Emma's words had stung even as he walked down the street, away from the small publishing company that Emma had worked at. Clenching his teeth he took note that the words that had been uttered had dug deeper than any other insult that he had ever heard before.
And it hurt like a son of a bitch.
Never in his life had he ever been hurt as much as what he felt then, it traveled to his heart, and seemed to squeeze it hard in its invisible hands, and that hurt penetrated even deeper as he saw the look of disgust in her eyes when he saw her in the employee lounge.
Hell, it hurt a lot less when his own family, who are extremely religious; kicked him out and made it quite clear that they did not want to deal with the sins that he was committing. All-in-all they were ashamed to even consider him their son.
Of course five years ago he was young and it hurt then, but looking back, he had never regretted taking the path of becoming a pornstar.
Well, that was until now.
Alexander's nostrils flared in frustration and in confusion. Why? Why the hell did he feel this way about a woman that he didn't even know, hell he wouldn't have known her name if it wasn't for her friends from the previous night. And for some unknown reason, he wanted to apologize for his ill-mannered remarks that clearly hurt the young woman.
Earlier that morning when he was talking to what's her face? Shelly-Ann he felt oddly out of place and felt like a stalker.
Perhaps, to be technical he was acting like one—going to her work and all. He just couldn't shake the guilt that crept up on his the night before, and almost suffocating him as the early morning hours ticked by. He wanted to apologize, and there he was going to do just that.
Well, he mused. I sure fucked that opportunity to hell.
Running his fingers through his thick, slightly curly blond hair, clenching his eyes shut in the process, but when he did, all he could see was hazel eyes boring into his, they screamed disgust, even though Emma didn't speak the words. She looked on him like he was some incurable disease.
And in that moment he felt disgusted with his own self.
He really hadn't a clue as to why he felt like that for. And what surprised him the most was that he really was willing to quit his, surprisingly, good paying job just so he could see Emma's smile.
As he entered his condo and kicked of his boots, shrugging off his custom made leather jacket onto the back of his computer chair he contemplated on what he should do. He knew how important first impressions are, and he of course had to royally screw that up.
Dragging himself to the counter he poured himself a glass of rum and coke and headed over to his recliner. Upon staring up at his spackled ceiling his mind kept wondering back to the previous night. No matter what he did, that night came back to forefront of his mind.
His guilt coming back full force as he could vividly picture her uncomfortable form from where he was located at the bar with his mates. And the changes in expressions at his words: Surprise, hurt, and anger.
He growled. "Why the fuck do I feel this way?"
Of course only he could answer that question, but that question he felt seemed to be so far away from being answered.
And that didn't help a God Damned thing.
Alexander gave a slight smile though, seeing her in that small dress definitely showed off her luscious, feminine curves. As his eyes landed on her last night he couldn't deny—even now, the sexual and physical attraction to her.
He knew that he had to make things right, because God only knew why he wanted to get to know her.
He felt a bit scared. He wondered if it could possibly be love. No. It was way too soon for that; heavy infatuation, perhaps? Maybe. All he knew was that she was going to be one hell of a challenge.
Most women that he have met, especially in his line have always jumped at the chance to be with him.
He guessed that was what most women wanted; a night filled with satisfying, kinky sex until the break of dawn.
He realized that he was being biased and arrogant.
He sighed then, even though he enjoyed the job that he did, it never filled the missing hole—the hole in where he could share his entire being to the one who was destined to be his.
Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his thoughts he pushed away and peered out the window, watching the lights of the buildings and vehicles below.
He couldn't deny the sexual and mental attraction that he had felt seeing her that night. And winning her over was going to be extremely difficult; hopefully not impossible. He supposes he would have to try harder.
Blowing out a breath, and rubbing his rough hands over his face, he knew that he was going to have to try harder to capture the attention of Emma because he knew that she had—as unintentionally as it may have been had captured his.
And he would be damned if he was just going to let the quiet, yet fiery woman go. Alexander Marsh knew she was going to be a challenge, but a challenge he was going to win.