The Carrero Contract - Amending Agreements (Book 2 of Contract Trilogy)

37

'I left my tux here to get cleaned ... easier to just come change here.' He wanders out wearing an open shirt over black trousers and is in the process of buttoning up as he wanders towards me confidently, not bothered at all about his state of undress around me.

I have already boiled the kettle and make him instant coffee rather than set up the coffee pot like he normally would. He seems like he's in a hurry and doesn't say anything when he sees the jar. I know he's usually a coffee bean snob.

I cannot tear my eyes off that expanse of sexy chest and physically have to rip myself away to turn around and look anywhere but at him. Body heating up with the sizzling effect of his proximity, and I almost forget how to breathe.

His hair is damp and messy from pulling off clothes over his head, ruffled gorgeously even though it's mostly short. That lip biting, yummy body on show, with little hints of black ink on a tight, toned surface, which does crazy things to my internals. Full-on electric horny vibrations pummelling me in the nether regions and I sigh in total frustration. BOB has been a pale comparison to that hunk of male flesh between my thighs. The cravings for sex have never been as much of a problem as they have been since the day I met this man.

Does he have any idea how much of an alluring sight he is when walking around like this?

'I am coming back here after dinner. I want an early start on stuff I need to do in the office, so makes more sense to sleep here.' He comes up beside me, sliding his arm around to pick up his coffee in front of me and throws me a charming smile, face so close he's almost in mine, and the air gets painfully thin between us.

I just smile awkwardly, aware that his sudden close assault has my skin prickling sensually, and I stiffen in discomfort.

'You smell nice,' he utters in a soft but heavy tone, those eyes locked on mine so my body tingles, then moves away and takes a drink of his coffee as he goes to the table and lays it down. He straightens to button up his shirt, disappointingly putting all those carved abs under wraps, and pulls a bow tie from his back pocket which had been dangling there.

I watch him expertly tuck himself in and wander to my mirror to put it on and tie it, mesmerised with the way a bow can neatly appear from such a strange shape and note that it's something I have never learned to do. I've never had a need to put one on a man and watch him a little too intensely—A practised skill.

He already has shoes on and when he walks back into his room to get his jacket I hear a blast of a drier as he quickly sorts his hair out. In the couple minutes of quiet, I can almost visualise him with his hair gel, taming hints of waves into scruffy neatness.

I love Alexi's most recent haircut. All short back and sides now and a little unruly on top, which leaves enough hair to run your fingernails through and grip onto in the throes of passion. Not that I will be, it's just a preferred thing.

He's back in minutes with a freshly styled do that adds to that groomed perfection of his as he pulls his jacket on one sleeve. Body emphasised by what he's wearing and I am instantly drawn like a magnet to look at him. My eyes scan impulsively, immediately to the one thing that stands severely out of place, and causes an instant nervousness deep down in my gut; A tight chokehold on my stomach.

'Why are you carrying tonight?' I nod towards the holster under his armpit, face dropping as seriousness hits me to dampen my libido. His gun on show and he just ignores me and continues putting on his jacket smoothly to cover it up. Something in my stomach swirls with unease, nerves rising as suspicion hits me and I move closer to him.

'Alexi? You never carry when you're going to dinner. Why are you taking a gun?' Sixth sense has all my alarms firing and my palms get instantly sweaty as nerves eat away at me. Something deep down alerting me to this one detail and I can't shake it away; A deep achy unease of something being wrong.