Inner Beast: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 4

  Chapter 8

  Alexis 26 years old.

  I open my eyes and curse about all things that I have done wrong in the last twelve hours. First, I drank way too much, second I mixed to many different kinds of alcohol. Third I fell asleep with my contacts in, I’m also still wearing my clothes from yesterday and I left the curtains open. I’m probably up to eight things now but my head is splitting and its becoming hard to think.

  I push myself up from my bed, attempting to open my crusty eyes. They won’t focus between the eye boogers and the pain from the brightness. I scoot over to the edge of the bed slowly. Afraid of what any fast movement will entail. I stand on shaky legs, my feet sting from dancing in heels all night. I feel for the wall and guide myself over to the bathroom. Fumbling to turn on the shower. My mouth feels like it's coated in a film of plaque. I smell alcohol and I’m not sure if I spilt a drink on myself or if I’ve been sweating it out through the night and now it rests on my skin.

  I slowly wash my hands and carefully remove my contacts. I slink out of my clothes and walk into the shower. The water is hot and feels like its scalding my skin so I turn it down until it almost feels cold. The water feels like its washing away some of my hangover along with the sweat and smell. As I wash my hair the night starts flooding back. The night club, Sammi, her news. The dancing, the grinding, the strangers. I groan aloud and it echos off the walls of the shower so loud that I'm sure the neighbours may have heard. They’re going to start wondering what I'm doing in the shower all the time, or maybe they wouldn’t wonder. Doesn’t take an act of brilliance to figure out why a woman groans when there is running water and she’s single. Very single. I finish washing off and grab my towel, wrapping it around myself as I head into the bedroom. I grab my go to silk robe, throwing it on while I towel dry my hair. I throw it up into a messy bun for now and put on my glasses. I grab my phone off of the bedside table then head to the kitchen to make coffee. I put in the coffee grounds, turn on the maker and lean against the counter checking my phone. Several missed calls, emails and text messages. Messages from the clients, distributors and my employees. I graze through them quickly, nothing looks like its an emergency so I file it in the “Answer later” folder.

  The coffee machine starts rumbling and the scent of coffee envelopes my senses. I instantly feel about eight percent better. Which at this point is better than nothing. As I reach into the cupboard for a coffee cup I hear my door bell ring, odd I think for a series of reasons. Its my day off, I'm not expecting anyone, I didn’t give any names to the front desk for my upcoming visitors and they didn’t call up here to announce any unexpected guests. I wonder if it’s my mother . After all I have been ignoring her calls and I wouldn’t put it past her to just show up.

  I walk over to the door, and swing it open. Instantly regretting not checking the peep hole beforehand.

  It’s not my mother, it's not even a woman.

  So here I stand, naked. In a silk robe. With my glasses on, my hair wet and in a messy bun.

  Hungover.

  In front of Marcus, and by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting this. From the look on his face. Oh god. That look on his face..

  I instantly clamp my thighs shut and reach for the opening of my robe making sure its closed tight so he can’t see anything. I grip the edge of the door. I shiver under his graze knowing my nipples have probably cut holes through the material of my robe. I can visually see Marcus’s eyes gliding over me, his jaw clenching, his breathing deep. I can see his muscles flexing. When his eyes reach my face he relaxes a little.

  “Good morning.” He says in a very raspy breath. So raspy that if I was wearing panties, they would now be drenched.

  “Good morning.” I say sounding like death. My hangover washing back over me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sammi told me you guys had a night on the town, I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would bring you some coffee and carbs.” He says holding up the coffee tray and paper bag he’s been holding.

  I look at him confused. This is such a nice thing for him to do and makes absolutely no sense.

  “Ali?” He says looking at me with concern. “It’s just coffee.”

  I don't know what to say and I continue to feel dumb founded. I look down at his hand.

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask.

  Marcus looks down at the bag then back to me. “Croissants, bagels and lemon danishes. I didn’t know what you would like so I got a little of everything.” He says shrugging. I don’t say anything right away but must cause him to feel uneasy. “Maybe it was a mistake that I came here.” He says.

  “A mistake.” I whisper still staring at him.

  “Here.” Marcus says lifting the tray of coffee towards me and the bag of baked goods. “Take these and I’ll go.”

  I continue to look at him, pondering my next few thoughts carefully. I don’t know if its the hangover that’s making me do it but I back away from the door allowing Marcus room to enter my place.

  “Come in.” I say to him.

  Marcus looking unsure crosses the threshold into my place like he’s a vampire being invited into a house for the first time. Looking at me like I’ve either made the biggest mistake, or I'm an idiot; Or both.

  Once he is in I close the door and walk back into the kitchen. I take the mug I was going to put my coffee in and walk over to Marcus taking one of the coffees out of the tray and pouring it into my cup. I pull up one of the bar stools and sit down.

  Marcus just stands there staring at me.

  “Marcus you can sit down, I promise I won’t bite.”

  I turn my head and look over to him. He is looking down to the floor and he is smirking.

  “Did I say something funny?” I ask.

  “Kinda.” He says. “It’s just you biting is not something I was worried about.”

  “Well what are you worried about then? The barstools can hold your football girth, you can’t hurt my furniture.”

  Marcus looks back up to me, the heat from earlier in his eyes as returned.

  “Are you naked under that robe Ali. It’s taking everything in me not to come across this room and look. Your nipples are pointed and I can see every outline to your body. You sitting in that barstool leaning forward I can see down the centre. It’s like your doing this on purpose. I’m trying not to be a perv. I didn’t come here for the intent of anything sexual between us. I just wanted to check in because..”

  “Because you were in the neighbourhood.” I say finishing his sentence.

  Marcus nods his head.

  I turn slightly in my chair towards him, moving slowly. I stand up from my chair. My coffee cup left on the counter. I walk towards him until I am inches away. I reach up putting both of the palms of my hands on his chest, then lean forward towards his ear. I can feel him tensing as my nipples graze across his skin tight t-shirt. I lift up onto my toes my mouth grazing his ear.

  “Yes Marcus, I am naked under my robe. Just like you were naked in that towel.” I back up from him and drop my hands looking into his eyes.

  “ I think we're even now.” I finish taking a few steps back.

  “Even?” He says. “Even for what.”

  “Oh.” I say. “If you don't know then let me refresh your memory”.

  I turn around and start walking into the hallway towards my room, I look over my shoulder seeing that he is watching every step that I’m taking. I reach up and take my robe off dropping it to the floor. While I strut toward my room. I can hear Marcus groans echo off the walls and I smile to myself. Proud with my sweet sweet revenge. Once in my room I throw on a baggy shirt and a pair of pajama shorts than return to the kitchen where Marcus is now standing against the wall. His back to me, his forehead resting on the wall.

  “You ok?” I ask him.

  Marcus stands back up and turns his head towards me.

  “That was playing dirty Al.” The look on his face looks pained, which
makes me feel even more triumph.

  “This was the game you started. You shouldn’t have started something you couldn’t finish.” I say teasingly.

  “Oh I can finish.” He says. Marcus walks towards me, backing me up into the counter. He plants his hands on either side of me. Gripping the counter top, he leans down looking me in the eyes.

  “I could lift you up right now and plant you on this counter-top. Lean you back and pull these tiny little shorts off. I could spread your legs wide Ali and lick you from end to end. I could nibble your clit and suck on it until you see stars.” His one hand is touching my knee now, slowly rising up my leg. While be continues taking to me. “I could pull your shift off Al and pinch your perky rock hard nipples while I insert my fingers inside you. I could give you orgasm after orgasm with just my mouth and if you still think I can’t finish al, then next I would take you, I would take you right here against this counter top filling you with every inch of me and I wouldn’t stop until I heard you scream. Is this what you want Ali, do you want to see me finish?” His hands are on both of my hips now. His nose rests on my nose, his forehead leaning against mine. His eyes are closed and he hasn’t moved. I’m speechless. I can feel his rock hard length against my stomach and I swear its way bigger than in my fantasies. I take a deep breath and reach up gripping his wrists that sit on my hips pulling them off of me.

  Marcus steps back looking at me, his expression stoic. Like he is waiting to see what will happen next. I walk back over to the stool and sit down grabbing my coffee and taking a sip before grabbing the paper bag.

  “You want anything out of his bag?” I ask

  “No.” He says.

  I grab one of the danish’s and take a huge bite, moaning as the sweet stickiness touches my taste buds. Its probably one of the best danishes I’ve ever eaten. I turn back to Marcus.

  “Well thanks for the coffee and the sweets, I appreciate it. As you can see I am fine, so you can leave now. Thanks for stopping by.”

  Marcus looks at me. Unsure possibly, maybe shocked. But he nods his head and turns around heading for the door.

  When he gets to the door, he opens it. Looks over to me but doesn’t say a work. He walks out the door and it closes with a small “click.” I let out a deep sigh of relief. I didn’t think I would have been able to hold onto my restraint for much longer.

  I’m sure it would have been amazing, maybe epic but I need this money from this job and I cannot have him one timing me and then dumbing me as his interior designer. I know his type, he will do anything to get what he wants and he is only into me for the chase.

  Marcus

  I walk down to the lobby trying to readjust my hard-on several times due to the excoriating pain of it pressing against my pants. I try to regulate my breathing and push that entire encounter out of my brain. I honestly was nearby when Sam called me sicker than a dog, asking for coffee and sweets. She told me what she did last night and with who. I had planned to drop a couple things off for Ali assuming she probably felt just as bad as Sam today. I did not expect what I saw when she opened the door, I did not expect her to strip her clothes and bait me. I was so flustered that I left Sams coffee there and now I have to go back to the bakery to get her stuff.

  All I can think about is the feeling of her skin on my fingers, the scent of apples when I was close to her. The sound of her breathing. The way she felt pressed up against me. If she didn’t stop me I swear I would have done everything I had said to her bedamned to what Sam would think. After all she is one of the main reasons I try to keep things professional between us. I know what it feels like for your sibling to be with your best friend.

  I just don't understand why Ali has always treated me like the enemy. I feel like I never had a chance from the beginning. All I do know is that working together closely is going to be hard and I wonder how long I can continue to hold back from my desires.

  Chapter 9

  Alexis, present day.

  “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.” I sit in my parked car in the driveway. Resting my forehead on the steering wheel, eyes closed. Chanting my mantra over and over again. After Marcus left the house the other day all of my cool resolve that I was show-boating dissipated and I was left feeling wobbly and nauseated. I spent the day lying in bed taking turns between reading a book and binge watching romance series. Later in the day I took time to respond to all of my emails and text messages from work and clients. But, here I am now, three days later, sitting at Marcus’s. Most of the furniture was getting delivered this morning, Tony reached out to me to mention that Marcus was going to be home today and would be available to go over everything as I place all the finishing touches together.

  I take a deep breath and let it out sitting up and looking out the front window to the house. “I can do this.” I say one final time as I open the door and get out of the car. The gravel crunches under my heels as I walk towards the entry to the house. When I get there I hit the door buzzer half expecting a repeat of Marcus meeting me at the door. After all he said last time that he gets alerts when people pass by the gate. I wait several more seconds then hit the door buzzer again. I check the time on my watch and groan. This is utterly ridiculous I told him I would be here at one in the afternoon. Well I told Tony to tell him I would be here. I have been trying to have minimal communication with him and to keep things professional so I have been making Tony out middle man. I know it sounds adolescent of me but it's absolutely necessary.

  I’m aggravated and pissed. I reach into my purse for my phone to call Tony. Just as I find it the front door of the house opens and there stands Marcus smiling. With a shirt on this time and pants, a towel wrapped around his neck. His hair drenched again. What is with this man and answering the door dripping wet with a towel.

  “Hi.” I say pushing my way into the house, still pissed that I was made to wait when we had a specific appointment. Marcus stands out of my way and allows me to charge into the house towards the dining room, closing the door and joining me shortly after.

  “Hi.” He says softly.

  “What do you think of the colour?” I ask him, not looking at him but surveying the room. Getting straight to work and keeping this business orientated.

  “The colour?” He says.

  I scrunch my brows in confusion and turn towards him. “Yah the colour.” I say. “Please tell me you noticed that somethings different in this room.”

  “Yah of course.” He says. “I noticed that it was white before and it's white now. I didn’t think that white was a colour.”

  “It’s not white.” I say rolling my eyes. “How can you not see that this is ivory. It has warmed the space, yet remains bright and cheery.”

  “isn’t ivory just a fancy word for white.” He says next with a smile on his face, mocking me it seems.

  “Ivory is ivory. White is white.” I say turning back to look at the dining room.

  “Well it looks great regardless of what the colour is.” He says. He raises his hand indicating to the pile of boxes against the wall. “I assume this is the stuff for the room.”

  “Yah I was hoping that the crew would be here today to help put it together but they needed to be at another project that’s now been deemed a rush job. So I’ll be putting it together.” I say this as I open my purse digging around and then pull out my purple, monogramed screwdriver.

  “You plan on putting this all together?” He asks.

  I start ripping one of the boxes open. “Is that going to be a problem?” I say. “Am I going to be in the way if I'm in your massive empty house putting furniture together?”

  I can hear Marcus sigh. “Of course not. I didn’t mean it like that. Listen are you alright if I go have a quick shower?” He says

  “Yah, you don't need to be here for this part anyway.” I say.

  Marcus retreats from the room, then shortly after I can hear him go up the stairs. I get busy trying to get this done as soon as possible
. The least amount of time I have to spend in this house the better. If I could have afforded to on board more people to send here to put this furniture together I would have but that’s not in the books yet. I have a handful of guys that do this job and unfortunately I have several projects just finishing up. This appointment with Marcus was in the books and I need the money from this job to pay my employees and my bills so I needed to get this finished today.

  I’m in the middle of putting the second dining room chair together when Marcus enters the room wearing sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt. He walks over to one of the boxes and rips it open then takes a screwdriver out of his pocket and sets it on the floor. I look at him in utter confusion.

  “I don't need your help. You're paying me to do a job and I can get the job done.” I say.

  “I never thought you needed my help, and I might just end up getting in your way but I would like to help. Don't worry you will still be getting paid what we agreed upon, I’m not trying to tack any money off the cost with my manual labour. I just figured you would like the company.”

  “Your company.” I say rather quickly and immediately hate the bitchy tone I’ve taken.

  “If you don't want my help Al then just say so.” He says with sunken brows and a look of utter defeat. It tugs at my heart strings and feel like a terrible person.

  “I’m sorry.” I say. “I just wasn’t expecting you to want to help. Don't you have plans it's a Wednesday night.”

  “Nope, no plans.” He says turning back to the box and pulling out the pieces to another chair.

  “Aren't you football players suppose to be out on the town, acting like ridiculous cave men?”