Page 5 of The Aries Alliance (BLP Signs of Love #14)

Too Bold

I must have been under duress when I first met Warrick Redmond, because nothing hinted at his handsomeness that was on full display today.

In previous meetings, he’d been useless, sitting like a bump on a log, spewing long-winded information about random work policies that made no sense.

Or maybe he had not been relevant since his HR subordinates were usually the ones dealing with me and my “antics,” as many of them called it.

Only now did I realize what I’d been missing by not being in his presence.

The dissonance of Warrick’s seriousness, natural attractiveness, and harsh words threw me off as he matched my energy without flinching.

Up close, he had an intense, attentive look that unsettled me.

When I spoke, he lowered his head, peering at me above his adorable round-framed glasses as if he needed to see me to hear me better.

Although subtle, he silently tracked my movements with longer-than-necessary gazes on my hands, lips, and legs.

As a researcher who studied human movement, I read his body language, which confirmed he was a keen listener too. Maybe that was how he ascended so quickly at EFU.

To my dismay, I became distracted every time Warrick gave me his full attention.

Even when he said nothing, his light-colored eyes twinkled as his lips remained drawn.

His recessive genes game was on point, reminding me of an older version of this popular Black British actor with light eyes and a deep voice who was all the rave on social media these days.

Other guys were intimidated by me and my assertiveness, but Warrick behaved as if I were a meek lamb holding a casual conversation with him.

No matter what I threw at him, he remained poised—Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected—with that piercing, steady look that made me want to shed my cardigan and dress in his office.

I shouldn’t have ogled his body, but when he stood, his physical dominance drew me in.

He was a big guy, with broad shoulders and a strong chest that filled that pristine shirt and blazer in a way that made me pay attention closer than I intended to.

Although his pants were dark and tapered at the leg, I couldn’t ignore how something below his waist winked at me when he moved.

Despite all the cons of Warrick Redmond, he fascinated me more than he should have.

I walked into his office fired up and ready to resolve my case, but I left excited for our next exchange, hoping he could push me to the edge of wherever we went in our conversations.

The freaky side of me itched to touch him, but the logical side of me reasoned that I shouldn’t fantasize about an oppressor who did the bidding of an organization that disrespected marginalized people.

As I walked to the parking garage and my car, a social media notification and a private message popped up. My heart raced.

War? Chile . . . why was Warrick, aka War, slipping into my mind and my social media account? Instead of opening the app, I dropped my phone to my side and walked the remaining distance to my car.

I allowed my mind to wander with umpteen questions about him. With his hawk-like skills, had Warrick picked up on my attraction to him? Was I a glutton for punishment or just horny? I didn’t have an ounce of energy for any drama associated with that. Or did I?

When I entered my car and turned on the ignition, I opened my social media app and pulled up Warrick’s profile.

I expected to see a buttoned-up professional, but instead, I noticed a gorgeous glasses-free guy with the stance of a Greek god.

That same glare stared into the camera as his full, pink lips remained closed above a chiseled jaw that signaled to the world that he was nobody’s pushover.

Warrick Redmond may have been a snobby nerd in his EFU office, but this hunk of perfection, War, was sexy as sin, with muscles bulging from his olive-green button-up.

I imagined him picking me up and tossing me over his broad shoulder and placing his hand firmly over my behind so I wouldn’t fall.

I would be the Jane to his Tarzan in a secluded jungle destination where we could unleash the pent-up tension that brewed between us.

He would meet my verbal blows, throwing them back at me without missing a beat.

We would fulfill each other’s naughty fantasies away from this hellhole of a place called work.

“What are you doing? This man is the enemy.” I spoke the words out loud as I forced myself to stop daydreaming about War.

There’s nothing wrong with imagining something that will never happen. You’re not hurting anyone.

I smiled and accepted War’s friend request, despite knowing that decision would only feed my foolish, budding obsession with him.

“Damn.” My thumbs couldn’t flick through photos in his online albums fast enough as he walked shirtless on a sandy beach in knee-length shorts, then ascended from a clear pool of aquamarine water in a pool at what appeared to be an expensive resort.

I thought Warrick was debonair in his office, but these photos placed him in a league I only dreamed about. What was his backstory? Why did he present himself in such different lights, and why was he inviting me into his private world after such a heated exchange?

Then it hit me. If I had access to his profile, he had access to mine. The rules may not be applied correctly to everyone else, but the evil people at my job could gain access to the private parts of me to put me in my place. I was an idiot.

I was seconds away from unfriending Warrick, when a message from him popped into my app’s inbox.

War:

I need to see you this weekend. Alone.

Oh, hell no. This man was persistent and highly inappropriate. I took a big breath and typed my words carefully, reading them several times before sending my message.

Me:

No, thank you, Mr. Redmond. I already met with you today.

War:

I have information you need.

This didn’t feel right. Maybe someone was pretending to be Warrick. It had to be a setup.

Me:

Send me a dick pic so I know it’s you. Call me what I told you to call me in your office too.

I set the bar high, calling his bluff. I waited for what seemed like several minutes before Warrick sent a message.

Warrick:

Hold on. I’m looking for one you’ll like, Dr. Kane.

When he wrote my honorific, I knew it was him. That awareness had my heart thumping. Was he really going to send me a naked photo?

Warrick was a man of surprises and strategic as hell, so I needed to remain composed for whatever he sent. Time seemed to pass slowly as I waited with bated breath. I was seconds away from closing the app to start my drive home when I gasped.

It wasn’t the dick pic I asked for, but it was a full body photo of Warrick lying shirtless on his elbow, in a big bed, with one foot propped up.

His thick, long penis print poked lewdly through light gray boxers that weren’t too tight or too loose.

He was as big as I suspected. Those seductive cat-like eyes of his penetrated the screen much like I bet his erection did when he made love to his woman.

Warrick:

Does it meet your satisfaction, Dr. Kane?

It certainly did. Instead of answering immediately, I wanted to know who took that sexy photo.

Stop it! Are you jealous or something?

I put the phone down and blushed, sneaking peeks at the picture every few seconds in disbelief, zooming in on that pretty package in his boxers and those pretty, big feet.

I held my hand over my mouth and bit my lip as I tilted my phone and my head, eyeing his body from every angle.

He had miles of muscles, ripped abs, smooth skin, and slightly-there hair in all the right places.

Ooh wee, he was luscious. I finally composed myself and turned my logical brain back on.

Me:

It’s a’ight, but I should call the police on your perverted ass. Do you do everything people ask you to do, btw? This is why EFU sucks. Hiring weirdoes like you. Leave me alone.

I acted tough, but if Warrick wasn’t my enemy, I’d be on every inch of him like white on rice.

But this was the real world with serious consequences for bad behavior.

I had bills to pay, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize my career and reputation for a guy who didn’t have enough sense to keep R-rated photos to himself.

War:

Wait…Dr. Kane, although I prefer to call you Scarlett. Call me. This conversation is going South, and I need to explain. I promise it’ll be worth your time. Please. *praying hands emoji*

Warrick shared his number. I stared at it for a few moments before I called him, finally putting him on speaker.

When he answered on the first ring, in the deepest of voices, I blinked slowly, willing my brain to function properly.

Had he been a phone sex worker in a past life?

When I gathered myself, I spoke in a raised voice.

“What do you want, and who the hell is War?”

“I need you to meet me tonight and tomorrow at a cottage in Ramston. It’s important. I’m sending you the address. War is my nickname, by the way.” His matter of fact, outlandish words threw me off as much as his voice.

Why Ramston? With its secluded hiking trails, fiery sunsets, and romantic bed-and-breakfasts, it was a city for lovers. ‘War’ was a darn fool if he thought I was going anywhere with him like we were a couple in love.

“Check out the property. I’ll wait.”

Silence filled the line as I typed in the address he sent me. The picture of a quaint white cottage with rust-colored shutters popped up. It was the perfect location for a young couple to make babies, not for War and me to meet.

“Are you a serial killer or something?”

“If I were a serial killer, do you think I’d tell you?”

“Good point. Why must you meet with me outside work? That’s super shady.”

“I heard you today and want to give you an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to do what?”

“Be on my team.”