Seven
Lexi’s heart ticked quick and hard against her ribs. In her hotel room, she pulled out everything in her luggage and stood there naked, just out of the shower, staring at her clothes spread across the four-poster bed.
“I have nothing to wear,” she said around the fingernail she kept clenched between her teeth. “That means I can’t go, right?”
Her gaze darted to the clock on the nightstand. The glowing red numbers created a countdown pressure in her chest. Her rational mind kept telling her to just wait to see him until after he got back from work. Just take the day to think about it.
Her body kept telling her she should already be in his bed.
She glanced at her underwear again. Black and white, satin and lace, nothing special. Nothing pretty.
“Well, shit. ” She dropped her hand to her hip. “I didn’t expect to meet dream man. ”
And dream man was probably used to the sexiest women in the sexiest underwear.
“He’s a guy. He probably won’t even notice. They all just rip it off anyway. ”
Lexi’s mind flashed with that image—Jax’s mouth attacking hers, his hands frantically searching her body, fingers wrapping in the hip of her panties and yanking until they tore. Her whole body tightened in gooseflesh. Her nipples peaked. Sex tingled.
“Fuck it. ” She grabbed the skimpiest pair of bikini underwear she’d brought—lace with satin edges, strings and bows at the hips, and the matching bra—and pulled them on.
“Now what?”
God, like it mattered? Still…
She had cute casual clothes, business clothes, and one nightclub outfit. But nothing sexy for a Jax encounter. Nothing perfect for her first visit to Jax’s room. Correction—suite.
The fact that he’d gotten a suite so fast made discomfort pinch deep in her belly. He was someone. He had to be. Even Rubi’s billionaire father couldn’t get that kind of service with Spencer. But Jax wasn’t famous. People hadn’t been approaching him at the airport, asking for his autograph. Yet there was no doubt he wielded a certain amount of power. That he possessed a certain level of wealth. Everyone who stayed with Spencer did. Lexi considered herself his charity case and had been introduced to Spencer by Rubi and her father.
She’d thought Jax’s ability to get a room here would make her feel more secure. And in some ways it had. But in others, she’d grown uneasy. Power and wealth made Lexi leery. Power and wealth could turn people ugly when something—or someone—they wanted slipped out of reach.
Her stomach prickled with hundreds of cold pins and needles as her memory turned to other men in her past who’d had power and wealth and had tried to use them to control her.
While she’d always known her looks played a big part in men’s initial interest, her relationship with one successful real estate developer, Steven Connelly, had taught her it was far more complex than that. Lexi had learned that for many men, having her on their arm made a statement about them as a man—from the obvious I’m a stud to catch such a hot babe, to the far more subtle assumption of a man’s overall power in business.
She’d also realized that losing her said just as much.
Steven hadn’t been willing to accept whatever negative self-assessments he’d associated with Lexi breaking off the relationship and threatened her studio lease after she’d upgraded the space with her entire savings. He’d had the money to hire attorneys if she fought. He’d had the power to create a media frenzy if she went public.
He would have crushed her life, her dreams, all so he could wear her on his arm.
Rubi’s father had been Lexi’s ultimate savior. For all his faults—and he had many—he’d come through for Lexi at Rubi’s pleading requests. As grateful as she would always be to Rudolpho Russo for his help, Lexi never wanted to be in a position to need him again.
Her nerves kicked up. She’d felt so capable when she was flirting with Jax. So sexy. So in control. Now, she just felt inept. And incompetent. And…reckless.
Reckless. God, she needed more of that in her life. Spontaneity. Passion. Freedom. The kind she felt when Rubi gunned her Ferrari.
That thought was the impulse she’d needed to pull on the frilly short skirt from her cute set, the sexy halter from her business collection, and the sparkling four-inch heels from her club outfit.
She ran her fingers through her hair, shook it out, and glanced in the mirror. Yes, she looked like a woman ready for steamy hot sex with a stranger.
Lexi grabbed her room key and her phone and left the room before she couldn’t. Purposely keeping her mind clear and her gaze averted from the obvious interest of other guests at the way she was dressed at nine a. m. on a weekday morning, Lexi rode the elevator, praying Jax hadn’t left the hotel yet.
She found herself at the door of 714 suffering an anxiety attack. Her heart ticked way too fast. Her head floated. Her lungs struggled.
She pressed a hand to her stomach and wandered a few feet from his door, trying to drag in enough air to calm her brain. The hallway remained empty, so she leaned her back against the wall and texted him.
LEXI: Are you still in the hotel?