My eyes are probably as wide as saucers as that inner rage sparks back up. ‘‘I told you to stop doing that. One, I can dress myself—I manage daily with quite a level of success and as you check me out when you think I am not looking, it’s obviously a skill. Secondly, I assume the underwear is for your benefit and I wasn’t aware I was now one of your fuck buddies whenever you feel like it. Possessions, I assumed, had some say over when, where and how, if I ever let you touch me again. And thirdly, oh yes I have a third … Stop telling me how to wear my hair it grows from my fucking head, therefore it’s mine and I know how best to wear it.’’ That would be hormonal rage button pressed and put into play. And his response is to look completely amused as though I am having a mere tantrum over something mundane and not his overbearing ever-present control issues.
Arghhhhhh!
‘‘Do I have to remind you of what happens anytime you defy me?’’
I actually hate him. He just switches on intimidation at every turn and makes me melt into my own shoes and back down with one icy tone. I am so sick of it, but he knows it works and therefore he uses it. Like a dog whistle to a misbehaving hound and I realise maybe Gino is right, I do need to stand up to the tosser when he plays this card.
‘’I’ll pick my clothes!’’ I stamp my foot childishly, straightening my bloody metaphoric crown. Pushing that tingling of apprehension away, and staking a claim in my own goddamn life!
‘‘Underwear? My choice because you won’t be seeing them, so it doesn’t affect you if I go in my full birthday suit or my granny backup knickers.’’ I lift one finger and stroke it off dramatically, staring him straight in the eye as he towers over me effortlessly.
‘’Hair, shoes and makeup … however I feel, and whatever mood strikes me.’’ I strike off three more fingers, glaring at him with furrowed brows and oozing attitude, waving my hands around like a crazed weirdo.
‘’You? … I don’t care. I can take you or leave you any day of the week and makes no difference to me at all.’’ Fifth finger that I prod mid-air before lifting my other hand to carry on the list of things he will not dictate to me. ‘’Dinner? Well if you asked me nicely then I would probably agree as I have a long tedious stretch in the Boredoms to get through, and it might be nice to have a little fun, plus I’m hungry and do not see a cook lingering in the shadows to rummage me up anything five star and have no desire to sweat in your kitchen either.’’ Alexi looks mildly unamused but I carry right on.
‘’And finally, Escort services? Unlikely, so don’t hold your breath! This lady of the night hung up her crotch-less knickers a long time ago and you could never afford my current fee to get me out of retirement. Face it Carrero … I am above your pay grade.’’ I am standing my ground, even if I am shaking on it. Alexi locks eyes on me in a silent battle and I catch the slight shift of suits in the room, making a swift exit, which makes my heart sink. Bravado waning because I have no idea why his own men would walk out when one of his playthings dares to stand up to him.
I know he won’t hit me; that much I am confident in nowadays. I just have no idea what he is going to do. Sometimes he just ignores my show of fierce; other times he ties me to torture devices in dark rooms and destroys me with so very little effort.
His own blood and shadows making a swift depart just tells me that his soulless demon side is about to make a grand entrance. He leans in close, terrifyingly so, and almost touches his nose to mine in a wholly intimidating way. A hand trailing my face almost delicately, sending shivers and ripples of something through my core as he puts the fear of God in me in the worst kind of way.
‘‘Disobedience never bodes well for you, London. As for me and sex … you can bet on it. Making stands, acting like you don’t want it, but I can read you better than you think and every single pore on your body is screaming for me to touch you.’’ He leans closer and I swear I hold my breath in anticipation, despite every single part of me wanting so badly to tell him to go jump off a bridge; my traitorous pelvis quivering with proximity to his, and I can’t keep my eyes from straying to his mouth while my body vibrates with the intimacy of how close he’s gotten.
I jump when he runs his thumb over my lips and tilts my head up to him with a finger under my chin, so I almost graze his mouth. I want him to kiss me, even while being terrified of his every move.
Jesus, I am pathetic as shit and so fucked up.
‘‘I can smell the desperation.’’ Alexi drops my face and moves me back in one harsh fluid movement with one finger on my chest that feels like a stinging slap to my pride.
Letting him fuck me was the single dumbest thing I ever did, and we both know it. He has another edge, and true to personality, he intends to exploit its power over me. I can say no until the cows come home, but even I know the second he throws seduction my way I will fold and my fate will be inevitable. All he has to do is kiss me and I'll be putty in his hands.
Alexi is like a drug. You despise what it does to you, you hate yourself for needing it, and you know it will destroy your life and turn you into something you don’t recognise anymore. Yet when it’s within grasp you will give your soul to be possessed by it all over again.
I am completely screwed.