Chapter 28 In bed
RORY POV
It was almost midnight when Alexander came home.
Almost all the staff had retired for the day by then except the armed guards stationed around the building. I still hadn’t gotten used to them.
I also didn't understand why he needed so much security-bulky, dangerous men who looked like they were waiting for a war to start. I wondered who he had pissed off to turn his home into a fortress.
I was beginning to think the answer to that question was something I wasn’t ready for.
I saw him come through the door and immediately pressed myself into the corner of the hallway. I did not want to be anywhere near this man tonight. His presence did something to me that I resented completely, something that bypassed every rational thought I had and went straight to the parts of me I was trying to keep under control.
I watched him go into Liam’s room.
I stayed in my corner and waited.
I stayed pressed against the wall until I heard him leave Liam's room. I peeped out, watching his retreating back, and finally let out a breath.
I felt like a thief in my own home, well...not really my home, hiding in the dark to avoid my own husband.
I moved to bolt for my bedroom, giving a silent thanks to God that l'd escaped him for one more night. But my luck ran out when I rounded the corner and slammed straight into a hard chest. A very hard one.
I winced, the impact vibrated through my teeth. I didn't need to look up to know who it was, the scent of his expensive, masculine cologne filled my lungs before I could even blink.
"Why are you hiding from me?"
Of course he knew. He always knew.
"I wasn't hiding. I was... I was just—" | trailed off. I couldn't think of a single lie that would survive the intensity of his presence.
I raised my head, meeting those icy blue eyes. They had a pull on me, a magnetic force that made me feel like I was drowning and didn't want to be saved.
"Today is Thursday."
His voice was smooth, chilled silk. Even when he was threatening my very existence, it made a traitorous tingle start in the pit of my stomach.
"Have you forgotten what I told you?" He raised a brow, looking down at me like I was a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.
I hadn’t forgotten. That was precisely why I had been hiding in corners for the past three hours.
I was supposed to be "warming his bed."
I shook my head. “I didn’t,” I said, finding sudden fascination in my nails.
Because you are the devil and I have a basic instinct for self preservation. I thought. But I wasn't suicidal enough to say it.
He looked me up and down, his gaze heavy.
“Go and change,” he said. “The maids laid out what you’re wearing tonight. It should be on the bed.” He leaned slightly closer. “And don’t make me come looking for you before you bring that ass to my room.”
He walked away.
I fled. In my dressing room, I found the "Thursday" attire the maids had laid out. It was a black lace-trimmed silk slip. The chest was dangerously exposed, and the hem barely skimmed the bottom of my ass. When I checked myself in the mirror I felt naked. I telt targeted.
When I entered his suite, the room was exactly as I expected. The interior was dark, moody, and screamed of cold, calculated luxury. It was just like his soul.
He wasn't in the main area when I arrived. I was about to crawl under the covers when I felt the air shift behind me. He emerged from the dressing area, not even acknowledging my presence. His back was turned to me as he began to unbutton his shirt.
I couldn't look away. My mouth literally watered as I watched the fabric fall, revealing a broad, muscled back that looked like it had been carved from granite. He was so incredibly sexy it was painful. I wondered what his gym routine was-Steve could definitely use some tips.
A small gasp escaped me when he let his trousers fall to the floor, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers. He was almost entirely naked. How was I supposed to resist this?
He turned around without warning, catching me ogling him. I darted my eyes away, but I was too late. The look he gave me was one of pure, mocking superiority. He knew exactly what I was doing.
He strolled toward the bed with a predatory grace. I let my eyes wander again, to his his carved thighs, the line of his hips... I almost strained my neck trying to get a glimpse of his manhood through the fabric.
Stop it, Rory. That's unladylike. But who cared about manners when a man looked that good?
I'm sure even my grandma wouldn't have been able to resist, God bless her soul.
"Grab a condom from the stand and spread yourselt on the bed."
My brain did a full shortcut.
Condom? Oh fucking Christ. He wanted to actually sleep with me. Like have sex with me. I had convinced myself I was only going to sleep in his bed. Warm it with my body heat. That was what warming the bed meant surely.
As if reading my mind, he leaned back against the headboard, his eyes dark. "What were you expecting when I said you'd be warming my bed every Thursday? That you'd read me a bedtime story?"
The mockery stung. We were married. Of course he was going to touch me.
“Please,” I said.
He raised a brow.
“Please don’t,” I said. I got the words out clearly despite my heart trying to exit my chest. “I’m not ready. Please. Not tonight.”
I braced myself for him to get angry, to snap at me, or to remind me of the papers l'd signed.
But he didn't. He just watched me for a long beat, his expression remained unreadable.
"Fine," he said, the word surprised me so much I almost fell over. "Come here and sleep."
I hesitated, wondering if it was a trap. What if he waited until I was asleep to take me?? But I didn't have a choice. I slid under the heavy silk covers, turning my back to him and huddling at the very edge of the mattress.
I expected silence. I expected the dark weight of his presence to crush the air out of the room. Instead, I heard his voice, low and conversational.
"How was your day, Aurora?"