Why couldn't he just go away? She slid down further in the bath and let the water run over her ears.
"If you don't answer, now! I'm going to come in," he threatened. She heard a moment of silence, followed by another pound on the door. "Damn it, Laryssa. Answer me!"
Couldn't he take a hint that she didn't want to talk to him. She heard the door handle shake. He wouldn't dare. She shot up in the bath, reaching for a towel.
The door burst open. She watched in horror as the towel she was reaching for fell to the floor. "What do you think you're doing," she screeched, covering herself with her arms.
The gentlemanly thing to do would be to pick up the towel, hand it to her and leave the bathroom, but Alex couldn't make his feet move. Her hair, straightened by the weight of the water, rested like a curtain over her full breasts. His eyes drifted downward to where her hand covered the mound between her thighs. Matching curly hair peeked around her hand.
He swallowed hard when his insides heated and his friend, yet again, decided to perk up at the sight of her. He'd read about sirens, but never in all his life did he ever think he'd meet one. She stood there staring at him, not saying a word, but her song sang out to him. Alex tugged at the waist of his tightened jeans. He felt like a teenager again, and the last thing he wanted was to be interested in a woman.
"I...you..." He slammed his hand on the door handle in frustration when he heard the huskiness in his own voice. He let out a low growl as he grabbed her by the arm, hauling her out of the tub. She let out a gasp as her hand pulled away from her chest, revealing her ample breasts and darkened centers, nipples puckered. She crossed her legs and attempted to cover herself with her free hand, not very successfully mind you.
Were they aroused because of him, or because she was cold? He fought the urge to pull her close to find out. The smell of strawberries tickled his senses. His gaze traveled down her body and back up, making it harder for him to let go. Her cheeks were flushed by the time his gaze locked with hers. Involuntarily, his hand reached out and stroked her cheek. Her eyes widened and she jerked back.
Fear! He realized. She was afraid of him. The thought was like a mental cold shower. He dropped her arm and took a step back. What else would she be? For goodness sake, he just burst into her bathroom and stood there gawking at her like a school boy.
He shoved his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from reaching out to her again. "Why didn't you answer?" he snapped.
"I didn't feel I had to. It's my house." She turned away, reached for another towel and wrapped it around her body. From behind, she didn't look pregnant. His eyes lowered to her butt and he fought the urge to test and see how firm her behind was. He was still looking when she turned back around.
"Take a picture, Mr. Richards, it lasts longer." She held her head high and walked by him to her bedroom, without so much as a second glance back.
He followed behind her and leaned against the door frame. "I'm not a pervert, Ms. Mitchell," he said, crossing his arms.
"Could have fooled me." She walked to her closet and pulled out a short sleeve, blue maternity dress.
The fact she thought of him as a pervert irked him. Sure, he stood there staring at her in the bathroom, but what else was he to do. She shocked him. He only did what any red-blooded male would have done.
"If you would have answered me, I wouldn't have barged in. I was worried about you," he reasoned.
"And that is your reason for drooling over me? Look, I don't need anyone worrying about me." Laryssa placed her dress on the bed and turned back to him. "Can I have some privacy, please?" She gestured toward the dress.
The towel slid down slightly, showing her cleavage and his body quickened. Angered at his own response, he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. He raked his hand through his hair. From the very beginning, he knew she was going to be trouble. The sooner he got her to his house to be watched over by Joanne, instead of him, the better. There he'd be able to do some digging of his own, learn about his look-a-like, without running into her every minute.
As soon as the door closed, Laryssa rushed across the room and locked it. She let out a deep breath and leaned back against the door. She'd never had such an intense sexual moment before in her life. Her pulse still raced, beating against the skin on her neck. Her arm tingled where his hand had held it securely. The strength in his hand had excited her as it flexed gently on her arm; it also frightened her. She knew just how dangerous it could be.
"Relax, Laryssa. He's not Aidan," she murmured. "Aidan's dead. He can't hurt you anymore." She pushed herself away from the door and walked toward the floral pattern covered bed, letting the towel slip to the floor. How could this man make her feel so alive? He had barely touched her. Her libido hadn't dropped off the end of the earth like she thought.
When Aidan looked at her, she felt nothing in the end, except fear. When he touched her, she struggled not to tremble, knowing he would get angry if she did. Alex was identical to him, yet her body reacted in a way totally foreign to her. While her mind was registering Aidan, her body knew instinctively that it was another soul. The feeling left her perplexed.
When he reached out to touch her in the bathroom, she didn't jerk back in fear; but, at the intensity of the feelings that coursed through her body when his finger brushed her cheek, it rocked her all the way down to her toes. She'd never felt so sexually alive before.
***
Later, Laryssa finally gained the courage to go downstairs. Alex was sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep. The black leather sofa looked awfully small with him lying there. He took up the whole length of the sofa. One of his arms had slid off the couch, and dangled over the side. The other was propped up under his head. His feet were crossed and hanging off the other end.
She grabbed a flannel sheet out of the linen closet and went back to cover him up. She took a seat in the chair, just off to the side, and stared at him. How was this possible? Aidan had no family. He had told her that he was alone, too.
This man laying on the couch proved otherwise, didn't it? If she went by her heart, it alone knew. Even her eyes proved it as she studied him. Aidan favored brush cuts, but Alexander's dark brown hair was longer. A few stray hairs had fallen across his forehead, curling just above his left eyebrow. His nose was smooth and straight, while Aidan's had a bump from being broken in a bar fight. She already knew his eyes had passion, she saw that up in the bathroom, Aidan's eyes had held no feeling; unless, he was angry, then they shot out daggers.
With just this bit of time together, she knew he wasn't Aidan. Not just because of slight differences in their appearance, but because of how he acted. Alex had a maturity that Aidan seemed to lack. He was definitely more sophisticated. He carried himself with a certain confidence. Somehow he even looked more handsome. Oh, don't go there girl. You've sworn off love. She couldn't trust her judgment of men and didn't want to find herself in the same situation as before, but yet, here she was, watching a man sleep on her couch. A man so identical to her husband, it was mind-boggling.
Were they long-lost brothers, or simply a case of look-a-likes? After all, didn't everyone in the world have a double? As much as she didn't want them to be, they were connected. If he was Aidan's brother, then the children she carried were related to him. She couldn't just make him leave. She wished to God she could; because, with just a look, and a certain tone of voice, the painful memories she buried deep inside, bubbled to the surface.
How could she find the strength to keep him in her life? His face was part of the life she'd been trying to leave behind. What if he turned out like Aidan? Laryssa shuddered.
Her stomach growled at her. She hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime; and, judging by the pale light shining in the window, it was evening already. Laryssa whipped up a few meat and cheese sandwiches. She placed one on the table in front of Alex and went up to her room to eat the other.
She flopped down on her bed and put a pillow behind her so she could lean up against the wall. He appeared determined to be a fixture in her house unless she agreed to go with him. Having him here gave her mixed feelings. Would it be easier just to go with him to his home? At least there she wouldn't be filled with memories. Maybe her mind wouldn't be so confused. Here, all she had were rooms and things that reminded her of Aidan. Seeing Alex sitting there on the couch didn't help either. She couldn't separate the two of them easily, not here anyway.
Laryssa stared at the door, half expecting him to come charging into the room, demanding her to take her clothes off. Aidan was an inconsiderate, demanding sex fiend. She might as well have been a blowup doll for all the affection he showed. If he didn't make her give him a blow job, he would just stick it in with a wham-bam, no-thank you ma'am.
She did her best to purge the house of Aidan. The neighbor's son had helped her move the furniture around. They moved the double bed from the guestroom into the master bedroom and tossed the king-sized bed. She refused to spend one more night in it after his death. Real-estate agents approached her about selling the house, but where would she go? Not to mention, she really wasn't in the condition to pack and move right now anyway.
Besides, why should she let any man chase her out of her own home, including Alex? She was in control of her own life now and was not about to let any man take that away, not without a fight.
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A/N
Thank you for reading Chapter Five. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far :) Please don't forget to vote and leave a comment. I would love to hear what you think :)