Chapter 3

Alexander stared at the small damp patch on the mattress, his jaw clenching.

"I'll change the sheets," he said, looking away. His voice was ice.

I pulled his oversized shirt tighter around myself. The hem barely covered my upper thighs.

"Then hurry up." I fought back a smirk, watching the tips of the usually untouchable hockey captain's ears burn a stark, unnatural red.

It took him less than two minutes to throw on fresh sheets.

"Go to sleep." With his back to me, he reached for a book on his desk.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'll be up for a while."

I stayed exactly where I was, leaning back on my hands and dangling my legs over the edge of the bed. In the dead silence of the room, the friction of the fabric brushing against the sheets was deafening.

I just sat there, pouting slightly, making zero effort to hide what I wanted from him.

Alexander paused mid-page turn.

He spun around and closed the distance between us in two strides. His massive shadow swallowed me whole.

He leaned in, trapping me as he planted both hands on the mattress on either side of my hips.

"I told you to get in bed." He lowered his head, his gaze heavy and predatory as it dragged from my collarbone to my face. "Unless you want to sleep together?"

My heart skipped a beat. He was way too close. I leaned back instinctively. "Who wants to—"

The harsh buzz of his phone severed the tension. It was Julian.

Alexander's eyes darkened instantly. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he swiped to answer.

"Alex! You home? Someone said they saw Chloe heading into your building, is she..." Julian's agitated voice blared through the speaker.

He started to pull back, opening his mouth to explain it away.

I grabbed his collar and yanked him right back down.

Instinct took over, and his hand clamped down on my waist. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, his palm was scalding hot. His entire body went rigid as iron. His heavy fingers gripped my side, yet he clearly didn't dare to squeeze.

I leaned right into his ear. "Tell him I'm not here."

The hand on my waist tightened involuntarily.

"Haven't seen her."

Without another word, he killed the call and unceremoniously dropped the phone onto the rug.

His last thread of control snapped. Alexander pressed his weight into me, and I felt the undeniable, rigid evidence of his arousal right against me.

Panic flared hot in my chest, and I shoved at him out of pure instinct.

"Stop pushing me." His voice was wrecked, a raw warning ground out through clenched teeth. "I don't know what the hell I'll do next."

Then he crashed his mouth down on mine. There was nothing gentle or hesitant about it—it was pure, devastating possession. He swallowed my gasp, suffocating me as I pushed desperately at his solid shoulders. He didn't budge.

But the moment he felt my resistance, he froze. Whatever shred of sanity he had left forced him to pull back a fraction of an inch. His chest heaved against mine, his eyes wild with a hunger he couldn't hide anymore.

I sucked in a desperate breath. Terrifyingly aware of what he'd just woken up inside me, I went on the offensive. "Do what? Alexander, be honest... you've never even had a girlfriend, have you?"

That hit the exact wrong nerve. The blue of his eyes went pitch black, replaced by a flash of annoyance and terrifyingly dark possessiveness.

"Let's find out, then."

He claimed my mouth again. Harder this time. Deeper. But seconds later, the brutal pressure eased, shifting into something devastatingly slow. He might have been inexperienced, but he was a lethal learner, expertly coaxing my lips apart.

My legs went completely liquid. I was drowning right up until the hand on my waist slipped beneath the hem of the shirt. His scorching palm slid directly onto my bare thigh, tracking higher with undeniable, blatant intent.

I panicked and clamped my hand tightly around his wrist.

Alexander froze.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a ragged breath, his chest vibrating against mine. Then, he tore himself away and collapsed on his back beside me.

The only sound in the room was our heavy, erratic breathing.

"What was that..." I stared at the dark flush still burning the tips of his ears.

"Go to sleep. I'll take the couch."

He shot up from the mattress and stalked toward the door.

His fingers had barely curled around the brass handle when heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.

"Alex, you in there?"

It was Julian.

Alexander's demeanor shifted in a violently fast snap. He crossed the room in two strides, killed the light switch, and yanked the heavy comforter up, burying me completely from head to toe.

"Don't move," he ordered, his voice dangerously low through the fabric.

I was plunged into utter darkness. His large palm clamped securely over my mouth. Eyes wide, I was forced flat against the hard wall of his chest.

Then the bedroom door was shoved open.

"Damn, asleep already?" Julian marched into the room, sounding as entitled and arrogant as ever.

Trapped beneath the suffocating weight of the blanket, I could feel every inch of Alexander's arm, the muscles coiled up and hard as stone.

"Yeah. Just tired," Alexander replied. His tone was perfectly bored, freezing cold.

But the hand suffocating my breath quietly shifted. His rough thumb dragged across my damp lower lip, rolling over the sensitive skin with a slow, agonizing pressure, entirely designed to tease.