Chapter 186 186

Chapter 186 186
“Alexis is through there,” Angelo offers.

I nod to him and dart down the hall. It isn’t until I’m in the living room that I realize Angelo and Clara were holding hands.

Alexis is sitting on the couch with her laptop balanced on her knee when I enter. There is an open bag of Twizzlers next to her, and one is dangling from her lips. She looks up and smiles, biting off the end of the Twizzler and chewing as she closes the lid of her computer and sets it aside.

“Hey,” she says, as though she isn’t at all surprised to see me alive. As though she had full confidence that I would keep my promise and come back to her. As though it doesn’t faze her to see me covered in blood.

She unfolds herself from the couch and picks her way through the room until she is in front of me, her small hands resting on my chest.

“It’s not yours, right?” she asks.

I look down at my shirt and hands, stained brown with dried blood. I shake my head. “It’s not mine.”

I need to tell her. I need to tell her what Kevin Lynch confirmed with his last gurgling breath.

“I missed you,” Alexis says, and pops up on her toes to press a soft kiss on my cheek. My heart thuds, and I pull her into my arms.

I need to tell her. But not tonight.

29

Gabriel

The problem with the calm before the storm is that even though you know the storm is coming, the calm still feels good. You still want to relax in it. Revel in it. Enjoy that even just for this moment, the chaos cannot reach you.

I have had a week of this calm since I killed Kevin Lynch. I can tell that something big is brewing. Fuck, I can practically taste it on the wind, see the clouds gathering on the horizon, bloated and gray. But it still feels good not to spend my days in chaos, and to be able to take the time to enjoy some of life’s more subtle pleasures.

Like bringing my woman flowers.

I knock on the door to Alexis’ room, the scent of roses tickling my nose from the bouquet in my hand.

“Come in,” she calls.

I enter. Alexis is sitting at her desk, typing on her laptop. She has been threading together all of her research to write a follow-up article to the one that caused me so much trouble the last time. She worries she will never finish it because, in her mind, the only appropriate ending would be a happy report that purple heroin has been pushed from New York’s streets forever. In the past week, the market has been flooded with the drug, which is partly how I know the worst is still yet to come.

“Hey,” she says without looking up.

“Where’s Harry?”

She jabs her head in the direction of the nursery. “I literally just got him to go to sleep, so don’t start screaming or anything.”

I approach the desk, and Alexis finally looks up from her work. Her face splits into a wide grin when she sees the roses.

“Are those for me?” she asks, closing the lid of her laptop.

“No.” I bring the roses up to my nose and sniff them thoughtfully. “They’re for my other girlfriend. Do you think she’ll like them?”

I can see Alexis’ attention snag on the title of girlfriend. We rarely ever talk about what we are, and almost never broach the subject of what we feel. Girlfriend feels like an extraordinarily weak descriptor for what Alexis is to me.

“You’re a dog.” She snatches the roses out of my hand and cradles them to her chest. “Did you purposefully get me the same kind of roses as the ones you sent when I was living in the apartment?”

I can still remember the delight on Alexis’ face as I watched her on the screen, receiving her flowers, the way it made my stomach flip and I didn’t know why.

“Yes,” I say. “Because as it turns out, I’m not terribly creative.”

She laughs and sets the roses on the desk, walking around it to place her hands on the lapels of my jacket. Alexis senses the oncoming storm just as much as me, but over the past week she has become a more relaxed, joyful version of herself. When she looks up at me now, it is with bright blue eyes that sparkle with mirth and a cheeky tilt to her full lips.

“How can I thank you?” Alexis asks. Her voice has grown husky, full of promise.

Blood instantly starts to gather in my cock. She has that effect on me. I have gone years without indulging in a woman’s touch, but with Alexis, as soon as the thought enters my head I have to have her. She’s mine. And that claim is one I need to stake over and over again.

“Hmm…” I brush my thumb over her cheek. “I can think of a couple ways, though there is a risk it would wake Harry. Perhaps I should just go…”

I pretend to turn away, and Alexis follows. “I can be quiet. Can you?”

I chuckle, lowering my mouth to hers. “I’ll be holding you to that.”

We kiss. It’s a delicate, almost hesitant touch, like two lovers discovering each other for the first time. My cock is insistent that I get Alexis on her back as soon as possible, but I like taking my time with her. I like the way she sighs when I run a hand over her back or the way she clutches onto my shirt desperately when I deepen the kiss.

I guide her back toward the bed. My hands roam over her body, feeling the taut plane of her back, the ample flesh of her ass, the soft curve of her waist. I press her tightly to my body. I love the way she feels against me, the way her tits flatten against my chest. I love the jut of her hip bones and the way she fits so neatly within my arms that it’s like she was made for me.

I pull away Alexis’ shirt and kiss down her shoulder as I loosen her bra. She moans softly, and the sound sends wildfire blasting through my body—but that’s not the game we’re playing.

“Shh,” I warn, nipping her throat. “I want you completely quiet.”

She nods, and her hand slides between us to land on my impatient bulge. A quiver goes through me. Now I’m the one struggling to stay silent.

I push her back onto the bed. I love the way her tits jiggle. I am unable to resist the urge to lean over and suck one pink-tipped nipple into my mouth. Alexis’s fingers claw into my scalp, and I can tell she’s trying very hard not to make any noise.