Chapter 16
16
A t Leslie’s text, Alex frowned. He hadn’t expected to hear from her, figuring she’d let him stew on her offer as long as possible. He especially hadn’t expected her to lead with this.
Alex: What kind of deal?
Leslie: What will it take for you to go to a Zumba class with me?
Alex barked out a laugh. He totally got what she was doing. Cutting the tension between them to communicate that even if he said no to her offer, they’d still be friends.
Friends .
He was starting to hate that word.
Alex: More money than even you or your family have.
Leslie: *Eye roll emoji*
Leslie: Lost cause?
Alex: Without a doubt.
Leslie: Fine. I won’t even try. Have you given what I offered any thought? Because no pressure, Alex. If it’s a no again, we’ll move on same as before.
Hours had gone by and Alex still hadn’t responded to her last text.
Leslie was taking that as a good sign because he hadn’t said no yet.
But he likely would. She couldn’t get her hopes up high.
In fact, she should text him again and tell him to pretend she’d never asked.
She was such a glutton for punishment. Why else would she let Alex take her to a sex club? Though even as she did feel punished, knowing that even after everything they’d done inside that club, she probably wouldn’t get to experience it again, she knew in many, many ways, she’d won more than she could have ever dreamed possible.
She’d seen Alex’s huge, beautiful cock.
Seen him jerking himself off.
Seen him losing control as he came all over her breasts.
And that was worth all kinds of punishment.
Afternoon light shone through the multi-paned wide window at the back of Leslie’s studio, flooding the studio space with a delicate brightness. Icicles hung from the windowsill, the sunlight glinting off the melting spikes, the slow drip, drip, drip of the melted water a soothing rhythmic pattern that could barely be heard. Leslie stretched, yawned, and collapsed on a fabric-strewn easy chair next to the window. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law Cara had just left, having come over for a dress fitting earlier. When she’d agreed to design Cara’s wedding dress, she hadn’t known how anxious she’d become, wanting it to be perfect but she’d been pleasantly surprised by how fast the dress was coming together, and enthralled with the design and the process. This morning, they’d had fun pinning and tucking the dress into place, both laughing over the latest antics of Leslie’s youngest sister, Jeanette, who’d just had her eighteenth birthday, and dishing about Leslie’s brother Branden.
Leslie cast her gaze over to the beautiful white dress hanging on the mannequin. There was still so much to do. The darts she’d taken in today still needed to be sewn, the hem put to rights, and the extra beading she and Cara had decided on that morning still needed to be hand sewn. Hours of work.
But she had time, and the dress was going to be gorgeous. Simply amazing. Even she felt a sense of awe when she looked at the gown. It was interesting, but she’d never really considered designing wedding gowns when she got into fashion and design. And as she’d been thinking about starting her own boutique clothing line, designing wedding dresses hadn’t been a consideration. But when Cara had asked her to design her wedding gown, she’d been ecstatic and had jumped at the chance. The process had gone so much faster than she’d anticipated, and designing her future sister’s dress had been a stimulating experience. Now she wanted to design even more.
Inspiration struck, and she grabbed her favorite sketchbook and a charcoal pencil. Within seconds, she was lost to the sound of the charcoal scratching on the paper, the form taking shape under her hand, the shadows and the lines, and the—
Her phone rang, interrupting her fugue state. Sighing, she put her sketchbook and pencil down and checked who was calling. It was her sister Rachel.
“Hey, Rach, how’s it going? How’s Roe?” she asked when she answered the call.
“Besides being utterly in love with me? Roe’s great,” Rachel said warmly. “And so am I. You doing good?”
“Cara just came over for a fitting for her wedding dress, and it went great. Therefore, I am great,” Leslie said.
If great includes being a nervous wreck waiting for Alex to text me back.
She felt a little like she’d sent him one of those grade school notes, the kind that asked someone to circle yes or no to the question of whether they liked you, but instead, Leslie had asked Alex if he’d be her BDSM fuck buddy for a month.
“Are you going to give me any details? How about if I bribe you with a batch of Branden’s butterscotch and macadamia nut cookies?”
Leslie laughed, then stood and walked over to the dress on the mannequin. “First, I know if you’re bribing me with Branden’s cookies that you’re not asking for details for you, but for our brother. Second, he doesn’t get to know any details about the dress, per his fiancee’s direction. And third, do you really have any of his cookies?” Their brother may be a billionaire financial mogul, but the man knew how to bake.
A soft laugh came over the line. “No, I don’t, and yes, I’m spying for Branden. Or at least, trying to. Clearly I failed at my attempts.”
“It’s because you’re such a bad liar,” Leslie teased.
“All the Duke women are great at keeping secrets, but terrible at lying. I guess that’s a good thing?”
Leslie put the phone on Speaker and placed it on one of her messy worktables, then began cleaning up the disaster of her studio as she spoke. “It’s good, I guess, unless…” She thought of what their sister Deena had gone through, culminating in her going to her dangerous father’s house on her own and almost being killed. “Think of Deena. Maybe if she’d let us in earlier, she wouldn’t be in such a difficult emotional place right now, hiding from all of us in Costa Rica.”
“She’s not hiding , Les, she’s healing . And besides, you know she’s there with Dex.”
“For that I’m grateful.”
“Me, too.”
“Do you think Dex is still just her bodyguard?”
“Rach, they are in a beachside paradise, and you know how Deena gets whenever Dex is around. As for Dex, that man cannot keep his eyes off her and it’s not because he’s her bodyguard.”
Leslie picked up a heavy flat fold bolt of light pink charmeuse and placed it back in its place on the wall of fabric, then put a roll of Alenceon lace back in the lace stand. “Deena will be there for Cara’s wedding, right? I know she said she would, but she’s been under so much strain after the whole thing with her father, and…”
She let her words drift off. Because of Branden’s money, their family had experienced more than their fair share of danger. Branden and Cara both had been targeted, as had Deena. Rachel’s girlfriend Roe had been attacked by a madwoman on the orders of Deena’s dad. But now that Deena’s dad was dead and some of the other men who’d threatened the family were in jail. Even so, her entire family still had full security protection.
It had taken Leslie some time to get used to the bodyguards following her around, to keeping her panic button with her, to knowing that whatever she did that wasn’t behind closed doors was known to the men who Alex hired. She glanced up at the security camera that scanned the entirety of her work studio, the same one she’d finally disconnected. But there were still cameras on the exterior of all entrances. Living their lives as if they were in prison wasn’t the point, Alex explained. But their safety was paramount.
“So,” Leslie said, trying to focus on cheerier thoughts. “Any wedding bells in your future?”
“Oops, time for me to go!”
Leslie laughed. “Thought so.”
“Actually, the real reason I called was to see how your date went with Doctor David. Did you enjoy the night?”
Leslie’s stomach clenched at the reminder. She’d forgotten she’d told Rachel she and David were going on a date. “Turns out, David and I don’t see the world eye to eye. I won’t be seeing him again.”
“Really? What happened? He seemed so nice. And cute. And super sexy. Just not a good fit?”
“That thing you said earlier about secrets and lying? David did both.”
“Want to share? I’m not prying, I’m just letting you know I’m here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on or a confidant,” Rachel said gently.
Leslie grabbed the scissors lying on the table and jammed them into the drawer where they belonged. “No, but thank you. I’m grateful. I’m not wounded, just disappointed. And a little pissed off.” And a little relieved.
“I get it. Other fish in the sea, though, right?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “There are other fish in the sea.”
For a long moment, silence met her statement. Then Rachel’s voice came back on the line, soft and sweet. “If you’re thinking of Alex—”
“My turn to go,” Leslie said softly.
Rachel sighed. “I get it. If anything changes and you need someone to talk to, you know I’m always here for you. That’s what sisters do.”
“Love you, Rach. Hugs to Roe.”
She hung up and glanced around her studio, which was once again tidy and neat.
She headed upstairs to make herself a cup of tea, staring at the kettle as she waited for the water to boil. Staring at the flames that came from the gas burner.
Fire.
It fascinated her and she knew why.
Because of what Alex had told her about people using fire to different degrees during sex.
Even now she could recall the way her neighbor’s lover had lit candles one by one. Then proceeded to pick up the candles and—
Her phone pinged. When she picked it up and saw she had a text from Alex, her heart started to pound.
Alex: How’s your day been?
She almost laughed at how disappointed she felt at the innocuous question. At the same time, the casual message landed a significant impact. Because it hinted at something deeper. It was just like the text she’d sent earlier, teasing him about Zumba. It was a testament to their bond, their shared history, their unbreakable friendship. It was an unspoken pledge that no matter what she’d offered, and no matter Alex’s decision, he would always be there, checking in on how her day had gone, caring about her well-being and safety.
Leslie: I’m good, Alex. How about you?
Alex: Distracted.
She smiled. Good. If he’d been thinking about her offer even half as much as she’d been, it would only be fair.
Leslie: Maybe you should just decide and end our agony.
She was only half-kidding.
She saw the three dots dance on the screen as Alex typed his reply.
When they kept dancing, she held her breath.
He was going to give her his answer, she thought.
And yet, it was clearly one he was still struggling with.
Tell me, Alex. I can handle it.
Finally, his text came through. Alex: We need to talk. I’ll be at your house in an hour.