Rachel—images of her kept invading his mind. Her face, both passionate and subdued, stared up at him, her hands softly caressing his back, pulling him closer.
Since she had waltzed back into his life, everything had been disrupted.
The hum of the vacuum droned on, competing with the soft music playing in the background, drowning out every other sound.
The faint ringing of the doorbell was barely audible beneath the vacuum's noise and his turbulent thoughts. It rang multiple times before he finally noticed. He switched off the vacuum, the sudden silence almost startling, and made his way to the door.
Speak of the devil, he thought.
He hadn't expected her, considering how she had stormed out of his office. He had thought was going to have to track her down to fulfill her end of their agreement.
"You didn't tell me you were coming," he said, surprise clear in his voice.
She didn't owe him an explanation; he wanted her here, and here she was. The quicker she accepted that this was her life for the next couple of months, the quicker it would come to an end.
"I just thought we might as well get it over and done with." Her tone made it clear this was the last place she wanted to be.
"You could have called," he reiterated. "I could have sent someone to pick you up."
"There was no need. That's what taxis and Ubers are for," she replied curtly, her eyes staring at the door, wondering if he would let her in or turn her away.
He simply smiled, a mixture of amusement and resignation crossing his face as he moved aside to let her in.
Alex knew he wasn't going to have it easy with her, and that was one of the things he admired about her. Her defiance, sometimes unnecessary, was always interesting to watch.
Pulling her luggage behind her, she made her way inside. Nostalgia hit her instantly as she stepped into the apartment. The air was cool and fresh,the faint scent of pine cleaner lingering.
The high-rise apartment was a masterpiece of modern sophistication. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the bustling cityscape below, while sleek lines and minimalist decor created a sense of elegance and refinement.
The open-plan living area was bathed in warm, golden light, and the gleaming hardwood floors seemed to stretch on forever.
The apartment was a haven of tranquility, a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of the city below.
She hadn't expected to ever be in this space again, but here she was, taking an internal breath to calm her nerves she let her eyes wander.
The apartment had hardly changed; everything remained as she had left it, save for a few new paintings on the walls.
A sprawling sectional sofa in a soft, neutral tone dominated the center of the space, arranged on a soft, grey rug that added warmth and texture to the otherwise minimalist room.
The space was impeccably organized, with built-in shelving units on the back wall displaying a curated collection of books, art pieces, and decorative objects, lending the room a personal touch without overwhelming its clean aesthetic.
He followed closely behind, his gaze intent on her every move. Her expression was unreadable to him, a carefully crafted mask hiding the turmoil within.
Standing in the center of the room,she could tell he was in the middle of his weekly routine.She almost smiled in admiration.
He was a man who loved his space, did his laundry, and cleaned. Despite his busy schedule, he somehow found the time to make his abode comfortable to his taste. It was a routine for him every weekend except for weekdays when the cleaners came.
She found it strange at first but soon got used to him doing it, it was therapeutic to him she assumed.
"I'll take your things upstairs," he offered casually, moving toward her suitcases.
She hesitated, her hand gripping the suitcase handle tightly. She subtly resisted his gesture, signaling with a slight shake of her head that she didn't need his help, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on him.
She had forgotten how he looked without all the armor of tailored suits and ties with designer shoes that made him look invincible to the world.
Now, in casual attire, he seemed almost vulnerable. She looked at him, drooling internally as if he were a glorious feast set before her. Her eyes hovered over him, unsure where to start.
His black hair was tousled into a hot mess, yet it somehow made him even more appetizing.His blue eyes glinted with curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.
She swallowed hard, feeling an intense thirst in her dry throat, heart pounding she let her gaze wander.
"You know you're going to have to get rid of that foul mood of yours," he said, his voice teasing but gentle.
He couldn't understand how she could switch off her emotions so easily. He knew it had been a long time, but he missed the way her laughter used to light up the room, the way her touch made his worries melt away. In his world of constant pressure and control, she had been a breath of fresh air. With her, he could be himself, unburdened and free.He frowned, confusion clouding his features.
"And why is that?she asked "You didn't give me a choice." Insinuating she was going to be how ever she pleases as long as she was here.
He smiled softly, his hands sliding into his pockets, a silent acknowledgment that no matter how hard she pushed him away, he would remain steadfast.
"For one, we'll be spending a lot of time together here... under the same roof," he added, his voice laced with temptation that hinted at more than he intended.
"Secondly, we have unfinished business." hinting at their time in his office.
Her scent filling his nostrils, the triggering scent sending pulses of warmth along every inch of his nerves.
Her face turned at the reminder, making him smile to himself as he watched her, his eyes softening as he took in her familiar yet changed presence.
Hearing him acknowledge it, relishing in her discomfort, only fueled her frustration. She fought the urge to scream, opting instead for a forced smile.
"We are not sharing a room," she stated firmly, her eyes locking with his in a silent challenge.
"Why not?" he asked, a playful grin on his face, hands in his pockets as he awaited her response.
Sex wasn't the foundation of their relationship, but it had always been a powerful connection between them. Even when he wrestled internally with his decisions regarding her, their physical chemistry was undeniable—he couldn't resist her.
"Or is there something you are afraid of?" he asked, pulling his arms out of his pockets and folding them in front of him to control himself from what his thoughts and body were doing to him.
A lump formed in her throat at his question, her heartbeat quickening. There were countless reasons why she couldn't—and shouldn't—share a bed with him.
"Must there be a reason to refuse to share a bed with you?" she retorted, meeting his challenging gaze head-on.
"You tell me," he replied, his eyes casually glancing toward the sofa before returning to hers.
Unease swept through her at his insinuation. She took a subtle step back, not wanting to reveal how deeply he affected her.
This feeling scared her, yet at the same time, it thrilled her.
"Sex is just one aspect of a relationship," she insisted.
"But it can be a good place to start, don't you think?" he countered, his words laden with temptation, sending a shiver down her spine with every syllable.
"There's no starting anything," Rachel reminded him, her voice a mix of frustration and resignation.
"You never know, this could just be the beginning," he replied, a smile slowly forming at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Rachel opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. They were trapped in an endless cycle, and it was clear he enjoyed this dance they were doing.
Giving him a dismissive shrug, her expression carefully neutral, concealing her thoughts.
"You wanted me here, and here I am, at your lord's command," she retorted, almost bowing mockingly, sarcasm lacing her tone. "But you never mentioned anything about talking or relating with each other."
As she began to pull her luggage upstairs, her movements deliberate and heavy, she could feel his eyes burning into her back. His voice, tinged with frustration at her provocation, cut through the tension.
"You know what I meant." he replied.
Feigning innocence, she turned slightly, giving him a nonchalant shrug. "I don't... Next time, be more specific."
She continued up the stairs, the weight of her suitcases dragging behind her, leaving him to stew in the unresolved tension that simmered between them.
The staircase with a sleek, metal railing led to a hallway, she tugged her luggage past framed photographs and the lingering scent of wood and lavender polish.
When she reached the master bedroom, she hesitated, her hand resting on the cold, brass doorknob. The last memory came creeping back—lying sobbing in the dark, her tears soaking into the pillow, with no one to comfort her, no one to tell her she was strong enough to figure things out.
Pulling her hand back as if the doorknob had burned her, she turned away.
But on second thought, why should she let him torment her any longer? Her resolve hardened as she squared her shoulders, and she pivoted back toward the master bedroom, determined to return the favor.
*****
The ensuing weeks stretched longer than he had anticipated, the presence of her lingering in his thoughts more profoundly than he could have foreseen.
Though their interactions were sparse, her essence seemed to permeate every corner of the apartment, her scent an indelible imprint.
Whenever they were together, she had made it a point of duty to torment him, she knew he wanted her and she toyed with his emotions like a cat with a mouse.
She would walk past him the kitchen or around the house, her silky robe brushing against his arm a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
Her outfits provocatively chosen, each one more daring than the last leaving little to his imagination.
He could barely concentrate with her around but it was a sweet torment one he looked forward to but she was really playing with fire
He looked up at her from the rim of his cup as she walked into the kitchen,her outfit sending his mind miles away in just one glance.
He had worked out a way to win her heart but what he hadn't anticipated was her defiance to let him in.
"Evening," she said as she entered the kitchen. Moving over to the fridge, she grabbed some ingredients to make a sandwich.
Frustration and anger, mixed with a whole lot of sexual desire, fueled his tone. "What are you playing at?" he asked as he set his cup down on the counter, his voice raw and husky as he stood in front of her.
"What do you mean?" She replied casually, her voice dripping with innocence,eyes focused on the sandwich she was making.
A grin cast on his face, he moved closer, his eyes studying her. "I mean this..." his voice barely above a whisper, low and seductive. His gaze bore into her, sending a rush of heat through her body.
Like a lamb before slaughter,she stood there as if in a trance,only aware of the burning desire awakening inside her.
"You're tormenting me," he murmured, his fingers trailing slowly down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
His eyes never leaving hers, he locked her in place. Pinned against the countertop, she had no way of escape, nor did she want to. Their bodies so close, the warmth radiating from him melted onto her skin, her pulse quickening.
He could feel her heartbeat quickening under his chest, she looked so innocent yet so enticing ,her body reacting to his touch like kindling to a flame sent him nerves going haywire.
He could feel her heartbeat quickening under his chest. She looked so innocent yet so enticing; her body reacting to his touch like kindling to a flame sent his nerves going haywire.
Lifting her head to his,his lips descended on hers. Her nipples hardened painfully as desire coursed through her veins; her hands moving of their own accord exploring the hard planes of his back.
Gently cupping her buttocks in his hands, he lifted her effortlessly onto the countertop,her legs wrapping around him as his lips devoured hers.
His tongue danced with hers, drawing moans of unspoken desire. Her hips moved against his waist, as his hands ran along her spine, finding their way to her bare thighs and stroking them with a need that matched her own."
His tongue danced with hers, drawing moans of unspoken desire. Her hips moving against his waist as his hands ran along her spine finding it's way to her bare thighs and stroking them with a need that matched her own.
Slipping his hands under her soft ,thin night dress,his fingers met her warmth and a hard moan escaped her her hips moving against his hands legs spread further apart to accommodate his touch.
Suddenly,it was over,he pulled himself away from her but his face was still in front of her so close she could taste his warm breath.
Confusion rocked her as she stared into his eyes. The storm that had once raged in those deep blue eyes now held an icy coldness.
"This is not a game you're going to win," his tone clear and certain.
She wasn't like other woman who constantly threw themselves at him:She was different,he didn't know why but he knew he wasn't going to have her just cause he could.
She wasn't like other women who constantly threw themselves at him; she was different. He didn't know why, but he knew he wasn't going to have her just because he could.
Breathless and still reveling in the shared moment, which was rapidly spiraling into a nightmare, she stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, her heart pounding as dread crept in.
"I'll only want you when you want me," he said, his voice steady. The silence in the kitchen made his sincerity clear, the depth of emotion evident in his eyes.
She didn't understand what he meant or what he was saying; she couldn't process anything at the moment, her mind a cloudy fog. All she wanted was to disappear.
He continued to stare at her, as if she were a broken toy,still silent, he stood upright, his hands running through his hair in confusion.
Pulling herself off the countertop and questioning what had just happened, she exited the kitchen, leaving him engulfed in a mix of emotions and silence.