Chapter 137

Because it was Tyler, and if she believed nothing else, she believed in him. She always had—but maybe this wasn’t the right time to dig into her long friendship with a man who’d apparently had all of this inside him all the while.

She pushed her way into the bathroom. It was small, but still managed to seem infinitely luxurious the way everything else did in this place. There was only one stall, but it was behind its own full door and it was empty when she checked.

There was dim, inviting light from a sconce on the wall. The sink was ornate, with fluffy towels on the counter and a selection of not only soaps and lotions, but a variety of toiletries. Including condoms.

And it was only when she could hear the way she was panting—actually panting—that she realized there was no music piped in. It was hushed and quiet here.

“There will be no hiding,” she whispered, to test it. And her own voice seemed unduly loud.

She felt drunk, she realized then. That was different than shakiness, and better, in a way. It made her feel less fragile, and more liquid.

Lexi stared at herself in the mirror that took up the whole of the wall over the sink, and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that Tyler knew it was right there. And more, that she would be doing exactly this as she decided whether or not to do what he’d asked.

And just as she found him difficult to recognize tonight, she looked like a different version of herself, too. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were dilated. Her hair was full and wavier than usual, because his hands had been in it. Her mouth felt overly sensitive, and her lips were more swollen than before. He’d done that, too.

And the Lady Alexia Graham she had always been would never do something like this. She would never so much as consider it. Lady Alexia Graham was unfailingly polite, scrupulously well mannered, and she did not create scenes. Ever. She did volunteer charity work. She facilitated conversations between the kinds of businessmen who frequented clubs like this, and made them run smoother. She was a credit to her bloodline, as her father liked to tell his friends.

But Lady Alexia Graham was the one who was going to dutifully marry Victor and live out the rest of her glacially polite days in precisely the manner her father wanted. Quiet gentility, companionship without emotion, like well-appointed rooms in silent houses. It would be a very pretty grave she was walking into. She knew that.

Tonight, she was only a woman. And Tyler had already done things to her that didn’t make sense, that she couldn’t even begin to process, and that had taught her that she was more alive and more hungry than she’d ever dreamed possible. And she wanted to take this challenge, not because she thought that she wouldn’t like the things he wanted to do to her. But because she wanted him to do them. Now.

She pulled off the soft shirt she wore that managed somehow to look a lot fancier that it was. Then she shrugged out of the tighter tank she’d worn beneath it, that kept her breasts in place without too much fuss. She sighed a little as she pulled it up and over her head, because the fabric dragged against her nipples and it was like lightning stormed through her in response. And it turned out her nipples had a direct line to her clit, and she couldn’t tell the difference, anymore, between what hurt and what might just make her come again.

The bathroom floor was covered in a thick, gorgeous rug, so she kicked off her shoes, then stripped herself of her jeans. Remembering all the while that he’d done it once tonight already. And he’d already ripped her panties off, so that was it, she was naked.

And the sheer illicitness of it, to stand in a bathroom, of all places—naked, in public, when anyone could walk in— Lexi had to steady herself with a hand on the counter. She stepped back into her shoes, carefully because she kept shivering, and moved to the sink, as ordered. As ordered.

The words seemed to take on weight and heft, and she was glad she was bending over because she could prop herself up. And maybe not topple over, that way. The heels made her hips hitch up higher, leaving her angled toward the door to the hall that was directly behind her. Whoever walked in —and God help her, it could be anyone—would see her spread out before them.

Her ass and her pussy were on full display, and there was nothing she could do about that. There was no hiding it, or pretending for a moment she wasn’t doing exactly what she was doing.

The heat inside her leaped into a bright flame, and burned. Hot. Long.

Lexi dropped her head, letting it droop down toward her elbows. Her hair fell all around her. She shut her eyes.

And then she waited. And she was shivering, though she wasn’t cold. She could feel the air all around her, and she had never been naked in a public place before—because of course she hadn’t. And anyone could walk in. And even if the only person who did walk in was Tyler, that was its own problem, surely, because what did he plan to do—

The door swung open and a flash of ice cascaded over her, dousing her with a thousand pinpricks of pure fear.

And then in the next moment, the stunning heat of shame.

Lexi was frozen. There was no sound. She heard the door swing shut, and it had to be him. Surely it needed to be him, because anyone else would react to the sight of her. A stranger would make some kind of a sound, some kind of embarrassed cough or laugh— But there was nothing but silence.

And her breathing was beginning to sound high-pitched and labored. She couldn’t tell if she was hot or cold, but she was sweating either way. Her toes were curling up in her shoes, which was making her hips lift higher, and if it wasn’t him, would whoever it was think that it was an invitation— Of course they would think it was an invitation—