We leave the new parents at the hospital. I am exhausted, it’s 10am and I need to get some sleep. I can tell the same for Alexander. The drive to his place is so quiet, I fall asleep five minutes into the road.

I wake up in the late afternoon in his bed alone.

Checking the time, I see that it’s three o’clock. I get up to take a shower. Once I am done I walk into his closet to get a shirt and a pair of his underwear.

I’m too lazy to go to my room.

Plus his Calvin Klein’s accomodate my big butt. I head to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal and I bump into someone I was not expecting to see.

“Miss June’, seeing her knocks the breath out of me.

“Rosalie my darling. It’s good to see you”. She pulls me in for a hug.

I feel so awkward. I’m basically half naked in front of one the people I fully respect in this house.

I shuffle my feet. Not sure what to do.

She senses my moral dilemma. “Oh don’t worry about it.”

I nod at her and take my bowl of fruit loops to the bedroom.

Alexander started including fruit loops into his grocery list after I told him that they are my favourite, right above Rice Krispies.

While eating, I go onto my Instagram. My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the amount of new followers I have.

Why are all these people following me?

Well maybe because your boyfriend is a famous business mogul.

They must follow him then, not me. Pity he does not have a social media account. He says it’s not something that he is interested in doing.

He really enjoys his private lifestyle.

“Miss Jones, you’re finally awake”, the man himself walks into the bedroom. He looks absolutely handsome with his white shirt and grey baggy shorts.

My throat goes dry at the sight of his toned legs. I’ve never seen him in shorts before. He always has sweatpants on when he is at home, and his sleep bottoms cover his legs.

I swallow the cereal in my mouth and smile at him.

Leaning towards me, his lips crash onto mine in a sweet morning slash late afternoon kiss.

“How did you sleep?”, he asks as he sits on the bed next to me. My feet are pulled onto his lap as his fingers start massaging.

It feels really good. I’ve never had a foot rub from a man before. “I slept okay. Did you get any sleep?”.

He sighs, his shoulders sagging dramatically, “Unfortunately I had work to attend to, so I could not sleep”.

“That’s not healthy, you need to get some rest”. I put the bowl on the bedside table then lean back onto the pillows against the headboard.

“Come here”. I pat my chest.

He obliges and shifts forward as he places his head in the crevice between my breasts.

“I feel like such a child”, he chuckles as he snuggles closer to me.

Laughing along with him, I start playing with his soft, dark hair. I spot a single strand of grey hair.

It’s like the only white strand of light in a dark abyss. This makes me laugh.

“What’s so funny?”, he asks, his voice muffled by the fact that his mouth is practically on my left boob.

“You have grey hair”.

His hand shoots to his head as he feels around.

Rolling my eyes at his silliness, I swat it away, “You won’t be able to feel it”. Grabbing my phone, I take a picture for him to see as I hand it to him.

“It’s just one?”, he sounds disappointed as if he wanted more.

As if he looks forward to being older.

“You were hoping for more?”.

“I was looking forward to being a silver fox”, I can tell that he is smirking. Ugh this man.

“Shut up and sleep”. I playfully scold him.

“Is that how you speak to your elder?”, he asks in mock shock.

I smile at his playfulness.

“Whatever grandpa”. He laughs and pulls me closer to him. I continue to run my fingers through his locks until I hear his deep breathing, indicating that he has fallen asleep.

Alexander sleeps for an hour. It does him good as he looks more refreshed than before.

The sky looks nice as it transforms from an amazing orange to a dark purple. The man next to me also looks as beautiful as the sunset.

We’re on our way to have an early dinner. It was his idea to go out. I was too afraid to even be out in public after the Belle drama. I finally told him about the threat from her. He said that he would take care of her.

He further said that I should pay no mind to what people think about us.

Their opinion doesn’t count.

“Opinions are just like buttholes, everyone has them”. I laughed so hard tears started streaming down my cheeks when he said that.

This beast of a man has a fantastic sense of humour.

Alexander Cain is a man of class. A man of high standard who wants nothing but the best.

That is something that is clear in everything he does. How he runs his businesses, how he lives, how he dresses. Even how he treats those around him.

I like how despite his wealth, he can be a humble person to those less fortunate. He treats people with the respect that they deserve.

He treats women with the respect that they deserve.

This comes over me as I observe him throughout dinner. He took me to this museum theme inspired restaurant. Beautiful pieces of art scatter across the walls. They are framed and hung on glass cases that protect them.

There’s pieces from John Kilduff to Mario Henrique. A huge frame dominates one wall. It contains one of the brightest pieces in the whole restaurant.

Identity VAN GOGH by Eric Carrazedo captures my eye. The swirls of turquoise and blue almost give off a trippy hippie effect.

It’s a gorgeous work of art isn’t it?”, he asks. His eyes also going back to the art in question.

“I love it, it’s captivating”, leaning over the table I give him a small peck on the lips, not caring about the fact that we’re not in a private dining area. We’re surrounded by other diners.

“Thank you.”, I say as I settle back into my seat.

Alexander apparently notices how my eyes always go back to the piece. “Do you like it?”

“I love it Lex”, I gratefully say to him.

He really thought of me when he decided to come here. This place is not just a restaurant but a place where art captures your heart and transforms you to another place. It’s not just the artwork, there are multiple historical artifacts.

Also a 3D printed version of the Mask of Tutankhamun.

It’s beautiful, almost as breathtaking as the actual mask in Cairo. One that I hope to see once in my life.

After dinner, we take a slow drive back to the mansion, that is until I spot a club as we pass the buildings.

An idea comes to me.

“Lex, can we please go inside?”,my torso turns towards him as I look at him with pleading eyes.

He hesitates before answering. I can tell that he is analysing the whole club scenario.

Please say yes.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agrees. Before I punch the air with joy, he adds on “But only for an hour”.

I excitedly nod at that.

I’m not someone who goes clubbing. I don’t even like clubs. The whole loud music, alcohol and sweaty bodies thing is not for me.

But there is something about being in that kind of environment with Alexander. My whole body tingles from the feeling of being in a club with him. With people around us, not caring about who we are or the age difference between us.

Just a couple who came to have fun with each other.

The bass thumping through the speakers, the alcohol from a fair amount of cranberry vodkas that I have drunk and the feel of Alexander’s hands on my hips is a lethal combination.

Out of all the abilities that I have, dancing is not one of them. But I don’t hear the man who is currently letting me grind my bum against his crotch. He, by the way, is an amazing dancer.

The man can seriously move.

Is there anything that he can’t do?

The strobe lights seem to fuel my fire as I continue to lose myself in the seductive feeling of Alexander’s hands on my body. The jeans I’m wearing suddenly feel too tight and too hot.

I just want to take them off and feel his hands on my skin.

Work by Rihanna comes on and it amps up the sexual tension between us on the dance floor. I am twirled and dipped like there’s no tomorrow.

We’re completely lost in our own bubble, as he gropes my butt and pulls me closer to him. My arms wrap around his neck as his lips make contact with mine in a deep kiss.

How has no one pulled us apart?

I feel like we’re practically doing it in the middle of a sweaty, drunk crowd.

“Let’s go home”, he says softly. Despite the loud music, I still hear his voice.

He holds my hand as we walk out to the car. The cool late evening air hits my face, I welcome the feeling as it sobers me up a little bit.

I trip on my feet, nearly face plant on the pavement. Thankfully Alexander’s hold on my weist keeps me up.

We get home and he helps me out of my clothes. I sit on the bed with only my bra and panties as he looks for a shirt for me to put on.

The look in his eyes as he stares at my underwear clad body, makes goosebumps rise on my skin.

He looks hungry.

Like a predator that is about to pounce on its prey.

The alcohol that is still buzzing in my system, makes my stupid mouth run off without consulting my brain first.

“Are you going to eat me?”.

His steps falter as he stands in front of me. My question brings a smirk to his handsome face.

“Why do you ask?”, the smirk never leaves his face as he helps me into the giant black tshirt.

The soft cotton feels nice on my skin.

“You look like you want to ravish me”.

Dude you really need to get a hold of your tongue.

A deep chuckle leaves his chest. My eyes are glued to his chest as he strips off his shirt, leaving him in the dark blue jeans he wore tonight.

“You look like Christian Grey”. He really does. It’s like he is about to take me to his playroom.

“Who is that?”, he confusingly asks. The way his nose scrunches up when he is confused is so adorable.

My drunk mind finds this funny as I fall into a fit of giggles.

“Now you have to watch Fifty Shades of Grey with me”, I excitedly said to him.

After he pulls on a pair of sweatpants, he joins me in bed.

Tonight has been great. I learnt a few new things about this man. He continues to amaze me with his tenderness towards me. He cares deeply for me as I do for him.

Plus he’s got moves like Jagger. The man can dance. I felt like a total novice next to him at the club.

“What’s on your mind?”, he asks.

Our heads lay on the pillows as we face each other. I zoned out staring at his beautiful blue eyes.

“You are”, I whisper out into the quiet, moonlit bedroom.

This makes him smile. A pure, genuine Alexander Cain smile.

“Oh yeah? What about me?”. His fingers lazily trail circles on my exposed hip, under the covers.

My body feels hot at his touch.

“You’re a beautiful man Alexander Cain, you make me feel things”, I quietly admit.

It’s been a month and a half and I’m already seeing myself falling in love with this man. Blame it on my non-existent dating experience, or whatever. But he really does make me feel things.

My heartstrings tug every time he looks at me or when he smiles at me. Even when he does little things like opening doors for me or getting me a care package when I’m on my period.

“Good or bad things?”, he asks. His hand moving up my hip.

I am trying hard to form words and not concentrate on the amazing, tingles that his hand conjure on my thigh.

“Good things”, it’s getting pretty hard to speak while his hand does that.

His touch is distracting.

“To be honest Miss Jones, you also make me feel things”. His voice is serious, a far contrast to the playful grin on his face.

My breath gets caught at the back of my throat, damn trachea closing up my windpipe.

“Good things?”

He nods as he leans over me, “Very good things”.

A growl comes from his throat as he yanks my legs towards him and turns us around. I find myself straddling him.

He looks up at me with a wide, sexy smile. “You’re so beautiful Rose”, he softly says to me. His hand cups my cheek. I lean into it, loving the feeling of his warm hand.

Warmth radiates on my skin as his other hand holds my thigh on his side. Looking down at him, into his eyes, I realise I’ve never been this invested in a boyfriend ever.

The thought scares and excites me simultaneously.

I grin at him as I lean forward onto his chest. My cotton covered chest makes contact with his naked one as we share a chaste kiss.

His hands firmly hold my hips as the kiss becomes deeper.

My curly, messy hair falling over our faces. A curtain that covers us from the inky, moonlight that streams into the bedroom.