For Her Protection: An Alpha Romance

by Amber Bardan

  She slumped against him and his lips left hers. The hand in her panties withdrew and his arm surrounded her again. Her breathing regulated, although her cheeks still burned.

  “Champagne?” the waitress asked.

  Charlie looked around the room as Connor accepted the drinks. No one glanced their way, no one had noticed. He handed her a tall glass of sparkling gold liquid.

  “Cheers,” he said and clinked his glass against hers.

  Cheers indeed…

  She lifted her glass and drank deeply. Connor’s still full and cooling plate of food remained untouched. She picked up the fork she’d dropped and filled it then turned to Connor.

  “Here,” she whispered.

  Connor’s eye’s flared for a moment but he ate the food she offered him.

  She watched him chew. The slow movements of his jaw. As she filled the fork again another kind of longing rose in her—one she didn’t care to admit.

  We could protect each other.

  TEN

  A fucking perfect Sunday morning. Connor leaned in the doorway of Charlie’s en-suite bathroom. She stood at her basin, wearing a white bra and panties, dragging a brush through the dark waves rippling almost to her elbows. He took advantage of the view—his gaze travelled over her smooth calves, luscious thighs, the round underside of her ass-cheeks peeking out from her underwear. He shifted, blood flowing to the exhausted length of his cock.

  You’d think it’d be worn out by now. After the workout he’d put it through that morning—his dick should be fucking sated. But no…one look was all it took. There was a chemical reaction between them. Something instinctive. Something his body recognized the moment he’d clamped eyes on her.

  Her gaze caught his in the mirror, and her movements slowed. A sheepish smile pressed her lips to the side. Her cheeks glowed pink. How could she blush after everything she’d let him do to her—or maybe the blush was because of what she’d let him do…

  She picked up a hairtie and slipped it around her wrist then scooped her hair to the back of her head. He moved toward her and ran his palms down the stretch of bare skin at her sides, her raised arms exposed. Her clear laugh filled the bathroom and she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her middle and brushed his lips across the fragrant skin on her shoulder. She dropped her hands and placed them over his where they rested on her belly. Soft waves of hair tumbled down and brushed his cheek.

  Connor turned his face and nuzzled behind her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. He slid his hands from under hers and stroked her hair between his fingers.

  Her cheek sucked in. “We’re going to be late for my aunt’s party.”

  He studied her reflection in the mirror. She’d been a little twitchy since she’d told him about this on Friday. The same restless discomfort he’d see her display before she had press conferences. “Any reason you don’t want to go?”

  She didn’t say anything, just pursed her lips then picked up the brush again. Connor moved to stand beside her. He squeezed a thick line of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and brushed his teeth, watching her smooth moisturizer over her face with her fingertips then add a blob of makeup. He spat and rinsed. She swirled something pink on her cheekbones with a brush.

  He wiped his face with a hand towel then smeared cream from a can over his jaw. She applied color to her eyelids then a line of black to frame her eyes. He got lost watching her.

  Especially when she opened her mouth and put a gloss on her lips that made them look wet.

  Her gaze met his in the mirror and she paused.

  Connor lifted his chin and scraped his razor from the middle of his neck to his chin. How come everything she did fascinated him? The way she moved, the way she spoke, the things she held back, the things she revealed, the little war she fought between herself and what she wanted people to see. Always, always he just wanted to sink right through and reach the real Charlie he’d held in his arms. She stepped back and smacked her lips together. Her gaze flickered to him, and gave him the same sweep of appreciation he’d bestowed on her before she turned and walked out of the bathroom.

  He grinned then swiped the remaining beard off his face with the razor. He slapped on cologne and strode into the bedroom. Charlie stood near the bed, pulling the straps of a dress over her shoulders. She reached backwards for the hanging sides of the dress.

  Connor moved in behind her and grasped the zipper, and slid it up smoothly.

  Her back straightened under his hands and she brushed her palms down along the sides of the dress, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the loose skirt.

  “Thanks,” she whispered and turned.

  He drank her in, needing to hold the picture of her in her pretty sundress as a snapshot in his mind. He swallowed. “How should I dress for this?”

  “Just jeans and a nice shirt. Maybe that one you wore the other day to work—the pale-blue one.” She tucked the hair on the left side of her face behind her ear. “That looked nice, maybe that and your grey jacket.”

  “Been paying attention to my wardrobe?” His lips twitched. “You liked that did you?”

  She rolled her eyes a little too dramatically. “We’re going to be late.”

  He tugged the towel from his waist and pretended not to notice her lingering look at his ass. Looked like he wasn’t the only one with a healthy appreciation for an ass. He tugged on underwear and then went to the guestroom where he’d hung his clothes. He dressed and then pulled the sleeves of his grey jacket up his arms and looked in the mirror. Then it hit him.

  She fucking dressed me.

  Back when he’d taken on clients, he’d had to go unnoticed. Dressed for the occasion. But, Charlie had dressed him like a girlfriend. He smoothed the lapels and grinned at his reflection. Yeah, she was three-quarters taken and didn’t know it.

  ELEVEN

  Charlie washed her hands, scrubbing sticky cinnamon residue from her fingers. She hadn’t intended on staying so long but somehow she’d gotten conned into helping bake cinnamon scrolls with Aunt Bess.

  As much as she had secret feels for baking the plan had been to drop off the present then get the hell out before anyone she didn’t want to see showed up. And considering Uncle Frank only ranked three on that list, it was clearly the list of freaking delight…

  She groaned and looked in the mirror. Connor was right now sitting at Aunt Bess’ table being stuffed full of baked goods. Aunt Bess who she’d fibbed to about Connor being her boyfriend because the last thing she needed was the well-meaning family matriarch getting all paranoid about her safety.

  Which would happen if Uncle Frank showed up before they left. As sister to both her uncle and her father, Aunt Bess formed a strange neutral ground that had the tendency to swing one way or the other when it suited her, or to cry Switzerland when it didn’t.

  Uncle Frank suing her—no opinion on that one, but one word about Charlie being in danger and she’d be encouraging that whole ‘ban Charlie from work’ threat Frank tried to use on her.

  She leaned her hands against the sink and bowed her head. Steps echoed, dull thuds on the tiles behind her.

  “Charlie?”

  The voice caused a wave of dread to curdle her belly. Her head snapped up and she met pale eyes in the mirror. “Simon?”

  His gaze ran over her rear. She turned, words emptying from her head. There were so many things she’d wanted to say to him—wanted to scream at him. But now all she could think was that he seemed shorter than she remembered. Even so she couldn’t block out the gut-deep pain eating her insides at the sight of him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Aunt Bess as Switzerland case-in-point. She never took sides when one niece’s fiancé became her other niece’s boyfriend.

  He stepped closer, backing her into the sink. “Don’t look at me like that, Charlie.”

  He reached for her face.

  She jerked her head back. “Nope.”

  Nope, nope and a truckload more nope. H
e’d lost the right to touch her.

  His gaze grew icy as she’d seen it do so many times. Except these days she didn’t have to put up with the tantrum that followed. That was now completely Joyce’s problem.

  “I’d hoped we could keep things civil.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  His mouth twitched. “Joyce wanted me to.”

  He paused and she recognized the nervous jerk of his chin. He had something more to say.

  “Joyce and I are getting married.”

  The pain turned knife sharp, cutting deep enough to stop her from breathing. This was the betrayal she couldn’t cope with, the one that lost her a cousin. Because Simon—screw him, she was so much better off without him.

  But Joyce she couldn’t pretend she didn’t miss.

  “Then pass my condolences on to her.” She barged around him for the door.

  A woman stood in the way, a hand pressed to her belly, brown eyes wide.

  Joyce stepped in. “Charlie, I’m sorry if you’re still upset about how everything happened, but Simon and I are engaged and you’re going to have to get used to it.”

  Joyce moved to Simon’s side, her blond locks shifting over her shoulders. He put his arm around her waist. “I thought you’d have moved on by now.”

  “I have moved on. I’m seeing someone.” A lump rose in her throat. “That doesn’t mean I have to accept what you did.”

  “You don’t sound like someone who’s moved on,” Simon snarled.

  Joyce looked from Simon to Charlie, mirroring his skepticism in the rise of her forehead. Charlie’s shoulders hunched. They both thought she was lying. But one thing was for sure—only one man had any claim on her now.

  Connor strode through the house, having been directed by Aunt Bess on where to find Charlie. Murmurs hummed down a hallway and he approached the sound.

  “You don’t sound like someone who’s moved on.”

  He stiffened. A snide male tone was not what he’d expected to hear. He stepped into the doorway, his gaze taking in the couple facing Charlie.

  Her back faced him, straight and bristling with so much tension it made his joints ache. She twitched for a moment before he tugged her against him.

  “There you are, baby.” His voice filled the washroom.

  Charlie relaxed into him and her hand gripped the back of his shirt where it tucked into his waistband. He studied the man, the way his gaze flicked from him to Charlie, his neck coloring, lips thinning. Connor squeezed his fist, resisting the temptation to simply knock the fucker out for daring to look at his woman as if he had some claim on her. For daring to make her uncomfortable.

  She didn’t introduce him, just looked up at him and smiled. Smiled only for him. “Let’s go find Aunt Bess.”

  They walked out of the washroom. Connor caught a look at the silent blonde, her lips pursed as if she wanted to say something, but she glanced at the man beside her and her lips smoothed.

  TWELVE

  Charlie opened her eyes. Unfamiliar warmth surrounded her, lulled her back into sleep. A weight rested over her hip, a hand cupped her breast. Connor’s scent surrounded her. Crisp cologne, soap and a hint of sweat.

  And boy had she made him sweat last night.

  She sighed and placed her hand over his on her chest. Time to get up. They were already later for work than her schedule could handle.

  His grip tightened, as if he had no intention of letting her go. To prove his intentions, he shifted his hips at her rear, his stiff morning cock showing her just how he’d like to spend the rest of their morning.

  “We’re late,” she whispered.

  He nudged the hair off her neck with his nose and brushed his lips against her skin. She shivered. The bastard had already figured out every sensitive place on her body and had no qualms exploiting every one of them.

  “You’re going to be later,” he said then scraped his teeth against her flesh.

  Her breath caught in the back of her throat.

  “Really, we need to go…”

  He squeezed her nipple with his thumb and finger then rubbed it deliciously. Pleasure tightened her core.

  “Take the day off.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered then rolled over, unable to resist the slide of her skin against his. She hooked her knee over his waist but before she could breathe she was on her back, arms pinned over her head. He buried his cock in her—no preparation, no hesitation. Just one deep thrust that impaled her fully.

  Fuck.

  He’d known—known how wet she’d be, that her body couldn’t resist him. He knew her reactions. Connor looked down at her. His eyes sparkled. Triumph and raw satisfaction made him the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Even if she could have resisted, even if her pussy wasn’t throbbing—begging to be fucked—she wouldn’t stop him.

  His fingers wrapped around her wrists grounded her, made the world shrink to this space. They kept her in place when so much seemed out of control. He moved and her thoughts snapped. Focus narrowed to the searing pleasure building between her thighs. His expression changed, heated as he thrust into her slickness. The veins in his neck grew more pronounced, his control a visible thing. Connor might hold her down but she had just as powerful of an effect on him. His guard slipped around her and only she could make him lose control.

  Her insides hummed and she bucked against him, pushed herself against his erection, rocked against it until his butting cock turned her inside out with pleasure. He released her hands and gripped her thighs, pushed them to her chest, exposing her to him further, angling her so he slid into her that much deeper.

  She moaned, fisting the sheets. He took her hard. Took her as if he were imprinting himself on her. He stretched her with each pump, completed her, filled her and made her whole. His hips knocked hers, his skin batted against her skin, every stroke of his cock radiated pleasure into every fiber of her body. Her thighs tensed, and her stomach tightened. She held her breath as her nerves hitched closer and closer to shattering.

  “Come for me, Charlie.”

  His hoarse command seized her. Her pussy contracted and she spasmed. Waves of bliss rolled over her. She shook but he continued to surge inside her. She twisted and he held her in place, stopped her from dissolving into the mattress. Her orgasm wracked her, on and on, smashing through every cell. Her ears rang, her throat hurt. She screamed but didn’t hear the sound.

  Connor’s fingers dug into her thighs, his cock hardened. He rocked into her while she quivered. She panted, her lungs raw. He pulled out, gripped his cock and ran its thick head between her folds, over her sensitive clitoris.

  She twitched, letting out a desperate sound. He dragged his cock higher then jerked and spurted onto her belly with a growl. The damp length of his shaft dug into her pubic bone and warmth seeped over her skin.

  She couldn’t have felt more claimed.

  Connor fell forward, braced himself over her with his elbows and rested his damp forehead against hers. She breathed in his uneven breath, wrapped her arms around him and held on. The intimacy of the moment devastated her. More so than when he’d been inside her—more than sex. His forehead on hers, his cum on her belly, and most of all the way his breath shook. She’d seen and felt him come undone…

  His breath evened and he kissed her, dragging his lips over hers. She rubbed his back and opened her mouth, drowning in the gentle touch. Sweet and heady, like a shot of coffee liqueur after a sinful meal.

  They rolled to the side and she pressed her face into his neck, his morning beard just rough enough to scrape her cheeks. He held her, stroking her hair. She could live off this, forgo food—a dose of this could sustain her for days.

  But the real world already intruded. She could almost hear the clock next to her bed tick, shouting that she’d be late for work if she didn’t get ready immediately.

  “We need to get up.” Charlie placed a kiss on Connor’s pulse.

  He held her tighter, and ran his fingers over her ass. “
Stay home today.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I can’t.” A sliver of guilt slid down her chest. Calling in sick wasn’t a luxury she could afford. For the first time she actually wished it was.

  “Don’t you want to stay with me?” He gripped her ass, rocked her hips against him.

  Her eyes snapped open. A heavy sensation hit low in her belly and her heart jumped, beating a little stronger. The familiarity of the words made her skin prickle. She’d heard these lines before. Knew what the hell they meant and what they led to. How many times had she heard “if you loved me you’d put me first”?

  Those statements started with guilt but ended with control.

  She pushed out of his arms and rolled to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Charlie?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. He spread out on her bed, huge body exposed. Why’d he really want her to stay home today?

  He wasn’t the needy child Simon had been.

  Her heart beat faster. A board meeting was scheduled for today. One Frank would very much love her to miss…

  She stood and went to her dresser and pulled out fresh underwear. “Get up, Connor. I’ve got work to do.”

  The bed creaked but she didn’t turn around, just strode to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, locking it for good measure. He spoke but she turned on the water and drowned out the sound.

  What the hell had she been thinking? Falling for Connor could cost her everything.

  ***

  Connor stood in front of Frank’s desk, hands clasped behind his back.

  “Anything else I should know about, Mr. Crowe?”

  He knew the question was coming. When he’d been watching her from a distance, these Monday reports hadn’t provided much conflict of interest—Frank employed him, but Charlie was his to protect.

  Reporting on her safety hadn’t compromised on one or the other.

  Until now.

  He couldn’t lie—he’d always known part of the reason he was hired was so that Frank could ask questions he wanted answers to.