Gangster*

When Alex entered their bedroom, he found Abigail standing by the window.

She turned with a sheepish smile, and her heart tripped a little at the sight of him. His hair was disheveled and a little damp. His fingers were already busy unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the delicious and lithe muscularity of his godly body. His eyes, his lips, his face riveting in their sensuous perfection. This god of seduction was doing it again, and Abigail knew she could never ever get tired of watching him do this. Much more get used to it.

His gaze swept over her. Despite wearing a pajama pair, Alex's looked at her as if she was wearing a seductive nightgown.

"Did you see the boy?" Abi asked as Alex put his shirt on the chair and approached her.

"Yes, the brat is alone. The companions he was talking about are nonexistent." He answered.

"Nonexistent?"