6. Bad Time?
1055 Words
Alex's mind was stuck on a loop of images he couldn't shake, even as he flipped pancakes. That naked body pressing against him, those fingers tracing his c**k through his pants. The memory burned through him, making his hand jerk and splatter batter across the counter.
"Careful, babe," Nancy called from the kitchen island where she was reading something. "You're making a mess."
Alex grunted in response, barely registering her words. All he could see was Lena's perfect ass arched toward him.
Her voice echoed in his head: "f**k you, Alex. I'm gonna make you regret this."
Would he regret it? He already did. But which part, touching her or stopping himself?
Warm arms slipped around his waist, startling him back to reality. Nancy pressed her cheek against his back, her sweet voice wrapping around him.
"You seem a million miles away this morning. Everything okay?"
Alex turned with the spatula in hand, facing her concerned green eyes. Beautiful, sweet Nancy with her soft blonde waves and gentle smile. The woman he should want.
"Just thinking about Lena," he said before he could stop himself.
Nancy's eyebrow quirked. "Oh?"
"She's been... annoying lately." The half-truth tasted bitter. "I'm considering cutting her off."
He'd already blocked her number the moment he'd left Zentharis. Ten years of friendship, potentially ruined because she'd decided to show him a side of herself he wasn't prepared to see.
Nancy traced circles on his chest, but her touch was nothing like Lena's hungry grasp.
"You two have been friends for so long. Maybe you should talk it out instead?"
Alex kissed her forehead, grateful for her understanding even as guilt churned his stomach. Did he love Nancy because she was safe? Did he love Lena as a friend, or was it more? Or was it simply that he wanted to do things to Lena he'd never even considered with Nancy?
"Maybe," he mumbled, turning back to the pancakes that were now burning. "Shit."
"Language," Nancy laughed, swatting his arm playfully.
Alex couldn't remember the last time Lena had scolded him for cursing. She usually cursed right back.
---
The elevator climbed toward the executive floor of VossTech, and Alex found himself hovering over the button for the marketing department. One floor down, where Lena would be.
He pulled his hand back, adjusting his tie instead. Five days had passed since the club incident. Five days of silence.
What was she planning? The Lena he thought he knew wouldn't go this quiet. She'd spam his phone with texts, show up at his office unannounced, corner him at lunch.
But this Lena—the one with masks and corsets and leather panties, who performed at s*x clubs and stripped naked in front of him—was a stranger.
What would the stranger do?
Her silence unnerved him more than her boldness had. Nancy had returned to her own house, leaving him pacing his penthouse every night, waiting for a knock at the door, nude photos sent to his work email, or just something wild and chaotic that matched the Lena he'd seen at Zentharis.
But nothing came.
The thought that she'd decided he wasn't worth the trouble bothered him more than it should have.
The elevator doors opened, and Alex strode toward his office, nodding curtly at his assistant.
"Mr. Voss, your 10 AM meeting with marketing and PR is set up in the conference room," she called after him.
His steps faltered. Lena worked in marketing.
"Move it to my office," he said without looking back.
The marketing team filed into Alex's office precisely at 10 AM. He kept his eyes on his laptop, not wanting to scan their faces for hers.
"Let's get started." He closed his laptop and finally looked up.
His breath caught. Lena sat at the far end of the table, her arm in a sling, a nasty bruise shadowing her left cheekbone.
What the f**k had happened to her?
She didn't meet his gaze, her eyes fixed on the notepad in front of her. The marketing director launched into his presentation, but Alex wasn't hearing a word. All his focus was on Lena's injuries.
"Ms. Martinez," he interrupted, voice sharper than intended. "What happened?"
The room fell silent. Lena looked up, but not at him. At a spot just above his head.
"It was an accident, Mr. Voss. Nothing serious."
The formality stung. The lack of eye contact infuriated him.
"When?" he pressed.
"Three days ago." She glanced at the marketing director. "The presentation, sir?"
Alex clenched his jaw but nodded for the director to continue. Throughout the hour-long meeting, Lena never once looked directly at him. She spoke with clipped answers when addressed, but her gaze always landed on his forehead, his tie, or the wall behind him.
When the meeting ended, Alex stood. "Ms. Martinez, stay behind."
She gathered her things as if she hadn't heard him, rising with the others.
"Lena," he said, louder.
She walked out without a backward glance, leaving whispers in her wake. Bandages peeked out from beneath her skirt, wrapped around her thigh.
Alex slammed his fist on the table, startling the stragglers who hurried out, closing the door behind them.
---
Night had fallen by the time Alex pulled up outside Lena's apartment building. He'd tried to focus on anything but the image of Lena's bruised face, but concern had won out over his resolve to keep his distance.
He knocked sharply, one hand shoved in his pockets. The door swung open.
Lena stood there, hair wet from what must have been a recent shower, a towel wrapped around her body. Water droplets glistened on her collarbone, trickling down toward the swell of her breasts.
"We need to talk," Alex said, forcing his gaze to stay on her face.
Before she could respond, a male voice called from inside. "Girl, I think your shampoo ruined my hair."
A tall figure appeared behind her, shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist. He froze when he saw Alex, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Boss."
Alex stood paralyzed, his mind spinning with burning unease. This was her revenge? Making him watch her with his employee?
His hands curled into fists as he stared at them. So they'd f****d and shared a steamy bath together?
"Bad time?" His voice came out cold.
- Writer
