Not even an hour later, Axel was at my door.
I didn't remember ever giving him my apartment number, the floor, any of the details—but he must have had all the information from Brett. He'd only dropped me off when we'd landed in L.A. from St. Tropez, and I'd never brought him upstairs.
And my apartment...was a mess. I'd spent the past hour pacing, ripping my hair out—there were actual dark burgundy hairs strewn all over the couch—freaking out over Estelle's confession. Over Estelle's behavior. Over what Estelle had done.
So as I peered through the peephole to find Axel standing in my hallway, hands in his pockets, a disheveled air to him, yet dapper and delicious as ever, I froze. I panicked.
No way could I let him in. One, there was clutter all over the place; two, we'd be alone. And us being alone went against everything I'd more or less promised Estelle an hour ago.
"Axel?" I said through the door, raising my voice and hating how it shook. "What are you doing here?"
He was supposed to be swamped at work. How could he have raced across town to see me? Why?
"Damage control," he said, leaning nearer, eyebrows scrunching. "Your text was urgent, no?"
Fuck. I grimaced as I reached for the doorknob, fifteen screams in my head telling me to send him away. To tell him it was fine, I was fine, everything was fine.
But nothing was fine, and we both knew that. Damage control was needed, and he'd come all this way to help me. Denying him now...
I pulled the door open, but I apparently hadn't locked it after Estelle left.
"Hey," I said, hardly leaving enough space between the frame and the door to show my face. "Now isn't a good time."
"Is she still in there?" His timbre grew deeper, laced with anger. A whiff of his cologne hit me, and it took all my energy to not grab him and yank him closer to bury my nose in his jacket.
"No," I sighed, "she left right before I texted you. But it's..."
"You got someone else in there?" He arched an eyebrow, and I could have sworn I detected a hint of curious jealousy in his voice.
"No, of course not."
I pushed the door a little farther open. Sometime during my panic attack, I changed into my outfit for the meeting with the hotel manager—a ruffled blouse and a black pencil skirt. For some reason, I'd gotten the need to dress up to meet this guy. Axel had told me he was a judgmental jerk sometimes, and I'd need to be over-the-top presentable to impress him.
I wasn't sure why I needed to impress the hotel manager, when Axel, the owner, was the one making all the decisions. But I'd been too distraught by Axel's texts and instructions that I hadn't asked about it.
He eyed my legs, my bare feet, then his gaze zipped up to mine. "Okay, so your last excuse will be that your place is messy, I presume?"
I scowled at him. "It is messy." I gripped the door, bracing for him to shove into it to allow himself in. "And tiny. So tiny. It's an embarrassment."
It was his turn to scowl as he folded his arms. He wore a suit of light gray, all buttoned up and professional. His slacks were tight, wrapping around his godly silhouette and reminding me how much I enjoyed what was underneath. "You think I care about that?"
"Axel—"
"—I won't force myself in, but we need to talk about this. So it's either out here," he gestured at the vacant corridor, "or safe and sound inside your apartment."
Safe, ha. More dangerous in here, isn't it?
But I didn't need my nosy neighbors to overhear us.
I rolled my eyes and moved out of the way. "Fine. Come in."
I guided him to the sofa—not that it'd be complicated to find it with how small my studio was. Door, couch, kitchen to one side, bedroom to the other, a minuscule bathroom across from it. Compared to his luxurious penthouse, this was a closet.
He lowered onto the cushions, and like his sister, he showed no repulsion whatsoever towards my far-from-fancy decor and furniture.
"So." He clasped his hands around one knee as he brought one leg over the other. "Tell me everything."
"Well," I huffed, falling into the chair I'd sat in to talk to Estelle, "she knows. She full-on confirmed it to my face."
"Yes, you said that." He cocked his head. "But how does she know?"
"She..." I gulped, realizing that by telling him all this, I was surely pitting him against his sister. He'd be pissed at her, which might cause a rift between them, which might put me in more trouble. "She's been watching us."
"Watching us?" His brows shot up. "How? She's spying? She—" He slumped in his seat and dragged a hand down his face. "Right, you mentioned she hired a P.I.?"
Fuck. I gulped again and nodded. "Since before St. Tropez."
"Before?" The rigid cords in his neck stood out, veins pumping furiously under his skin. "Shit. She really knows all of it, then."
"Down to the fact that we fucked on the couch, and then before the engagement party, we fooled around in the guest bedroom. All of it."
I pressed my knees together and prayed that they'd stop shaking. Whenever Axel was near, I wanted to melt. But here, in my space, I wanted to hide. I wanted to toss everything I owned because I'd rather show him a bare room than all my cheap shit.
"So, my assistant, huh?" He shook his head slowly, lips pinched. "He signed NDAs, you know. This kind of shit—" He scoffed, and the smile that spread over his lips wasn't a pleasant one. "Motherfucker."
I gasped; not that Axel didn't curse, but he'd never cursed like that, with such venom in the word. "Yikes."
"Yeah, yikes." He ruffled his fingers through his dark ginger curls, and a scent of fresh mint and berries wafted over to me. "He's getting fired as soon as I get home."
I didn't want to make anyone lose their job, but this guy deserved it. Working in tandem with Estelle's private investigator? The nerve.
"And Estelle?" I bent and unbent my fingers. "Is she...uh...in trouble?"
Axel frowned. "For having caught us? No, I can't...I mean, it'd be hypocritical to scold her, wouldn't it?"
I nodded. This chair, that I'd always found so comfortable, was making my skin itch. "And...are you going to say anything to her? The whole private investigator thing...it's a bit much, no? An invasion of privacy?"
He flinched, then leaned back into the couch cushions. "Fuck, it is. But she's my sister. Do I say anything?" He was silent, then anchored his gaze on me, waiting. "What do you think?"
I balked at him. "You're asking my opinion? She's your sister." I lifted my shoulders. "I'm still in shock that someone knows, and knows this much. It's scary. If she stuck a P.I. on us, who's to say Brent won't do the same? It's more up his alley than hers, for sure."
"Did she mention whether she was going to talk to me?" He narrowed his eyes, his legs jittering. He was nervous about all this, too, and somehow that made me feel a smidgen better.
He should feel bad. He should be remorseful. We were in this chaos because of him, after all. Because he was so charming, so irresistible, and never listened when I told him we couldn't sleep together anymore. Because his body enticed mine, made me forget common sense, made me lose track of what was most important.
True, I didn't stop my body from craving him. But it was easier to pin it all on him.
"She didn't." I scrunched my nose. "And actually, I worry that she didn't want me to tell you about it at all."
"Don't worry." He sat up. "I won't tell her I know, not unless she comes to me."
"And," I swallowed loudly, the saliva like spikes down my throat, "what will you say if she does? What will you...do?"
"I'm not firing you, Vivienne." His eyes were solid as they fixed on mine. His body language was reserved, but nothing in his voice made me think he was lying. "This is all...a big misunderstanding, yeah? Improper communication and planning."
"A misunderstanding?" My timbre took a higher pitch than normal.
"I can't believe her," he said, standing up and ignoring my question. "I mean, I get it, I know why she did it." He proceeded to pace back and forth in front of the sofa, hands bunching and unbunching at his sides. "But I should have prepared us for this."
I glared at him, though he wasn't paying me any attention. "Prepared us for discovery? How about not seducing me all the time, hm?"
Again, he ignored me, not offering a hint that he was listening to a word I said. "It's her style to do this; to try to protect everyone. So she thinks she's looking out for me, that I can't vet my own sexual partners. For fucks' sake, Estelle," he grumbled, "I'm a grown man. I'm her big brother." When he turned to me, his cheeks were red, his neck even more rigid than before.
He was mad. I was mad. Estelle had sprung something catastrophic on us, and it was about to change our entire dynamic. He had to quit enticing me now; he'd cease manifesting that tantalizing effect he had on me, wouldn't he? He had to.
To my surprise, he removed his jacket, tossed it on the cluttered coffee table, and fell back onto the sofa as he rolled up his sleeves.
He wasn't ceasing anything...because he wasn't in control of the allure he had, the ways he turned me on by simply existing.
Seeing those arms bulging through his shirt, the buttons I wanted to unfasten, and his pants that poorly covered up the forms of his crotch—God, I craved him. Sweat poured down my back and my heart raced in terror.
We'd been discovered—but I still wanted him.
"I'm fucked, aren't I?" I toppled backwards into my chair and lifted my chin, my gaze on the ceiling.
"You're fucked?" I couldn't see him but heard the incredulity in his tone.
"My job." I raised my chin and saw him gawking at me. "I'm going to lose it. Because you and I can't stop, and Estelle said she wouldn't tell, but if she knows we're still at it, she'll have no choice—"
He lurched forward too fast for me to move away, and crouched before me, in a strangely similar way to how his sister had an hour ago.
But in his eyes, there was no pity or disdain; there was caring, lust, a fiery flicker of warmth that he wished to infuse in me. Serenity despite the fear; sensuality despite the forbidden aspect of it all.
"She won't tell on you, I swear it. She might be sneaky and a tad troublesome, but she wouldn't stoop that low."
"That's what she said to me," I tried to angle out of reach, "but I don't...I don't trust her."
"You trust me, right?" His chest moved up and down as if his heart were thundering inside. "Trust me when I tell you she wouldn't dare."
I wanted to shrivel in relief, but by doing so, I'd be letting my guard down. And letting my guard down in front of Axel always equaled sex.
Not here. Not now. And certainly not after Estelle's veiled warning.
"We...need to be more careful," he said, ruffling his curls.
Then I did the one thing that'd make this worse for us—I poked him. I touched him. Initiating physical contact with Axel Levine was dangerous, and I'd done it.
Fuck.
"You need to be more careful," I growled, struggling to keep my gaze on him. He was fire, he was hot, and he was at the right level to gently tear my legs apart and squeeze between them.
It was too reminiscent of the other night, in the guest bathroom, and my body tensed at the thought. Still, I didn't try to escape him.
"Me?" That fake look of innocence took my breath away.
"Yes, you." How I yearned to get up, to run; but one more move and he'd grab me, I could tell. And I wouldn't stop him. "You're the one always coming to me, fucking me with your eyes, your fingers, your tongue, your godly cock, dammit!" I slapped a hand to my mouth after spilling all my thoughts in one stupid, uncontrollable whirlwind.
Axel, of course, had an amused look on his face. A grin, even; though it was tiny and barely forming. "Godly cock, hm?"
"Enough!" I poked him again, deeper this time, getting a touch of his chiseled chest—too much of a touch. I cringed. "I can't get away from you, and it's a problem!"
"Is it?" He didn't get closer, but it felt like the room was shoving us together. Like a breeze blew in circles around us, pushing us into one another. "And do you want to get away from me?"
I bit my tongue, scolding myself on the inside. I couldn't lie to him.
"No." I dug my nails into my palms. "No, Axel, I don't want to get away from you. I can't."
He batted his lashes, and it was all I could do to not jerk forward and kiss him. The balls of this guy, the way he lured me in with a wink and a smile and a quick stroke of his dick.
"And?" He licked his lips, and I noticed his gaze wandering to my decolleté.
Shit.
"And?" I ground my teeth together, begging myself internally to stop. "And I'm fucking falling for you and there's nothing I can do about it, and your sister knows it and is having me tailed, and—"
I blocked myself before I blurted out how there was even more drama to consider, with Olivia being involved in the wedding and circling me in anticipation of an attack, spoiling me with her dazzling looks and trying to draw me back in. I hated it. I hated her. But she was there, in my thoughts, warring for priority with Axel.
I expected him to grimace, to get up, to walk away, shamed at my admission. But instead, he took my hand and lifted me off the chair. He took my spot, then lowered me onto him, my back against his chest, his chin on my shoulder.
"Hmm," he said, and I sensed his fingers tiptoeing along my thigh, toward my knee. "I can see why that might be a problem."
"Axel?" I didn't resist him, but tensed up at his touch, at the lack of restraint. The appropriate reaction would be to get up, but I...couldn't. I wouldn't.
Once his fingers reached my knee, they backtracked, going under the hem of my skirt. "Yes?"
"What..." I trembled when I realized what he was planning. "What are you doing?" I finished, in a tremulous whisper.
When he arrived at the junction of my thigh, he lightly spread my legs apart. I convulsed as my slit opened, parted, and I felt how wet I already was.
Fuck.
"Axel?"
He got to my underwear, and slipped it aside, dipping his finger straight into my moisture. "Hmm? Ah." He shivered behind me, underneath me. "Look at you. All ready for me."
"Axel," I breathed, succumbing to him too fast, too soon. His finger traced a line right down the middle of my arousal, and my legs began to shake. Something pulsated beneath me—his cock, grazing my ass. I shuddered. "Goddamn you."
"This," he flicked at my clit and I let out a sharp gasp, "always relaxes you, yeah?"
A few more flicks, and I grasped the sides of his legs for balance. My mind went blank, my eyesight blurred, and nothing mattered anymore.
"You can't fix everything with sex, Axel," I moaned, as he picked up the pace, diving into my center.
His other hand cupped my breast, his thumb rubbing over my nipple. "Oh, yeah?" He then took hold of my chin and turned me to meet his gaze, to see the intense arousal within, awaiting me. "Watch me try."
☼☼☼