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This Alexis girl is driving me fucking insane. I can’t figure her out.
One moment, she’s trembling and meek as a lamb. The next, she’s slapping me across the face for calling her a hooker.
She is frightened of me—that much I can tell from her dilated pupils and her elevated heart rate, but she also stubbornly refuses to tell me anything important.
She only responds through threats of violence. She claims to not know anything, especially about Invicta.
And more maddeningly, she won’t fucking tell me who gave her these bruises and injuries.
Alexis shivers as she wraps her arms around herself, her already short dress riding up higher so I can nearly see her ass. Her curly hair sways, and it takes everything in me to not wrap a ringlet around my finger.
Can she blame me for thinking she was a hooker? Who the fuck wears dresses like that if they aren’t looking for a John?
But why the fuck was she being held at gunpoint by Invicta? It doesn’t make any sense. Invicta deals in weapons trading. They aren’t about human trafficking like The Brotherhood is. No, there’s something else that Alexis isn’t telling me, and it’s pissing me off.
“So you’re not going to tell me who hurt you?” I ask, taking a step toward her.
She shakes her head. “You’ll want to hurt them.”
Probably, but she doesn’t need to know that. I may be a lot of things—Don of the Iacopelli Crime Family, murderer, drug dealer, and a general asshole—but I don’t hit women. My mother raised me better than that, and Nat would actually kill me.
“Why are you protecting them?” Another step forward. Her eyes widen at my close proximity, and I can see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes and her long, black eyelashes. A light dusting of freckles covers the bridge of her nose and she bites her plump, pink lip.
Alexis turns her head away from me, and I scowl, irritation coursing through me.
Who the fuck does she think she is by refusing to answer any of my questions?
Placing one finger under her chin, I turn her head back toward me, forcing her to look me in the eyes.
“Answer my question,” I growl. Satisfaction rises in me as Alexis’s breathing hikes and she worries her fingers. Good. She should be nervous.
“Please,” she whispers, and I nearly snort. Does she really think that’s going to work on me?
Her tongue darts out of her mouth to wet her lips, and I can’t help but follow that movement, watching as her tongue slides across the seam of her mouth.
I can feel my cock hardening, but I refuse to listen to it. This girl is an enigma, and I’m determined to find out more about her.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” I murmur, my eyes locked on hers. “Tell me who hurt you.”
My hands slip down to her waist and rest at her hips. She gasps and tears her gaze away from me to look down.
Well, that’s interesting.
I lean my face closer to hers, my nose skimming her neck. God, her skin is so soft. Her body trembles, and she gulps at my close proximity.
Well, if I wasn’t convinced she wasn’t a hooker, her reactions would have changed my mind. She is too skittish, acting like an animal ready to book at a moment's notice.
Is she a virgin?
The thought shocks me and thrills me at the same time. Even though I have no plans to do anything to this Alexis girl, I do imagine dumping her back where she came from and letting her significant other know I took her virginity.
But the bruises tear me away from my reverie, and it’s like a bucket of cold water has been poured over my head.
Before I can even allow myself to fantasize further, I need to figure out a few things. One: who gave her these bruises and why. Two: why was Invicta holding her at gunpoint? Three: Do I really want to put myself in the middle of this?
Reluctantly, I pull myself away, resisting Alexis’s siren call. I make a show of pulling out my phone and texting Nat.
Damian: Come back. I need you.
