Chapter 147


    I throw my third sexy dress on the bed and slump down in a deted heap, annoyed with myself that


    I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. Prettying myself up for him and stressing over how to dress


    and what to wear like some sad little teenage idiot on a first date. I can’t believe myself sometimes.


    He texted me and told me to be ready for six and to dress casually. Whatever that means. Ironic really,


    as that was my original n; to show ack of effort and now, here I am with a bed full of dresses and


    he is the one telling me to dress down.


    I don’t know if he means casual pretty for somewhere like his Italian restaurant or if he means jeans


    and sweater casual. I’m not asking him because then he will think I’m keen for tonight and I’m definitely


    not. This is my first stage of observing and analysing him. Spend time, suss him out and look for all the


    little acts and niggles that cement whether this is genuine.


    I need to be sure I’m not being yed, once and for all. Tonight will tell me that, and then maybe if I can


    suss it out, it will make the decision a whole lot easier.


    That’s about as far as I have got with my ns, anyway. y along, be nice, rile him asionally, and


    try to figure him out. Shouldn’t be too hard to tell if it’s fake with some well-ced button pushes to see


    if his mean side is sleeping or just hiding from me. Alexi can act demure and charming all he wants, but


    the proof of the pudding and all that is when I make him lose his temper with me. It’s easy to poke that


    bear—disobedience or just flout the ownership buttons and boom. We have ourselves an Alexi


    meltdown and immediate sadistic appearance with that temper he struggles to control.


    A necessary evil to see how different he really can be. If I have to endure being punished to see him for


    what he really is then at least I’ll know what my future would be like. I can run and never look back, with


    no doubt that I was saving myself from a lot of heartache.


    I pull on another figure-hugging dress and nce at my clock, cursing myself that it’s almost six and he


    will show up at any minute. Picking a long jumper dress over skinny jeans, to look like I made zero


    effort, I re-brush my hair back into its sleek ponytail and turn it into a messy bun. I’m going for the ‘I just


    threw this on and forgot we had ns’ kind of look, finished with a scarf and ts.


    Not my normal ensemble on any given day, but this is not any normal day. And I won’t admit I have


    been fussing with my appearance for almost two hours, driving myself insane with nerves and


    indecision.


    I touch up my neutral makeup and apply a lip gloss rather than my trademark red lip and scrutinise


    myself a little too closely. Obsessing, and I know I’m doing it because my nerves are on high alert and I


    feel ridiculously uncertain.


    I look young, pretty girl, almost college student. Not sure I like the look but it’s definitely not screaming


    seduction of any sort, and I think at the back of my mind, that’s what I was aiming for in reality. I don’t


    look like I normally do and part of me wants to see if it makes a difference to him. Does a non-sexy and


    slutty Cami still make him want to nail me?


    Sex is a NO. It’s the one area where I’m not willing to leave myself vulnerable again. Yesterday was


    stupid and if he truly wants something between us, he will ept I’m taking it off the table, effective


    immediately. No end date in sight for the time being either. I can make do with BOB should I get horny,


    and well, I already know he hits the spot every time. You can’t beat a battery-operated boyfriend in


    times of need.


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    I walk out of my room, adjusting my jumper as hees strolling in, right on time, looking unusually


    happy and bright and smiling my way. Alexi has gone full-on casual and I’m bitterly disappointed that


    he won’t blink twice at my attire. He’s in grey washed jeans and a tight blue T-shirt under a ck


    leather jacket and a pair of leather boots. Completely casual and now I’m the one annoyed he didn’t


    make more effort. He doesn’t even look like he shaved and is sporting stubble on that normally clean-


    shaven face.


    I have hit an alternate dimension.


    It’s more Gino’s style than Alexi’s. If it wasn’t for that dragon tattoo peeking out at his cor and those


    grey husky eyes looking my way, I would swear the wrong twin was up here.


    “You look cute.” He smiles at me as he bypasses and goes straight into his room without any appraisal.


    I swear it’s three words no woman ever wants to hear from the mouth of the man she’s dating.


    What the fuck is cute when ites to men?


    Puppies are cute! Kid sisters are CUTE!


    Women you want to bang senseless are never CUTE!


    What the hell is with me? I seem to have more moods than a psycho with PMS and need to get a grip. I


    dressed down to annoy him, then get pissed because he did too, and now I’m getting hormonal and


    sulky because he called me cute. I swear I need a Xanax or something to level my emotions out.


    If this is what a love confession from Alexi does to you, then maybe I should feign a headache and go


    to bed. I can feel disaster brewing with how weird I’m being and should really admit defeat before


    tonight ends in tears.


    I thought him being ‘off’ would be my biggest hurdle, but it looks like this is all on me.


    He reappears carrying a set of keys in one hand and a messenger bag in the other and I look him up


    and down quizzically. Student chic seems to be catching and I’m not sure I like it on him.


    “You’ll need a warm jacket; we’re taking my bike.” He pulls his bag over his head, still not making any


    real attempt at checking me out and zips up his jacket while nodding towards my room, and I stare at


    him.


    “Your what?” My jaw drops open and my insides instantly flutter and die. Fear clearly evident on my


    face with widening eyes and a startled expression. I hope to God he doesn’t mean one we pedal, not


    that either option is better than the other. A petrol guzzling version has never been on my list of things


    to experience in my life. I have sanity.


    “My bike … motorbike. I have a very nice one and it’s handy for small streets and casual dates.” He


    grins and throws me that irritating wink before turning me and giving me a gentle shove to my room,


    dismissing the look of horror on my face and being a little pushy in the process.


    “Oh, and maybe take your hair down, the helmet will only fuck it up and make it ufortable to wear.”


    “Helmet?” I squeak and instantly feel faint. A cold wash of weakness oveing me.


    “Well, you could go without, but brain smear on the sidewalk isn’t a good look if we crash.” The tone of


    his voice is way too serious and I sh back an rmed gasp his way. Eyes wide with terror and my


    heart stops beating.


    “Oh, my God! CRASH?” I swear he is trying to terrify me, and I’m frozen to the spot, gawping like a


    fool, skin turning cold withck of blood that just pulls an evilugh out of him. Mr Sadistic is still in


    there.


    “Jesus Christ, do you seriously have zero faith in me? I wouldn’t take my bike if I thought I would end


    up killing you, Cam. Now move.” He shoves me again and this time I trip over my doorway and half jog


    inside to grab whatever coat seems to have the most padding. Clumsy but distracted and thinking only


    of skidding along the road to certain death and leaving the imprint of my face on the concrete. I try to


    shake that visual out of my head, but my hands are already mmy and my heart bursting out of my


    ribcage. I’m not sure I want to get on a motorcycle. I’ve never sat on one in my life and didn’t even


    know he owned one, let alone rode them.


    It just seems like a stupid thing to do on purpose, and I cannot understand what would possess anyone


    to want to do it.


    “You are like … an aplished biker, right?” I stammer as Ie back out, sounding like a total


    wimp, voice trembling lightly, pulling on my own leather jacket that’s a lot longer than his. Praying it


    covers all vital organs and saves me from certain death should I meet tarmac up close. I feel sick with


    churning nerves and already picking at my zipper nervously.


    “Very.” He ignores the obvious fear in my voice, catches me by the hand firmly and pulls me with him.


    Not waiting to check if hand holding is something we are doing and yanking me like a disobedient


    younger sibling who won’t do as they are told. Seems he thinks it is as heces his fingers through


    mine securely so I can’t escape him, and I’m pulled with him at a brisk pace that gets a re thrown at


    the back of his head.


    “Wait. I don’t have my bag or my phone. I don’t have keys or money or anything.” I stop, getting my arm


    tugged with my rapid pause and he yanks me a little more firmly with him, so I yelp and almost fall over.


    I frown at him angrily. Alexi doesn’t even seem to notice my hateful re, and he isn’t exactly being


    chivalrous in the first minutes of what is meant to be a romantic date.


    Arsehole.


    “You don’t need anything, just you.” I get a warm smile thrown back at me and I’m once again hauled


    behind him, rather aggressively for a guy attempting charm and adoration. I try to wriggle my hand free,


    but he holds on tighter and shes me that look of his that says, ‘keep trying, I’m not letting go’. Hints of


    that controlling prick lurking under the friendly persona, and I narrow my eyes and put one ck cross


    on my mental list for tonight. He earns a few of those on this ‘date’ and he will see thest of me.


    Wanker.


    I can strike ‘gentle’ off the list too then. Seems that part is not longsting. Being manhandled like a


    piece of meat is not my idea of romantic wooing. He has a lot to learn about schmoozing me into a


    better mood after this.


    I get pulled at a brisk pace to the lift, where I’m silenced with a chaste kiss thrown on my lips when he


    turns me beside him. Right before he punches in the ground floor button. It’s so rapid I cannot object


    nor take part; a grazing of lips much like the one in the kitchenst night, and he gets a pointed look so


    frosty I could freeze the air in here.


    “You know kissing me isn’t really the done thing when we aren’t actually a thing.” I point out ndly.


    Another ck cross on my mental list of first date misdemeanours.


    “Well, yesterday I had my dick inside you, so I’m guessing it’s not really a step too far to do it.” I get that


    cheeky arrogant smirk and I p him in the shoulder impulsively.


    “Alexi! That’s crude and not very gentlemanly. You’re a prick and not doing a great job of making me


    want to date you.” I huff and get even more annoyed when that smirk turns into a wider grin, amused at


    me. He rests his shoulder against the back wall casually and shrugs.


    “Look, I’m expecting sex to be a no-go, considering you were like a speed runner right after. At least


    give me kissing, within reason. As for wanting to date me … looks like you’re here anding with me,


    so I have no worries on that front.”


    Arghh, PRICK!


    “When did this be a negotiation? We had a no touching rule, remember? And it’s hard not to go


    out with you when you are dragging me along like a stroppy toddler.” I point out harshly.


    “Once again … my dick, inside you yesterday. I think that pretty much neutralises that arrangement.”


    He shrugs again, in a manly, smug manoeuvre, and I wonder why I tolerate this man; he truly is a shit.


    “Is this your idea of wooing me? Not very romantic are you!”


    “Are we having this same conversation again? I can do flowers and choctes and sickeningly sweet


    terms of endearment if you like, but then I won’t exactly be making myself transparent and as honest as


    I can for you. It would be fake, and I thought the idea was to gain your trust by letting you in. No more


    masks. No acts, no games. The real us.”


    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 ufortable 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 nce.


    “Fine. Flowers, choctes, calling you Hunny Bunny or some other vomit inducing term. Just don’t


    comin when I have to beat people to level myself out a little. I can’t do nice without bncing 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 wordsing 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 haspletely 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 apletely 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 nce 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 nts 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 andpletely 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 andpletely


    overpowered me voluntarily. Always the fucking maniptor 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


    ck, and a very amused looking Jackson who beams at me widely and suddenly seems ovee


    with merriment.


    “Have a nice evening you two. You look lovely, Miss Cami.” He calls as we pass and ps Alexi on


    the back in addish camaraderie way that just screams ‘good luck gettingid 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 bnce out the dickhead ones


    asionally. 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 ck beast of a motorcycle is perched on a kickstand and shining in the light


    of the car park’smps. It’s almost sparkling with how glossy all the ck 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 thest 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 p 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


    wordse 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 manipte 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 deted.


    “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


    rx 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 ess, 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 wless 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.” Hees 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’sing.” 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.


    “Exining 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 ns 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 re at


    him through my tinted ss 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. ustrophobia and fear, and now I’m locked in here I can feel the hysteria


    rising.