The Carrero Contract - Finding Freedom (Book 3 of Contract Trilogy)

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"Wakey, Wakey, sleepyhead." Alexi brushes his fingers across my face and rouses me from a glorious sleep with that sexy huskiness of his voice and hot familiar touch of his skin, star-shaped in this huge king-size bed, my body weightless and cosy. Brain reset and finally free of both headache and heavy fatigue that was making everything foggy.

He is lying beside me, propped on one arm casually so he leans over my face, admiring me, and bends in to kiss me lightly as my eyes flutter open and adjust to the gloom of the room. Igniting those butterflies inside of me that brings on a happy, bubbly internal kind of merry. It's darker than when I fell asleep and I can tell it's probably evening already.

"Hey," I reply drowsily, stretching out like a Cheshire cat, content and yawning the tiredness away. Revelling in his affections that are becoming so necessary the longer I'm with him. I like his little touches and kisses more than I ever thought I could, take something from them I never knew existed in life. They are like air to my lungs, sanity to my scatty brain and I never imagined he could be the way he has become in the past weeks towards me. It makes me fall for him so much harder than I thought was possible.

"It's late and we need to make plans." He leans in again and delivers another lingering kiss on my lips, rubbing noses, moulding mouths, this time a little seductive light tongue action, his fingers lightly tracing my face and down my throat, igniting tingles as he does so. I giggle at his amorous approach to a half-asleep woman, sliding my hand up and around that strong neck to pull him closer when he breaks away. Loving the temporary lull in my self-inflicted mind mess and focusing on being seduced by a sexy man. It piques my libido and I'm not against waking up to some bed action if he is game.

"Why? I thought the plan was I sleep, and you do whatever you do. Be kingpin while I be lazy mistress." I yawn again, impulsively reaching up with my other hand to stroke fingers across the five o'clock shadow appearing at his jawline. I run my nails gently around that square sculpted shape, admiring the face that makes me horny before he catches them in his and pulls my attention back to his eyes by kissing my fingertips.

"We have done all we need to do here, and I have to go see my father. I figured if we caught a late flight tonight and headed straight to The Hamptons from JFK, we could kill two birds with one stone. Vegas is not exactly doing me any favours where you are concerned and maybe my house, near my family will be a good place to spend a night before heading back to Manhattan. Time out somewhere relaxing." Alexi fixes me with a gaze that seems a little unsure. A storm brewing in the mist of his eye colour and I can tell stress is laying just under the surface. He's holding it in and waiting for a sign as to how I'm feeling.

I blink at him stupendously, my brain on slow mo. So many questions from such a loaded statement as I try to wake up properly.

"Leave tonight? Instead of tomorrow night?" I clear my throat and rub my eyes, confused by the change.

"Yeah. I need to tell my father face to face about us before it gets back to him via my big mouthed brother. I owe it to him to tell him first and there are a few things I need to discuss with him in general." Alexi looks instantly ashen, furrowed brow, squared off jaw, and that tiny little flicker showing he's clenching it. His words have my confidence wavering just a tad and I realise it's because 'things' concerning 'us' means our shotgun wedding which I burst into tears over. Alexi has no idea how to navigate what I feel as we still haven't talk about it properly, and I'm afraid to open that can of worms in my brain already. I just want to relax in the absence of hysteria for a little while longer. Pretend it's not real, bury my head and act like nothing is different. For now, anyway.

"Right." I sound less enthused about it than I mean to, and he instantly looks away across the room for a moment. Dropping my fingers and pulling far enough away that my hand around his neck slides free from its own weight. That heavy inhale and the way he sags slightly, tells me that this bothers him as much as it does me. He recoils to hide his reaction, but I can read it anyway. I wounded him, and I inwardly curse myself out for it. Guilt eating into my stomach in an awful wrenching manner.