Page 11 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Again, Alex ignored her, keeping his gaze on Leslie’s profile as she took in the act on stage. He didn’t miss the way she leaned forward and her lips parted. He imagined her heartbeat flickering in the vein in her throat. She was aroused. Intrigued and turned on.

Except, it seemed, when her date talked to her.

Then any hint of energy in her face seemed to flitter away.

And that gave Alex way too much satisfaction.

He should turn away. Focus on the blonde. Face the opposite direction. Or get the hell out of the place. He should let Leslie have her private time here.

But he couldn’t.

Couldn’t leave.

Couldn’t stop watching.

Couldn’t walk away.

Not from Leslie. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t walk away from Leslie.

The bartender came over and Alex handed him the cracked glass. Then Alex ordered himself and the blonde another round. “Put it on my tab,” he told the bartender.

“Thank you,” the blonde said, simpering at him. “Want to take our drinks to go?”

He studied her then said, not unkindly, “Thanks for your interest, but we’re not fucking tonight. We’re not doing anything tonight.”

“Are you sure?” the blonde began as Leslie’s date tugged her out of her seat and began leading her across the room, following a waitress and heading toward an open table at the front of the stage.

Alex traced the curves of Leslie’s body with his eyes. For someone so petite, she had lean and long legs, legs that he’d so often imagined wrapped around his waist, just like he’d imagined her thighs squeezing the sides of his face as he fucked her with his mouth.

Suddenly, Leslie stopped moving and Alex held his breath.

Turn around, he silently urged her. Look at me.

And as if they were in total sync, Leslie, already attuned to his need to command her and her need to submit, turned and faced him.

He couldn’t hear her gasp, but he knew it was the sound she made. Her eyes widened and her face flushed, and he tracked that flush as it spread down her throat and to her chest.

The bored look she’d worn when talking with her date was gone, and in its place was pure desire.

That’s right, baby, he thought. I’m here, and there’s no fucking way you’re staying in this club another minute when you’re not with me, whether it’s standing by my side, having a drink with me, or on your fucking knees.

And that fucker you’re with is going straight to hell.

At least, that’s what he thought.

But then he remembered who he was and who she was and why he’d so adamantly insisted that they remain friends and nothing more.

For a moment, he didn’t think he could do it – walk away from Leslie yet again. But he forced himself to call up the memory of another woman’s face. Both when he’d met her and when she’d been ripped away from this world. And that was enough to strengthen his resolve.

He turned back to the blonde. “Why don’t we take our drinks to go, after all.”

He’d dismissed her.

One moment Alex had been looking at Leslie as if he wanted to eat her alive, then at David, his expression nothing short of murderous, and then the next moment his expression had suddenly flattened and grew dull. At some point, it was as if he wasn’t even seeing Leslie anymore, but was lost in time, in another place altogether. Then he’d turned to the blonde and said something to her before they’d both stood and wandered out of her view.

Feeling like her chest had been hollowed out where her heart used to be, Leslie just continued to stand there.

He’s going with her. He’s going to have sex with another woman even though he knows I saw them. And yet I still want him.

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