Chapter 39 #2
As we walked, Billie reached out and gripped Alex’s hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Alex didn't pull away. She looked over at me, searching my face for a flash of possessiveness, but she found none.
There was a time for our private games, and there was a time for honour.
Right then, my girl was being an anchor for someone who desperately needed the ground beneath her feet.
Once Billie was safely locked inside her vehicle, she cracked the window. "Thank you, Dr. Carter. And Alex... thank you."
As her car pulled away, the professional mask I’d maintained finally cracked, leaving my eyes dark with calculated malice.
"Hubbard is a dead man, isn't he?" Alex asked softly.
I didn't look back at the building. I reached out, taking the exact hand Billie was just holding, and brought it to my lips, pressing a slow, heavy kiss to her knuckles.
"He’s worse than dead, darling," I murmured, the promise vibrating in my chest. "He’s unemployed. He just doesn't know it yet. Now, let's go home. I believe I have a seven o'clock rule to uphold, and I've never felt more like holding you."
The drive back to the house was quiet. I steered the car through the late-afternoon traffic with smooth, methodical precision, but I could feel the restless energy radiating from the passenger seat. Alex was picking at a loose thread on her denim.
"Mommy?" she murmured softly. "Are you... are you upset with me? For holding Billie's hand?"
I glanced over at her, letting a warm, genuine smile break through my lingering anger. I loved how easily the title slipped from her lips. ”No, princess. Mommy isn't mad. Not in the slightest."
She let out a massive, ragged exhale, sinking deep into the leather.
"You were keeping her safe, Alex," I continued, shifting my hand from the gear stick to rest firmly on her thigh, giving the warm flesh a reassuring, possessive squeeze.
"What I saw back there wasn't a girl playing games or seeking attention.
I saw the woman I love protecting someone who needed it.
You were her anchor, and I couldn't be more proud of you for that. "
"I just... I know things were messy before," she stammered, her cheeks flushing. "I didn't want you to think I was—"
"I know exactly what you were doing," I interrupted gently, pulling the car to a stop at a red light so I could lock my eyes onto hers. "You showed more maturity and compassion in five minutes than Hubbard has shown in his entire career. You acted with honour, darling. And if she needed to hold your hand to feel safe, then I’m glad you were there to give it to her. But make no mistake—while I am proud of you, I am absolutely livid that you were put in that position. And I’m going to make sure that man never sets foot in a university building again. "
Alex smirked, the familiar spark returning to her eyes. "I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."
"Don't," I said decisively as the light turned green. "He made the mistake of making my girl feel unsafe. That is an error he won't be given the chance to repeat.”
As the car glided through the outskirts of the city, a sudden, playful wicked impulse took hold of me.
I let my voice drop into that smooth, academic silkiness.
"You know, Alex... I can see exactly what you saw in her, my darling. Those curves of hers are... rather difficult not to track, even for a woman of my supposed restraint.”
Alex let out a low, pained groan, throwing her head back against the headrest. "Carrie, please don't. I am not saying a single word that might be added to my tombstone. I’ve survived enough heart attacks for one lifetime."
"Hmm. Well, she is an attractive woman," I chuckled, highly amused by the instant flare of heat in her expression. "I’m not blind either, princess. I can appreciate fine aesthetics when they are standing right in front of me."
I didn't need to look away from the road to know exactly what was happening in her brilliant, overactive mind. Her pulse was throbbing violently in her neck. She was spiralling into a sharp, dizzying cocktail of jealousy and heat, wondering if I’d ever looked at Billie with the same predatory hunger I reserved exclusively for her.
"You're doing it again," I murmured, pulling the car into our private driveway.
The headlights cut through the darkness of the garage before I killed the engine.
The silence inside the vehicle became thick, heavy, and intoxicating.
I turned to her, my eyes hooded. "Your pulse is visible in your neck, Alex.
What exactly are you thinking about over there? "
"Nothing," she lied, her breath hitching. "Just... thinking about getting home."
"Liar," I purred, sliding my hand further up her thigh, digging my fingers in just enough to make her whimper. "You’re wondering if I’ve ever seen more of Ms. Davies than a polite colleague should. You’re wondering if Mommy has ever been anything but professional with the woman you used to sneak into offices with. "
"Did you?" she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice striking me right in the chest.
I didn't answer.
I stepped out of the car, slipped off my coat with methodical grace, and walked around to open her door.
My face was a perfect, unreadable mask. I led her into the house, her frustration practically vibrating against my back.
The moment the front door was locked behind us, I took her jacket and shoes, placing them in the cupboard with clinical care.
"Carrie," she snapped, her voice trembling with a potent mix of jealousy and raw nerves. "Are you going to answer me or just keep playing—"
I didn't let her finish.
In a single, fluid blur of motion, I drove her backward.
Her back hit the hallway wall with a solid thud, and before she could even gasp, I pinned both of her wrists securely beside her head.
I leaned in until our lips were centimetres apart, letting her feel the absolute, radiating heat of my body.
"You were being an insufferable little brat today, Alex," I growled, my voice dropping into that controlled, dominant register that turned her bones to water. "You want to know about my history with Ms. Davies? You want to know if I’ve ever crossed that line?"
She just stared up at me, completely undone, her chest heaving against mine.
"Let me be exceptionally clear so that your overactive imagination can finally rest," I snapped, tightening my grip on her wrists.
"There is only one woman in this relationship who knows what Ms. Davies tastes like, Alex.
And it isn't me. I have never touched her.
I have never wanted to. But if you ever suggest again that my loyalty to you is anything less than absolute, I will find a much more...
permanent way to ensure you never forget who you belong to. "
"I didn’t—I wasn't saying you’d look at her now," she rambled frantically, her eyes wide. "I just meant... the way you were talking about her. I was wondering if it had happened in the past, before us. I didn't mean to imply anything."
I let a dark, knowing smirk spread across my lips, my nose brushing against hers.
"Alex, I am a woman with a pulse. I am allowed to find other women enticing, just as you are.
Finding someone aesthetically pleasing is a far cry from acting on it.
My loyalty is absolute, but I am not going to apologise for having eyes. Were you asking me to?"
"No! No, of course not," she shook her head against the wall. "That would be hypocritical. It’s totally normal to... you know, notice people."
The trap snapped shut.
"So," I purred, tilting my head to look down her nose. "You find other women attractive? Is that what you were telling me, princess?"
Her brain hit a spectacular brick wall. "Wait—no. I mean, yes, but—not like— I... I just meant in general," she stammered, her face turning a magnificent shade of crimson. "Like, as a concept. Not that I’m looking."
I released one of her wrists, my fingers sliding down to grip her jaw firmly, forcing her to maintain absolute eye contact.
My thumb slowly traced the swell of her lower lip.
"Is that so? Because a moment ago, you were very concerned about my 'appreciation for aesthetics.
' Perhaps we should discuss who else has been catching your eye while you’re supposed to be focusing on your coursework. "
"Nobody," she breathed, completely conquered. "There’s nobody else, Carrie. I swear."
"Good," I whispered, my gaze dropping to her mouth. "Because I don't share my toys, Alex. And I certainly don't like it when they get distracted."
"I know," she whimpered, leaning helplessly into my hand. "I know you don't share. I promise, you don't ever have to share anything. I’m yours.”
Satisfied, I slowly released her wrists, letting my hands rest heavily on her waist to pull her flush against my wine-coloured dress.
"Good. Because while I might appreciate a fine silhouette from a distance, I am far more interested in the girl currently trembling in my hallway. The one who thinks she can interrogate me and get away with it." I leaned down, pressing my lips to the sensitive skin just below her ear, listening to her breath hitch. "I think you’ve had quite enough excitement for one afternoon, Alex. Between playing the hero in the car park and playing the brat in the car, you’ve worked up quite a debt. Go upstairs. Get out of those jeans and wait for me in the bedroom. I need to make one phone call regarding Mr. Hubbard, and then I am going to remind you exactly why you don’t need to worry about anyone else. "
She nodded quickly and turned for the stairs.
"Alex?" I called out. She stopped on the first step, clutching the banister and looking back at me. I stood in the centre of the hallway, letting the warmth in my chest show completely. "I love you."
Her expression softened into something so beautiful it made my chest ache. "I love you too," she breathed, before disappearing upstairs.