My face flames.
Oh shit. He’s getting busy.
Suddenly, my stomach drops. That hurts in such an irrational way that I’m questioning my sanity. What’s worse is that I’m sure he’s doing it with his all-too-perfect bitch of a girlfriend.
I know I should walk away, but I…I just can’t.
Placing my hand on the lever handle, I press down as slow as I can and open the door an inch. When I see him, my heart stutters. Watching him through the crack, I smile and chuckle silently.
Well, that could’ve been embarrassing.
His shirtless back to me, I take in the artwork tattooed on him. His back is one big picture. What looks to be an angel – more accurately, a fallen angel – covers the length of him in one of the most realistic tattoos I have ever seen. The angel stands tall and proud in a tattered cloak of black, the wind blowing to one side separating the cloak, revealing a long, slender leg and bare foot. Her long blonde hair flares out to the side, the wind lifting the hood slightly to reveal her face. One side, gorgeous. The other, melted and disfigured.
I don’t understand what it means, but her face is so unashamed and filled with pride that it’s beautiful in a twisted way.
Panting with his back to me, he asks loudly, “You gonna stand there all night, or you gonna come in?”
Busted.
My face flames. Opening the door, I watch as he punches the boxing bag in the middle of his office before answering “Wasn’t sure if I was welcome.”
“You’re not.”
Well…shit.
That’s when he turns and adds with a smirk, “But that doesn’t stop me either.”
Walking over to his desk, he picks up a towel and pats down his face, arms, and heaving chest.
I knew he worked out.
“Like what you see?” Arrogant ass.
My eyes never leaving his body, I swallow hard. “Yeah.” When I see him step towards me, I quickly hold up my hands and step back. “No!” I say this in a way that you would say no to your dog for trying to steal your food. And it shocks Twitch. I know this because his eyebrows rise in disbelief. I’m shocked too. “Don’t. Not tonight. I just came here to say thank you.”
His brow furrows. “For what?”
“For the donation. For the money. I realized I never even said thank you, which was totally rude. My mom would be pissed at me. You have no idea how much we can do with that money. It’s…” I stop a moment, trying desperately to get my emotions under control. I whisper thickly, “It’s a godsend.”
He stops mid-step to watch me closely. His forever-hooded eyes lazily scrutinize me. His eyes narrow dangerously, “Don’t mention it.” Standing by the office door, feeling awkward and vulnerable, I could kiss him when his eyes crinkle in the corners. “I can show you how you can thank me.”
Smiling, I dip my chin. “Not tonight. I’m here purely for professional reasons.”
His brows rise again. “Is that right, Ms. Ballentine?” I nod and take in his muscular body as he seats himself on the edge of his desk.
Good lord, this man is a treat! I don’t know if I like him better shirtless or in the damn suit. I can’t decide. He’s lickable both ways.
Crossing his long legs in front of him, he asks curiously, “And what is your purpose here tonight, Alexa?” The way he says my name like that, it’s not just a word or name, it’s a caress.
Leaning back into the wall, I state quietly, nervously, “I want to know how you work. How your company works. I want to know what you do here.”
His face turns hard. I have no idea what I’ve said for that to happen, but my palms begin to sweat. Running his tongue over his teeth, he sniffs, then nods to the guest chair beside him. “Sit.”
When I don’t make an effort to move, his eyes find mine and he says more firmly, “Sit, Lexi.”
Taking small steps on shaky legs, making sure I don’t fall, he pushes out the chair with his foot and I sit. Looking up into his soft brown eyes, he watches me, searching my face through narrowed eyes a long while before he states, “The company is a cover.”
My eyes widen as he continues, “Yes, we’re a plastics company. A successful one. Very successful. But there was only one reason a guy like me buys a place like this.” He states quietly, “And I think you know why that would be. You’re a smart girl, Lexi. What do you think we’re making and selling out of here?”
One thing pops into my head immediately, but I push it down trying to ignore the blood roaring in my ears. I think back to the other day when Happy helped me out of my car.
“You’ve been sitting in your car in an industrial area looking like an on-edge crack junkie wanting her next fix for about a half-hour. So either you’re here for drugs, or…”
Drugs. They’re making and selling drugs from the warehouse.
A twisted smile appears on his face. “She knows.”
My stomach drops. Disappointment and regret swirl through my rigid body.
I need to leave. As in, yesterday.
Standing and trying to avoid eye contact, I utter shakily, “It was stupid to come here. I’m sorry for intruding, Twitch. It won’t happen again.”
A hand on my arm halts my exit. “Stop.” And I do, but when he sees my obvious panic, he whispers, “Breathe.”
Sitting back down, I fight the shakes for a full minute before anger flows through my veins. I whisper, “Why would you tell me that? You barely know me.”
He doesn’t answer. When I look up at him, his face conveys his answer. That he knows me better than I think he does. I still can’t believe this. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His eyes narrow; he searches my face lazily and says bored-like, “I ask myself that question every day of my miserable life.”
I allow his comment to slide off me. Now is not the time for sympathy. Feeling defiant, I state, “I could tell the police.”
Reaching forward, he runs his fingertips down my cheek. Breathing deeply, he replies on an exhale, “You could. But you won’t.” Closing my eyes, I lean into his touch, now trailing my jaw. “You won’t because you know what would happen to you, what happens to a squealer, don’t you, Lexi?”
My body tenses. I pull away from his too-inviting touch. “Is that a threat?”
Shaking his head slowly, his eyes never leave mine when he points out, “No. Just the facts.”
Staring him down, I refrain from telling him I know all about drugs. And none of that information came from being a caseworker, but rather from having to remove needles from my brother’s arm when he was too high to notice he hadn’t done it himself.
But that’s what living in our house did to a person.
My parents were never the type to win the parents of the year award. More like the hooray, your children are still alive award. Dad was an alcoholic and just plain mean. Mom was good at pretending things were okay while she worked long hours. Overall, I had two parents who weren’t parents at all. My brother found his way to escape the fact that we were never getting out of the hellhole.
Thinking about my brother always makes me think of that line from the song Me, You and My Medication by Boys and Girls.
“We're all addicted to something that takes away the pain.”
There’s so much truth in that phrase.
My heart aches, suddenly taken back to a time long forgotten, bringing up memories long suppressed.
I’m brought back to reality when Twitch pulls me to stand in front of him. Spreading his legs, he holds my hand tight while I’m guided between them. Looking over me, confusion in his eyes, he states, “Think I’m ready for those lips now.”
His eyes drop down to my parted mouth and I shiver. His arm snakes around my waist, holding me firmly against him. My front pressed into his, my tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip. Wanting that kiss so badly, my voice sounds weak, even to me. “You’re manipulating me.”
Reaching up with his free arm, he fingers a strand of my hair and admits freely, “Yeah.?
?? Leaning forward, his lips brush against mine for the briefest moment before he whispers into my cheek, “You have no idea how big a gift my words are. But you will.”
I don’t know what that means. Before I have time to think on it, he orders, “Now, kiss me, Lexi. I won’t ask you again.”
Breathing heavily, I touch the bare skin of his chest. A gentle caress on firm heat. Closing the distance between us, our lips touch and my body jolts. I moan softly, pressing a little firmer until our open mouths brush against each other, breathing each other in. The arm around my waist tightens.
His taste. Chocolate and mint. Just…amazing.
This taste is now committed to my memory. And one taste is not enough.
My mouth closes over his, placing soft kisses onto his surprisingly passive mouth. His tongue darts out, and for a moment, I forget who I’m with. Playfully pulling away, I smile when he growls, pulling me back into his body.
Thwack!
My ass throbs, and his mouth swallows my cry of surprise. No longer passive, his mouth devours mine, hungrily tasting me, coaxing my tongue to play with his.
My already wet core floods.
Reaching up between our bodies to cup his cheeks, he allows this only a moment before he gently removes my hands from him, pushing me away.
The air thick in the office, the only sound is of heavy breathing, Twitch stands suddenly, walking away from me, “I’ll call.”
And just like that, I’m dismissed.
I walk out of Falcon Plastics a little more informed and whole lot more anxious, because truthfully, I have no idea who I’m dealing with.
It’s around seven AM when my phone pings. Barely awake and sipping my coffee, I open it and read:
Unknown number: Saturday. Dress nice.
I stare at the message for a whole minute before I reply, knowing full well who sent it.
Me: Who is this?
Not ten seconds pass when I receive a response.
Unknown number: Lexi...
And I can almost hear the warning in his voice through the text that I chuckle while typing out my reply.
Me: Yes, TWITCH. I got it. Dress nice. Anything else?
This message must have dumbfounded him, because I don’t hear my phone ping for a whole five minutes.
Unknown number: No.
Smiling to myself, I quickly save the number into my contacts, move to the bathroom, and turn on the shower, trying not to think about the fact that the guy I’m crushing on is, in fact, a drug dealer.
The second I feel his eyes on me, a stupid smile breaks out on my face.
Taking my sushi and bottle of water from the counter of the sushi place in the food-court by my workplace over to one of the benches in the park across the street, I sit down and discreetly watch for him. With my sunglasses on and my phone out, everyone would be none the wiser as to what I’m really doing. When suddenly, my stomach dips.
He’s still watching you. Have you forgotten he’s a drug dealer? And he clearly needs anger management. What makes you think any part of this guy is right for you? He goes against everything you work for. Do not fuck up your life over some guy. He’s just a guy. A dangerous one, at that. Wake up!
I ponder this. I’ve worked so hard to be where I am right now. I wouldn’t do anything to put myself in a position for me to lose my job.
And as I say that, I know it’s a lie. Because here I am, still wanting to cavort with my stalker, even though he’s told me things that would surely get me fired. He’s not worth it. I know this. So, why am I—
Ping
Almost throwing my phone out of my hands, I jump in surprise and put a hand to my now-heaving chest.
Twitch: What’s wrong?
Looking down at the message, I think ‘you’ before I write a simple reply.
Me: I didn’t know you were still watching. You surprised me.
Almost immediately, the message tone sounds.
Twitch: You never were before.
My brow furrows at that.
Me: Well, you weren’t doing a good job at hiding it.
I wait and wait and wait. A few minutes pass and nothing comes. Placing my phone down, I sip at my bottle of water when the message tone sounds, and what he writes next makes my head silently implode.
Twitch: Maybe I wasn’t hiding at all.
Lifting my head, no longer caring if he sees me watching for him, my eyes dart left-to-right, searching for the phantom of a man.
But as per usual, he’s gone.
Throwing my phone down into my lap, I sit back on the bench and puff out a long breath.
I don’t care if it’ll be the death of me, I’m going to find out more about this strange man.
And in this case, I know patience is definitely a virtue.
Saturday night approaches quickly enough, and I look at myself in the mirror.
“Why do you always have to be Cleopatra? I wanted to be Cleopatra,” I say sulkily, looking at Nikki’s reflection as she sits on my bed applying peach-colored lip gloss to her pouty lips.
Not even looking up at me, she continues to smear color on and says gently, “Because Cleopatra is more my speed. You can’t be Cleopatra. She was all death to this person and death to that person, and you’d be all like how can we help these people?” I quietly laugh. She is kinda right. “No, babe. You’re not Cleopatra. You’re an angel. And a beautiful one at that.”
A growl at the door snags my attention. Dave stands there pouting, holding out his belt-slash-sword combo. “I can’t get this on.”
He is not in a good mood like I’d hoped he would be. It turns out Phil is happy being single again, and Dave, obviously, isn’t taking the news well.
Walking over to him, I take the belt from him and place it around his waist. He’s a pirate tonight, wearing leather breeches, a puffy shirt, an eye patch, and a sword. The whole she-bang. It takes a few seconds, but I get the belt on, and he sighs, “Thanks, babe.”
Looking up into his vacant eyes, I reply softly, “We don’t have to go. We can rent some movies and hang out here eating junk food ‘til we pass out.”
And he smiles. The first real smile I’ve seen him wear in over a week. It’s then that he notices my costume. Stepping back to get a good look at me, his face softens. “You really are an angel. And you look gorgeous. It’s perfect for you.”
Reaching up to cup his cheek, he accepts the gesture for only a moment before he clears his throat and backs out of my room. “I’ll be in the living room.”
Waiting for Nikki to complete the makeup that goes with a costume such as hers, I turn to the mirror one last time and take a good look at myself.
The long white dress I’m wearing is sweet and simple, long-sleeved, and decorated with small pearls and crystals glittering all over. It’s stunning. The price tag on the costume read over a thousand dollars but it’s beautiful. Twitch can afford it. So worth it. My wings are deceptively light considering the tips of them come past my bottom. This costume has no halo, but in its place is a tiara, once again gleaming with crystals and pearl. My long dark hair has been left down in loose waves, and Nikki did wonders with my eye makeup, which is pearly white and shimmering. My lips lightly glossed, I’m ready to go.
Nikki calls out from behind me, “Ready?”
Nodding at my reflection, I answer weakly, “Yeah.”
As ready as I’ll ever be.
Arriving at the historic mansion in Darling Point, I wonder how much this place costs for the night.
I know Twitch is well off, but a place like this would have cost over twenty-million dollars to buy, so to rent it for the night would be in the hundreds of thousands, I’m sure.
The taxi comes to a stop and the three of us look at each other in disbelief.
Dave asks, “Are you sure this is the place?”
With the amount of cars being ushered around the place, I would say yes, but I double check the invite anyways. “Yeah. It’s the right place.”
Nikki says
in awe, “It’s amazing. So beautiful.”
I agree. It’s breathtaking.
Paying the cab driver, we all head out towards the gorgeous mansion. Security guards stand by the giant, cast iron double gates taking invites and checking IDs. My face pulls an I’m impressed look to my friends, which they mimic in unison. Approaching the behemoth of a security guard, he takes the invite and checks our ID cards. My gut flips around when the security guy looks me in the eye, takes out his walkie talkie, and announces, “She’s here.”
No smile. No anything. Security dude says, “Wait here,” as if I was going to waltz past him and make a fuss, cussing up a storm.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I open my mouth to speak when a deep and familiar voice utters, “Would you look at that? A real life angel.”
Happy comes forward and surprises the hell out of me when he kisses my cheek and hugs me briefly. Smiling up at him, I muse, “No costume?”
He smiles big. “Nope. I’m on security detail tonight. Or I might have offered because I fuckin’ hate dressing up.” He winks, letting us all know that’s exactly what happened.
Chuckling, I make introductions. “Nikki and Dave, this is Happy.” When I turn to see them both gaping and making lusty goo-goo eyes at the brawny, bald man, I mentally cringe.
Damn. This got awkward quick.
But I’m doubly surprised when Happy grins and checks them out. Both of them.
Holy…Wow! I did not see that coming.
Happy extends one elbow to me, and the other to Nikki; we take hold and he leads us to a golf cart parked just inside the gates. Happy explains, “Twitch wasn’t sure if you would wear heels tonight. He didn’t want you to walk all the way to the house.”
Nikki turns to me wearing puppy dog eyes and mouths, “So sweet!”
Oh dear God. Let’s see if she thinks that after she meets him.
The golf cart takes off, and it’s not a short drive up to the mansion. It takes about five minutes to get there while weaving in and out of people talking during their hike up the long gravel driveway. Once we reach the front of the house, Happy parks us off to the side and helps Nikki out, while Dave helps me out. Happy looks at us and promises, “I’ll see you around tonight. Save a dance for me, yeah?”