The only person I’ve ever allowed to get close and stay close is Ruby, because she’s been there with me through everything, my endless rebellions, my parents’ unstable, tumultuous relationship, moving to New York, my string of hot yet terrible boyfriends.
Armstrong seemed safe because he appeared to be the polar opposite of who I’d been attracted to. I fell in love with the idea of safety instead of an actual person. Spending the rest of my life in a loveless marriage would’ve been torture. And then Lex came and turned everything upside down. I tried to run, but I just ended up going in circles, because I finally had a taste of what real love, the kind that makes a person want to stay, could be like.
Through this entire thing Lex has been my constant. After Ruby’s engagement party he didn’t give me space like I expected. Instead he messaged daily, just to tell me he was thinking about me and that he was here if I needed him. It’s the way he’s been from the beginning—since he saved me in the airport from the security jerks rummaging through my sex toy tickle trunk. Or maybe even before that, from the moment he introduced himself and offered to get me a drink, he’s been there, sometimes in the background, just waiting—watching—but not in a creepy way.
Lex is a tender soul. The more I let my guard down and him in, the more of that tenderness I see. He’s still a flirt and incredibly filthy, but there’s another side to him, one I caught glimpses of in Bora Bora, and once we were back in New York.
Once Lex is in, he’s all in. That scares me a little, but it doesn’t change how I feel about him. I’m in love with this man. I’ve come to terms with that over the past few weeks.
I find him in his favorite place to work, sitting in the back of the restaurant with his laptop and several file folders laid out in front of him. I take a moment to truly see him. He’s wearing his glasses. Dear sweet Lord they do amazing things to my body. Although that might be due in part to the weeks of sex deprivation. Lex Sex Withdrawal.
His suit jacket is slung over the chair next to him, his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off the colorful artwork along his forearm. His hair is perfectly styled, the only part of him that really conforms. I exhale a shaky breath as I finally allow the feelings that have been confined and locked down to rise to the surface.
I want this man so badly. And not just in bed, which I definitely want, but in all facets of my life.
He’s immersed in his work so he doesn’t notice as I cross the restaurant. I bring a finger to my lips when the staff, who are already familiar with me, wave in greeting. As soon as I move into his peripheral vision his gaze lifts, surprise registers, then a smile lights up his gorgeous face. “Hi.”
I adjust my purse strap, all my nerves firing at once. “Hi.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later tonight.” He pushes his chair back and stands.
I take a cautious step forward as Lex’s gaze moves over me, taking in my attire. I’m wearing a dress. It’s black, short, and clingy. The perfect annulment dress. When his gaze finally returns to my face it’s full of familiar heat. The kind I haven’t been able to appreciate in weeks. And behind that are emotions I didn’t see before, maybe because I wasn’t ready for them.
My nervousness must be apparent in the way I’m twisting my hands, because the heat quickly simmers and fades, replaced by concern.
His fingertips skim the length of my bare arms. “Is everything okay, Amie?”
“I just met with Pierce.” Even my voice is trembling, along with every other part of me. I didn’t realize just how afraid I’ve been of this moment. Sometimes being unleashed is just as terrifying as being shackled. And now that I can have this man, I have the irrational fear that he won’t want me anymore.
His eyes flare and his fingers drop. “Oh?”
“Armstrong finally signed the papers.” I do partial jazz hands and bite my lip. Dammit. Why do I feel like I’m going to cry? I blink a few times, trying to clear the sudden blur.
Lex’s expression softens. “Are you okay?”
I nod and step into him. His arms come around me, warm, solid, grounding. “I don’t know why I’m so emotional about this,” I mumble into his chest.
I feel his lips at my temple. “You can be as emotional as you want, baby. He tethered you for no reason other than that he could, and now you’re free, that has to be a foreign feeling.”
I absorb his affection. This man, right here, is everything I want. Admitting it is the easy part. Eventually I pull back so I can see him. I trace the contour of his jaw. His patience has been astounding. This is what love really is. Giving someone time to find their way back to you, holding out a hand when they’re ready to take it.
“I’m as relieved as I am scared.”
He touches my knuckle to his lips. I feel it everywhere in my body. “What are you scared of?”
“I don’t know. Everything? I don’t want to be a mistake for you.”
“Tell me something.” He cups my face in his wide, warm palms and brushes his lips gently over mine. “Does this feel like a mistake to you?”
My lips move against his as I answer. “No.”
“Then what is there to be afraid of?”
“This,” I whisper.
“What part of this?”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“What if it does?”
“I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Amie, I want to love you.” He caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “Won’t you let me try?”
At my nod his lips find mine again, but it’s not gentle or chaste this time.
One heated kiss in the middle of the restaurant is all it takes for Lex to pack up his laptop and files. We can’t keep our hands or mouths to ourselves on the elevator ride to the penthouse floor. We barely make it through the door—to the same suite we got caught in last time—before Lex drops to his knees and shoves my dress up to my hips.
He exhales a long breath with a low whistle. “Ah, fuck.” And then he nuzzles the black lace and leather before he bites the inside of my thigh. He lifts his gaze, his smile wicked. “Up for a little anarchy, are we?”
“With you? Always.”
Epilogue: With Me
Lexington
This tux is hot. I’m sweating. It could be sympathy sweats. Bane is freaking the fuck out right now. He might look calm, but he’s adjusted his tie five times in the last thirty seconds, a sure sign he’s nervous. We Mills men are fidgety motherfuckers. None of us would ever excel as professional poker players. I elbow him in the shoulder and mutter, “Stop fidgeting.”
He drops his hands and clasps them in front of him. That lasts for all of three seconds before he starts tapping on his hip.
“Seriously, Bane. Chill out.”
“I’m fucking nervous,” he snaps. “Do you have the ring?”
“It’s still in my pocket, where it was when you asked me five minutes ago.”
The music cues and he wipes his palms on his thighs.
I grab his shoulders. “It’s do or die time.”
Bane’s expression is incredulous.
“Sorry.” I clap him on the back of the neck. “You got this. Go claim your woman for all eternity.”
“I think it’s safe to say you shouldn’t switch to a career in motivational speaking.”