Boss Daddy (Hot Bosses Book 3)

by Alexa Hart

  “You belong to me.” He tells me, thankfully pulling away from the stomach-churning kiss. “You always have. From day one. Who the hell did you think you were? Leaving me like that?” His hands are now both securely wrapped around my throat, squeezing just a tad too tight. My own hands fly to his as I gasp for air. My soft pink nails clawing at the skin of his now white knuckles in a useless attempt to push him off. But he doesn’t budge.

  In his eyes, I can see something strange. He is mesmerized. His eyebrows are raised slightly, causing a faint wrinkle in the skin of his forehead as his mouth goes completely slack.

  Panic begins to rise more swiftly in my chest; there is something in his eyes. Something I cannot place. Something I’ve never seen there before: joy.

  He is suffocating me, and it’s making him happy. I realize I am crying, only when the moisture reaches my fingers, traveling down my cheeks and over his hands to my own.

  Trying my hardest to struggle away from him, I make no progress. He has me pressed securely into one of the walls now, full body weight pressed into me to prevent me from escaping.

  “Give in baby. It’s okay. We'll be together in hell.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but I can hear the concern in it. Ha, that is funny. My vision is blurred at the corners, surely he’ll stop soon. Why lure me all the way out here just to kill me on sight? I thought.

  He won’t kill me; this is just a game. I think to myself. My sputtering begins to cease as I came to the shocking and horrifying realization that there is no air left in my lungs to choke on. His hands only squeeze at my throat tighter.

  I try desperately to mouth at him, to beg him to stop, to call out his name, but I can’t quite get any of it out.

  “What a shame.” He announces, noticing my muscles begin to go slack beneath him. “Sorry beautiful. I’m not much for lip reading.”

  But, just before my vision goes completely black, the faint sound of a window breaking interrupts Daniel’s trance, and I am splashed with something hot. I try desperately to open my eyes, to figure out what happened. But I can’t. Instead, I allow them to drift shut, my body falling to the ground with a heavy thump.

  Chapter 17

  Fitz

  A few hours ago

  My vision goes red as I read the text over and over. That bastard has my little girl, and he’s using her to get to Emily.

  “You can’t go. I won’t allow it.” I declare to Emily, turning to John in the foyer of my house.

  John and Emily exchange weighted glances with each other, before both turning to me.

  “No.” I say, “we’ll find another way.”

  “There is no other way Fitz. You don’t know him like I do. He’ll hurt her. If he even suspects that I’ve told you, or I’ve gone to the cops, he’ll hurt her. I can’t let that happen. Not because of me.”

  Emily wraps my hands in an iron clad fist. I struggle with the impossible decision. How am I supposed to do this?

  “I know you worry about me, Fitz. But please, just trust me on this. I need to go.” She pleads with me, her eyes wide and desperate. My own fill with tears as I nod. I know they are right, but I don't want to think about the horrifying consequences if any of this goes wrong.

  I let Emily leave, taking the fastest car in my collection, and booking it for Roanoke, Virginia. John and I followed closely after in the helicopter, parking it on the landing pad of a very gracious boarding school. We arrived to the neighborhood a couple of hours before Emily, giving us ample time to set up. Now, I am perched on a house across the street, my sight fixed directly on the side of Daniel’s head. I haven’t caught a single glimpse of Ella yet, but his hands are clasped around Emily’s throat. He is choking the life out of her.

  I try to get myself to hold off, to give her a few more seconds to execute the plan, to manipulate him. But I just can’t do it. Glancing once more at my scope, I train it on Daniel’s temple, and take the shot.

  Within a millisecond, he is dead on the ground, and Emily is spattered with his blood. Through the window, I can see her collapse.

  John is beside me in an instant, abandoning his own perch to see what happened. I don’t address him, instead leaving my things on the roof to rush across the street, barreling into the house with 911 already on the line.

  Emily is unconscious, but she has a pulse. John arrives just a few moments after me, sitting with her while I tear the house apart.

  “Ella!” I scream my daughter’s name over and over, running through the rooms. Finally, I rip open the basement door, barreling down the creaking steps. There, in the middle of the room, my daughter lays unconscious on the floor. Oh God, no.

  I race over to her, my finger searching her neck. Thank god. She has a pulse.

  For her not to have heard any of the commotion, he must have drugged her. I scoop her impossibly tiny body into my arms, carrying her upstairs to the already waiting ambulance.

  Chapter 18

  Alex

  The first thing I register, is that my throat is on fire. It protests and burns with each shallow breath I take, begging me for relief. My eyes drift open, and are greeted with harsh fluorescent lights.

  “Hey, you’re awake.” Fitz’s voice is soft and soothing. What happened?

  “Fitz?” Though my eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the light, my palm pads the bed, searching for his. He reaches out and takes it, gently squeezing my hand in his own.

  “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay. Ella’s okay. It’s all over now.”

  Ella? Why wouldn't Ella be okay? What happened?

  Oh.

  The memories come rushing back to me, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

  “What happened to Ella? Is she okay? Did you find her?” The questions stumble from my mouth despite thick protestations from my throat. My eyes are clearer now. I can tell that Fitz is sleep deprived. His normally refreshed face is sporting some severe bags under his eyes.

  “She’s fine, I promise. He drugged her. She doesn't remember anything other than that the new ‘security’ man,” Fitz puts air quotes around ’security’, “gave her juice when he picked her up, and she fell asleep in the car and woke up in the hospital. She’s going to be okay. How are you feeling?”

  Fitz ghosts his fingers over my throat. Years of experience with Daniel tells me that there must be some pretty awful bruises forming there.

  “My throat hurts.” I tell him truthfully. “What happened? How did it end?”

  Fitz contemplates my question for a moment, obviously trying to decide between giving me a straight answer, or a gentle one.

  “I shot him in the head.” I guess he went with straight. I nod at his sentence, tears of relief welling in my eyes. But also guilt. Fitz will have to live with that forever, because of me.

  “I’ve killed more men than I care to admit, Emily. And I’ve never been happy about it. Until last night. It made me happy to drain the life from him.” I stare at Fitz intently, searching his eyes for any sign of anything that resembles a cold-blooded killer, but I just see him.

  “I’m glad you did it.” I tell him truthfully. I will never again have to look over my shoulder and worry about him finding me. I will never again have to feel his lips on mine, or his hands around my throat. Tears of freedom, and joy, spill over my lower lashes.

  “Thank you, Fitz.” I tell him, “you saved me.” Fitz squeezes my hand, planting a soft as ever kiss on my forehead.

  “I’ll go get the nurse, okay?” He asks me.

  “Wait!” Suddenly remembering the conversation I wanted to have with him yesterday, I grip his hand, stopping him. “First, I have to tell you something. I’m not sure how you’ll react. I guess it’s never really something we talked about, but we could talk about it now.”

  Fitz studies me, his eyes trying to decipher the gibberish that tumbles from my mouth. As his gaze drifts down, it lands on my stomach. On my two hands, resting there instinctively, cradling the bump that has not yet formed.

  “You�
��re…?” Fitz can barely form the question. I nod, hesitantly.

  Fitz’s face bursts into an ecstatic smile, his arms encircling me, gently, but still with haste. “That’s the most amazing thing you could have said!”

  “Really?” I ask him, my voice coming out an octave higher than usual in my delight. I thought he’d be horrified at the revelation.

  “Really,” he tells me, planting a kiss on the tip of my nose, then pausing to plant several along my stomach.

  “Oh, I don’t want you to get too excited. It’s still very early, anything could happen. I haven't even taken a real test yet.”

  Grinning from his spot at my stomach, Fitz looks up at me, winking.

  “Well, then you’ll have to get better soon, so we can make absolutely sure you are.”

  I laugh at his corny joke, the vibrations of the joyous sound sending a fire up my throat that ignites tears in my eyes. Fitz disappears to find the nurse to ask her for pain medicine, but on his face is plastered the widest smile I’ve ever seen on anyone, ever.

  Chapter 19

  Emily

  “Do you Emily, take thee, Fitz, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts you?” I smile at Fitz beneath the sheer separation of my veil. It feels good to hear the world speak my name again. It took several haircuts, and dye jobs, but I finally look like me again. Under the veil, I gaze up at Fitz through my blue eyes, that are lined with bride shaded gold, and I smile at him.

  “I do.”

  Fitz grins, drinking me in.

  “Do you Fitz, take thee Emily, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts you?”

  “I do.” Fitz’s dark eyes drink me in, devouring me.

  I’d spent so much time worrying about whether or not he’d still love me as me, that I hadn’t stopped to think about how good it’d feel when he did.

  Fitz proposed as soon as I got home from the hospital, dropping to one knee, holding out a vintage style rose-gold engagement ring, calling me by my name, Emily.

  I didn’t even let him finish the sentence before I was on him, screaming my acceptance, my hands wrapped around his neck and my lips assaulting his.

  That was only a couple of weeks ago. I’d really hate to be a visibly pregnant bride. Bonnie drove up as soon as I called her, and she stayed the entire two weeks to help me heal, and to plan the wedding. Learning of my double life certainly came as a shock to her, and our other friends. But they were more supportive and understanding than I ever could have hoped for. Even now, as I turn, Bonnie and Luke are standing next to me at the alter, each dressed in all black.

  Mike and John are on the other side of Fitz, and Ella is standing in front of Bonnie, holding the rings.

  I slip the simple gold band on Fitz’s outstretched finger, and he follows suit.

  “With the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

  Fitz lifts my veil gently, revealing my face to him. Leaning down, he brushes my lips. Both of us are acutely aware that we are in public, and that Ella is standing less than a foot away from us. Best not to get carried away.

  In the crowd, I can hear Marie sobbing, along with Rosemary. Winnie certainly is not, but I could have sworn I saw her shed a tear a few days ago, when she saw me in my dress for the first time.

  All of us here, it feels right. Like we are a family. Not the kind of family you are born into, or the kind you’re groomed to take. We are the family that chose each other, and nothing could possibly be better than that.

  Chapter 20

  Emily

  “Wife.” Fitz mutters against my neck as he plants soft kisses there, licking up and down against the column of skin.

  “Husband.” I address him, my fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his slick black and white suit. I am damn near desperate to feel my husband inside of me.

  Fitz is patient, though. He catches my hands in his own, stilling them.

  “We’re going to take this slow, beautiful. I want to savor it. I want to savor you.”

  We are in the penthouse suite at the Plaza Hotel; Fitz rented it for the night. We leave on our honeymoon tomorrow, but neither of us thought we could wait to celebrate.

  “We will go slow and savor, but can’t I do that while staring at your perfect body?” I ask him, frustrated. Fitz chuckles, planting more kisses against my neck.

  “Decadent.” He mutters, licking the sensitive skin there.

  His fingers slowly undo the zipper on the back of my simple wedding gown, letting it fall to the floor in a pool around my feet. I turn towards him.

  I am wearing a white lace teddy, with matching garters, and thigh highs. Altogether, I was going for an “innocent” sort of look with the outfit. Although now, standing before him in nothing but this outfit, matching Louboutins, and red lipstick, I’m sure I look more like sin than anything else. Fitz drinks me in greedily, his fingers trace along the top hem of my teddy, then down the sides and back up once more.

  “You are perfect in every way, Wife.” I laugh at my now, pushover husband. If only he could see himself from my perspective.

  Fitz grips my upper arm, turning me, and forcing me to bend over.

  “But have you been a good girl?” Pulling the panties of my teddy aside, Fitz inserts one single finger into me, searching around for the pearl he placed there before the ceremony. It’s large, in terms of pearls. Attach to two chains that lock around my waist and then through my legs, with the pearl nestling at my opening with some slack. Fitz pushed it inside of me with assurances that I would be punished if I removed it.

  “It’s still there.” I inform him, wiggling my ass in the air for punctuation.

  “Oh, I know.” He tells me. He knows? How could he know?

  “I’ve been staring at your taut nipples through the thin fabric of that dress all afternoon beautiful. I knew you were wearing it, because they remained taut in even the driest of moments.” I chuckle to myself, of course Fitz had a way of knowing if I was wearing it or not.

  Apparently finding the pearl, Fitz gives a satisfying humph, replacing the crotch area of my teddy back where it belongs, and spinning to face me once more.

  “Good girl.” He kisses me. His fingers rise up to brush against my nipples. He is right, they are taut. They have been all day. It has been excruciating, but now, with his attentions centered on them, all I feel is pleasure.

  “Oh, Fitz.” I moan his name, arching into him, pushing my breasts into his waiting hands.

  “Be patient, beautiful. We have a long, incredible night ahead of us.” I nod at him. I know he is telling the truth.

  Fitz leans down to tweak my nipple between his teeth, atop the thin lacey fabric. The sensation is almost unbearable. It is hot, and sensual. I moan, arching forward, feeding myself to him. Eagerly, he switches sides, focusing his attentions on my neglected nipple.

  “You taste divine, beautiful.” Fitz compliments me while unzipping the teddy and pulling it from my body, giving himself a full view. I am now standing before him in only a garter belt, matching stockings, and matching shoes. He is free to touch me wherever, and however he wants.

  Standing straight, Fitz grips my hand, pivoting me so that my back collides with his chest. His arm snakes around my torso as he whispers in my ear.

  “You’re mine now beautiful, forever and always. Just as I am yours.” I nod into the sentiment, resting my head back into his chest as his hands continue their attentions. When I don’t respond, Fitz pinches my clit, tight. Not enough to seriously hurt, but certainly enough to get my attention.

  “I am yours,” I confirm, my hand ghosting over top of his, gliding it downward to where I really want him. “Just as you are mine.”

  Fitz complies with my silent request, running his fingers up and down my wet and ready slit. He doesn’t go any further than that, though. It is maddening.

  Fitz grips my chin, forcing our bodies to turn towards the m
irror at the far end of the room.

  “Look at us, beautiful.” My mouth drops open at the erotic sight, forming a perfect “O.”

  “Good girl,” he whispers in my ear, “watch me finger fuck you beautiful. This isn’t the only way I’m going to fuck you tonight. Oh no,” he breathes, “I’m going to have all of you tonight. And you will have all of me.”

  Fitz’s words are full of dark promise, and they fill me with anticipation. It isn’t the bad kind. It is light, and airy, like I can’t wait another moment to give myself to him fully, forever, in every possible way I know how.

  Turning me around, Fitz pulls me into a bruising kiss.

  “First, though, I am going to make love to my wife.” I smile against his lips, butterflies fluttering in my stomach at his corny remark. Fitz lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his strong torso as he climbs on the bed, placing me down beneath him. It is soft, and lavish, just like at home. Never disconnecting the kiss, Fitz begins to undress. First, he finishes undoing the buttons I hadn’t had the chance to get to, then he shrugs the dress shirt from him shoulders, lifting to discard the crisp white t-shirt that was hidden underneath. Next, he kicks his shoes off at the edge of the bed, each one falling to the floor with a loud thud. Next are his pants, only taking a moment to pull down. Although, when he undoes his belt, rather than discarding it with the pants as usual, he folds it in half and lays it on the bed next to us. That little silent move makes my heart beat faster. What is he going to do with it?

  And lastly, come the boxer briefs. I easily free him from them in one swift movement, and just like that, he is naked before me. My husband, the Greek god, slash, black ops soldier, slash, my savior and protector, is naked above me, planting soft kisses against the skin of my collar bone. I moan with the almost innocent contact, my hands tangling in his thick hair.