We stand there for minutes, hours, I don’t know. He’s leaning on me, regaining his breathing as I hold onto his shoulders and gently stroke his back, my legs still wrapped around him. It’s then that I remember seeing the tattoo on his back. I can’t see what it is from this angle. I couldn’t last night either. It's black writing of some sort. Sod it, I’ll look at it later. I’m seriously too busy enjoying this moment to give a shit about anything else.
“I’m sure you will probably kill me at this rate,” are the next words I hear from him. “Do you have any idea of the effect you have on me?” Oh. Good... I think.
“One night with me and you’re done for?” I question teasingly, giggling. His eyebrow rises as he squeezes tighter against me, grabbing at a sponge on the wall behind me. He moves back and I get to see those wonderful eyes in full view again, a smirk of amusement lingering that makes me realise the other man has left and Alex is back again.
“I have little control around you, Miss Scott. I’m not entirely comfortable with that scenario. It is... confusing,” he states, frowning while lathering up the sponge and moving it across me in soft circles. He’s washing me?
“Oh, stop being such a grump. You can’t live your life completely in control. Give a little of your power away every now and then,” I reply as he moves the sponge between my legs gently, which is bloody hilarious given the battering I’ve just received. I can’t believe he’s doing this.
“A grump? Did you really just call me a grump?” he says, his lips curving upwards wickedly.
“Yes, I did.” I raise my eyebrows in an act of complete triumph, challenging him, possibly stupidly if I’m honest.
“You will get your beautiful arse out of this shower and into the kitchen to cook me some food, before I really show you grumpy, Miss Scott.” He swats my backside and continues. “Go on then, that’s a good girl.” I stare at him with an award-winning smile.
“Feeling weak from your exertion, Mr. White? In need of sustenance? I hope you’re not getting too old for me?”
He instantly makes a lunge for me and I dash from the bathroom toward the back of the sofa, laughing like a schoolgirl as he chases me. Grasping at me with ridiculously swift hands, he throws me to the bed with ease and pins me underneath him. My wrists are clasped into one of his hands before I know what’s happened, body rolled into whatever position he chooses. His hold is vice like. I couldn’t move even if I tried, not that I want to. The vision of him on top of me again is disturbingly good, and as his muscles wrap around me like a constricting python, I sigh in pleasure at his weight. He moves his other hand to my chin and directs my face to look at him. He’s so heavy on me that I wriggle and squirm a little beneath him, trying to get comfortable, but he tightens his grip and moves his knee to my crotch, causing me to flinch a bit.
“Sore?” He smiles a slightly evil grin. I’m not sure I like it at all.
“Yes, a little,” I reply, trying to move away from the pressure. He increases the friction and moves his knee further into me, purposely causing more pain.
“Good. Are you certain that you are satisfied with our session? It really would be my pleasure to find something else to add to our entertainment for a few more hours. I have plenty of other things that will help enhance your pain.” His stare is ruthless and slightly cold. “When I have you entirely, Elizabeth, when you have told me you will be mine with no reservation, you will be extremely sorry you thought of me as old. I can be relentless with my... affection for you.” His face softens and warms again, almost as if he’s surprised himself by his statement.
“Affection?” I squeak.
“Yes, I think that’s a good word for it, don’t you? I’m not sure I’ve ever used it before. I rather like it. Now, get to the kitchen before you distract me again.” He dazzles me with his smile and jumps up, throwing his shirt at me and pulling on some jeans. “Oh, and by the way, I spoke to your sister and told her you were here.”
“Shit, I forgot. How did you know?” I can’t believe I didn’t call her. She’s so going to kill me.
“Your phone had missed calls on it,” he says with a small shrug as he walks back towards me.
“You looked at my phone?” I ask with a frown. It pisses me off. I’m really not sure why.
“Yes, it was flashing. I wondered if it was urgent. I would have woken you but I thought you’d like the peace. Are you bothered that I looked at your phone?”
Am I? I don’t know.
“No, it’s just a bit soon to be so familiar. Would you be bothered if I looked at yours?” I ask with my hands on my hips, standing in his open shirt. Am I really about to start an argument about my phone with him? Especially when we’ve just discussed pain? And with no clothes on?
“Probably, yes,” he replies calmly, smirking.
“Then why did you feel you could look at mine? It could have been something private?” Smirking? Really? Arsehole.
“I did it because I could, Elizabeth.” He looks pleased with himself for some reason. “Actually, I was trying to be helpful and I assumed you’d have nothing to hide from me.” His face wavers a little. “You don’t, do you? Please don’t make me suspicious. You wouldn’t like me when I’m suspicious.” His eyes narrow and anger flashes across his gorgeous face. A sigh escapes me as I realise this is neither the time nor the place for a row, and quite oddly, he looks too damn inviting in his near angry state with all his gorgeousness on show for me to be able to be truly irritated.
“No, Alex, I have nothing to hide from you. Just don’t feel that you can make decisions for me please.” I close the remainder of the buttons on his shirt as dramatically as I can manage, staring directly at him, and move toward the door, leaving him looking slightly agitated and watching me like a hawk with prey in mind. “And where’s the sodding paperwork?” I call as I make my way down the stairs, wondering if it really bothered me that much or if I simply needed to make a point early on. I will not be manipulated or completely controlled by Mr. White, regardless of his magnificence or incredible abilities in the sex department.
My bare feet hit the cold tiled floor and I feel him behind me. Soft, warm arms clasp my waist and spin me round toward him.
“Was that our first row?” His eyes smile at me. This is clearly his way of rectifying the situation.
“I think so,” I reply quietly, still not entirely enamoured for some reason. Unfortunately, the man is still as stunning as ever. Nothing has changed in the minute it took for me to descend the stairs.
“I’m... I shouldn’t have... I’m an arse. It was rude of me and I won’t do it again. I’m just not used to this and I’ve never had to ask before,” he says with some contrition. My eyes narrow at his acknowledgement of wrongdoing as his smile comes back in place.
“Right,” I say haughtily.
“Are you still angry with me?” He starts kissing my neck. Bastard.
“Yes,” I say as he runs his hand up the inside of my thigh. I can’t think straight again. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Manipulating sod. My core traitorously clenches inside as the irritating tremble begins in earnest.
“Don’t be angry with me.” I roll my eyes at him and laugh a little.
“How can I stay angry while you’re doing that? You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not playing fair.”
“Why would I do that? Fair is completely overrated.” He grabs hold of my hand, twirls me into a dance hold and proceeds to dance us along the hall to the kitchen, softly whistling a tune. Good god, he can dance, too? I laugh and throw my head back as we spin into the kitchen.
“Is there anything that you can’t do? And what on earth made you think of that song?” I ask, recognizing the tune as ‘The Recipe For Making Love’ and smiling at the thought.
He stops and kisses me. “Yes, a few things. You don’t need to know about any of them, and I am a great fan of Harry Connick Junior.”
Really? Probably one of the world’s best crooners of love songs and Alex lik
es his music. That does not sit at all well with the ‘Frankly I have no idea what a relationship involves,’ statement.
“Well, it seems you’re the romantic type without you even wanting to be, Mr. White.”
“I never said I wasn’t a romantic, Miss Scott,” he states, gazing at me as he continues our twirling. “I just haven’t ever had a reason to act on romance before.” Oh, right.
His phone is ringing by the time we reach the table and he lets go of me, kissing my hand goodbye as he grabs it and heads off back down the hall.
I head to the wonderful, obviously white countertop and start to look for the fridge. He must have some decent food stashed in here somewhere. Finding the door, I open it to find everything a good cook could want. Bacon and eggs for a Sunday morning, very appetising. My mouth starts to salivate as Alex wanders back into the room and drops a large red folder onto the table, still talking away on the phone to someone. I hold up the bacon to him and he smiles and nods at me. As I start opening and closing cupboards, he moves in behind me and pulls out a frying pan and switches on the high-tech cooker expertly.
“Hold on. I’ll ask,” he says, looking at me.
“Would you like to go to INK tonight?”
“Umm, I don’t know. I said I’d spend the evening with Belle,” I reply, putting the bacon under the grill. He puts the phone to his ear again.
“Yes, you heard. Christ, okay, I’ll ask her again,” Alex responds.
“It’s a good friend. He’s asking if you’d like to bring her along as well.” His eyebrows rise in question and he pinches my nipple for full effect.
“Okay, I’ll phone and ask her in a while,” I say, rubbing at my nipple and scowling, which is sore enough, thank you very much.
“Okay, did you hear that? Either way I’ll see you there at eight thirty. Yep, you too.” He puts the phone down and leans over my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“He thinks you’re nice,” he says as he kisses my shoulder.
“He hasn’t seen me. How would he know what I am?” I say, turning the bacon and enjoying his attention.
“You must sound fantastic then. Besides, his instincts are good most of the time.”
“I doubt someone can make an informed decision on someone based on their voice alone. Do you do business that way, Mr. White? A quick phone call to someone you’ve never met and the deal’s done.”
“Actually, I never do business with someone unless I can look them in the eye. It’s the only way you can tell if someone’s lying to you.”
“Really? Always?” That’s just stupid.
“Yes, unless I know them well.”
He smiles and pushes himself into me as I crack the eggs into the pan.
“Well that’s very distrustful of you. You should try a little bit of faith. Sometimes people might surprise you.”
“Mmm, so naïve, Miss Scott. We will have to get rid of that. Mind you, I do quite like your innocence. It’s quite refreshing. Stimulating,” he says, pushing his hand between my legs again. I swat his hands away with the bacon grabbers and click them together a few times, narrowing my eyes.
“Down, boy. It’s time for food. Go lay the table and show me where the plates are.”
“Down, boy?” he repeats as if no one’s ever said no to him. I roll my eyes at myself. Of course, no one probably ever has, and certainly not a woman.
“Yes, down boy. Food, plates,” I reply, pointing my grabbers at the table.
“Yes, ma’am.” He mock salutes with a smirk as he pulls some tableware out of the drawers and moves to the table, pointing at the bottom cupboard. I load up our plates and cross to the table, placing our food down. Looking out at the garden, I sigh and stare out to the huge manicured garden through the large French doors.
“It’s very beautiful out there.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. I don’t go out there all that much. Only when I host the summer parties and what not. This is good. Where did you learn to cook?” he replies, digging into his food.
“That’s awful. How can you not enjoy such a wonderful garden? I thought you enjoyed the outdoors? I miss an outside space. My mother and father love gardening. We used to spend so much time outside just pottering around.”
“You miss them?” he questions, gazing at me, his eyes suddenly searching.
“Yes, I do. They’re fantastic people and they’ve always helped us achieve our goals. I try to see them as much as I can but we’re normally so busy. What about yours? Are they very proud of you? They must be,” I ask, shaking my head at the stupidity of my own question. Who wouldn’t be proud of him?
“My mother is dead and my father is... a waste of my time.” He looks instantly annoyed and his face hardens.
“Oh, Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked.” I drop my gaze.
“Head up and look at me. You’ve done nothing wrong and you weren’t to know. My mother died when I was about two. I don’t remember her and I haven’t seen my father in years. We don’t communicate and I have no wish to. He’s an exceptionally difficult man. I’ve got no other family or anyone to care about.” He reaches out and strokes my face, his turning soft again. “You’re only the second person to know that information and I am trusting you with it so please don’t tell anyone else.” He smiles warmly and returns to his food again.
Okay, that was intense. He’s all on his own. No wonder he’s completely in control of his life.
His phone starts ringing again. “Tell me about your life and family?” he says as he stabs his phone and frowns.
“I don’t think that’s very fair in the circumstances.” His eyes harden instantly. Obviously that wasn’t the right thing to say.
“Don’t pity me, Elizabeth. Ever. Yes, my life has been hard at times, but I don’t dwell on it. I move on and get something I do want. If I hadn’t had the childhood that I did then maybe I wouldn’t have the present that I currently do. I focus on the future and try to forget the past. I don’t need anyone’s fucking sympathy or compassion so do not insult me with your kindness,” he spits at me, irritation and anger lacing his voice as he shoves his plate away.
I immediately reel back from him and stare in shock at his scowl of annoyance. His fury is being thrown directly at me with a force that leaves me feeling slightly humiliated and a lot lost. What on earth did I say that was so wrong? I was simply trying to stay away from a delicate subject to make him feel at ease. I doubt I’ll bother with that technique again. If there is an again, which I’m highly doubting at the moment.
“I think that’s probably my cue to leave. I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward.” I stand and make a move toward the door.
“Sit down,” he says quietly.
“Excuse me?” I turn to him. Those eyes hold my gaze fiercely as he reiterates.
“I said sit down. Now.” Sodding ordering? I think not, arsehole. My hands shoot to my hips.
“Alex, I don’t know why you feel the need to vent your frustration on me but I did nothing to deserve it and I don’t appreciate it.” His eyes still pierce mine venomously. It’s enough to make me look down again as a frustrated sigh leaves his mouth, which doesn’t help stabilise my nerves at all.
“If I have to tell you one more time, I am going to get fucking annoyed. If you’re going to have the balls to stand there and defy me by not sitting your pretty little arse down when you’re told then at least have the backbone to look me in the eyes when you do it. I have told you never to drop your eyes from mine unless I tell you to and I mean it.” He smirks - yes smirks - back at me as I draw my eyes up to meet his. “Good girl. Now come here and kiss me.” I feel the small smile and frown hit my face at the same time and try to process how to react to it. He’s an arse. That’s clear, but a bloody beautiful one regardless, and how I’m ever going to keep up with these mood swings is a complete mystery.
Moving slowly to sit on his knee, he wraps his arms around me and breathes me into him.
�
��Please, don’t do that again,” I say quietly. He grips tighter and nuzzles his head into my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he says eventually. “My past tends to bring out the worst in me. That’s the very reason few people know about it, so don’t take it personally.”
“But I do, Alex, and I will continue to, so if it’s some sort of relationship you want then you’re going to have to try and be less, well... reactive about stuff.” I look into his eyes, searching for contrition. “Or explosive or whatever that was, because it’s not fair, you know. That was ..” I don’t know what that was. I’m rambling. Standard response.
“Okay,” he says, still smirking.
“It’s important, Alex. Don’t dismiss it as a joke. It really isn’t,” I say, slapping at his shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” he replies with his hands in the air. Something makes me think this isn’t the last I’ve seen of his temper, but we’ll move on for now.
“What’s the folder for?” I say, trying to take the conversation to somewhere different.
“Paperwork,” he says as he pulls it back towards us and opens it.
“I don’t need your whole medical history, Alex,” I say, refusing to look at it.
“Obviously not, but the piece of paper you do want is in here,” he says as he thumbs to a section and opens it. “There you go. Thoroughly inspected, inside and out.” I glance down at the medical report that was dated two weeks ago. Apparently everything was very healthy indeed.
“You haven’t been with anyone in two weeks?” I ask, surprising myself at my own nosiness. His face falls a little. Obviously he has.
“I always use protection,” he replies quietly.
“You didn’t with me,” I return, staring straight at him, looking for some sort of explanation and hoping he will calm my fears a little about our stupidity.
Seeing White Page 18