Chapter 30 Light Sleeper
CHAPTER THIRTY
light sleeper
MARK
It feels like I’ve just woken up. Like I’ve only now truly started living.
I’ve had sex countless times. I’ve seen enough women unravel in my arms, smiling at me.
But it’s never made me feel like this. My heart is too big for my chest, and I’m sure Rey can feel it beating against her side as I lie here, close to her. As close as I can get.
It’s late, and I know I need to leave—to get home, so I can wake up in the morning (in six hours to be exact) and do my regular routine before I start another day.
I’ve never taken a sick day in my life. But I’m contemplating it.
What would happen if I simply didn’t show up at work tomorrow?
If I disregarded everything and just sunk my face in between those soft thighs again and stayed there.
“You look thinky,” she says, brushing a thumb over my brow. There’s a hint of worry in her voice, and I know she has a lot of questions. Questions I have too. That I can’t answer yet.
What are we? How does this work?
“I’m thinking about how I can see you. I want to get to know you even better. I want to know everything about you.”
“Everything?” She grins.
“Yes.” I roll onto my side and prop my head up to see her better.
“Like what?”
“Hmm, where to start?” I ask, dipping down and brushing my nose against her temple and down the side of her face. “What do you eat for breakfast?”
She laughs, and it’s a glorious sound.
“I rarely have breakfast because I sleep in and need to rush to work. But if I have time, I have butter with toast.”
“What? You mean toast with butter?”
I brush a lock of hair off her forehead, and she follows my arm with her eyes.
“Yes, but with a lot of butter.”
“That’s it?”
“Don’t underestimate buttered toast.”
“Okay,” I say, but can’t help grinning at her. Why do I find everything she says so adorable? She’s just talking about toast.
“What about you?”
“It depends, but my favourite is a decent shakshuka.”
“I’ve never tried it.”
“Come stay with me on Friday, and I’ll have my chef make it for you,” I whisper against her neck and kiss the soft skin under her ear. “It goes well with buttered toast.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, I need to know we can do this again.”
“You don’t have to do … billionaire stuff on the weekend?”
I chuckle. “What’s billionaire stuff?”
“You tell me. Wealth management, investment stuff? I don’t want to get in your way.”
“Trust me, my wealth managers are paid enough not to need to talk to me every day. I want to be with you.”
There’s the sound of a door slamming downstairs, and Rey stiffens.
“Shit,” she hisses. “Xander.”
“Your brother?”
She nods. “Jesus, I just remembered I think I heard him earlier, actually.” She claps a hand to her mouth. “I hope I’m wrong, but this time it was definitely him.”
“Should we wait here until he goes to sleep?” I ask, and fall back on the pillow, suddenly realising how tired I am. I let my eyelids fall closed and her scent envelop me, and I’m entirely at home in this space. “Let me know when he’s gone.”
I wake up not realising where I am straight away. I hadn’t planned to fall asleep here, but I’m happy to find Rey next to me. Just as I had imagined, just as in my dreams. Her long lashes fan out over her cheeks.
She looks so serene. She’s the most beautiful human I’ve laid eyes on.
I don’t want to look at anyone else ever again.
She’s gone and fucked me up, it seems. I can’t even remember any other woman’s face at this stage.
There’s a strand of hair making its way down her forehead with every breath she takes. I brush it away before it falls over her face, gently tracing a finger across an eyebrow and over her temple, securing the lock of hair behind her ear.
It’s only five in the morning, but this is when I wake up normally. My body clock is hard-wired to it.
I should get home before the morning traffic hits.
“See you later, Rey,” I whisper and kiss her cheek. She lets out a small moan that makes my body ache with need, but I bite down and breathe in to calm myself. “What have you done to me?”
I slide into my crumpled suit trousers and pull on my torn shirt. Jesus, the state of me. I button up my waistcoat and force the shirt into position. Luckily, I’m just going to the car outside.
Sneaking out of the house at this time shouldn’t have been a problem, but I’d forgotten about the fucking dog.
He’s sleeping on the landing, snoring like an old man. Jesus Christ, that’s loud.
How deeply do dogs sleep?
I tiptoe, something I can’t recall doing since I was a child, hoping it’ll make my movement through the house quieter. But being six foot three and heavy as hell ensures a solid creaking of even the best-laid floors.
Creak.
I hold my breath.
Creak.
The dog rolls over, and his head flops outside his little dog bed. He’s now upside down, with his tongue hanging over his eye and those floppy cheeks melting downwards.
I let out a small laugh at the sight of him, and he twitches.
Fuck.
Okay, I really need to get a move on. What’s the worst that can happen?
I step past the dog and down the stairs. The house creaks the whole way down, and I curse along with it. As fast as I can, I shove my feet into my damp leather shoes, and I hear the animal panting as he flounders down the stairs.
Instinctively, I look up, and meet the dog’s eyes. It’s as if he takes it as an invitation, and before I can think another thought, he tumbles down the last steps, making a bloody racket.
I get a leg-full of saliva, trying to keep him at bay while opening the door.
“Stay here, Beanie,” I say, hoping he’ll listen. “Staaaay.”
“Who’s there?” a male voice sounds from upstairs. Shit.
The dog turns towards the voice, and I pop out the door and close it behind me without the little rascal following me. I drag a hand through my hair and stride down the path.
Just as I close the wrought-iron gate behind me, there’s the sound of the front door opening.
“Hey,” the same voice says, and I turn to face a man in his boxers and a white t-shirt. He has the same eyes as Rey and ruffled hair, the same dark brown as hers. Xander. I’m expecting to get an earful and square my shoulders. The adrenaline is already rushing.
“Mark Becker, I was afraid it’d be you,” he says after a beat.
How the fuck? Am I that recognisable? I grit my teeth, not wanting to put my foot in it.
“I overheard way more than a big brother should when I came home last night.” He winces, and I don’t even want to imagine what I’d do to someone if I heard them having sex with any of my sisters. But Xander doesn’t seem angry. He’s more … worried?
He pinches the bridge of his nose and curses to himself. “I hoped those thousand-pound shoes belonged to a different rich Mark, but here you are.”
I rub my chin, not sure what the hell I’m supposed to say. Sorry you heard your sister coming, screaming my name?
“Say something,” he says, and my eyes snap back to him.
“Pardon me?”
“Are you just like the other guy then? Preying on the interns?”
“Hey, it’s not like that,” I say, squaring my shoulders again. “We met before she started. And she’s a grown woman.”
Xander lets out a frustrated groan and rubs the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He mutters under his breath. “Never going to be able to unhear that.”
“I have to go,” I say, not sure why he’s still just standing there. What does he expect me to do?
“Don’t play her, Mark Becker, do you hear me?”
I don’t intend to, but the adrenaline is rushing, and he’s pissing me off with his insinuations.
“Are you done?”
“For now. But I don’t trust for a second that you’re not just the same predator as your old friend, and I hope to fuck you’ll prove me wrong.”
I nod curtly and take the few steps to my Aston covered in fresh morning dew. Once I’m out of sight, I let out the breath I was holding and lean on my car. Xander’s words echo in my head.
The same predator as your old friend…
All of this is new to me. These feelings I have for Rey. I’m not a predator, and I know that, that’s never how I’ve approached women. But I know everyone will have the same idea as her brother.
That I’m just like Damian.
I better fucking make sure no one finds out until I can prove them wrong, but as I drive to the office—grateful I have a spare suit and a private ensuite there—I realise I’m not sure how the hell I’d do that. Can we keep this a secret long enough for me to find out?