Men Are Prada Shoes

CHAPTER 12

ALINA

Leaning back against the dresser, I took a slow drag from the cigarette between my fingers, watching him closely as he stirred on the bed.

He was still naked underneath the sheets, slowly coming back to consciousness.

I tilted my head slightly, replaying the conversation | had planned in my mind for the hundredth time.

I have done this kind of thing before, more times than I cared to count. But people had a way of messing things up for me. And when they did, I stopped playing nice.

His eyes squeezed shut as he groaned. "Why does my motherfucking head hurt.." he muttered, rolling to his side whilst pressing a hand to his forehead.

It took him a few seconds to fully register where he was and when he finally did, his eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

I exhaled smoke slowly in his direction and finally pushed myself off the dresser. My hand reached for the glass of scotch beside me, fingers wrapping around it without looking.

"I'd take that as an insult," I said flatly.

Brows pulling together in a deep scowl, he shifted the blanket off his body, looking down at his naked self, then around the room.

"What happened last night?" he mumbled. "Did we...?"

Swaying my hips, I halted at the foot of the bed, bent down, and inched my face closer to his, taking in his breath as he breathed out. “I give you the best orgasm of your life, choking on your monster c**k and you can’t even remember what happened because you insistently kept on taking alcohol?”

My eyes narrowed at him. “Did you drink that much because you couldn’t stand the idea of having s*x with me while you are fully conscious?”

His head jerked slightly at the accusation.

“I had too much to drink?” he repeated quickly, almost offended, then winced as another wave of pain hit him. He pressed his fingers to his temple. “How am I not remembering any of this?”

I rolled my eyes. “I was told you were a jerk, but watching you prove it yourself in real time is making me wonder if I should’ve picked another man from the bar instead.”

“Wait!” he blurted, reaching out and grabbing my wrist before I could step away. “I hate myself right now for not remembering being with a goddess like you. I swear, this won’t happen again.”

A small smirk tugged at my lips.

“Of course it won’t happen again, Alex, I don’t do repeats.”

His fingers tightened painfully around my wrist.

“I want a repeat,” he gritted out, the veins in his neck pulst.

I glanced down at his hand, then back up at his face, unimpressed.

“Trying to leave your fingerprints on my wrist is not exactly the way to earn yourself a second chance.”

He paused, then slowly released me as if he had just realized himself.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dropping.

I tilted my head. “What can you offer?”

“I will buy five Voss Bags.”

That made me blurt out a laugh. “If I slept with every client who bought Voss Bags,” I said, shaking my head slowly, “you wouldn’t even be in this bed right now.”

His jaw tightened instantly.

“Suggesting I offer my body in exchange for a brand that is already doing exceptionally well is not just insulting to me, it’s insulting to my business as well.”

He exhaled through his nose, visibly frustrated now. Running a hand through his hair, he tugged at the strands a little too hard.

“What do you want then?” he asked again, more controlled this time, but still clearly annoyed.

Instead of answering immediately, I turned away from him, gathering his clothes scattered across my floor, then flung them straight at him.

The shirt hit his face first.

Then the rest landed across his chest and lap.

He blinked, stunned.

“Try again,” I said calmly, folding my arms. “What exactly can you offer me, Mr. Alex Wember?”

He stared at me for a moment, then looked away, scanning the room. I could practically see him digging through his mind, searching for something valuable enough to match me.

Then, finally_

“Be my date.

Internally, I almost squealed.

Outwardly, I stayed perfectly composed.

“What event?”

“Mr. Williams Sterling’s seventieth birthday,” he replied. “I don’t have a date for the event. You can come with me… and I’ll introduce you to a lot of influential people. People who matter.”

“And you think I can’t meet them on my own?” I tilted my head slowly, studying him. “You always seem to find a new way to insult me, Mr. Wember.”

“You may be able to meet them, but you won’t even get past the entrance of Sterling’s event. Invitations have already been sent out, and I can swear on my life, you don’t have one.”

My eyes drifted over his face with almost teasing look, one I made sure looked like fake desire rather than annoyance.

“I’m going to give you a repeat,” I said softly, my voice dipping just enough to hook his attention, “because I can still feel the ache between my legs… and I would very much like to relive it.”

That tension in his jaw loosened, and then he smiled, licking his lips.

“Pick me up yourself,” I instructed. “I don’t do secretaries.”

“Done. And when do I get the repeat?”

“After the event.” David better figure out how to get me out of this mess before then.

I reached for my phone. “You should leave now. My secretary will be here soon.”

Alex didn’t argue this time.

He rolled off the bed and began gathering his clothes from the night before, dressing himself in slow movements.

While he did that, I walked into my closet, pulled out one of the VOSS bags, I specifically kept for him, still inside its customized box, then walked back out into the room just as Alex finished pulling on his shirt.

His eyes immediately flicked to me, then to the box in my hands.

“What is that?” he asked, suspicious now.

I placed it down.

He frowned. “What? You give every man you f**k a gift?”

“Not every man gets me an opening to Sterling’s seventieth birthday,” I countered, letting a slow, flirty smile curl on my lips as I stepped closer to him.

“It’s not for you, it’s for your mother.”

That got him.

His brows lifted. “Are you trying to get me to marry you?”

The word alone made my body recoil dramatically.

I even shuddered.

“Say that word to me again,” I said flatly, cold just enough to make sure he understood I wasn’t joking, “and I’ll shove both the invitation and your little promised repeat up your ass.”

He let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained.

“Am I allowed to open it?” he asked, glancing down at it.

I shrugged without much care. “Do whatever you want. Just understand I’m giving your mother one of our special editions. There’s a three-year waiting list for it.”

That made him pause for a second longer than usual, then he smiled. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Good, now shoo. I have actual business to attend to.”

But instead of leaving like I expected, he stepped closer.

Before I could react, his hand caught the back of my head and he pulled me in just enough to press a kiss to my forehead.

My entire body stilled.

“Don’t even think of denying me the repeat after the event Alina, I am not entirely opposed to taking things forcefully, especially things promised to me.”