CHAPTER 80: UNDER THE INFLUENCE

Alexia pov:

I sighed dramatically, kicking off my heels before sinking into the plush leather couch in Aiden’s office. If I was going to be dragged into his mess, I might as well make myself comfortable while waiting for my well-earned reward—wine.

The office was ridiculously spacious, filled with sleek furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The perks of being married to a billionaire, I guess.

I ran my fingers over my lips, still slightly swollen from earlier. Damn Aiden and his kisses. I should be mad at him, but my brain was still playing reruns of what happened in the hallway. I groaned, shaking my head. Nope. Not thinking about that.

Aiden had disappeared to handle whatever urgent business he had, leaving me alone in his office. Good. I needed a moment to gather myself.

Just as I was about to lie down completely and take a much-needed nap, the door suddenly flew open.

Tobias.

The poor guy looked like he had just run a marathon—face flushed, breathing slightly heavy, and eyes darting around in panic.

His gaze landed on me, and he froze. "Oh. You’re still here."

I waved lazily from my spot. "Obviously."

He hesitated, glancing toward Aiden’s empty desk like he was debating something.

"If you’re looking for Aiden, he’s not here," I said, stretching my arms. "But feel free to leave a dramatic message, and I’ll be sure to forget to tell him."

Tobias let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "This is... bad."

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What, did Liz faint again? Should I be concerned? Because I really don’t have the energy for another soap opera episode today."

He shook his head. "No, it’s not that. But it’s something you should—"

"Nope," I cut him off, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. "Not my problem. My only problem right now is waiting for my wine. So whatever business drama Aiden has going on, he can deal with it himself."

Tobias gave me a look like he wanted to argue, but then he sighed, muttering something under his breath before turning around and walking out, leaving me alone again.

I smirked. That’s what I thought.

I settled back into the couch, shutting my eyes.

Whatever crisis was happening, it definitely wasn’t my problem.

I watched Aiden as he walked in, his entire demeanor shifted back to his usual cold and calculating business mode. The Aiden who had kissed me senseless in the school hallway? Gone. It was like he had flipped a switch, and now he was all business.

For a moment, I thought, Well, there goes my wine.

But to my surprise, he held a wine bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. He made his way toward the couch, placing the glasses down before settling beside me.

"Apparently, we can’t leave the building," he said casually, opening the bottle.

I blinked at him. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Aiden sighed, running a hand through his hair before pouring the wine into our glasses. "The paparazzi got wind of Liz leaving the company. Now, they’re waiting for me to leave too, hoping to spin a new story to tarnish my name—again."

I frowned, picking up my glass. "What angle are they even trying to push now?"

"They already have a picture of Liz leaving," he explained. "So now, they need a picture of us leaving separately. Their narrative? That we had some kind of confrontation. That you came here, caught me with Liz, and she stormed out first. Which would conveniently fit the whole cheating scandal they were trying to create earlier."

I scoffed. "That’s ridiculous."

He smirked, taking a sip of his wine. "Welcome to my life."

I swirled the wine in my glass, thinking about the mess he constantly had to deal with. Not that I felt bad for him—this was his problem, not mine. But still, I understood how frustrating it must be.

"So," I said, glancing at him over the rim of my glass. "What’s the plan?"

"We wait," he said simply. "Stay inside until we find the right opportunity to sneak out without giving the media anything to work with."

I sighed dramatically. "So, basically, we’re trapped in here."

"For now."

I leaned back against the couch, crossing my legs. "Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, at least I have wine."

Aiden chuckled, clinking his glass against mine. "The wine I promised you."

I took a sip, letting the rich flavor settle on my tongue. "I guess you’re not all bad, husband."

He smirked but didn’t respond, his eyes flickering to my lips for a split second before he looked away.

Interesting.

At first, we drank in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The wine was smooth, expensive—of course, it was. Everything about Aiden screamed luxury, so why would his wine be any different?

I took another sip, watching him from the corner of my eye. His tie was slightly loosened, the first two buttons of his shirt undone. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, making him look effortlessly put together and annoyingly attractive.

Damn wine. It was making me notice things I really shouldn’t.

"You keep staring, Princess," Aiden murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "In your dreams."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he poured me another glass. "You’re on your third glass, by the way."

"So? You’re keeping count now?" I challenged, lifting my chin.

Aiden smirked. "Just making sure you don’t pass out on my couch."

I took the glass from him, ignoring the warmth in my cheeks that definitely wasn’t from the alcohol. "Please, I can handle my liquor."

That was probably my first mistake.

One glass turned into two. Two turned into four. And before I knew it, both of us were sprawled across his office couch, giggling at the most ridiculous things.

I was giggling. Me.

Aiden was no better. His usual cold, broody demeanor had melted into something more relaxed, his sharp edges dulled by the wine.

"Okay, okay," I said, wiping a tear from my eye, trying to catch my breath from laughing too hard. "But seriously, tell me... why do you always look like someone pissed in your coffee?"

Aiden raised an eyebrow, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "That’s just my face, sweetheart."

I snorted, taking another sip of my wine. "Nah, I think you practice it in the mirror."

He smirked lazily. "And I think you secretly love it."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my tongue when I realized how close he suddenly was.

Wait. When did he get this close?

His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his body angled toward mine, his eyes hooded and dark. The warmth of the wine, mixed with his intoxicating scent, made my head spin.

His gaze flickered down to my lips, and for a second—just a second—I forgot how to breathe.

"You keep doing that," he murmured.

"Doing what?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

"Licking your lips."

Oh.

I swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of every little movement. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, my skin tingling under his stare.

"Maybe you should stop looking," I teased, but it came out weaker than I wanted.

"Maybe you should stop tempting me," he shot back, his voice dangerously low.

The air between us shifted, thick with something I didn’t want to name.

Aiden leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my cheek. For a split second, I thought—no, I knew—he was going to kiss me.

And the craziest part?

I didn’t move away.

The wine had made everything hazy—the lines between what I should and shouldn’t do, the space between Aiden and me, the weight of our complicated relationship.

I should have moved away. I should have reminded myself that this was a marriage of convenience, that Aiden was just playing the role of a devoted husband for the media.

But I didn’t move.

His hand lifted, his fingers tracing a slow path down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I shivered at his touch, my breath catching in my throat.

"You’re drunk," Aiden murmured, though he didn’t sound very convinced himself.

I smirked, my head tilting slightly. "So are you."

He exhaled a short laugh, his hand coming to rest at my waist. My pulse quickened.

"I should stop," he muttered, but he didn’t move.

"Then stop."

I didn’t mean for it to come out as a challenge, but that’s exactly how Aiden took it. His jaw tightened, his grip on my waist firming just slightly, his eyes flickering with something dark and unreadable.

His lips brushed against mine, just barely, as if he was giving me one last chance to pull away. But I didn’t.

And then he kissed me.

Not the slow, teasing kisses from before. Not the kind meant for an audience. This was different.

This was fire.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue parting my lips without hesitation. I gasped, my fingers tangling into the fabric of his shirt as I let myself get lost in the way he kissed me—like he’d been holding back for far too long.

I wasn’t prepared for the way my body reacted to him. The heat that curled low in my stomach, the way my skin burned everywhere he touched.

"Aiden—" I barely managed to whisper his name before he silenced me with another kiss, his hands roaming, his breath hot against my skin.

He lifted me effortlessly, setting me down on his desk without breaking contact. Papers scattered to the floor, the sound barely registering in my wine-clouded mind.

"Tell me to stop," he rasped, his forehead resting against mine, his breaths uneven. "If you don’t want this—"

I grabbed his tie, pulling him back down to me. "Don’t stop."

That was all the permission he needed.

His mouth trailed down my jaw, to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, making me shiver. His hands pushed up the hem of my dress, fingers skimming over my thighs, teasing, exploring.

I gasped when he finally touched me where I needed him most, his fingers pressing against me through the thin fabric of my underwear.

"You’re soaked," he murmured, his voice thick with need.

"Shut up," I mumbled, but the way my body arched into his touch betrayed me.

Aiden chuckled, low and deep, before slipping his fingers beneath the lace, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

I moaned, biting my lip to muffle the sound, but he wasn’t having it.

"Don’t do that," he muttered, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles against my most sensitive spot. "I want to hear you."

I melted at his words, my head falling back as he continued his tormenting pace, his fingers stroking, teasing, bringing me to the edge and pulling back just before I could tip over.

"Aiden," I gasped, gripping his shoulders.

He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto mine. "Say my name again," he commanded, his voice husky, possessive.

I did. Over and over, as he pushed me further and further into oblivion.

And when he finally replaced his fingers with his mouth, I lost myself completely.