Bound to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 1)

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Bound to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 1) Page 1

by Michelle F. Adams




  Bound to Him

  by

  Michelle F. Adams

  Bound to Him

  Copyright © 2019, Michelle F. Adams

  ISBN: 9781949300314

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: March 2019

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  He will bind her to him…in marriage.

  James Marshall never takes no for an answer. He is feared for his cunning wit and ruthless drive in the business world. From the first moment he lays eyes on Clarissa, he knows he will stop at nothing to have her…every part of her.

  Clarissa Moreland knows her father’s dire situation, and she resolves to do whatever is necessary to save their family’s company. But she doesn’t expect the solution to be a man who looks at her with raw desire and naked yearning. Now her only option is to agree to be his, and he intends to keep her forever.

  Content Warning: contains strong language and sexual content

  Dedication

  To Alexa Riley, the words you write are my inspiration and the stories you spin are my safe haven. Thank you.

  Chapter 1

  James

  “This is the final offer. I suggest you think very wisely about your next move, Mr. Moreland. The amount of money you owe me can never be paid in ten lifetimes, let alone the two months you are left with,” I say, my voice dripping with the scorn and disgust I feel for the man sitting in front of me.

  “J-just give me some more t-time,” he begs. “Please, my company is all I have left. I can pay the money back. I-I just need some more time.”

  “Stop deluding yourself. You and I both know if you could pay me back, I wouldn’t be here right now. You have until tomorrow to get back to me,” I state in a cold voice edged with steel as I turn to leave the gaudy, stifling confines of his office without a backward glance.

  I have no respect for a man who squanders away his family fortune on a life of luxury and comfort. If the company he inherited from his father meant so much to him, then he would work to keep it afloat instead of spending money on privileges he hasn’t earned. Now he’s so deep in debt, he’s drowning and begging for scraps.

  Grasping the gold, polished handle, I open the heavy, double doors and find my arms full of the softness of a woman. Caught off-guard by the door suddenly opening, she lets out a little squeak, stumbles, and falls right into my chest, her forehead bumping my collarbone.

  I automatically grab her upper arms to steady her, and the first thing that hits me is her scent: fresh grass and wide, open spaces. A hint of innocence mixed with wildness that sets my blood boiling and my heart racing as my mind registers the silky, satiny skin under my fingers.

  I lift her chin with my forefinger and thumb, and the moment her wide, chocolate brown eyes meet mine, it’s like a punch to the gut. I struggle to draw air into my suddenly starving lungs as my eyes devour every inch of her. All these years spent with my sole focus on my business and in the space of a single heartbeat, my world shifts. My breath catches in my throat, and all I can do is stare at her, her shiny, brown hair hanging loose to her ass, a soft pink blush staining her cheeks.

  She tries pulling out of my grasp, and I snap back to the present and growl as I hold her tighter, pulling her closer to me so that her breasts are smashed against my chest and her face is so close I can see the gold flecks in her doe-shaped eyes.

  “Who are you?” I question, my voice coming out harsher than I had intended from all the emotions rioting inside me for supremacy. I want to hold her close and never let her go. To take her away from this place that doesn’t deserve a beauty like her. To own her.

  Before she can open her mouth to reply, Paul speaks from behind me, “She’s my daughter, Clarissa.”

  I was so lost in her presence that I had completely forgotten he was still in the room.

  The disapproval is clear in his voice as he says, “I told you to stay away from this wing of the house, Clarissa. When will you listen and do what you are told to—”

  “Don’t speak to her like that,” I bark at him, without tearing my gaze away from her. Then in a gentler voice, I say, “Go wait for me in the foyer, baby.”

  She starts to look back at Paul, but I move so my body is blocking her line of sight and hold her shoulders to turn her. She takes a step out of the door, and then turns around to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes filled with confusion and desire.

  “Go on,” I urge. “I’ll be right there.”

  I watch as she turns back around and walks away, her steps shy and unsure. When she has turned the corner out of my sight, I close the door and look back at Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen…”

  * * * *

  When I walk into the foyer, she’s waiting by the front door, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip and her fingers twisting a lock of her long, brown hair.

  “Clarissa,” I call.

  She jumps a little and turns to look at me.

  “Come here.” I stretch my hand out to her.

  She looks from my open palm to my face and back again before she shakes her head and takes a step back.

  “Clarissa,” I growl, a warning in my tone.

  She takes another step back, and the thin thread of my control snaps. I lunge, pinning her to the wall beside the front door with my body pressed against hers. She opens her mouth to scream, but I clamp my palm tightly over her lips as I press her against the wall, the hard planes of my body cushioned by her softness. She looks at me with wide eyes.

  “Shh. We don’t want daddy to hear and interrupt us, do we?”

  Her eyes flash, and I remove my hand from her mouth and place it on the wall beside her head, looking down at her. She’s so small her head barely comes up to my chest, and she has to tilt her head back to look into my eyes. God, she is so fucking beautiful.

  “What deal have you made with my father? I know he is indebted to you. Don’t take the company away. If you give us more time, I can—” Her voice is filled with determination and resolve, as if she has taken it upon herself to shoulder his burdens.

  I admire her loyalty, but this is her father’s fault. He should be protecting her, not the other way around. The thought sparks my anger.

  “Your father’s not your concern. He has gotten himself into this mess. He will work to get himself out of it.”

  She stiffens against me and tilts her chin higher in a stubborn gesture that just makes her look more adorable. But I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate me telling her that. “He’s my father. You don’t have to take the company away from him. I will get you the money. I just need a little time.”

  “I don’t want the money.”

  “W-what?” She pauses, her forehead creases in thought, and she bites that pouty, succulent bottom lip again. My cock twitches, and I stifle a groan. “Then what do you want?”

  “I want you.”

  Chapter 2

  Clarissa

  “What?” I blink in surprise and shock. Surely I must have heard him wrong.

  I know who he is. When my father told me to stay away from the west wing of the house where his office is located, I knew someone important was coming in to meet him. He doesn’t share any of the details of
his business with me; says it’s not my concern where the money comes from. But I have learned to quietly eavesdrop on his telephone calls, and I heard this man’s name in those hushed conversations so many times I looked him up. James Marshall is a legend, known as a shark in the business world. His ruthlessness and drive have made him the owner of a multi-million dollar empire he created from the ground up.

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “You want to save your father’s company?” he asks as he reaches out to run a finger from my temple to my chin, his gaze following the path his finger traces with fierce concentration and something that looks a lot like awe on his face.

  I shudder and try to regain some semblance of control. The way he makes me feel is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m confused by all these dormant emotions bubbling up to the surface.

  “Yes,” I answer with conviction, my mind recalling the faces of all the employees that have been working for our family for generations. When I think of those people, my resolve is strengthened, and I know I will do anything to save the company from being dismantled and all the workers losing their only source of livelihood.

  “Then you will marry me.”

  For a moment my mind cannot register what he just said, but when the meaning of his words start to sink in, I immediately stiffen and place my palms flat on his chest to push him away from me. But it’s like trying to push a solid, implacable wall of steel, and he doesn’t move an inch. “Get off me! How dare you make fun of me like this?”

  An angry rumble vibrates his chest, and he takes a step forward so there isn’t an inch of space left between our bodies and my palms are trapped in between. “I am not fucking joking. Your father is a lazy piece of ass who likes to spend more than he earns. You want me to let him keep his precious company?” He steps even closer and leans down to press his nose into the hair at my temple. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising with the action and pushing against mine. “Then you will marry me in three days.”

  I start to protest, even though what he said is true. My father has a penchant for buying expensive, fanciful things that cost him more than his earnings as the CEO of our family company, so the amount of debts he owes are starting to pile up, and now this man has come to collect his due.

  Before I can open my mouth to suggest a more reasonable method of payment, he covers it with his palm again and leans down to whisper in my ear, his hot breath making goosebumps rise on my skin. “I don’t want to hear a word unless it is yes.”

  The arrogant demand in his tone sets me off. My anger sparks, and I bite down on his palm…hard.

  “Fuck! You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you?” He lifts his palm from my mouth and turns it over to inspect the damage. “All that fire. I can’t wait for you to burn up in my arms,” he says huskily.

  He shows his hand to me, and I see little teeth marks that I left on his skin.

  “Look at that, baby. You left your mark on me.” Pride and satisfaction coats his voice. “If this fades away in the three days before I make you mine, I’m coming back for another.”

  My eyes narrow at the confidence and self-assurance in his voice as he states we are getting married in three days as if it’s a foregone conclusion. His mouth lifts up at one corner in a sexy half-smile I find so appealing that I lose my train of thought. Damn him and his gorgeous face with high cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw covered in faint stubble.

  He leans down, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that makes my stomach curl, and nuzzles his nose in the hair at the top of my head before brushing his lips against mine in the softest of kisses. He straightens and pushes away from me, and I instantly miss his closeness. What is wrong with me?

  “I will see you soon, baby.” He runs a hand through his thick, black hair, messing it up even more, then turns and leaves, the door quietly closing behind him, leaving me a quivering, breathless mass of nerves, leaning against the wall for support.

  * * * *

  The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, trying to come up with a solution to the mess my father has gotten himself into, I’m sitting at my favorite coffee shop and listening to Robert as he regales me with stories of his attempts at the office to get Sarah to pay attention to him. I’m laughing at his latest antics when suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a tingling sensation runs down my spine. I look up and my eyes clash with a smoldering pair of icy blues as James makes his way to the booth we’re sitting in.

  Before I can even say hello, he bends and his mouth crashes down on mine in an aggressive kiss of possession that takes my breath away. He savagely thrusts his tongue into my mouth and swirls it around mine. I softly moan, and I’m about to kiss him back when the sound of a throat being cleared from the other side of the booth cuts through my fog of lust. I start to pull away, shocked by my wanton behavior in such a public place, but James puts his hand on the back of my head and doesn’t let me get far as he continues kissing me.

  My temper rises, and I nip at his bottom lip to get him to let go, but he quietly groans and deepens the kiss so that I can taste a hint of the coppery tinge of blood on his tongue in my mouth. He plants another kiss on my lips before releasing me and taking a seat on my side of the booth, putting an arm around my shoulders and hauling me into his side so I’m pressed against him.

  “Good morning, my little firecracker.” He puts his nose to the hair at my temple and I hear him take a deep breath. I’ve noticed he always does this, as if he’s inhaling my scent. Finally, he turns his face to look at the man seated across from me on the other side, watching raptly. “And you are?” One eyebrow rises in an arrogant arch.

  “I’m Robert, Clarissa’s friend,” Robert introduces himself as he extends his hand over the table.

  “James, Clarissa’s fiancé,” he replies as he shakes the offered hand.

  I gasp and open my mouth to protest, but James squeezes me tighter with his arm, effectively silencing me.

  I see Robert wince and shake his hand loose before he looks at his watch and exclaims, “Oh God, look at the time. I better get going. It was nice seeing you, Clarissa.”

  With a glance full of meaning at me and a nod in James’s direction, he gets up from the table and makes his way to the door.

  I cross my arms over my chest and turn my head to glare at James, but his narrowed eyes are still fixed on Robert’s back, a hard mask covering his face.

  “What are you doing here?” I snap.

  His head turns back around and he smiles that sexy half-smile of his designed to make me melt. But I hold onto my anger and indignation firmly this time.

  “I came to see you, baby.” He shrugs, and I narrow my eyes at him, not for one second believing that air of innocence he’s trying to put on.

  “How did you know where I was?”

  “I always have eyes on what’s mine.”

  I refuse to open that can of worms and choose to ignore his statement and move on to the next important issue at hand.

  “What the hell was that?” I throw my arm out in a wide arc to indicate the table and the now deserted other side.

  “What?” he asks as if he has no idea what I’m talking about, but I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “That-that macho display of jealousy and ownership,” I point out.

  “I had to stake my claim, firecracker. Can’t have other men thinking they can steal you away from me, now can I?” He asks this in a perfectly calm, reasonable voice, as if I’m stupid for not seeing the obvious.

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  “What can I get you two?” I’m interrupted, just as I’m about to lay into him, by the waitress as she stops by our table to take our orders.

  Without looking away from my furious gaze, James orders, “A black coffee with one sugar for me, and she’ll have coffee with two creams and two sugars. Oh, and bring a slice of that chocolate cake you have in the display case upfront.”

&nb
sp; She quickly scribbles down our order in her notepad and leaves.

  “I’m not even going to ask how you know the way I take my coffee. Or that I was eyeing that cake when I came in earlier.”

  “You’re learning.” That smirk is back on his face again, the hardness that came into his eyes at the mention of other men bleeding away into the softness and the warmth that I’m quickly becoming familiar with. “What plans do you have for the day?”

  “Plotting ways to run away from a certain arrogant, domineering ass,” I quip, only half-joking.

  He chuckles and leans down to kiss my cheek, and those damn butterflies start fluttering in my stomach again. Then he proceeds to tell me about the meetings he has to attend today and a few quirks of his managers and executive officers. His dry wit as he retells some of their actions makes me laugh as I relax against him and sip at my coffee, made just as I like it.

  I pick up my spoon and take a bite of the decadent, mouth-watering chocolate cake that has been set in front of me, closing my eyes in bliss and moaning at the burst of flavor that melts on my tongue. I feel James tense against my side, and I open my eyes to look at him, but his burning gaze is fixed on my mouth.

  “You should have a bite. It really is amazing.” I offer him a spoonful, but he leans down and swipes his tongue at the corner of my lips before straightening up again.

  “It doesn’t taste as sweet as you,” he declares as he licks his lips.

  I blush, my gaze dropping down to the spoon in my hand.

  He trails a finger over the heated surface of my cheek then gently says, “Eat up, baby. I’ll drop you off at your house before I leave for the office.” His palm comes to rest on my thigh, the same wandering digit now swirling patterns on my bare skin through the hole in my comfortable, worn jeans. Just as I’m about to take another bite, James turns my face toward his and says gruffly, “Oh, and firecracker? I love that you keep leaving your marks on me.”

 

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