Tied to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 3)

by Michelle F. Adams

  Before I can start panicking at the idea, I look at Michael who’s still standing there, his eyes shifting between me and Robert.

  “Michael,” I begin, taking a deep breath to shore myself up. “Tell Father I won’t be available for his dinner summons on Sunday.”

  I stress the word summons and see Michael flush slightly at the intended hit.

  “If he wants to meet me, he can call and we’ll arrange something over the phone.” Turning, I look back at Robert behind me and add, “Besides, this Sunday, I already have plans.”

  Entwining my fingers with Robert’s, I tug at his hand and start leading him away from where Michael is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, appearing to be stunned speechless. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, and I feel pride bubble up inside me.

  As we pass by him, I give him a slight nod of acknowledgement while Robert continues glaring daggers at him. Laughing lightly, I hasten my steps and drag Robert along with me.

  “Come on,” I urge. “I think he got the message.”

  “He’d better,” Robert warns, his body still tense and his brows furrowed.

  “Let’s go home,” I say cheerfully, determined to not let my past ruin what we’re building together. “We can order from Bella. I’m in the mood for Italian tonight.”

  Robert’s nod is absent-minded. We’ve only taken a few more steps when he suddenly stops, his hand spinning me around and his mouth descending on mine. I gasp into his mouth at the suddenness of his actions, and he takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, dragging it along my front teeth and slicking against the roof of my mouth.

  When he pulls back, I’m panting for breath. “What was that for?” I ask in bewilderment.

  Robert’s forehead comes to rest against mine as he answers, “I’m just so proud of you.”

  My eyes start to water again, for an entirely different reason.

  Sensing my emotional upheaval, Robert pulls me close to him and leans down to whisper in my ear, “Is he watching?”

  It takes me a moment to catch his meaning, but when I do, a watery laugh spills from my lips as I look back over Robert’s shoulder to see that Michael is indeed watching us kiss and embrace from where we left him standing.

  “Yes, he is,” I confirm, and Robert pulls back to give me a devilish smirk.

  “Good,” he says possessively then takes my hand again and we continue walking, me with a lightness in my step I didn’t have before.

  When we get to my apartment, Robert uses the key he stole earlier to let us in. I can feel my lips twitching in amusement, but I suppress the urge and frown at him instead. Robert just grins and drops a kiss on top of my hair, guiding me inside. Immediately, I head for my bedroom, wanting to change out of my work clothes and find something comfortable to wear.

  When I walk out, Robert is on the phone, ordering dinner for us, and he gestures to the couch where I see my favorite blanket spread out and a glass of chilled orange juice waiting for me. I give him a smile over my shoulder as I settle onto the soft cushions, and he smiles back as he continues talking on his phone.

  “How’re you feeling?” he inquires as he joins me a few moments later.

  “I’m all right now,” I reply. “Did you order—”

  He cuts me off as he grabs my feet and puts them in his lap, rubbing my toes. “Yes, I ordered alfredo pasta for you.”

  I huff. “What about—”

  I’m interrupted again as he completes, “And chicken parmesan also.”

  “So you know everything about me now, is that it?” I question, pretending to be annoyed while melting on the inside. I only went to Bella with Robert once, so for him to remember my favorites and order them for me speaks volumes about how much he cares for me.

  “Not everything,” he answers back in a serious tone.

  I turn on my side and place my head on the arm of the couch for support. “Do you want to know?” I ask, understanding what he’s referring to.

  “Yes.” His confirmation is immediate, and his eyes are solemn as he gazes at me. “But only if you want to tell me.”

  I look away from him, picking up my juice and taking a few sips, grateful for the cold liquid racing down my throat. Robert sits beside me and waits patiently, his hands continuing to massage my feet.

  “How long ’til the order gets here?” I ask him in an obvious bid for distraction.

  He goes along with it as if we have all the time in the world. Maybe we do. “Around twenty minutes, give or take.”

  Jostling my feet, I slide down the couch so my legs are laying over him and close my eyes. “I worked out the details for the McAlliston project.” My voice is quiet and measured. “They want to set up a meeting for Monday.”

  For a minute, there’s complete silence in the room. I open my eyes to narrow slits and watch through them as Robert lets out a deep sigh and reaches up to unknot his tie.

  My core clenches and floods with wetness at the familiar action.

  But he merely slides the tie from around his neck and deposits it, along with his jacket, on the coffee table before rolling his sleeves up.

  “Yes, we can do Monday,” he eventually replies. “After lunch.”

  “That’s great,” I enthuse. “I’ll call and tell Mr. McAlliston’s secretary. He can schedule the meeting time appropriate for them.”

  “He?” Robert’s voice sounds like he’s being strangled, and when I look over at him, he’s frowning. “McAlliston’s secretary is a he?”

  “Well, yes,” I say slowly. “Is there a rule the secretary jobs only go to females?” My voice contains a verbal trap, my inner feminist perking up to await his response.

  “No, of course not,” he scoffs, as if the idea is ludicrous, and the arguments on my tongue die a quick death. “I’ll call and arrange the meeting. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “What?” I sit up and gape at him in surprise. “That’s ridiculous. I’m your assistant. It’s my job to set up these things.”

  “Sarah, I said I’ll do it. Don’t worry about it.” His voice is coated with steel. “I need you to prepare the presentation for the meeting.”

  “I can do both,” I argue, refusing to let go of this for some unfathomable reason.

  Robert’s teeth grind together audibly. He leans forward and captures my jaw in his hand, his thumb sweeping over my bottom lip and then pressing in until I feel a slight pressure against my teeth.

  “Let this go, wildcat. You’re not going to win this one.”

  When I open my mouth to protest, his thumb dips in and glides over my tongue. All thoughts of what we were talking about leave my mind. My lips pucker around Robert’s digit, and I suck lightly before nipping the tip with my teeth.

  Robert’s breath hitches, and he bends forward, his intentions written clearly on his face. When he’s a whisper away from my lips, the shrill tone of my doorbell sounds, breaking the spell around us.

  “That’s our order,” I say, my tone conveying my disappointment.

  Robert’s lips curve up at the corners, and he slides his thumb out of my mouth. “I’ll go get it.” Removing his wallet from his back pocket, he asks over his shoulder, “Do you want to eat at the table or on the couch?”

  “The couch,” I yell back, licking my lips and settling in more comfortably in my cozy corner.

  Robert brings in the food, the delicious smells wafting from it making my mouth water. He sets the bags on the coffee table and hands me my container and a fork before grabbing his own.

  We eat in companionable silence, with me occasionally leaning over to take a bite out of Robert’s food. He smiles at me every time I do it, so even though I love my item more than his, I end up eating half of his as well.

  After we clean up, we head to my bedroom, and I pop into the bathroom to brush my teeth and comb my hair. When I come out, Robert’s reclining on my bed, his back against the headboard.

  It’s clear he’s waiting for me, and I know I can’
t put off telling him about my past any longer.

  I’m grateful he gave me the short reprieve he did, but if he’s going to be a part of my life, I need to be honest with him. I need to trust him like he did me.

  Thinking of trust reminds me of what he did earlier.

  I slide into bed beside him and scoot closer until my side is pressed to the full length of his body.

  With my face muffled against his ribs, I say, “I wanted to thank you for what you did tonight.” I press a whisper of a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “I appreciate you trusting me to handle the situation myself. And for being there by my side.”

  Robert turns and moves down the bed until we’re face-to-face with each other. “Wildcat, you’re the strongest woman I know.” He looks deep into my eyes as he continues, “You’ve made a career for yourself, and you don’t take anyone’s shit, especially mine.”

  I laugh and swat at his arm. He captures my fingers and brings them to his lips, kissing the tips reverently.

  “You’re amazing,” he says. “And I’m in awe of everything you’ve achieved.”

  The simple words have the power to blow me away. With one statement, he’s acknowledging how difficult it was to make my own way in life, without any support from my family. With one sentence, he’s praising my strength and my hard work.

  How can I not fall in love with this man, I wonder, as I lean forward to kiss him. My hands slide into his hair to hold him to me as we sip at each other’s lips softly, our legs tangled together and our hearts beating in sync.

  I’ve never been so understood by anyone, and in this moment, my heart is completely his.

  Ending the kiss, I lean back a little and begin my story. “My father—”

  The vibration of my phone on the bedside table interrupts me, and I look over to see a number I haven’t seen in six years flashing on my screen.

  Speak of the devil.

  Chapter 9

  Robert

  I can tell by the stiffness that descends on Sarah’s body that it’s her father calling.

  She looks at me over her shoulder with an apologetic expression before answering the call with, “Hello, Dad.”

  I slide closer to her soft form on the bed and wrap my arms around her middle, setting my chin on her shoulder and rubbing the side of my face against hers.

  I’m not sure if I’m invading her privacy by doing this, but she covers my twined arms with the hand not holding the phone to her ear, and I exhale in relief. I want to show her I’m here for her, and it seems she understands and appreciates it.

  Settling more fully against me with her back to my chest, she listens to what her father says on the phone, her fingers absently circling random patterns on my forearms.

  Even though I’m so close to her, I can’t make out the low voice on the other end of the phone, but Sarah mostly listens and answers occasionally with a noncommittal hum.

  “No, Dad. I can’t make it this Sunday,” she explains in a calm tone. There’s a pause, then she says, “Yes, his name is Robert. He’s my boss at the company.”

  I grunt and squeeze her slight frame tighter to my body. I’m not only her boss.

  Sarah jabs her elbow into my stomach, and I begrudgingly loosen my hold.

  “No, he can’t.” Her voice is firm and a little breathless.

  I realize I was squeezing her too tightly and press a kiss of remorse into her neck.

  She shudders in response but continues talking. “Well, I haven’t asked him.”

  Whatever her father says has her scowling, and I can feel her nails digging into my skin.

  “You know why I left,” she hisses out. “Don’t pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. It was far from—”

  Her words cut off, and her breathing escalates. My alarm rises, and I consider taking the phone away from her and ending the call, but she would never forgive me if I did that.

  Sarah is strong and can fight her own battles. I can only be there for her and support her. With that in mind, I rein back my protective instincts that shout at me to throw her phone across the room. Instead, I settle for sweeping my hand up over her front, from below her breasts to her stomach where I can feel the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

  My only intention is to soothe her with my touch, but my body responds at her nearness and I can feel my cock stiffening in my pants. I shift my hips back from her ass and pray she doesn’t feel my inappropriate reaction.

  “Look,” Sarah says after a brief pause, “I don’t know when I’ll be available. I’m in the middle of something right now. I’ll text you if I can make it.” Her father says something to which she replies tersely, “Yes, all right,” then hangs up.

  She sets the phone on the bedside table and then burrows her head into her pillow, and I can hear her loud breathing.

  I wait silently, moving my hand up and down her stomach and listening to her breaths.

  After a while, she turns around and faces me. “That was my dad,” she deadpans.

  My laughter echoes off the walls. That was the last thing I expected her to say. Somehow, after months of observing and watching her and a week of being with her, she still manages to surprise me.

  “Yeah, I gathered that, wildcat,” I say, still chuckling.

  “He wants me to come to dinner at the house on Sunday,” she informs me while playing with the buttons of my shirt. She’s trying to act nonchalant, but I can see the conversation with her father left a mark on her.

  “You don’t want to go?” I ask hesitantly, not sure how to approach this matter.

  “That was the first time I’ve spoken to him…” Looking up, she tries to gauge my reaction as she imparts, “…in six years.”

  I don’t know how to react to that. I suspected Sarah didn’t have a good relationship with her parents because she never once mentioned them in all the time I’ve known her. Clearly, there’s a lot of history between them, so I realize I need to tread lightly here.

  Trying to ensure there’s not a hint of judgement in my tone, I ask, “So you haven’t seen them in all this time?”

  She shakes her head. “No, I left their house after graduating college. I got a job in another city, then moved from place to place for a while before finally ending up at Marshall Corp.” Her voice is a whisper, as if she’s thinking aloud to herself, “I didn’t think he’d track me here.”

  Something clicks into place for me.

  “That day at the office,” I recall suddenly. “You saw Michael.” I spit his name out as if I’ve tasted something vile. “That’s why you were so out of sorts.”

  “Yes,” she confirms. “It was such a shock seeing him. I thought, after all this time, my father might have finally lost interest in me.”

  “I don’t understand. Why now? After six years have passed, why does he want to see you now?”

  “Likely because Michael saw me with you one day and reported back to him,” she reasons. “It’s just the way my dad works. He wants to know all about you. Thus, the dinner invite.”

  I shrug and tangle her red curls around my forefinger. “So let’s go then.”

  Sarah jerks back at my words. Her hair slips out of my grasp, and I mutter in disapproval as I reach out and grab a few strands again.

  “You don’t mean that,” she says with shock clear in her tone.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I ask. “Your father wants to meet us, so let’s go have dinner with him.”

  “No.” Denial is vehement in her voice. “Absolutely not. You don’t know my father like I do. He ruins everything, and I don’t want us to be affected by him.”

  “Sarah.” I tug her hair lightly in a bid to get her attention. “He can’t ruin us. He has no effect on our relationship.”

  But I can see my words have failed to convince her.

  Pushing her back on the mattress, I lean over her and plant my fists on either side of her head. “We’re forever, wildcat. No one can change that.”

  I press a kiss to her foreh
ead to seal my vow. She levers up and bites my earlobe. Her version of a promise.

  My wildcat. I’m such a goner over this woman, I think as I bend down and lick her neck. She takes the earlobe she bit a minute earlier into her mouth and suckles it lightly, soothing the slight pain she caused.

  My lips tilt up in a grin as I kiss her. She huffs and retorts, “Why do you even want to meet him?”

  I struggle to bring my mind back to our earlier conversation. “It’s not that I want to meet him,” I tell her, praying I’m not about to step over a line with my next words. “I just think you would benefit from seeing him.”

  Her hands which were tracing the dips in my back go completely still, and I curse my big mouth.

  “I just think,” I rush to explain further, “you left six years ago and you haven’t had any contact with him since then. I can see there are some scars left. Maybe it would give you some closure. Or even peace,” I finish lamely.

  I want to point out how she told me she was always moving from place to place and never settled down anywhere. I want to make her realize how this pattern of not putting down any roots is destructive and originates from her past. I want to beg her to face her demons so we can start our future together.

  But that’s not my place, and I’ve already said enough. So I wait with bated breath to see how she’s going to react.

  Agonizing minutes pass by until she murmurs, “Maybe I can clear some space in my schedule on Sunday.”

  My breath wooshes out of me in relief, and I lower my head to kiss her when what she said, or rather what she left out, hits me.

  “You will clear some space?” I inquire in a strained voice.

  She looks at me in confusion. “I mean, I’ll go meet him. You’re right, I need to face him and go through these—”

  Her next words are muffled as I whip her shirt over her head and toss it away. Sarah’s still for a moment because of the suddenness of my actions, but her surprise quickly bleeds into desire and heat.

  Too bad it’s not the same for me.

  I lean down and bite her nipple, scraping my teeth over the hardening bud. Sarah’s back arches off the bed and her breasts rub into my chest. I ignore the sizzle of electricity it sends down my spine and keep my focus on the topic at hand.