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We walk towards our very glamorous billionaire hangout that's known for celebrities and crazily rich people, after we get off the same posh shuttle bus that chauffeured us to the hotel.

He may like to be anonymous on his night off but choosing a rich folk, high-profile hangout is rather ironic. I get that maybe it's because security in these places is high, as we are all patted and scanned on arrival for concealed weapons when we get to the main entrance and all the red ropes blocking entry. I catch him watching me—watching the guard's hands more specifically, as he runs the wand over my 'boobage' area slower than the rest of me with intensely focused eyes on my cleavage. Alexi snarls with an accompanied growl when the man lingers too long, and then gently pushes me forward ahead of him as though to tell the guy enough is enough. It's not aggression at me, but the death glare honed on the security is very hostile as the goon seems to swallow hard, rather than question the fact I am being moved out of his way.

I get waved by awkwardly and wait patiently for my angry escort. He literally glares the guard down into a liquid mess in his own shoes as he skims over him far quicker than anyone else in line. I guess when a pair of pale greys is locked on your face with laser precision at close proximity, and pretty much bearing into your skull for daring to touch his toy, you move on as fast as you can. He still intimidates people far too easily. I guess it's that aura of psychotic sociopath he always has circling around him.

'Relax ... Forgetting yourself for one night, remember?' I nudge him as he is let loose, still throwing the guard serious shade, and yank him with me by the jacket sleeve stubbornly. My own mood is back to light and breezy after the bus over here. Everyone in high spirits and even Alexi seemed mellow, until now that is. I guess it finally rubbed off on me and I can forgive and forget for a few hours while enjoying myself. I'd rather try and have fun than spend the night being the atmosphere killer.

Alexi follows and lays a hand on the small of my back possessively to guide me in front of him, still simmering at that idiot security, but we catch sight of the ones ahead of us who already got through and catch up with our party quickly.

Despite thinking he is an arse I still came with him, so I'm going to play nice and stay close. For all he is, he keeps me safe wherever we go and other men at bay, and I need that from him right now. It's nice to have someone else have your back and relieve you from always having to be on full alert.

I aim to get drunk; try and have a good time, seeing as we are here now, and then go home to never accept this kind of offer from him again. It's too complicated between us and it just leaves room for a whole lot of misunderstanding.

* * *

The night is going far better than expected and despite the no touching rule, I don't mind Alexi being handsy in the way he's been all night. It's not sexual or intrusive, just keeping me close, guiding me when we move and pulling me onto his lap when there are no other seats around for me to sit on. So I don't end up like a third wheel outside of the group, or easily accessible for the hordes of overly touchy men in this club. He's looking after me in his obsessively protective way.

I can't fault it when it's the first night of my life I have been able to truly relax and just be myself in a fun setting.

Sitting in his lap is an odd experience. I mean, it is Alexi after all, and being comfortable in such an intimate way is not normal for us. The first couple of times he did it I sat stiff and awkward, very aware of the warmth of his body under me and how close this made us, and his hands remained loose at his sides. It was as though he somehow wanted to show he wouldn't touch me.

He hasn't said as much, but then he's not much of a talker. With him, it's always actions over words.

I have to really fight myself on how he makes me feel when we have bodily contact, and I am not going to lie ... Alexi has me hornier than hell now I am alcohol powered once more. He's all manly muscle and good looks and oozes sex appeal, especially when he's cradling me this way. He feels nice when he touches me, smells even better, and I swear he couldn't have any more testosterone if he tried. I maybe have had moments of drunken drooling and been flirtier than is safe. My knickers may self-combust if this keeps up.

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