Page 29 of The Alpha Escort Agency
His gaze is trained on hers, and the intensity of it makes her cheeks warm.
“What?”
He places the glass down on the table. “I like how passionate you are about your work.”
Her work is her life. But saying that out loud would make her sound sad and pathetic, wouldn't it? She shrugs instead. “I love my work.”
“You live alone. You must work hard to afford your own place.”
“I do. I also inherited some money. Not much, but enough to help me buy this place.”
“I like it. It's very you.”
“It is?” She swings her head, taking in her flat, wondering what he makes of it.
“Yes, vibrant … exciting.”
“Ha!” she laughs. “I don't think that's how most people would describe me. Dull and practical is probably how my friend Maria would describe me.”
He shakes his head. “I think that's how you see yourself. But this flat is not dull and practical. I mean, nobody would put the fridge so far away from the oven and the worktops if they were practical.”
“Oh, where should it be then?”
“There, in the corner.” He points across to the other side of the room.
“Ahhh, maybe you are right.”
“I am.” The side of his mouth curls into a smile and it makes her insides flutter. It makes the pressure building in her stomach greater. Soon she'll be begging him to fuck her, there're beads of sweat already forming along her collarbone and rolling down between her breasts. His eyes keep flicking there and he licks his lips as if he'd like to swipe up the droplets with his tongue.
No. She wants to hold on to this moment for a little bit longer.
“Do you live alone?” she asks.
“Yes. I have my own place.” His eyes are focused on her with their usual ferocity.
“What's it like?”
“It's a Victorian terrace.” They are unblinking, and the ever changing colour lulls her closer.
“I love those — they've got so much character,” she says, barely hearing her own words.
“My heating bills are huge and I'm having frequent battles to keep mice from invading the kitchen, but I like it.” Beside him, his fingers curl and flex as if he is concentrating on this conversation with all his might, preventing himself from reaching out to touch her.
She swallows and breathes, “You need to get a cat.”
“A cat?”
“Yes, to keep the mice away.”
He shakes his head.
“Why not? Can't a big strong Alpha have a cuddly little pussy cat?” She watches his face to see how he’ll react to the tease.
“Hey now,” he warns, eyes twinkling.
She kneels up onto the sofa, decreasing the space between them.
“Would the idly widly fluff ball ruin your hard-man reputation?”
