I was on my feet before I knew it and striping everything off. I tossed my clothes onto the chair and turned to face Alex.
He was all over me, hands gripping and pushing back on the desk. Leaning over me, he took my face in both hands and then kissed me, thrusting his tongue deep inside my mouth. He cupped my breasts, the pads of his thumbs circling my nipples. My fingers danced along the muscles in his back. I know I’m obsessed with his back.
His hands fell to my ass. Gripping tight, he pulled me forward to the edge of his desk. He angled his cock and slammed into me.
“Oh, fuck yes, Alex,” I moaned, my nails scratching along the nape of his neck.
My eyes fell to his cock and I watched him pumping into me, sliding in and out with brilliant strokes. A whirlwind of thoughts zipped through me and my eyes flicked up to Alex’s. Something heavy smashed right into my heart. Ripples of raw emotion flowed as I pressed my lips to his. He kissed me hard, with urgency, a compliment to the screaming of my need for him.
I needed all of him. I needed Alex. Not just in the physical sense, well, I needed that too, I wanted all of him—mind, body, and soul.
His fingers slid over my clit and I fell apart—blown to bits by a wildly shattering orgasm.
I licked my lips and met his eyes. “That was incredible.”
He nodded and nipped the skin along my neck and shoulders. “You’re incredible.”
The pad of his thumb stroked my cheek and his lips met mine for a gentle kiss. For a long moment he stared at me, almost as if he was trying to communicate something that words just couldn’t.
I felt it too . . . it was powerful. And in that moment, my whole world centered on Alex. A long time ago, I gave away my heart and today it was returned to sender. Complete and whole and full of love—love for him.
WHILE ELLA FINISHED HER shower, I took it upon myself to put together a little impromptu carpet picnic in the media room. Only one food was on the menu and that was a carton of crème brûlée ice cream from Häagen-Dazs and, of course, the bar was open. I created a romantic mood by tossing a few blankets on the carpet, stacking up half a dozen pillows and lighting some candles.
The music was still playing in the office and I trekked down the hallway to turn it off. My office smelled of sweat, of sex, and of Ella. I stared at the corner of my desk, the space where she’d spread her legs for me, moaned my name and came all over my cock. This was the woman I’d been required to protect. Now she was living in my house, sleeping in my bed, and bound to me in an entirely different manner.
As I brushed past the coffee table, the event invitation for the fundraiser fell onto the floor. After scanning the details one more time, I tucked it back inside the envelope. Then I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop and added it to my calendar. Yes, I was going to go. I owed it to Sasha and her family to be there.
I needed to tell Ella about Sasha. In fact, I wanted to.
“Alex? Where are you?”
After hitting close on my calendar, I stood up and walked back towards the media room. I couldn’t help but stare at Ella. She looked beautiful wearing a pair of frayed jean shorts and a grey tank top. Her blonde hair, still wet from the shower, spilled over her shoulder.
She bopped back and forth on her bare feet. “What’s all this?”
My hands came up to the sides of her face. “I thought we’d have some dessert before dinner.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“Are you trying to shag me in every room in the house,” she whispered, rising up to her tiptoes to kiss me.
“I’m all for having sex with you again, but I actually meant food—ice cream to be exact.”
“Mmmm, my favorite.”
“I know . . . crème brûlée even. Now, have a seat and I’ll bring everything to you.”
She laughed and then sat down, tucking her legs underneath her. After scooping the ice cream into two bowls, I sat them on a serving tray along with spoons and napkins. My mother told me presentation was everything. This surely would have exceeded her expectations.
“Here we go,” I said, placing the tray between us.
She slid her hair over her shoulder, drawing my eyes to her flawless, creamy skin. I thought about marking it with my teeth just above her breast. It was an odd thing to think of, but in other weird news, I fucking loved the thought of branding her as mine.
“Oh, yummy, thank you,” she replied, picking up a bowl and spoon.
“So, I was thinking. Would you like to go to the gala with me?”
Her brows rose. “You want me to go as your date?”
“I’d like to have you there with me, as my guest.”
She hung her head and twisted the spoon back and forth in the bowl. My heart stopped for a moment. Shit! Had I fucked this up? Where this thing between us was concerned, I could be reading all the signs incorrectly. Was she feeling something more? It felt like something more than just sex, but I’d made that mistake before. Having my heart shredded has made me a giant pussy.
“Ella, look at me.” I tucked my fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a big social affair and I don’t want to embarrass you.”
Her words caught me off guard. “Whoa, wait a minute.” I set my bowl down, and took her hands in mine. “Sweetheart, you could never embarrass me.”
“Trust me, if this is a high profile event, then I most certainly could.”
“How exactly?”
“If just one person recognized me as David Warner’s ex-girlfriend, it wouldn’t take long before the crude jokes flowed as freely as the drinks.”
“Well, the drinks wouldn’t be free,” I joked, hoping to ease her worry.
A small smile crossed her lips. “You know what I’m trying to say.”
“This group of people wouldn’t do that and even if someone did, they’d have to deal with me. Do you worry about this all the time?”
“No, this is more of a recent development in the hot mess that is . . . was my life. All this stuff with Charlie has me a little unnerved. It’s opened the old wounds.”
My mind churned. I didn’t want Ella to feel like she should go into hiding because of this Charlie situation. Life is meant to be lived fully and without fear. Easy words to say, Alex. I didn’t have an obsessed possible stalker, making crude threats towards me.
Calm her, reassure her.
“I get that, I do. And hey, we’ll close up those old wounds for good—together.”
“Together,” she repeated.
“Yeah, live fearlessly.” I heard the irony of my words. I should take my own advice. “What do you say; will you come with me to Chicago?”
“Chicago? You never said it was the Windy City! Yes, I’d love to accompany you to the event.”
She started rambling. “Pizza. Deep Dish. Wheat. Magnificent Mile. Shopping. Navy Pier.”
Leaning close, I kissed her while grabbing at the bowl in her hands.
“Hold it right there, Mister. I’m finishing this bowl of heavenly decadence first and then I’ll make out with you.”
I laughed and dug into my own bowl. Settling back on the pile of pillows, I thought about a myriad of things. Ella. I loved having her in my life, and if I was being honest, I really liked having her here with me. I’ve been down this road before, but this time something felt different. And that scared the living shit out of me. Ella’s reaction stirred up questions. I considered the possibility of more.
What would happen once this ordeal with Charlie ended? When he no longer posed a threat, my job would cease to exist. This job was only supposed to be temporary while I got my shit together.
Things at Robertsen Security were going very well. Patrick, my right hand man kept me updated on the day-to-day business through emails and video calls. We had a once weekly meeting, where he’d brief me on new and existing contracts. He and the rest of the team were doing a hell of a job. Of course, I’d considered having him run the office back in Grand Rapids indefinite
ly. For the moment, plans for East Coast expansion were put on hold as I focused on more important matters. Ella. Her safety was my highest priority.
Over the last few weeks, with Ella staying here, I’d studied her, watching as she sketched the layout of her floor space and coordinated color schemes for her boutique. I was in a constant state of arousal every time she painted that red color on her lips or the way she smiled at me over her mug of coffee. It was a rarity that she’d drink tea anymore and her use of English slang terms was few and far between. Gone were the days of someone being a wanker, instead douchebag was now her go to insult.
We’d fallen into an easy routine. Grabbing coffee and a box of healthy pastries at one of the cafés followed our morning workouts. There were long afternoon lunches on the pier and some lunches where food was skipped entirely for extended sex marathons. There were also nights of binge watching television, she loved sitcoms the most—Friends and Will & Grace were her top choices. I finally got her to watch Game of Thrones. Although she spent most episodes with her hands over her face, all the violence made her squeamish.
Tuesdays and Thursdays were becoming my favorite days of the week. Sleep deprivation was worth it watching Ella bending and twisting her lithe body into yoga poses by the pool as the sun came up over the dunes. All the while, I tried to figure out what she was thinking.
Ella tried to give me money for rent or groceries. I explained that her money was no good here. She insisted I take some form of compensation. Offering the suggestion of trading sexual favors for room and board earned me a dirty look and a punch in the arm. One evening I found a random hundred dollar bill tucked in my underwear drawer. The gesture made me smile. More bills showed up as the weeks went by—another hundred showed up in the pocket of my dress shirt and two mysteriously appeared in the console of my Range Rover. The bills now took up space in my office safe. Maybe I’d invest in her boutique or upgrade the security system.
Ella wiped her mouth on a napkin and set her now empty bowl back onto the serving tray. “So while I was in the shower . . .”
“I like the beginning of this story already.”
“My brother . . .”
My brow scrunched. “Okay, maybe I don’t want to hear this.”
“I knew that would get your mind out of the gutter. Ronan texted me and said his, uh, friend, Grady is sending over two invitations for the Stars and Stripes Polo Challenge this weekend. Do you want to go?”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Technically, you’d be my guest since Ronan made the donation,” she said, curling beside me.
I laughed. “Touché. I’ll still make a donation. Would that earn me a kiss or two?”
“Maybe, it might be worth the risk. My first Fourth of July holiday and I get to celebrate with you.”
For a moment, I pondered asking her where her mind was with the future—more specifically with us. Would it be worth the risk?
“First, we’ll watch the fireworks, and then we’ll come back here and make some of our own.”
“Alex Robertsen,” she breathed, and tilted her face to mine. “Do you think about anything other than sex?”
That was a loaded question.
“Yes,” I murmured against her lips. “I think about more than just sex.” My hands tangled in her hair and she dropped her cheek to my shoulder.
I’ve dealt with many delicate situations in my life, but this was one risk that I hadn’t been fully able to assess all the details. Probability and desired outcome, those were two things I could calculate in less than ten seconds. Things were unclear and this Charlie McNeil situation needed to come to an end soon.
ALEX MANEUVERED HIS RANGE Rover through the gates of The Harbour Polo Club. It was a beautiful day for a polo match. The sky was a magnificent shade of cobalt blue and the warm breeze was gently rustling the tall grasses and abundance of flowers that decorated the sprawling property. In the distance sat a huge white tent with a sea of well-dressed people mingling about underneath it. Directly across from the tent was the pristine polo field, just waiting to be torn up. White chairs under logo umbrellas lined the untouched brilliant green arena.
After Alex parked we walked towards the tent, his hand brushed against mine. Heat spread everywhere, spiraling downward, warming that deep ache I had for him. I so badly wanted to lace my fingers with his; instead, I bumped his shoulder.
We were approached by a woman in a dress with blue and white stripes holding a clipboard. The diamonds draped around her neck reflected the glint of the sun, casting dazzling flashes of light.
I presented my invitation. “Miss Ella Connolly and guest,” she announced to no one in particular before pulling the paper from hand. My shoulders tensed, but I managed a bright smile. After ticking our names off the VIP list, she directed us to the red carpet, which was actually blue.
Slightly nervous, I turned to face the cameras and Alex stepped aside. I took a deep breath, and focused on something positive. I thought of all the money this event would raise for the various causes. Protecting and preserving US landmarks and the Heroes of America fund.
“Live fearlessly,” I mumbled to myself.
Cameras flashed and popped as I switched my up my poses. My balance faltered and I wobbled slightly. In a fluid move, Alex hooked his arm around my waist, an unspoken reassurance of security. Tingles flitted over my skin. He was my protector, hired in a professional capacity to take care of me. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to daydream that we were here as a legit couple. We were taking risks with our flirting and touching. Anyone looking close enough might believe that we were together.
“I got you, sweetheart, just breathe.” His warm breath fanned across my ear, stoking the burning embers deep in my belly. Alex looked sexy wearing white trousers with a plaid dress shirt under a navy jacket. I complimented him, donning a navy pleated skirt with white and green stripes paired with a crisp white blouse.
The day before the event, I’d purchased a white pocket square with navy piping for his jacket. I told him accessories made the man. He frowned, but indulged me anyway. Standing side by side, we could have been one of those preppy couples in the Ralph Lauren ads.
Despite the event being a private, invitation only event for charity, I knew there was a chance the pictures would turn up on social media or in gossip rags, not just the society pages. Excitement and fear danced up my spine. Sweat formed on my skin, making my fingers slick against my leather clutch. Alex and I had been screwing around for months and I wondered if the soon to be published pictures would uncover our deliciously dirty little secret. Part of me wanted to take a leap and live my life the way I wanted. What I wanted was Alex. To be able to throw my arms around his neck and pepper him with kisses and let the whole world know. Mostly, I wanted to tell him I’d fallen for him. Loved him. Trusted him. Even if he rejected me, I would know that I was capable of loving someone again. That alone felt amazing.
When we stepped off the carpet we made a subtle dash for the bar. To my surprise, it was a family friendly event. The East Harbour Athletic Club had sponsored the kids’ tent, complete with pony rides, arts and crafts, and organic strawberry mint and raspberry lemonade.
My eyes scanned the crowd, admiring all the fashionable couples and their well-dressed children. Little girls in gauzy dresses mirrored their elegant mothers’ lace frocks. Boys dressed in colorful gingham prints paired with khaki pants. Some wore hats, others donned suspenders.
“You look beautiful.” His eyes took me in with sincerity, but the raw hunger was also visible.
“Thank you, so do you.”
Alex let out a low chuckle. I blushed realizing the humor in my compliment.
“I meant to say you look sexy as hell.” My fingers toyed with the lapels of his jacket.
The bartender interrupted our moment. “Hello and welcome, what can I get you?”
Alex discussed potato vodkas with the bartender, which made my smile grow wider. He knew my drink order—he
didn’t even have to ask. Looking around the tent, I noticed several men drinking tall glasses of beer. At these events in London, guests sipped Pimm’s or champagne. I wondered what Alex would order? My guess was a scotch and soda.
“Here you go . . . one vodka soda with a twist of lime.” Alex handed me the glass along with a napkin, just as the bartender came back with his drink—a beer. Damn, he fooled me.
With his hand on the small of my back, he led me to one of the high top cocktail tables. A few of the polo players entered and I looked to see if Grady James was part of the crowd. I’d like to thank him again for the invitation.
“Alex? Alex Robertsen, my God it is you!”
A woman dressed in a pink and white silk dress nipped towards us with champagne in one hand and a pearly white box clutch in the other. She looked elegant with her wavy black hair tied up in a ponytail and tucked under a wide brimmed hat topped with delicate flowers.
“Francesca, nice to see you,” Alex replied before kissing her cheek. They were appropriately affectionate, she complimented his attire and he politely thanked her.
“Francesca Baldwin, I’d like you to meet Ella Connolly.”
“Hello, lovely to meet you, Francesca.”
Narrow brown eyes looked me up and down as she slid her hand into mine. For a moment, I thought back to when Alex and Gavin had met. I wondered if I should wrap my arms around Alex and stake my claim just as he had done. Was she an old girlfriend? Former lover?
“Ella, it’s a pleasure meeting you.” Her lips formed a sweet smile. “Alex, she’s quite beautiful.”
“She is,” he agreed and tossed me a wink.
Glancing between the two of them, I asked, “And how are the two of you acquainted?”
“Franny here, is a friend of the family.”
Approval of his answer gleamed in her smile. “Yes, we practically grew up together. In the summers, our families spent many weekends together at the lake.” She turned to face me. “But I know what you’re really asking; you want to know if we’ve slept together?”
Bound to Me (The Harbour Series Book 1) Page 15