Chapter 47
852words
Alex's eyes followed me as I dashed into the bathroom.
I didn't come with anything since I hadn't planned on spending the night so I pumped his body wash onto my palm and lathered my body.
Less than seven minutes later, I was hurrying out of the shower. As I dried off, I thought about how much time I was going to burn in going to my place, changing, then finally going to work.
If only I could go directly from here. It would save time, yes, but then I didn't have appropriate work attire.
Again, because I hadn't known I would be spending the night.
I wrapped a second towel over my hair and walked out of the bathroom. When I got back into the room, Alex was lying back on the bed like a king, arms under his head with his legs slightly spread. Get this, he was totally naked and wasn't making any efforts to cover himself.
And. He. Was. Sporting. Wood.
Did this man not care for my sanity at all?
"Cover yourself up," I told him, making deliberate efforts to keep my eyes averted as I dried my hair. "You're distracting me."
He grinned. "I like you distracted."
"No, you don't. Because then, I'm going to be late and you're going to be on the recieving end of my wrath and, spoiler alert,"—I pointed a finger at him and narrowed my eyes—"You're not going to like it."
"Well, now I want to be on the recieving end of your wrath. You're sexy as hell when you're angry. I can only imagine what your fire would do to me."
Throwing my head back, I groaned up at the ceiling. "You're absolutely enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"Immensely," he said readily and without hesitation. "I don't think I've ever been as happy as I am now."
Balling up the towel I'd dried my hair with, I chucked it at his head. He laughed as it smacked him on the face, then he tossed it to the side.
Alex simply lifted a brow and crossed his legs, drawing my disobedient eyes down his tattooed chest, his sexy-as-hell pecs, to his mouth-watering dick, standing tall and proud from the small patch of dark hair.
Now, I really really wish I didn't have to work this morning. If only to take him into my mouth, torture him and have him begging for mercy. I ached so badly to do it that I actually stood, unmoving and stared, my breaths quickening.
My core tightened around nothing, begging to be filled, and an ache that would no doubt be a problem for me today at work, settled there, begging to be eased. To be attended to.
When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse, the amusement dulled by his more intense need. "If you keep looking at me like that, then I’m not going to be responsible for whatever happens next."
I blinked.
Giving him a stink eye, I stopped by the bed, bent over it and dragged the sheets over him up to his waist. It didn't do anything to reduce his hotness because his tattoos were still bared to me, but at least I wouldn't have to ogle his dick and wish that I didn't have to work today.
"Now, why did you do that?" Alex asked in a voice filled with amusement.
I walked into his closet, answering him over my shoulder. "You were distracting me."
My eyes roved over the great number of shirts sitting in hangers. I fished out a black button-down t-shirt that I could easily knot at my waist and sweatpants a few shades lighter than the shirt.
Alex had very good taste when it came to clothes—everything else, really—and if there was something I discovered from entering his closet, it was that he loved fashion.
He loved his clothes.
It was obvious in the way his clothes were arranged, the lights, the mirrors, the space. His closet was bigger than his room and bathroom put together. It was an interesting thing to discover and I really wish I could have stayed longer to feed my eyes but I had somewhere to be.
Depositing the clothes on the couch in the room, I let my towel fall to the ground and heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a muttered, "Fuck."
Ah.
It's payback time.
I took my sweet time unbuttoning his shirt and putting my hands through the sleeves, then buttoned it slowly. I didn't look at him once as I did it, but I heard his heavy breathing that told me he was watching me, alright, and turned on.
Because I was every bit the seductress, I spun around and bent in half as I dragged the sweatpants up my legs.
I was surprised—and excited—when a finger trailed up my backside, causing the flesh there to singe as though I'd been burned with a hot iron rod.
Shooting up to my full height, I made to step away when he stopped me by slipping his hands around my waist and pulling me into him.
