Chapter 114
[MIA]
Alex always keeps his promises. He bent me over the table—ignoring the napkins I’d painstakingly folded into swans—and made love to me passionately. I should have been concerned about Lana or someone else, but I wasn't. He made love to me, whispering between each thrust that I was his, that I wasn't to think of another man, not in my dreams, nightmares, or lies. Then, he finished inside me, just as he'd wanted.
"You need to get me some lace panties," I said breathlessly afterward, adjusting my clothes. My appetite had suddenly increased tenfold.
"You could wear a potato sack, and I'd still make passionate love to you," he promised, his voice deepening.
"They'd make me feel sexy."
"You are sexy. The sexiest woman I know."
"In these grandma panties?" I kicked the torn fabric.
"In whatever the hell you choose to wear."
My cheeks flushed.
"But… I want them," I admitted sheepishly. "Could you send someone to my apartment to get mine?"
He raised an eyebrow, his jaw clenching. "You have sexy lingerie at your apartment? For what? I thought we established you don't have a boyfriend."
"I'm sort of a lingerie addict," I confessed, embarrassed. "I used to buy lace lingerie whenever it was on sale. Just because."
He pursed his lips. "I'll send someone over. Anything else you want from there?"
"No," I shook my head. "I don't have anything personal. Clothes, maybe. Is it out of the question for me to go there myself, with someone?"
He seemed to consider it before biting his lip. "That's off the table. But…"
"But?"
"I can take you out."
My eyebrows furrowed. "We just went out and visited your parents' house. Do you have to go somewhere else for a few days?"
"No," he shook his head. "I meant, we can go out."
"For work?"
He let out an exasperated breath. "No, for dinner or something."
"But dinner's ready at home."
"Then we can go out tomorrow."
Chapter 114
I frowned. "Are we meeting someone?"
"Jesus," he hissed. "I'm taking you out on a date. Can you just say thank you?"
"Oh," realization dawned. "You're ordering me to go on a date with you."
"I asked," he glared.
"There's not really a question in 'I can take you out'; it's a suggestion at most."
He gritted his teeth.
"Mia, do you want to go out on a date with me?"
"Yes, Alex, I would love to," I grinned.
The next evening, I wore a black dress—fitted to the chest then flowing freely to mid-thigh. It had a bow at the back to cinch the waist. It was pretty, and designer—I'd just cut off the nearly eight-hundred-dollar price tag.
I also wore the stilettos and matching Jimmy Choo purse provided.
Alex was in his usual white shirt and dark blue trousers, looking dapper as ever.
He was busy on his iPad—my biggest competitor for his attention, it seemed—his eyes casually drifted upward, then froze when they landed on me.
His mouth opened and closed.
I smiled coyly.
He didn't take his eyes off me.
"So?" I bit my lip. "Do I clean up nicely?"
"Let's call for takeout," he announced, gripping my wrist. "You. Me. Your room. Now."
I chuckled. When he didn't release my wrist, my eyes widened. "You're not serious, are you? I'm very excited for this date."
"You look… ravishing."
"I might just let you ravish me if I enjoy the date."
"Is that a promise, Ms. Carson?" I was surprised he remembered my last name; I'd only mentioned it once. "It's a promise, Mr. Whitlock," I smiled, refusing to call him by his first name.
"It's King," he reminded me as we walked out.
15:15 Mon, Chapter 114
"That's fake," I pouted. "I want to call you by your real name."
"The real one is just for you and me. Use 'King' at all times," he said in a low voice. "Even the walls have ears here."
"That sounds like an exhausting way to live," I cringed dramatically, and he looked like he wanted to roll his eyes.
He didn't. Instead, his eyes flicked to the black Mercedes waiting for us.
"You're driving?" I asked, my eyes widening slightly.
"Mm," he nodded. "Dominic and the guards will follow closely. Can't be too safe."
"Like I said, an exhausting way to live," I teased, thrilled to be going out.
Alex drove. It seemed unreal; as if he couldn't perform such mundane tasks.
"Have you dated anyone before?" I asked after a few minutes on the road.
His eyes remained on the road. "What for?"
I shrugged. "I just asked. You don't have to share if it's personal."
"No, I meant, why would I date before?"
My jaw dropped, my head snapping to him so fast I almost got whiplash. "You've never dated before?!"
"Ever," he shook his head.
"I'm your first date?" I grinned.
"Why does that make you so happy, cupcake?"
"I get to be your first. It's something to celebrate. He was my first time. I lost my virginity to him. He also hadn't had a first kiss…"
"Have you ever been on a date?"
"Not really," I mumbled. "Not a lot of time to date when…" My voice trailed off. When you're trying to find your footing, and when you finally think you can keep yourself afloat, your best friend and her parents die, wrecking your life again and leaving behind a sister. And the man you suspect could be behind it is the one you were falling in love with.
"When?" He snapped me out of my thoughts.
"When you're trying to work hard, earn, survive, and move from foster home to foster home," I chuckled, as if it were no big deal.
"So I'm your first date too?" He finally looked at me.
"You are," I whispered.
"I'm glad."