Page 6 of Filthy Dirty Dom
At her words, their gazes met again, the unspoken attraction swirling between them. Their chemistry was undeniable, the energy pulsating in the kitchen.
“We should eat and you should get going,” Alex said abruptly though not unkindly. “I’m sure you have a lot on your plate.”
And that’s why I can’t get close to him. Because he always, always pulls back. “I do,” she said quietly.
They ate their breakfast and did the dishes, then Leslie did her best to clean herself up, using one of Alex’s dark washcloths to remove the smudged makeup left over from the night before and using a new toothbrush still in its package. When she headed back into the living area, Alex was leaning against the wall near the front door. He straightened when he saw her, and she grabbed her purse.
“Thanks again for checking on me, Sunshine,” Alex said. “I’ll drive you back to your place.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No. But I will,” he insisted.
There was no point in fighting even if it did mean more time with him, thus further testing her resolve. “Okay, thanks.”
The ride to her brownstone was relatively quiet, the air filled with tension even as they made small talk. When he got to her place, he opened his car door only for her to place her hand on his arm.
“Alex.”
He turned. “Yes?”
She licked her lips. Fine. They were going to be just friends. But there was some part of her, the part that would probably never stop yearning for Alex, that needed to know she was more…that whether they acted on their attraction or not, she was still special to him.
“Remember what you said that one time, back when you and my brother were still in college and I’d just entered eighth grade, and that girl I thought was my best friend stole my boyfriend?”
Alex frowned. “No. Sorry, I don’t recall. What did I say?”
“You said that a friendship built on a sandcastle is nothing but that—sand and the water holding it together. A sandcastle friendship is easy to destroy with water, force, or even air. It easily slips through your fingers.”
“I sound profound.”
She laughed. “You were. You also told me that friendships built on rocks, like your friendship with Branden, were the only ones truly worth fighting for.” She hesitated then said, “Do you think our friendship is built on rocks?”
His stared at her for a moment, his gaze searching then suddenly burning. Reaching out, he cupped her chin in his palm, causing her to gasp. “Leslie, this is something I want you to always remember. My refusal to deepen our relationship has nothing to do with how much I care for you. If a solid friendship is built on rocks, then our friendship is like the roots of an ancient oak tree, delving deep into the earth, anchoring us together through every storm that comes our way. It's like the endless ocean, stretching beyond the horizon, boundless and constant. And it's like the stars above us, guiding me through the darkness, reminding me that you are always there, even when we're apart. Leslie, you are my rock, my oak tree, my ocean, and my guiding star. I would do anything to protect you, even if it means stepping aside and watching you flourish in a life that I only have limited access to. Even if it means part of me dies. Because in my mind, baby, they’re the exact same thing.”
3
A valet in a black suit held open the door to David’s Lamborghini, and Leslie shivered as the wind whistled past. Her mid-thigh black leather stiletto boots and full-length blood red wool cape did little to cut the chill in the air. As the valet shut the car door and she waited on the sidewalk for David to come around and take her arm, she shivered again, this time from excitement.
After all, for Leslie, exploring a sex club was a brand-new experience.
One she aimed to thoroughly enjoy.
David appeared at her side. He was dressed in a navy-blue suit with a subdued light blue and black checked silk tie and a matching silk handkerchief in his pocket. A wool overcoat was draped over his shoulders and a white cashmere scarf hung loose around his neck. He always dressed in a dapper manner, consistent with his reputation as a world-class surgeon, and tonight was no different. He would never need Leslie to go clothes shopping for him, not the way she had with Alex about five months ago when he’d gone undercover as part of Branden’s tech team at Dubois and Mellan, the same company where Cara Michal, Branden’s now fiancée, worked. Alex had run with Leslie’s fashion advice, but had been clearly happy when he could go back to his normal style: jeans, boots and a tight-fitting tee that showed off the tattoos on both his arms.
A jolt ran through her body as she realized she was daydreaming about Alex again even as she was about to walk into a sex club with her quasi-boyfriend.
Leslie, you are my rock, my oak tree, my ocean, and my guiding star. I would do anything to protect you, even if it means stepping aside and watching you flourish in a life that I only have limited access to. Even if it means part of me dies. Because in many ways, they’re the exact same thing.
Leslie had only seen him a handful of times since he’d said those momentous words to her, but even now the memory made her knees weak.
He’d never spoken so poetically or so openly about his feelings for her, and at the time, she’d longed to cry out: “Then why? Why, if I’m so important to you, won’t you take a chance on us?” But he’d already told her why—to protect her from the enemies he’d made through his job as a private investigator slash security specialist—and thankfully she’d managed to keep her instinctive question to herself. Managed to not make a fool of herself yet again by trying to convince Alex to be with her.
She’d gone down that road one too many times. She wasn’t going to travel it again.
“Here. This is for you,” David told the valet, handing the man the car’s key fob and a twenty-dollar bill.
“Thank you, Dr. Martinez,” the valet said. “I’ll take great care of your car.” He dipped a quick bow to Leslie before heading around the car to the driver’s seat.