The Alpha's Assistant & The Dom Next Door

by Michelle Love

  “I didn’t mean that. I’m sure you’re important to lots of people. But I don’t have time for people to be important to me. If you spent one day with me at work, you’d understand, completely.”

  “Is your job so encompassing that there’s absolutely no room for a person to share your life with? Because if that’s so, then you should change things around. There are plenty of rich people in this world who have time for families.”

  “Would you stop talking about things like families and sharing lives together?” he shouts. “You’re sparking things inside me that have me wanting to run as fast as I can away from you.”

  I level my eyes on his. “Are you afraid of me, Cyprian?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I merely don’t want to talk about things that are never going to happen for me. Because I don’t want them to. I don’t want a wife or even a fucking girlfriend. I sure as hell don’t want an entire family. God knows I have no time for all of that. And no want for it!”

  “Then what are you doing, sitting in this car with me? You shouldn’t even be talking to me. I strive for all the things you don’t want any part of. So, why are you sitting here?”

  “That’s an excellent question.” He gets out of my car, slamming the door behind him. I watch him walk all the way to his front door and he slams it behind him too.

  I suppose that means this is over…

  Book 3: The Seducer

  Chapter 1

  CYPRIAN

  The lights of the last business in town, before we leave the Clemson city limits, catch my eye, the way they’ve done every night for the last week. It’s Friday and I’m going home. I’m not in the mood to party at all.

  The damn woman haunts me. Day and night, she’s there, in the back of my mind. How she managed to squirm into my head is still a mystery. But she’s there, going nowhere.

  I’ve tried hard to forget her and go on but it seems impossible. Her words echo in my brain, ‘you will die a lonely old man.’

  Will I? Is that my fate? Does it have to be?

  My driver, Ashton, slows down as we approach the store she works at. A car is turning in front of us, causing us to stop and just as we do, she walks out of the store, coming to the gas pumps with a rag and a bottle of cleaner.

  Her eyes dance as she greets one of the customers who’s pumping gas into their car. It’s a man, she’s talking to. The tall man is smiling like crazy at her and she’s unaware of the fact he finds her attractive.

  “Pull in, Ashton,” I say as I watch her smiling and laughing as the guy regales her with his wit.

  “Are you sure, sir?” he asks me as he looks into the rearview mirror with raised brows.

  “I am.” I run my hand over my Armani slacks then brush my hair back and sigh as we pull into the parking lot. I don’t need anything, except to hear her voice.

  Once he parks, I sit and wait, watching her as she cleans the gas pumps and talks to the man who hasn’t left yet, even though he’s done pumping his gas. She’s oblivious to how he’s watching her every move.

  Three short steps he takes and he’s standing behind her as she’s kneeling, wiping the bottom of the pump. His hand moves over her shoulder and she turns to look up at him.

  Her head is shaking and his is nodding. He’s asking her out, I bet. My heart is pounding as I wait to see what she does.

  “Do you want me to get out and get you something, sir?” Ashton asks me.

  “No. I’m getting out when she goes back inside.” I can’t take my eyes off her. I haven’t seen her at all since Sunday when I walked away from her.

  I was angry at her for judging me and my life. But that anger turned to contemplation as I thought about how I’ve been living. She wasn’t wrong about anything she said about me.

  I am hollow.

  Being less than perfect is a thing I knew I was. But I never knew I was less than human and selling myself short with how I’ve lived and have always thought I’d live my life.

  Camilla is moving away from the man now, looking over her shoulder and saying something to him as she goes and he watches her. I open the back door of the Mercedes, Ashton picked me up in, and step out of the car.

  Her eyes move to look at me and she stops in the middle of the parking lot. Then she ducks her head and hurries to go inside. I meet her at the door and open it for her.

  She says nothing to me as she moves past me. I follow her, closely, staying right behind her as I’m sure she means to hide from me, in the ladies’ room perhaps.

  I’m wrong about that, I see as she gets to the cooler and reaches out for the handle. “Stop,” I say. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I hold it tight enough that she can’t get away from me.

  “Why?” she asks as she doesn’t bother to turn back to look at me.

  “Because I want to talk to you.” I take her by the shoulders and turn her around.

  Her eyes are bright with defiance. “There’s nothing to talk about. You want something I won’t give. End of subject. Moving on.” A slight tremor moves over her red lips then she licks them.

  She’s upset and I am to blame, once again. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Being who you are?” she asks as she shakes her head. “Don’t be. It’s me who’s sorry. Sorry, I ever spent a minute with you. That was my fault, though. I could read you like a book. I knew your modus operandi. It was me who sold all those condoms to your driver for you to use on countless women. It was foolish of me to think you wanted me for any more than a one night stand.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” I tell her and watch her eyes go hard.

  Her body tenses even more as her face goes red. “What the fuck do you want me to do about that, Cyprian? Wait, I know. Fuck you, right? Do that, so your mind can be rid of me and you can think about more important things. You’re out of luck. I’m not a woman who does that kind of thing. Seems you’ll be stuck thinking about me.”

  “I deserve that,” I say as I hold her hot gaze. “Come to my house after you get off work. We should talk.”

  Slowly, she shakes her head. “You are insane if you think I’m going to go to your house, so you can attempt to make me feel sorry for you and your thoughts about me and how they’re messing up your life.”

  “Have you thought about me, at all?”

  Her eyes cut to the side and her body sags a bit as she sighs. “It doesn’t matter.” She looks back at me. “So, let me help you find your Friday night condoms, Cyprian.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t need any. I’m not going to my father’s party tonight. And most likely, I still won’t be feeling like going tomorrow.”

  She grins as she looks down and moves her tennis shoe over the white floor. “I see.”

  I can see she’s happy I’m not going and it prompts me to ask about the man I saw her talking to outside. “Did that guy ask you out?”

  “Huh?” she asks as she looks up at me. “How did you know that?”

  “I was watching you. So, you told him what?” I bite the inside of my cheek to hold my tongue in case she tells me something I don’t want to hear.

  “I turned him down. He’s not my type.” She looks away as the door chime takes her attention. “I need to get back to work. Surely, you understand that.”

  Dropping my hands off her shoulders, I release her and nod. “I understand. If you change your mind about tonight, give me a call.” I slip my card with my personal cell number on it, out of my pocket and put it into the pocket of her green smock. “I am sorry, Camilla.”

  With a nod, she leaves me, standing by the cooler as some woman takes a soft drink out of it and looks at us. The woman’s eyes move to meet mine. “You two okay?”

  I shake my head and turn to leave. My feet move, slowly. I don’t want to leave her. I want to hear her say she’ll come to me in a little while. I want her to forgive me and I want to tell her all the things I’ve been thinking about and ask her what she’s thought about.

  Instead, I’m
walking past the checkout counter where she’s ringing up another customer. And older man who’s looking at her as her eyes are drooping. “You look blue, sugar. What’s got you so sad?”

  Her brilliant blue eyes move to me and I flinch as it makes me feel terrible. She’s right, I am a terrible person. I give her one last, pleading look and she looks back down. “I’m not sad for me, Bernie. I’m sad for someone else. Someone who doesn’t understand what life’s about.”

  With that, I leave the store and go get into my car. “Take me home, Ashton. This was a huge mistake.”

  He keeps his mouth shut as we leave the parking lot and head home. But his eyes look at me off and on, in the mirror and I know he wants to say something.

  “You have something you’d like to tell me, Ashton?”

  “It’s just that I told you this would happen, sir. She’s not like the women you’ve known. I’m afraid your father, hiring escorts to fill his parties, has left you with the idea all women are that free with who they give themselves to. That young woman isn’t an escort. She’s just a normal girl and wants normal things.”

  “That woman is far from normal, I expect. And you are right about me not knowing a thing about normal women and how to interact with them. So, I will read and educate myself on how to do that. Because I can’t think of anything else, except how I can see that woman again. And have her stop being mad at me. I long to see her beautiful smile. I long to hear her laughter. I long to feel her skin pressed against mine.”

  “Maybe you can read up on things and figure it all out, sir. You are one smart man, after all,” he says and then I find we’re home and I get out of the car.

  My heart is heavy and my mind is full. I have got to find a way to get her to forgive me.

  I want a chance with her, a real chance…

  Chapter 2

  CAMILLA

  Locking up the store, I find my hand shaking as I hold his card in the other hand. He’s all I could think about after he came to the store.

  He’s all I’ve thought about this whole week.

  The way he walked away from me on Sunday was jarring. He was cold in an instant and made the decision to walk away, so quickly. I believe he has that ingrained in him. Hasty retreats when things aren’t going the exact way he wants them to.

  Walking to my car, I glance at my co-worker as the teenage kid gets into his car. “Night, Kyle.”

  “You working tomorrow?” he asks me.

  “No, I have this weekend off.” I put the key into the lock on the car door and unlock it.

  “You got any plans?” he asks.

  Shaking my head, I say, “None at all. See you next week.”

  He nods and gets into his car. After he pulls out, I look at the card in my hand and slip into the driver’s seat.

  Cyprian didn’t go to the party he’s gone to every Friday and Saturday night since he was a child. I know it’s because of me and that has me wondering if Cyprian is capable of change.

  What if he is and I am the one who can help him with that? What if he has this one opportunity to live a full life, with love and companionship? What if I ignore him and the feelings I have? What will happen to the man then? What will happen to me?

  My heart hurts. It has since he walked away that day. And I have a feeling he can do much more harm to it than anyone else has ever been able to. But I find my fingers moving over my cell phone screen anyway.

  It rings only once. “Cami?” his deep voice says and I feel a heat move through me.

  “I know it’s late,” I say.

  He quickly says, “Not too late for me to see you. I’ve been waiting up, hoping you’d call. Will you come over?”

  “Will you promise not to make any attempt to get me into your bed?” I ask as I pound my head on the steering wheel, as I don’t know what I’m doing.

  “Can I touch you? I miss the way your skin feels.”

  “I guess some touching won’t hurt,” I say, though I think it might.

  “I’ll be waiting at the door for you, Cami.”

  I end the call and pull out of the parking lot. I’m probably going to regret doing this. But something inside of me is telling me that man needs me. And something else is telling me to hold tight to my heart that is so quick to fall in love. He’s a gamble. And I’m not the gambling kind.

  The gate pops up much faster than I thought it would. I push in the numbers and drive through it. I see him waiting outside, in his pajamas. No shoes, his T-shirt is light blue and his pajama bottoms are a dark blue. He looks like something I should run away from.

  A heartache in PJ’s, waiting to claim me.

  He comes to my door, once I stop, and opens it. I’m pulled up into his arms and he holds me, tightly. “Thank you, Cami. Thank you for coming.”

  He’s holding onto me as if I’m some life preserver he’s been tossed, in a stormy ocean. “You okay?”

  “No,” he says. “I have so much I want to talk to you about.” He lets me go and takes my hand. “Come inside.”

  I go along with him and have to wonder if I’m taking on more than I can manage. He’s not the same man I saw on Saturday and Sunday. He’s kind of a mess.

  He takes me inside and pulls me along until we’re on a patio where he has a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses, waiting on a table for us. A platter of cheese, crackers, and cut up bits of fruit are in the middle of it. He takes me to a small sofa, covered in dark green upholstery. I sit as he goes to get the things off the table and places the tray next to me.

  “This is for me?” I ask as I watch him fill the wine glasses.

  “It is,” he says. “I figured you’d be hungry after work.” He places a glass of wine on the table beside me and goes to sit on the other side of the tray.

  “That was very thoughtful of you.” I pick up the glass and take a sip then pick up an apple slice.

  “You stay on my mind, Cami.” He looks at me as he takes a drink of his wine.

  “You had things you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask as his gaze is making me feel kind of naked.

  “You were right about me, Cami. I am a shell of a person. I am empty and had no idea I was. You see, the women I’ve been accustom to, have all been escorts my father brought in to entertain us. I don’t know how to romantically handle a woman like yourself.”

  “First of all, using the word, handle, is offensive,” I tell him then pick up a cracker and place a piece of creamy white cheese on it.

  “Okay, noted. What word should I use in place of that?” he asks as he looks at me with a serious expression on his face.

  “How about we call it, getting along with, instead of handling?” I ask as I move the tray to the low table in front of us. “If I keep that right beside me, I will eat it until there’s nothing left on the plate.”

  With a smile, he scoots closer to me. “I’m glad to have it gone.” His hand moves over my arm, up and down it goes, with a soft caress. His chest rises as he takes a deep breath. “To be able to touch you is a relief.”

  Sparks of electric current follow the path he’s making over my arm and I put my hand on his leg and rest it there. “So, you really did miss me? That wasn’t a line?”

  “A line?” he asks. “Cami, I don’t even know any lines. I’ve never had to use them.”

  “Tell me about these parties with escorts you’ve been attending since you were, how old did you say you were?” I ask as I gently squeeze his thigh, relishing in how well muscled it is.

  “I was fifteen when I was formally introduced into my father’s world.” He takes a drink.

  “You started having sex then too?”

  He puts the glass down and looks away as he says, softly, “Yes, it was.”

  “With your father’s consent?” I ask as my parents would never consent to such a thing.

  He nods and keeps looking away from me. “Sex is sex in my family. It’s what you do at the end of the week to help relieve the stress the work week has brought down on you.”


  “How mechanical,” I say then take a long sip of wine. “And your mother and he, how do they get along?”

  “Mother gets along fine with my father. She doesn’t come once a month like she did when I was young. She does make it for the holidays. She sleeps with other men when she’s here. Never my father. Not even once that I’m aware of.”

  I reach out to touch his cheek as he keeps looking away from me. “Are you upset about that?”

  “Upset isn’t the right word. More like, confused. They are cordial to one another. There is and never has been any bad feelings between them. I was a mistake, their happy mishap, they call me.”

  I gasp and move my hand to my heart. “They call you that!”

  “You make it sound horrible, Camilla,” he says as he looks at me with wonder.

  “It is. To be called a mistake is terrible. Were you treated like a mistake?” I ask, completely appalled.

  “I don’t think so. I was treated well. I lived my first years with Mother. She stayed at home with me, thanks to money my father sent her. I don’t recall any bad treatment. Then she took me to my father’s when I was five, so I could go to school. She wanted to get back to her career.”

  “Which is?” I ask then take a drink.

  “Stripper,” he says, as if it’s no big deal.

  I nearly choke on my wine. He pats my back and takes the glass out of my hand, so I don’t spill it as I gasp for air. Finally, I regain control. “She’s a stripper?”

  “Was,” he corrects me. “Now she runs an adult nightclub my father bought for her.”

  “Okay, not a lot better but that’s something,” I say and he hands me back the glass of wine from which I take another sip. “So, she took you to your father to go back to stripping, okay. Had you known your father before she dropped you off with him?”

  “No, I had never met him.”