I throw my third sexy dress on the bed and slump down in a deflated heap, annoyed with myself that I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. Prettying myself up for him and stressing over how to dress and what to wear like some sad little teenage idiot on a first date. I can’t believe myself sometimes.

He texted me and told me to be ready for six and to dress casually. Whatever that means. Ironic really, as that was my original plan; to show a lack of effort and now, here I am with a bed full of dresses and he is the one telling me to dress down.

I don’t know if he means casual pretty for somewhere like his Italian restaurant or if he means jeans and sweater casual. I’m not asking him because then he will think I’m keen for tonight and I’m definitely not. This is my first stage of observing and analysing him. Spend time, suss him out and look for all the little acts and niggles that cement whether this is genuine.

I need to be sure I’m not being played, once and for all. Tonight will tell me that, and then maybe if I can suss it out, it will make the decision a whole lot easier.

That’s about as far as I have got with my plans, anyway. Play along, be nice, rile him occasionally, and try to figure him out. Shouldn’t be too hard to tell if it’s fake with some well-placed button pushes to see if his mean side is sleeping or just hiding from me. Alexi can act demure and charming all he wants, but the proof of the pudding and all that is when I make him lose his temper with me. It’s easy to poke that bear—disobedience or just flout the ownership buttons and boom. We have ourselves an Alexi meltdown and immediate sadistic appearance with that temper he struggles to control.

A necessary evil to see how different he really can be. If I have to endure being punished to see him for what he really is then at least I’ll know what my future would be like. I can run and never look back, with no doubt that I was saving myself from a lot of heartache.

I pull on another figure-hugging dress and glance at my clock, cursing myself that it’s almost six and he will show up at any minute. Picking a long jumper dress over skinny jeans, to look like I made zero effort, I re-brush my hair back into its sleek ponytail and turn it into a messy bun. I’m going for the ‘I just threw this on and forgot we had plans’ kind of look, finished with a scarf and flats.

Not my normal ensemble on any given day, but this is not any normal day. And I won’t admit I have been fussing with my appearance for almost two hours, driving myself insane with nerves and indecision.

I touch up my neutral makeup and apply a lip gloss rather than my trademark red lip and scrutinise myself a little too closely. Obsessing, and I know I’m doing it because my nerves are on high alert and I feel ridiculously uncertain.

I look young, pretty girl, almost college student. Not sure I like the look but it’s definitely not screaming seduction of any sort, and I think at the back of my mind, that’s what I was aiming for in reality. I don’t look like I normally do and part of me wants to see if it makes a difference to him. Does a non-sexy and slutty Camilla still make him want to nail me?

Sex is a NO. It’s the one area where I’m not willing to leave myself vulnerable again. Yesterday was stupid and if he truly wants something between us, he will accept I’m taking it off the table, effective immediately. No end date in sight for the time being either. I can make do with BOB should I get horny, and well, I already know he hits the spot every time. You can’t beat a battery-operated boyfriend in times of need.

I walk out of my room, adjusting my jumper as he comes strolling in, right on time, looking unusually happy and bright and smiling my way. Alexi has gone full-on casual and I’m bitterly disappointed that he won’t blink twice at my attire. He’s in grey washed jeans and a tight blue T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of leather boots. Completely casual and now I’m the one annoyed he didn’t make more effort. He doesn’t even look like he shaved and is sporting stubble on that normally clean-shaven face.

I have hit an alternate dimension.

It’s more Gino’s style than Alexi’s. If it wasn’t for that dragon tattoo peeking out at his collar and those grey husky eyes looking my way, I would swear the wrong twin was up here.

“You look cute.” He smiles at me as he bypasses and goes straight into his room without any appraisal. I swear it’s three words no woman ever wants to hear from the mouth of the man she’s dating.

What the fuck is cute when it comes to men?

Puppies are cute! Kid sisters are CUTE!

Women you want to bang senseless are never CUTE!

What the hell is with me? I seem to have more moods than a psycho with PMS and need to get a grip. I dressed down to annoy him, then get pissed because he did too, and now I’m getting hormonal and sulky because he called me cute. I swear I need a Xanax or something to level my emotions out.

If this is what a love confession from Alexi does to you, then maybe I should feign a headache and go to bed. I can feel disaster brewing with how weird I’m being and should really admit defeat before tonight ends in tears.

I thought him being ‘off’ would be my biggest hurdle, but it looks like this is all on me.

He reappears carrying a set of keys in one hand and a messenger bag in the other and I look him up and down quizzically. Student chic seems to be catching and I’m not sure I like it on him.

“You’ll need a warm jacket; we’re taking my bike.” He pulls his bag over his head, still not making any real attempt at checking me out and zips up his jacket while nodding towards my room, and I stare at him.

flutter and die. Fear clearly evident on my face with widening eyes and a startled expression. I hope to God he doesn’t mean one

and throws me that irritating wink before turning me and giving me a gentle shove to my room, dismissing the look of horror on my face and being

maybe take your hair down, the helmet will only

A cold wash of weakness overcoming me.

crash.” The tone of his voice is way too serious and I flash back

I’m frozen to the spot, gawping like a fool, skin turning cold with lack of blood that just pulls

would end up killing you, Cam. Now move.” He shoves me again and this time I trip over my doorway and half jog inside to grab whatever coat seems to have the most padding. Clumsy but distracted and thinking only of skidding along the road to certain death and leaving the imprint of my face on the concrete. I try to shake that visual out of my head, but my hands are already clammy and my

just seems like a stupid thing to do on purpose, and I cannot understand what would possess anyone to

I stammer as I come back out, sounding like a total wimp, voice trembling lightly, pulling on my own leather jacket that’s a lot longer than his. Praying it covers all vital

ignores the obvious fear in my voice, catches me by the hand firmly and pulls me with him. Not waiting to check if hand holding is something we are doing and yanking me like a disobedient younger sibling who won’t do as they are told. Seems he thinks it is as he laces his fingers through mine securely so I can’t escape him,

anything.” I stop, getting my arm tugged with my rapid pause and he yanks me a little more firmly with him, so I yelp

Arsehole.

warm smile thrown back at me and I’m once again hauled behind him, rather aggressively for a guy attempting charm and adoration. I try to wriggle my hand free, but he holds on tighter and flashes me that look of his that says, ‘keep trying, I’m not letting go’. Hints of that controlling prick lurking under the friendly persona, and I narrow my eyes and put one black cross on my mental list for tonight. He earns a few of those on this ‘date’ and

Wanker.

‘gentle’ off the list too then. Seems that part is not long lasting. Being manhandled like a piece of meat is not my idea of romantic wooing. He has a lot to learn about schmoozing me into a better mood

button. It’s so rapid I cannot object nor take part; a grazing of lips much like the one in the kitchen last night, and he gets

kissing me isn’t really the done thing when we aren’t actually a thing.” I point out blandly. Another black cross on my mental list

I had my dick inside you, so I’m guessing it’s not really a step too far to do it.” I get that cheeky arrogant smirk and I slap him in the

crude and not very gentlemanly. You’re a prick and not doing a great job of making me want to date you.” I huff and get even more annoyed when that smirk turns into a wider

kissing, within reason. As for wanting to date me … looks like you’re here and coming with me, so I have no

Arghh, PRICK!

We had a no touching rule, remember? And it’s hard not to go out with you

dick, inside you yesterday. I think that pretty much neutralises that arrangement.” He shrugs again,

your idea of wooing me?

be making myself transparent and as honest as I can for you. It would be fake, and I thought the idea was to gain your trust by letting you in. No more masks.

down my outfit although no visible facial expressions to tell

and get an eye to the ceiling in a

don’t complain when I have to beat people to level myself out a little. I can’t do nice without balancing it with something violent.” He sounds

a sweat.” I smile at that, really seeing the funny in those words coming out of that mouth. Who

and it breaks me unexpectedly. It pulls a genuine hearty giggle out of me, and I realise our weird conversation has completely lightened my mood with how utterly ridiculous it is. I never thought this would be a topic I would ever have with him or that he could be this funny, and I’m not sure if he meant to be. He has my sense of humour; dry and sarcastic with a completely serious tone. I think I just fell in love with him all over again. Definitely a side to him I may have

you calling me anything other than Sir.” That cheeky sideways glance and I open my mouth in outrage, immediately over the slight adoration I was teetering

refer to you as my master.” I cross my arms moodily over my bust, finally losing his hand in mine and it only seems to propel him to

bodily by my upper arm and plants a kiss on

against the wall so I’m utterly powerless to him and

and I allow him to not only kiss me into oblivion, but I kiss him back. Tongues warmly sliding together, lips moulded as we find our rhythm. Churning my

own way up the front of his jacket and slide around his strong neck. Savouring the feel of that hard, hot body that moulds to my curves in all the right ways. His knee slides between both of mine and he pushes himself against me in a very sexual way that leaves no room for misunderstanding. His thigh wedged high between mine has the

as a kisser he’s a bloody demon, gets inside of every part of you while

shoulder, grinning wickedly, like the cat who got the cream. He knew what he was doing, and he is high fiving himself mentally that he got me how he wanted and submissive on

curse him under

only assume we are on the ground floor and in

out as soon as I’m released. We pass two security, dressed all in formal black, and a very amused looking Jackson who beams at me widely

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