broken and lonely and we departed the same way we met.”

  “Not true. The in-between, the happy times.” He drags those sad puppy dog eyes over to mine, and something in my chest pinches. “The middle where we said I love you as easy as spilling water. When we kissed at least ten times between hello and goodbye. You slept in my apartment more than you did your dorm.”

  “That’s because your sheets had a higher thread count.” My cheek hikes up one side as if trying its best to betray me with a smile.

  “They were always softer with you in them.” His brows dip down as if this were a sad truth. “And come to think of it, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep without you there next to me.”

  “Must have made it tough to pass the bar.”

  “It was.” He leans in, and I inadvertently do the same.

  There has always been a gravitational pull between the two of us, and now knowing what I do, it simply means I should have run the other way even faster.

  He reaches over and lands his warm strong hand over mine, heavy and weighted, and I freeze. I hadn’t anticipated touching. For sure I hadn’t anticipated him looking like a hot stud on fire. As much as I loathe it, this boy is right back to drenching my panties, and we haven’t even crested appetizers.

  “Why are you touching me?” I hiss so low the words are hardly audible.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because that’s what I do just before I reach under the table and come up with a pair of male testicles.”

  He flinches, but his hand remains solid over mine. “I believe you threatened my family jewels on the night we met, too.”

  “If we’ve stepped into some kind of a pattern, then it only proves we’re on a path to destruction. Only this time, there’s no heart inside of me for you to break.” I offer my version of a perky smile. “I’m rather proud of that fact in the event you haven’t noticed.”

  His dimples dip in and out, and my stomach bisects with heat at the sight of them.

  No, no, no! Down, girl. This boy is old news. Yesterday’s trash. Moldy oldie leftovers that will not only give you food poisoning, but take you to the grave.

  Emilia pops into my head with that last horrific thought, and I can feel the conversation bubbling up my throat without my permission.

  “What’s going through your mind?” He rubs his thumb along the inside of my wrist, and that sweet spot between my legs jumps and quivers. My God, it’s been so very long since I had any action. If all it takes to bring me to the brink is a little arm rub, then I’m in more trouble than I thought. Maybe I should leave now and Uber my way to a sex shop and scoop up an entire armful of dildos? God knows there’s a fire burning down in that secret part of me that can only be extinguished in one way, and I sure never thought it was associated with my wrist. That’s a testament to Axel’s sexual prowess on some level, but I’ll never give him the satisfaction.

  “Your sexual prowess.” Holy mother! Did those words just burp from my lips? I knock the wrist fondler off my arm and help myself to another glass of wine. It tastes so necessary going down I’m half-convinced I need to ditch the glass and syphon straight from the bottle.

  A dark laugh rumbles from him, and that dress shirt of his creases with the tautness of his chest. “Now that’s something I can work with. Are you judging based on past experiences, or are you looking for updated information?”

  My mouth opens, and this time I’m set on bringing up poor Emilia. Nothing will kill his joyous attitude or that budding boner in his pants than a topic immersed in grief, but each time I try to say something, ask anything about her, I can’t shove the words past that boulder in my throat. I take another sip of my wine and push her to the back of my mind for now.

  “Updated information?” I try to sound coy as if I were flirting. There’s nothing more devastating than to have your hopes lifted just before they’re slashed to the ground with the machete of your ex-girlfriend’s tongue. “You mean you’ve been honing the craft? I hear you’ve amassed quite the harem. Are you partaking in the syphilis trials at the university? Or are you taking on the communicable diseases on your own? You always did have an adventurous spirit. Tell me, does the rash hurt much? Or does the industrial strength ointment the doctor prescribes make it bearable?”

  “You are a riot.” He leans in and takes up my hand once again, this time threading his fingers through mine. “I’m not the man whore you make me out to be. I won’t lie. There have been girls, Lex, but none of them could cure the pain, fill the void you left in your wake. My body, my bed, my heart—they’re still waiting for you to claim them.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t want or need them. Tend to them as you wish.”

  He frowns at the thought, but his thumb rubs a circle over my palm, and that sweet spot between my legs quivers uncontrollably. My God, did I just? Am I?

  I pull my hand back from him as if yanking it from an orgasmic fire.

  Ax folds his hands together over the table as if accepting his fate while relaxing in his seat. “How about you, Lex? You said there was no one else after me. Why not?” he says it stern as if he were suddenly my father, disappointed in my lack of sexual activity. “You’re beautiful, and young, and way too energetic in bed to be alone. What happened?”

  “I happened.” I turn a shoulder up to him just as the waitress brings our dinner.

  “You mind?” Ax nods to his plate, and I shake my head. It was a long-standing ritual of ours that Ax would say grace quickly over our meals. It was something that wildly attracted me to him in the beginning. Any man brave enough to pray over his food in public had to be strong and confident in all areas of his life, and I was right. Axel was a force to be reckoned with. That is, until the day of our own personal reckoning. I shake all thoughts o
f that terrible time out of my head.

  He says grace, and we get to our meals. Axel carries the conversation, asking about Serena, about Marlin, my psychotic brother who might have played a part in our final demise. Our fragile relationship always felt as if it were on the brink of its demise, but by the time Marlin interfered, we were way past the finish line. My chest aches just thinking about it. I cried for a month straight. Lost ten solid pounds. Hated the sight of food, all because of a stupid boy. This boy—who happened to have morphed into a fine-looking man, and in truth, it scares me. Everything about Axel Collins scares me tonight. Especially how easy it feels to carry on a conversation with him.

  We talk for an hour straight about the Epicurean Elite as he offers up tips to get the website going.

  “That’s some amazing advice. Thank you. I plan on implementing it as soon as I can get the darn thing off the ground. The next step is opening it up to an investor. I’ll need all the capital I can get. No offense to The Pelican, but it will take fifty years to earn half of what I need. And that says a lot about the price tag of my new endeavor, considering the decent tips I make.”

  “I’ll back it.”

  “If you backed it, I’d back out. This is a Collins-free fun zone. And speaking of which”—the waitress hauls away our empty plates, and I’m still warm with the memory of inhaling my favorite meal—“this whole date thing is a one-off.” A stray smile bounces on my lips.

  “If you say so.” Axel glowers at me a moment with those diamond eyes, that stubbled face that I’m half-tempted to slap just so I could feel it. He pours me the last of the wine, and I gladly take the glass to my lips.

  He sheds a smile as I drink as if he has the upper hand, and those cryptic hypersexual words of Raven’s come back to me—if you want to maintain the power position, strike first blood. Land that boy on his back and make him your bitch.

  “So where to?” He drops a few hundred-dollar bills over the center of the table—so smug, so very overly confident that he’s driving this train.

  “To your place, of course.” His eyes widen with disbelief as I bleed a black smile. I’m about to land Axel Collins on his back and make him my female genital licking dog for the night. “It’s time for dessert.”

  Axel takes up my hand and whisks me to the exit as if swiftly guiding us out of a burning building.

  The Jepson Towers is an alarmingly posh architectural wonder, nothing gaudy, simple marble floors and counters, the elevators sheathed in mirrors, and for the first time I see us there, standing hand in hand, looking every bit like a couple, and there’s a familiarity about it that startles me.

  Axel doesn’t dare say a word. He’s frozen stiff as a statue right up until we board the elevator. It zooms us to the top so fast it’s as if all of his anxiety about me changing my mind had boosted its efforts. We step out into the quiet hush of the carpeted hall. A giant set of ficus plants tower next to a set of heavily carved doors, dark mahogany with a Spanish flare. Axel lets us in and secures the door shut behind us, bolting it twice in hopes to at least slow me down once I decide to hit the exit.

  “It’s stunning,” I say, my breath bated at the sight. Axel’s penthouse is cavernous, dark wood floors, high ceilings, impeccably furnished with a plush gray sectional large enough to easily accommodate fifty people. A large screen television floats against the wall, but my eyes dart to the kitchen. It’s an open floor plan, so the holy trinity—kitchen, dining room, and living room—are all more or less conjoined. I don’t waste a moment before traipsing over and examining the high-end appliances, the impeccable marble countertop that looks new as the day they laid it. That double oven has me drooling, and is that a steamer? It’s safe to say Axel is outgunned in his very own home. From what I remember, his specialty was burning waffles in the toaster oven.

  “Do you approve?” He gives my hand a squeeze, and it’s only then I note he’s still holding it.

  “I more than approve. I take it you don’t spend much time in here, though. It’s a waste if you ask me.” I scowl over at the appliances as if they’ve just personally offended me.

  Axel leans in with the side of his face pressed to my neck as he makes his way to my ear. “They’ve been waiting for you.”

  The scent of his cologne sets my senses on fire, and my eyes close initially as I tilt my head back. The world spins in a blissful way I haven’t felt in oh so long, and for a brief moment I never want to open my eyes again. I never want this feeling to end. His arms find their way around my waist as he spins me into him, his stubbled cheek lies flush to mine and feels surprisingly soft, his breath warms my lips as his mouth inches ever so close.

  My heart drums within me at unsafe speeds, my blood pressure skyrockets as fight-or-flight kicks in. Axel presses me close to him by the small of my back, my body adhering to his rock-hard chest, and I can make out each chiseled detail with my flesh. My thighs begin to shake and quiver, my breathing quickens, and suddenly everything about this scenario has me lightheaded.

  “Lex,” Axel groans as his lips brush over mine, and my entire body jolts from their touch.

  My hands slap over his chest, and I push him away in one swift move. “Cheese and rice, what have I done?” I jump back, suddenly aware of my surroundings as if I had somehow teleported here instead of striding right in on my own volition.

  “Wait, Lex.” Axel reaches for my hand, but I pull away in fear I won’t be able to resist his charms if he gets ahold of me one more time.

  “Don’t you wait Lex me! Wine plus Raven equals stupid, stupid decisions! I played right into both your grubby little hands.” I spin on my heels, slapping my palm over my forehead. “How could I have fallen so far so fast?”

  Axel pops up and wraps his arms back around my body as if they belonged there—as if I wasn’t about to pluck them off at the shoulder.

  “Keep your hands where they are and I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your days brushing your teeth with your feet.”

  Those blessed by God features openly frown at me, those dimples depress, and something about those watery gray eyes pinches my stomach. There are only a handful of people who have that effect on me. There are only a few people in general whom I’ve ever wanted anything to do with, and once upon a time Axel Collins was one of them.

  He holds his arms up in surrender but doesn’t bother to widen the gap between us. “I like my hands right where God put them. How about a drink?”

  “A drink?” I lean in until we’re just about nose-to-nose. “I bet you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” I poke my finger hard in his chest. “Me—staggering drunk, begging you to have me, doing a strip tease on your coffee table, dropping to my knees and biting you in all the right places!” He winces when I say it. “Ha!” I laugh right over his lips, and he sheds an annoying smile that shakes me to my core with rage. “How dare you laugh at me. How dare you think you have the upper hand in this relationship.”

  “Is that what we have? A relationship?” His forefinger caresses my cheek, and a chill runs down my spine, tingling all the way to my toes. My God, just one night. What could it hurt? Wait—what am I saying? Why am I suddenly so confused? I’m Lex the Ice Queen Maxfield. Things happen when and where I dictate them. This won’t happen to me. This will happen for me.

  “I know you, Lex,” he rumbles so deep the words resonate like thunder deep down in my bones. “You want us back just as much as I do.”

  “The hell I do.”

  His eyes widen with the expletive.

  “The only thing I want is this.” I press my lips to his, my entire body wrapping around him like a vine. Those cushion soft lips of his open and I fall right in, our tongues touching for the first time in so long my entire body swims with relief. I want this. I need this. And I hate Axel Collins for making me feel both of those things.

  His tongue does a hungry revolution around my mouth, and we both expel a hearty groan at the very same time. A dull chuckle rattles both of our chests, but we don’t bre
ak our stride, our mouths still very much fused as this kiss permeates every last part of my being. It’s as if I had been holding my breath for all these years, and this, the first perfect breath I’ve craved for so long, is healing something deep inside of me.

  But he’s not. The only thing this mouth to mouth will produce is more confusion, and if there’s anything I hate more than Axel Collins it’s confusion.

  “Stop.” I pull back and crash my open palm over that sexy stubbled cheek, and the action alone makes me smile.

  “Geez!” His fingers dance over ground zero as he gives a stunned, wild-eyed look.

  “I’m not doing this with you!” I slap my hands over his chest and send him flying back a good three feet. “We are over, Collins! Get that through your bright-eyed, bushy-tailed brain! All of your nefarious intentions for the evening have come to naught.” I pounce over and smack my hands over his chest once again. “Take that!” I pound my fists over that granite he’s housing under his shirt even though I realize the effort is futile. Axel is built like a brick wall. “You may not stomp all over me one more time. I’m not some silly little plaything that falls in and out of your bed whenever the heck you feel like it.” I slam my fist into his stomach in a ridiculous attempt to hurt him, and his body doesn’t flinch. I look up to meet with his eyes, a raging fire exuding from my own.

  “Feel better?” He’s somewhere between stern and bored, and it’s all I can do not to scream in his face. Oh, what the hell.

  “Aarrrghhhh!”

  He gives a hard blink before his lips curve at the tips as if they lived to undermine my emotions. “Are you done?”

  “Yes.” My chest pulsates in and out, and I’m hardly able to contain my breathing. Not in any of my fantasies combined did I ever release that much fury in one quick burst.

  “Good.” He steps in and leashes his hand behind my neck, pulling me toward him as his mouth latches over mine once again, and a scream rises and falls in my throat. But this time, instead of throttling him into tomorrow, I tear off his sports coat and give his tie a hard tug, quick and stiff enough to lynch him. But Axel is equally as unrelenting. He secures me to him with a death grip. His hands ride down to my bare thighs as he rakes his fingers up toward my thighs, bringing my dress up past my hips. I grip him by the hair at his temples and pull him back with a violent aggression.