“So prim and proper,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to fuck all that right out of you.”
My jaw falls to the ground. He did not just say that right to my face.
Before I can reprimand him, or jump his bones like I really want to, his tone changes and his hands settle on my waist, one slipping around my back to knead my sore muscles.
“Now, finish reading and then we’ll go for dinner. I want to feed my woman.”
The presumptuousness in his last words should put my back up, but not when his side is so warm and firm and his hands are making magic on my tired muscles. I lean further into him, hold the paper in front of my eyes, and speedily skim down the rest of the text, eager for what’s to come.
* * * *
As Robert and I walk into the small Italian restaurant down the block, his thumb rubs my palm absently, the tie that was binding us now in his pocket. I couldn’t hold back my sigh of disappointment when he loosened the knot in the office, and it was obvious that Robert noticed it. The devilish spark that entered his eyes scared me and excited me in equal measures, and I’m wary of what he’ll do with this newly gained knowledge.
The restaurant is mostly filled when we walk inside, and the hostess leads us to a cozy table in the corner. I don’t miss the way her eyes rove over Robert appreciatively as she informs us our server will soon come to take our order.
But when I look at him, his eyes are trained solely on me. Flustered at the intense way he’s staring at me, I cast about for a topic of conversation, and suddenly what he said in the office comes roaring back to me in a flash.
“What did you mean at the office when you said not bad for a first try?” I ask him boldly.
I’m sure Robert’s smirk can be seen from the next table over.
“I love that you’re not shy with me,” he confides in me, picking up my hand from the table and casually playing with my fingers.
“You’re stalling,” I accuse as a few moments pass and he says nothing else, seemingly absorbed by the shape of my ring finger, tracing over my knuckles slowly.
“Am I?” he counters without looking up from his task.
The waiter chooses that moment to come up to our table and ask for our order. Robert selects an item on the menu with careless insouciance which I find appalling.
I tug at my hand, and when he refuses to release it, I give up and turn my attention to the waiter.
“What are your specialties?” I inquire.
I feel Robert tense up, and his hand tightens on my own. I look toward him in perplexed annoyance. He’s silent, but I can feel the tension pouring off him in droves.
I ignore him as I listen to the waiter, then relay my order to him, thanking him as he leaves.
For a moment, silence descends upon us, but it’s not the calm and quiet kind. It’s seething and filled with tension.
“What?” I finally ask him.
“You didn’t have to smile at him so much,” Robert grits out.
Astonished, I rear back and regard him quizzically. “I was just trying to be polite.”
“Well, he probably thought you were available,” he huffs out in annoyance. A second later, his eyes blaze. “Which you’re not,” he stresses.
“Just because I’ve agreed to give this a chance,” I murmur, pointing between us, “doesn’t mean anything has been decided.”
“You can pretend you are still on the fence about us.” He leans forward, his intense gaze boring into mine. “But we both know you were mine from the moment our eyes met.”
I choose to be silent rather than reply to that loaded statement. Tactful retreats, I remind myself. Tactfully retreating to fight another day.
Abruptly, Robert’s terse voice cuts into the air surrounding us. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever…” His gaze travels down my neck to the still-throbbing spot. “…marked.”
There’s possession and heat in that one word, enough to make my body come to life. I clear my throat and attempt to get myself under control.
Before I can register my surprise at this statement, he continues, “I thought I wanted a woman who would be submissive to me, who would let me take control of her and our life together. Let me be in charge in all aspects of our life.”
His mouth twists into a reminiscent smile, and just like that, all the heat from before leaves my body, making me shiver as goosebumps rise on my skin.
“I can’t give you that.” My voice is stark and full of remorse for what could have been. The hopelessness of our situation weighs on me. “I’ll never be able to give you that.”
My attempts to pull my hand out of Robert’s tight grip only end in vain. “Stop that,” he snaps. “You’re not listening to me. I said I thought that was what I wanted, not what I want.”
My mouth opens and closes; I don’t know what to say to that.
He continues, “I didn’t date in the past, because that was what I thought I wanted in a woman, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get it. So I never tried.”
Leaning over the table, his eyes bore into me, and I know the next words he says are going to be life-changing.
“After I met you, I realized I don’t want that from you,” he says. “I don’t want to control you. I just want you. Any way you’ll have me.”
Looking around, I search for the waiter to see if he’s near our table. Seeing no one, I ask in a low tone, “So what are you saying? That you’re—” I release a scandalous gasp, entirely too excited at the prospect “—a virgin?”
The idea sounds preposterous to me. He’s a twenty-eight-year-old man in his prime. How can he not have known the touch of a woman?
Robert smirks at me and rolls a shoulder in a careless shrug that looks anything but. “I didn’t want to experiment, so I waited. And I’m glad I did.” His eyes get a faraway look in them, as if he’s remembering something in the past. “The way you looked at me that first day though …” Shaking his head, he lets out a light chuckle and grazes his thumb over my still-captured palm. “As if telling me you didn’t have too much time for me.”
“Well, working in a big corporation is a busy job,” I explain, and I can’t resist adding, “For some of us.”
Robert draws back from me, his brow furrowed. “Is that a tease aimed at me? Are you teasing me right now?”
The incredulous tinge to his voice almost dissolves me into fits of laughter but I control myself. Instead, I put on my very best, most innocent, holier-than-thou expression and flutter my eyelashes at him.
“No, of course not. I would never,” I say with a prim tone.
His hand tightens on mine, and he pulls me forward until I’m leaning slightly over the table, in the exact position he had me in at his office.
“If I hadn’t already fallen hard for you, wildcat, make no mistake, I’d be doing that right this second.”
The waiter chooses that moment to arrive with our order, and I fall back in my seat, oddly flushed and breathless.
Robert’s eyes don’t leave mine as our dishes are placed on the table. “That will be all,” he says tersely without looking away from me, and our server beats a hasty retreat at the firm command underlying those words.
The thrill I get from the utter control in his words is completely inappropriate, and I refuse to acknowledge it.
Reclaiming my hand back from his grip, I pick up my fork and ignore the slight shaking of my fingers.
The rest of the dinner passes by too soon. Before I’ve blinked, our meal is complete and Robert is leading me out of the restaurant, his hand at my lower back, his head craning around and his eyes glaring at anyone who looks at us too long.
Who looks at me too long.
He’s jealous, I realize, and a thrill shoots up my spine. I’ve never seen this side of him before at the office; this possessive, growling man who doesn’t like it when I smile at our male waiter.
When we’re at work, Robert is the epitome of cool control, his voice an even tone lacking any inflections and his eye
s calm and steady. Not a hair out of place. Tie perfectly straight.
A sideways glance at him reveals his tie is very much crooked right now, and he doesn’t seem to notice, looking down at me with barely hidden desire shooting sparks from his eyes.
I get lost in his gaze and don’t bother looking away from the brown orbs until we stop directly outside our office building.
Robert halts at the door, refusing to go inside.
Conflicting emotions war inside his gaze until he finally lets out a troubled breath then speaks in a low tone. “Come home with me.”
I step back, a little shocked. I can’t deny the excitement that bubbles up in me, but it’s too soon. We’re too new, and after the revelations of the evening, I need time to process everything.
His words. His reactions.
My feelings.
And I need to do it in the comfort of my home, where I’m familiar with my settings and feel safe surrounded by my things.
Yet, at the same time, I don’t want this moment with Robert to end.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and everything is too uncertain between us right now for me to just let it end here. I know myself, and I know I will overthink and overanalyze every minute detail of our interactions, repeat them over and over in my head, again and again, until I exhaust myself and fall into a restless sleep.
Despair over the familiar pattern rushes through me, and as I look at Robert, silently standing there and letting me decide, making no move to persuade me or convince me, I realize the solution to my predicament is right in front of me.
“You come home with me,” I reply, my voice soft but ensuring he doesn’t mistake it for anything but the order it is.
I expect him to balk at the command, to fight back and defend his manly pride. But he surprises me. Again.
A devilish grin highlighting his features, he nods his head and urges, “Lead the way, wildcat.”
There are so many things I want to say. I want to marvel at the relief straightening his shoulders. I want to examine the flutters disturbing my chest cavity and speeding up my heartbeat. I want to wonder over how we stand here together, our bodies in perfect alignment to each other, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together, except we’re not even touching.
But I do none of those things.
Lead the way, he said.
So I turn around and I do exactly that, refusing to acknowledge the emotions clogging my throat when he simply follows.
Chapter 5
Robert
Sarah’s home is so different from what I expected, I stop at the threshold and look around.
It’s fascinating, this deeper glimpse into the woman I’ve loved for six months and thought I knew everything about. It’s astounding to realize how wrong I was.
Her apartment is small but clean. Neat piles of her shoes are stacked just inside the entryway, and there’s a short corridor that opens to a living room. The large couch in the middle of the room looks soft and inviting, with small pillows strewn all over and a blanket draped on its back.
There’s a TV in front of the couch and a wooden bookshelf occupying one side of the room. The rug on the floor is light-colored and matches the couch cushions. There’s a small hallway leading away from the room to, I assume, her bedroom, and the kitchen is open-plan with a counter separating the two spaces.
The whole space screams cozy and comfortable.
I look over at Sarah standing beside me, watching silently as I appraise her home, and it descends on me. This wasn’t some random, hastily thrown out invitation. This wasn’t a bid to take control and dictate how our relationship would go further.
This was an offer; one she didn’t make lightly.
I can see at a glance this is truly her home, not just an apartment she lives in. It’s her sanctuary, and she’s invited me in. The only time I will feel more honored than I do in this moment is when she invites me into her heart. I don’t know how to express my gratitude to her for sharing this side of herself with me.
I bend down and remove my shoes, placing them next to hers, to give me a moment to collect myself. When I straighten back up, she’s not looking at me but down at where our shoes are sitting side by side, with a strange expression on her face.
I lean forward and press a light kiss on her lips, feeling her startled intake of breath like a lick of heat in my groin.
“This is beautiful, Sarah,” I remark, smiling gently at her.
Her eyes soften and she hums a thank you as she walks ahead of me, her ponytail swishing and keeping me riveted.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Indicating the couch with a sweep of her hand, she strides into the kitchen and gets me a glass of water, setting it on the low table in front of me.
“I’m not a big fan of drinking,” she explains with a shrug. “I don’t have anything in the house.”
“This is perfect, thank you,” I say then grimace over how formal it sounds.
She chuckles lightly, and I can see how her being in her own space has relaxed her.
I silently congratulate myself for not hesitating to take her up on her earlier offer. If I had, I would have never gotten to know this side of her.
And when it comes to my woman, I’m greedy as hell. I want to know every square inch of her, starting with her mind and ending with her luscious body that’s currently mere feet away from me.
Willing my hands not to make a grab for her, I sit forward and reach for the glass of water, gulping it down in an effort to cool myself. I see Sarah raise an eyebrow at that, but she refrains from commenting.
“I’m going to get out of these work clothes. I’ll be right back,” she says as she starts heading in the direction of the back hallway.
I watch her until she disappears around the corner then set the glass down and loosen my tie, opening the top two buttons of my shirt and ditching my jacket to roll up my sleeves.
As I lean back, a whiff of her enticing scent reaches my nostrils, and I turn my head and inhale deeply. It’s coming from the blanket she keeps over the couch, and as I imagine her snuggling in it, I can’t help my next set of actions. Fisting the light, fluffy material, I bring it to my nose and bury my face in it, taking a deep lungful of her sweet scent.
“What are you doing?”
The astonished question makes me aware of my surroundings again, and I slowly emerge from the haze I was in, surrounded by her scent.
Lowering the blanket from my face to my lap, I see Sarah standing there in a blue pajama set with no pictures or words written across the front. Her hair is down from her ever-present ponytail and brushes her shoulders as it lies partway down her back.
Her freshly cleaned face is bare of the light makeup she wears to work every day and currently scrunched up in an adorable look of mingled surprise and amusement.
I meet her gaze head-on, refusing to be embarrassed at being caught shamelessly rubbing my face in her throw cover.
Best she gets used to my obsession from the start.
“Come sit down with me,” I cajole, ignoring her query since it was blatantly obvious what I was doing.
She hesitates before curling up in one corner of the couch, facing me and tucking her legs underneath her.
My lips purse with disapproval, but I take the blanket from my lap and drape it around her, memorizing how she looks when she’s calm and content.
It’s how I want her to look every day from now on. With me. I want to give her that look of satisfaction and peace.
“So,” she begins, clutching the blanket tighter around her, as if it’s armor. “You said you’ve never been in a relationship before—”
“And you haven’t either,” I cut in, wanting her to confirm what I already suspect, needing to hear it from her.
We will be each other’s firsts. And, in time, each other’s everything.
“Yes, Robert.” Her tone is slightly patronizing, and she rolls her eyes at me.
I can hardly contain myself. I want to kis
s that disobedient mouth, and I want to spank that pert ass. All at the same time.
I last two minutes before I give in, leaning forward to capture her ankles beneath the blanket and drawing her feet into my lap. Her legs stretch out in front of her, and she sighs, relaxing further into the couch as I trail my fingertips up the arch of her left foot.
“How do you see this working?” she inquires softly. The bite from her tone has vanished, her breaths coming in gentle exhales as I fit my fingers between her toes and squeeze lightly. “With us both wanting control all the time,” she continues after a moment.
“It’s not about control,” I explain. “I told you that at the restaurant. If I had wanted a submissive, I would have found one, but—”
I don’t get a chance to finish my train of thought. Sarah’s foot jerks under my grip and her heel digs into my thigh, perilously close to my straining shaft. I quickly capture it and still her legs with my palms on her blanket-covered calves.
Looking over, I see fire shooting from her eyes as she growls, “What were you going to say?”
I imagine my expression resembles a giddy kid at a chocolate store, but I control my joy at her display of possessiveness and rush to reassure her. “I wasn’t going to say what you thought I was.”
I pause to let that sink in.
Her swift reaction to me even suggesting the involvement of another woman elates me and warms me in equal measures. She’s as invested in this as I am.
“I was trying to say I wasn’t looking for a submissive or anyone else.” My hands continue roaming over her legs, and tension drains from her in slow degrees. “I was waiting for this connection I feel with you. I can’t imagine feeling it with anyone else. Ever.” I stress the last word, in case she still has doubts about my intentions or my commitment.
“I respect that,” she says, wrangling herself back under control. “That doesn’t mean we won’t clash, because we’re both used to taking charge. We like it even.”
I nod my head to show my acquiescence. “I agree, we both have dominant personalities, but our relationship isn’t going to be built on control.” I strive to explain further. “It’s not about control. It’s about trust. That’s the foundation. If you trust me to take care of you, to take care of your pleasure,” I rasp, my gaze dropping to her soft, sweet lips.
Tied to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 3) Page 3