100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 158: The Proposition

Townhouse, Annecy

Sam looked at the slicked blond, jaw clenched. The last draw was that evening when she literally had the Hotel and room number of that Chemical Engineer attending the Ball.

Levi Jackson walked in casually, inviting her back home. His long arm snaked around her waist from behind, pulling her close to his side. The way he looked down at her warmly and the dangerous proximity when he leaned forward to whisper to her ear caused her mind to go blank for a second.

Her eyes dilated, his familiar hypnotic scent overwhelmed her senses, bringing her back to the memory of the reunion when he pushed her against the door.

"It had turned stale. We should head back to the Townhouse, Dear," he said, warm breath caressing her exposed skin, and she forgot how to speak.

It took her a second or two to return to her senses, just in time to catch a glimpse of the man looking at her in disgust as he departed.

And it dawned on her then that the Irishman had yet again spoiled her plan; she tore herself away from the blond who was grinning to himself.

She glared at him, opening her mouth to blame him, but she held her tongue, not wanting to make a scene, and she walked out. The blond followed after her, and the two retreated to Townhouse where they were having that argument.

Levi looked at her, "You’re upset with me because you couldn’t have coitus with a stranger?" he challenged an edge to his tone. He was angry too, angry that she was acting like the common folk, idiotic. Her eyes narrowed at him, "You know that’s not it; it’s you doing it constantly." She said.

"Just bloody admit it." She spat, stomping her feet as she walked to the kitchen to get something to drink, something preferably with more than 10 % alcohol.

Levi followed behind, watching her as she moved to uncork the champagne in a livid stupor.

"You’ve been tense, easy to anger. Swimming and running hadn’t been working--and you’ve been especially concupiscent today; flushed skin, shinier hair, ampler breasts, increased basal body temperature; all signs of Fertility. And it matches your ovulation cycle." Levi started.

Sam turned to him, "Please....just shut up Levi", she asked, mostly demanded, gulping down the champagne down her throat. Parts of her found his knowledge of her Ovulation Cycle disturbing. But it did make sense since her severe episode of menstrual cramps a year ago. He had made it his business to make sure there’s ice cream when she needed it and be wary of her mood when it’s that time of the month. He did return home with a black eye---something the two silently decided not to tell anyone where it came from.

Levi took another step entering the kitchen, watching her take a lungful of breaths as she leaned back on the kitchen counter. Attempting to calm herself--something even she couldn’t understand. Why she was so mad in the first place was unlike her, especially something so trivial. He’d done worse things after all, and most times, she wouldn’t bat an eye. However, her temper, she could only blame was from hormones.

Instead of doing what she asked, he approached her, eyes studying her closer.

"You’ve been notably annoyed with me lately, to a point you’ve been finding ways to even avoid me some days," he said with a frown.

She clenched her jaw, "Stop it." She demanded, angry. She didn’t like how his eyes studied her; she didn’t like what he might see.

Yes, he was right. She had been avoiding him, mostly the physical contact; his testosterone was messing with her brain chemistry.

So, she tried the ’out of sight out of mind’ approach for days. Because even the sight of him stretching, the craning his neck, and the loosening of his tie. And how he’d remove his suit jacket in her presence, his tight shirt stretching as he moved, shaping his torso and arms underneath, had been triggering impure thoughts.

But the problem was she had a photographic memory, and even in the days that she had avoided him whenever she closed her eyes, she could still see the blond Irishman. And truth be told, during the times she ’entertained’ herself--- these movements haunted her mind --it ruined the mood constantly.

Not because it didn’t arouse her. It was the fact that it did that she just had to stop because it felt wrong. She had mentally debated throwing her ’toys’ since Levi Knight Jackson ruined wanking for her.

The Irishman’s eyes rested on hers, "Eyes dilated." he said, "you’ve been suffering in celibacy for so long that even my presence pains you. I’m afraid you might choose unwisely just to satiate your carnal need." he admitted, but that wasn’t the only reason. "So, you are doing it on purpose." She spat, absolutely annoyed.

"You’re blinded with lust," He said, earning a scowl from Sam; she was about to retort when he continued. "You didn’t see that doctor was actually married; you didn’t ask questions-- you just wanted to get some." He lectured. "Nor did you see the likely possibility that man at the Ball had some serious fetishes leaning to borderline nutter. You should be thanking me." Levi added, recalling the pungent stench of leather on the man, something he was surprised she missed considering her sense of smell was akin to a bloodhound.

Finding logic in his defense, she asked more calmly, "what about that guy in the pub?"

"I just didn’t like him. He looked like a lumberjack that was too lazy to shave." Levi admitted, and it wasn’t a coincidence that he dropped by that time. Alex, the barkeep, was keeping an eye on her for him; he was one of their ’Samson shippers’ after all.

Sam sighed, pouring herself another drink; she would have to sleep alone tonight, again. And she thought she’ll find someone decent there--have some ’out of the country sex’ since the press might pick up her scent if she so much as step foot in a man’s home, other than Levi’s. She finished her glass in one swift motion, and he watched pondering, she was still clearly displeased and opted to drown her agony in alcohol.

"I have a proposition."

Sam turned to Levi when he spoke, and she gave him a curious look that resembled a frown. She honestly had enough of him for one night; she wanted him to shut up.

"I--" he swallowed, pondering on what he was about to present to her. He wondered if she was ready to hear it, because once the words came out of his mouth he couldn’t take it back. Yet, in a further examination, it made perfect sense to him. It was now or never.

"I fancy you," he said, and she blinked a few times unresponsive. She wondered if she just had an auditory hallucination. Was she drunk already?

"You heard me," he said, knowing the gears inside her head were rolling. "I fancy you," he repeated, hoping it would dawn on her. The second her eyes widened in realization of what he just said, he continued. "So, I have a proposition," he said, catching her full attention. "I would make a perfect sexual partner," He said confidently, causing Sam to choke on her drink, going on a coughing fit when the alcohol went to the wrong pipe.

She looked at him, "WHAT?" Sam asked, baffled; he was talking crazy. Levi had gone mad. Did he eat one of those muffins in the Ball? She told him not to have any!

Levi took a step forward, shrinking the space between them, "I’m even willing to start from FWB if it helps you make sense of your feelings." he started. "What I’m asking is what has gone into your crazy mind even to propose such an idea?" Sam ranted, shocked, failing to keep her calm, but the idea he placed on the table was enough to make her want to take on serial killers instead. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"I am well aware that I am your type based on your track record. And I am quite certain that you find me attractive enough, to induce some response from your Autonomic Nervous System, specifically your sexual arousal." Levi gibbered.

Sam scoffed in disbelief. Does he bloody know what he’s suggesting? Was he drunk? But she was the one holding a glass of champagne.

"You disagree?" He asked, surprised at the thought of her not finding him attractive enough. Most women find him aesthetically pleasing and based on the responses she made from the previous weeks against his ’accidental’ physical contacts. A discreet experiment he did to collect data on her was conclusive that she did find him sexually appealing. "No, I do not. I do find you attractive. But that is not the point, Levi." She said he frowned, baffled. "What is the point then?" he asked. If it wasn’t the sexual attraction, which was the vital requirement in his mind, then what is the problem?