anything though. Maybe Jeremy will want to play a game of basketball, or hit the gym. He is probably home. That's it. I'll work out, and then hit the lab.
I put my cigarette out and grab for my phone. One more thing would be nice to add to that plan. I dial Alex's number.
It rings four times before going to voicemail. Is she avoiding me? My shoulders slump in defeat. I hate that it bums me out.
I decide to go pack a gym bag to push the image of that pretty face to the back of my mind. I have other things I have to handle now.
JEREMY HUNT
I stretch, feeling deliciously sore, and grin. I have spent most of the last day—and night—making love to Alex. Just to double-check that I am not dreaming, I turn my head to make sure she is still here. Nope, not dreaming.
I cannot imagine a better way to spend my Saturday —and Sunday. Fucking and lying in bed for hours, talking with the girl who, for reasons I cannot figure out, makes me happy.
What a concept.
I lean over, analyzing her sleeping features. Her hair cascades over her face and shoulders, complementing her flawless light-olive skin and her beautiful, exotic features. She is too easy on the eyes. The pink pouty lips I spent most of the evening kissing hang partially open. Sleeping Beauty is surely exhausted from last night, and she is all mine.
Her face is calm, serene even, which is a remarkable sight and delightful to witness. Even through the evening, as we lie naked together, tangled in the sheets laughing and giggling with each other, she always had a comeback, a witty response, a coy look, or an adorable smirk to retort with. She was always ready for a playful fight.
If any girl is my match, it might be her. The thought frightens and excites me at the same time.
I take advantage of her serene state to admire and appreciate her. Appreciate her?
I bounce the new idea in my head, and yes, for some reason , I do appreciate this beautifully frustrating being.
I learned so much about her. Her favorite color is green. Her favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. She enjoys mint chocolate chip ice cream, and her favorite movie is The Usual Suspects . But she steered clear of real questions. Where are you from? What about your family? Where did you go to school? She came back with the same answers:
I can't tell you yet ; please give me time.
I am dangerous; those aren't things I can tell you.
Family is something I can't talk about; it's too personal.
I'm not good for you , Jeremy. You deserve more.
She could be my more, couldn’t she? I told her I am willing to be patient. I assume this emotional wall she has built is due to some catastrophic life event. Therefore, I'm not going to push it, and I hope in time she will trust me enough to open up.
The large scar on her shoulder catches my attention. I knit my eyebrows as I analyze it from afar. I reach out and graze the old wound with my fingertips, eager to understand.
The streak of scar tissue is evidence of a previously deep wound.
A dark past maybe? Abuse? Drunken father? An angry boyfriend? These musings anger me, filling me with a deep need to protect her.
I brush it off, and instead lean in and kiss the scar chastely, giving it the only remedy I can offer for now.
She stirs and lets out a breathy gasp at the brief touch. I watch her pull the comforter closer to her body, as if to give her a sense of security.
She plays the tough girl, but I wonder what's under that tough exterior.
I know I got a glimpse of it yesterday. Her wonderful giggle is proof of what's there—a person aching to be happy, but completely overwhelmed by the idea.
That makes two of us, babe.
I decide to get out of bed to make some calls. A CEO never sleeps.
CHAPTER NINE
Body Language
ALEX TURNER
My eyes flicker open. I don't know at first what has woken me, but through my half-lidded eyes , I see Jeremy's wonderfully blurry physique slip on his underwear and make his way out of the bedroom. I
I put my cigarette out and grab for my phone. One more thing would be nice to add to that plan. I dial Alex's number.
It rings four times before going to voicemail. Is she avoiding me? My shoulders slump in defeat. I hate that it bums me out.
I decide to go pack a gym bag to push the image of that pretty face to the back of my mind. I have other things I have to handle now.
JEREMY HUNT
I stretch, feeling deliciously sore, and grin. I have spent most of the last day—and night—making love to Alex. Just to double-check that I am not dreaming, I turn my head to make sure she is still here. Nope, not dreaming.
I cannot imagine a better way to spend my Saturday —and Sunday. Fucking and lying in bed for hours, talking with the girl who, for reasons I cannot figure out, makes me happy.
What a concept.
I lean over, analyzing her sleeping features. Her hair cascades over her face and shoulders, complementing her flawless light-olive skin and her beautiful, exotic features. She is too easy on the eyes. The pink pouty lips I spent most of the evening kissing hang partially open. Sleeping Beauty is surely exhausted from last night, and she is all mine.
Her face is calm, serene even, which is a remarkable sight and delightful to witness. Even through the evening, as we lie naked together, tangled in the sheets laughing and giggling with each other, she always had a comeback, a witty response, a coy look, or an adorable smirk to retort with. She was always ready for a playful fight.
If any girl is my match, it might be her. The thought frightens and excites me at the same time.
I take advantage of her serene state to admire and appreciate her. Appreciate her?
I bounce the new idea in my head, and yes, for some reason , I do appreciate this beautifully frustrating being.
I learned so much about her. Her favorite color is green. Her favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. She enjoys mint chocolate chip ice cream, and her favorite movie is The Usual Suspects . But she steered clear of real questions. Where are you from? What about your family? Where did you go to school? She came back with the same answers:
I can't tell you yet ; please give me time.
I am dangerous; those aren't things I can tell you.
Family is something I can't talk about; it's too personal.
I'm not good for you , Jeremy. You deserve more.
She could be my more, couldn’t she? I told her I am willing to be patient. I assume this emotional wall she has built is due to some catastrophic life event. Therefore, I'm not going to push it, and I hope in time she will trust me enough to open up.
The large scar on her shoulder catches my attention. I knit my eyebrows as I analyze it from afar. I reach out and graze the old wound with my fingertips, eager to understand.
The streak of scar tissue is evidence of a previously deep wound.
A dark past maybe? Abuse? Drunken father? An angry boyfriend? These musings anger me, filling me with a deep need to protect her.
I brush it off, and instead lean in and kiss the scar chastely, giving it the only remedy I can offer for now.
She stirs and lets out a breathy gasp at the brief touch. I watch her pull the comforter closer to her body, as if to give her a sense of security.
She plays the tough girl, but I wonder what's under that tough exterior.
I know I got a glimpse of it yesterday. Her wonderful giggle is proof of what's there—a person aching to be happy, but completely overwhelmed by the idea.
That makes two of us, babe.
I decide to get out of bed to make some calls. A CEO never sleeps.
CHAPTER NINE
Body Language
ALEX TURNER
My eyes flicker open. I don't know at first what has woken me, but through my half-lidded eyes , I see Jeremy's wonderfully blurry physique slip on his underwear and make his way out of the bedroom. I
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