Alex
When Alexis stepped out of the car, dressed in a simple white tunic with her hair neatly tied back, she looked like an angel.
The loose fabric hid her curves, but even then, she radiated beauty. Hell, she could have worn a trash bag, and I’d still crave her.
Our eyes met, and she smiled, that one look dissolving any doubts I had about how deep my feelings for her went. I was in love with her—whether she was ready to admit it or not.
She glanced at the glass-fronted building in awe, her mouth slightly open. "Wow," she whispered, sounding like a kid on Christmas morning.
"You like it?" I asked, stepping aside to let her take in the sight. The golden mannequins, sleek machines, and every piece of equipment sparkled behind the glass.
"It's beautiful," she said, clapping her hands
