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“Open your legs, touch yourself, and tell me you aren’t wet.”
“Stop!” He looked momentarily stunned at my outburst. “I barely know you, Alfie, and I don’t like being spoken to likeI’m some common whore you’re about to finger-fuck under the dinner table.” I glared at him, waiting for an apology I knew I wasn’t going to get. He didn’t look concerned that I was upset, merely curious. With a disgusted sigh, I threw down my ruined napkin and shoved my chair back.
“I’m going home. This was a mistake.” I was done with this night. I’d given him a shot and no one could say that I hadn’t tried.
I struggled not to meet his gaze as I scooped up my clutch. I could feel his eyes on me, observing me, heating my skin. I felt like I was suffocating. Without a backward glance, I turned on my heel and stormed out of there, feeling desperately guilty that Jean went to all that effort for a wasted dinner. I hoped Alfie made sure he was well compensated.
Outside, the cool night air hit me with a rush, and that, combined with too much wine on an empty stomach, sent my head spinning. I ignored the feeling and stalked down the road, but quickly realised that I had no idea where I was and no way of getting home.
I was about to give up and cry when I saw a taxi with its light on. A taxi from here to home would probably cost me what I made in a week but it'd be worth it to get me out of here.
I ran towards my salvation, waving furiously. It slowed to a stop, but just as I was about to climb in, a pair of strong arms encircled my waist.
“You’re not running from me, O'Connell. Not this time.” I struggled but he didn't release me. His grip on me was overwhelming, and my body and mind warred with each other. I wanted him. I wanted away from him. I couldn’t think with him so close and that scared me. I pulled at his hands, trying to get them away from my waist, and let out a yell of frustration when his grip didn’t give.
“Are you finished?” he asked, sounding mildly amused. I let out another squeal of frustration and squeezed my eyes shut. I told myself to breathe. To stop and relax. He wasn’t a god, he was just a man, and he had no real power over me. I stood still and after a few moments, he released me. I spun away from him, but he just stood there, aloof as ever, and put his hands in his pockets.
“Are you getting in, love?” The taxi driver sounded bored and not at all concerned that I’d just been manhandled.
“You aren’t getting in that taxi, O’Connell.” Alfie’s voice was low, a threatening edge to it. “You’ve been drinking and he’s a stranger. This is reckless and stupid.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“There are half a dozen ways I could stop you, but I would prefer you made the right decision on your own.”
With a scoff, I turned and opened the door to the taxi, but a hand came around me and slammed it shut before his body flattened against me, pinning me to the black cab. I gasped as his chest pressed up against my back, his breath hot on my neck. My mind swam, my body instantly languid, as malleable as dough.
I could feel him fumbling between us, undoing his jacket; what was he doing?
“Sir, maybe you should—” The driver's words were cut off as Alfie removed a bill-fold from his pocket and tossed it to him through the open window.
“Leave.” Alfie pulled me away from the taxi and I watched in dismay as it disappeared down the street. With a growl of frustration I lifted my foot and brought it down on his stupid, fancy shoe. He grunted and released me. We stared each other down for one long moment. He straightened his jacket, eyeing me as if I were an errant child.
“I don’t like public spectacles, O’Connell. They’re bad for business.” He gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.“You won’t do it again.” He pulled away and crossed the street, leaving me standing there with a spinning head and an out of control heartbeat.
Outrage left a bitter taste in my mouth as I scowled at his retreating form.
I watched as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and the lights of an Aston Martin flashed. He opened the passenger door and looked at me expectantly.
I really didn’t want to get in that car but he had cut off any other option. I gritted my teeth as I crossed the road and got in the stupid car, ignoring Alfie’s smug gaze as I passed him.
With me safely deposited inside, he rounded the car and got in, sliding smoothly behind the wheel.
I must have been more drunk than I’d realised because I couldn't seem to make the seat belt work. He sighed and shoved my hands out of the way, fastening it for me.
The tension in the car had dulled to a dense ache by the time we arrived at my house.
My wine buzz had worn off and the long day had caught up with me, leaving me exhausted.
“Is irrational behaviour a habit for you?” Alfie asked. I turned to glare at him in the darkness.
“Is it a habit foryou?”
“Perhaps. But if it is, it’s a new habit. I'm wondering if it's built in for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him a moment longer before looking away. “No, it isn't. I'm fiery, not crazy.”
“Good. I don't want a repeat of this every time I see you.”