Chained to You, Vol. 1-2

by Alexia Praks

  The sickening feeling when he noticed both the Mexican and the Albanian trailing her wasn't pleasant. Fuck, the naive girl didn't even notice a thing, even ten men following her every move. He had no choice but to brand her his to make sure they knew Mia belonged to him, to protect her. If he hadn't decided to follow her himself this evening, either the Mexican or the Albanian would have gotten her by now. They would've forced Andy out of hiding and killed both brother and sister to shut them up.

  Aria's voice came through loud and clear. "Oh, okay, then. I can't wait to see her, though." She giggled.

  James chuckled. "Are you in bed?"

  "Hmm?" came the reply.

  "Aria?"

  "Yes, Daddy?"

  "Daddy won't be home for a couple days. I have business, okay?"

  "Oh." She sounded disappointed.

  He chuckled. "When I'm home, your Mia will be there with me, all right?"

  "Promise?"

  "I promise," he replied. "Now go to sleep."

  "Okay, good night, Daddy."

  "Good night, sweetheart," he replied and then hung up.

  After putting the cups in the dishwasher, he headed upstairs. His eyes lingered at Mia's door for a brief moment before he finally went into his own bedroom.

  He'd just finished showering and getting ready for bed when the phone rang.

  "We have a problem," Scott said the moment he picked up.

  James sighed. "What now?"

  "It's Eric," Scott muttered. "He's fucking crazy."

  James laughed as if Eric were never crazy, as were all them Maxwells. "What's he done now?"

  "You need to talk to him, James. He's bloody leaving for Japan in a couple days."

  "What the fuck for?"

  Scott sighed on the other end of the line. "He wants to stop the wedding."

  "Shit!" James swore. He'd known Eric was against their old man's wedding to this Japanese woman the whole time, but he didn't think he actually wanted to wreck it completely.

  "You have to talk him out of it, James," Scott said. "Eric doesn't listen to me. He'd listen to you, though."

  James sighed. "All right, I'll talk to him."

  "We can discuss it over lunch tomorrow," Scott added. "I'll text him."

  "Sure, thanks." He was about to hang up when Scott stopped him.

  "So you found yourself a little rabbit, eh?" The brother chuckled. "I heard she's very pretty."

  "Fuck!" James swore again.

  "Andy's sister?"

  Nothing could go past Scott without him noticing. He was as sharp and shrewd as their old man. There was no need to deny the truth.

  "Yeah," he said. "She came to me."

  Scott laughed. "She came to you? Lucky bastard."

  "She came to settle her brother's debt," James said.

  "Is it settled yet?"

  James smiled. "I'm pretty sure it's a done deal."

  Scott must have heard that light, amused tone in James's voice, and he chuckled. "I know exactly what's on offer."

  "Fuck off, Scott," James muttered.

  Scott ignored the warning and laughed hard out. "Bring her around. I want to meet the woman who makes my brother forget about two million."

  "I will, as soon as she signs the contract," James said.

  "How long?"

  "Five years." There was no need to hide it from Scott. He'd figure it out on his own in a split second. In a way, they had the same taste in woman. Even Eric, who was a fucking nuisance.

  James should have seen the signs with Whitney when both Scott and Eric said they couldn't understand why he'd marry the woman because they didn't see anything beautiful about her. They were right, of course, and he had come to realize it a bit too late.

  "What if you get sick of her?" Scott voiced his opinion.

  James smiled. "I won't," he replied confidently.

  "What if she gets sick of you?"

  A knot formed in his stomach. "She won't."

  "You're a harsh man, James," Scott said. "Good luck."

  James frowned. "What for?"

  Scott just laughed, like he always did. "Good night, bro. See you tomorrow."

  "Good night," James said and then hung up.

  For a moment, James stared into space and wondered about Scott's words. Would Mia ever grow sick of him? The thought didn't sit well within him, and he felt sick. Fuck!

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 15

  Mia

  When I woke the next morning, it was bright, the sun just rising across the horizon. I turned my head to my right. Instantly, I sucked in a breath. The view before me was indeed spectacular. The city's buildings glittered like golden jewels beneath the glowing orange. I sat up, my eyes feasting on the sight before me with amazement.

  "Beautiful." The voice reached me, and I jumped.

  I turned my attention to the door and saw the man who had been on my mind the majority of last night.

  "James." I voiced the name between my lips, my heart pounding within my chest. And it was so early in the morning, too.

  Well, to be honest, it was hard not to be nervous around him, especially with him wearing only a pair of tight jeans and nothing else. His hair was wet, so perhaps he'd just showered.

  He came into the room. "I did knock," he said, placing a shirt on the bed. "But you were otherwise occupied." He grinned. "I had to check in on you."

  In case the men snuck in and stole me away? I thought. Or I ran away? Then I thought both hypotheses were outlandish because the security was so tight in this building.

  I nodded in understanding, very aware of my unpleasant appearance. I knew my hair and face were a mess. Feeling self-conscious, I pulled the blanket closer around me as though to hide myself from him. The fact that I was only wearing the I "heart" LA T-shirt and my undies didn't help my feelings of insecurity, either, especially with him so near.

  "I'm making some breakfast and coffee. Would you care to join me?"

  Tentatively, I nodded.

  James smiled and got up from his spot on the bed. "All right. See you soon, then. Oh, I noticed all your shirts are torn." He nodded to the new shirt on the bed. "It's probably too big for you, but it'll do for today." With that, he left the room.

  Alone, I gazed at the shirt on the bed. It was a man's shirt. Mr. James Maxwell's shirt. My heart skipped a beat.

  I pulled the duvet off me, jumped out of bed, and headed into the bathroom. Stripping myself naked, I headed into the shower and washed myself good. Once I was done, I got dressed in James's shirt and my only pair of jeans that was still intact and wearable. Indeed, his shirt was way too large for me, the hem almost down to my knees and the sleeves past my hands. To make it more suitable, I rolled up the sleeves and arranged the hem so it sat properly on me. Once done, I headed downstairs.

  James had breakfast ready as I hopped onto a barstool. He placed a plate of hot toast with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon in front of me. Beside the plate was a cup of coffee.

  "Thanks," I said, eyeing the meal, my mouth watering.

  "No problem."

  I heard the amusement in his voice. I couldn't help myself and had to glance up. Sure enough, he was watching me, his lips quirking up to one side.

  I ignored him and began the meal. Hot, soft scrambled eggs melted in my mouth, combined with crispy bacon and, of course, toast. As I ate, I wondered how a billionaire like him could actually cook. Surely, most couldn't. Since they always had their minions at their beck and call, doing things for them. And this billionaire should be the same, right? I didn't forget there were Ms. Lane, the prim and proper housekeeper, as well as the many maids back at his mansion. Surely, he didn't have to lift a finger. He was born onto a silver platter.

  "What's wrong?"

  I swallowed the delicious food and lifted my head. "Excuse me?"

  James chuckled. "You're frowning. My cooking not to your taste?"

  I grabbed the mug of coffee and took a sip. After swallowing, I shook my head. "I'm just amazed
you can cook. That's all."

  He cocked his head to one side and then laughed. When he stopped, he leaned on the countertop, his face level with mine, his eyes staring deep into my own. I could never get used to that Prussian-blue color. Once again, the intensity took my breath away.

  "Is it so rare, the likes of us cooking for ourselves?"

  I licked my lips as his eyes bored deep in my own. "No, that's not it."

  "Compliment me, Mia," he demanded softly.

  "Huh?" I was confused, and it showed on my face.

  He smiled. "Compliment me," he repeated.

  Needless to say, I was both shocked and amused. He wanted me to compliment him on his cooking? Seriously? Who was this man?

  I searched my brain for a suitable complimentary term and came up with, "It's delicious."

  Of course I meant what I said. The meal was simple yet delectable.

  He became serious all of a sudden, and I noted the glint in his eyes. My heart leaped in my chest as he swiftly moved forward and caught me, his hand resting firmly at the back of my head. He slammed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard and wild that I became breathless. He didn't stop there, either. He parted my lips with his tongue and then invaded me.

  I groaned and shivered deliciously. It was a different type of deliciousness than the food. This was intoxicating, enticing me to want more.

  His tongue was passionate and wild, stroking me and caressing me until my body melted and my mind became a muddle of confusion.

  When he released me from his embrace, I was lightheaded and dizzy. I was still breathing heavily when he said, "Have you made up your mind yet?"

  I wasn't thinking really, and thus, I nodded.

  "Yes?" he probed.

  I licked my lips. "There's no way I can find two million," I murmured softly. I was staring at his lips, and I had no idea why I was doing that. Honestly, I should put some distance between us while we were discussing this particular topic. But I couldn't seem to move. James still had me close to him, his hand still behind my head and his face a mere inch from me. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he spoke.

  It was true where the two million was concern. I'd been going through every possible scenario in my head last night, but there was simply no solution.

  "Yes?" he probed again when I was quiet for a bit too long.

  "I..." I lifted my eyes from his lips to his eyes. Suddenly, I blushed. "If I agreed to your proposal," I said, nervous all of a sudden, "you'd free Andy from his debt? I mean... you won't go after Andy... Andy would be free?"

  James smiled. "Of course," he said, his face stern and serious. "I'm a businessman, Mia. A contract is a contract."

  I licked my lips and nodded. "A business contract," I said. Suddenly, a thought struck me. "A written and signed business contract," I said distractedly. "I... I would have one between us, please."

  He released me and then roared with laughter. I was bewildered at his reaction. When he managed to calm down, he folded his arms across his chest.

  "Well." I carried on, annoyed at his amusement. "I don't want you to go back on your word now, do I?"

  He leaned toward me again and proceeded to stroke my lips as if he found the red, sore flesh fascinating.

  "I would be sad if you didn't want a signed contract, Mia. I wouldn't want you to run off on me," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I'd be sad."

  I cocked my head to one side, wondering why he'd care if I were to run away before the contract ended. It must be his pride and possibly a billionaire thing. And of course, I could never do that, running away before the contract ended.

  Five years was a long time, though. I wondered if I could handle it. But it was for Andy's sake. If both Andy and I were to work our hardest, me as a kitchen hand and he as a waiter, to pay that two million dollars, it would take us the rest of our lives. Unless, of course, one of us won the lottery, which was very unlikely because neither of us had ever bought a lottery ticket before and weren't likely to in the future.

  "I won't run away." I confirmed. "I'll live up to my end of the contract and, you, mister, better uphold yours as well," I said firmly.

  He straightened up. "Sounds good to me," he replied.

  I watched him with interest, my guard up.

  "Follow me," he instructed and then headed toward the living area.

  I slipped off the barstool and followed him as he commanded. He led me into a spacious room that had a great view of the city below. The moment I saw the large, sleek glass desk and leather chair, I knew it was his office. He went to sit on the comfortable chair and powered on his laptop. I reluctantly stepped in farther as he turned his attention to me.

  He must have noticed my low spirits. "Have you changed your mind?"

  I reddened. Even though I was afraid and unsure of what I was doing, of what would happen after the contract was signed, of what he'd do to me, I wasn't a coward. I wasn't the type to turn tail and run.

  "Of course not," I stammered and marched to stand before him, refusing to show him how anxious I really was.

  "Sit down. This won't take long," he said, nodding toward the sofa a few steps behind me.

  I glanced behind and was reminded of the scenario of us together in his office back at his mansion yesterday. I hesitantly moved toward the sofa and took a seat. I was to become his mistress for five years. I knew mistresses performed nightly entertaining with their men, and by entertaining, I meant sex of course. But what else did a mistress do with her man? Oh God! I really hoped the sex thing wasn't an every night session.

  Suddenly, James's statement from yesterday rang loud within my ears. I'd fuck you every night.

  I swallowed hard, and my heart leaped with dread. But surely, it couldn't be that bad, right? People enjoyed sex. There was pleasure in sex. But every night? Who'd have the energy for that?

  The very question caused me to raise my eyes to the man who was to be my future lover. My master?

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 16

  Mia

  The handsome man James Maxwell was busy typing away. There was that something about him I couldn't put my finger on. No, I thought, he would never get tired of doing anything. Just look at him. He was a man in great health. He could definitely manage sex every night without even exerting that much energy.

  My body shook a little at the thought, in both fear and anticipation. Fear because I was stepping into the unknown and anticipation because... because it was James.

  I knew I was jumping to conclusions, of course. To put it bluntly, I was going to be Mr. James Maxwell's mistress, his lover. That was all. There was nothing more to our relationship than that. All I had to do was give myself to him when he wanted me. Sex shouldn't take long at all. A mere twenty minutes at most. I could definitely handle that. And James was very handsome and, thus far, had been nice to me. Yes, I confirmed to myself, I have nothing to fear.

  "Is something wrong?" His deep timbre came my way.

  I jolted out of my contemplation and blinked. "Huh?"

  James cocked his head to one side. "Would you like to add anything to the clauses?"

  I blinked. "The contract you mean?"

  "Yes."

  I licked my lips. I didn't know I was allowed to contribute to the clauses. But since he asked, I jumped at the chance. I smiled and nodded. "Yes, please."

  James laughed. "You like saying please, don't you?"

  I was taught to say please every time I asked for something. If I forgot, my aunt and uncle would slap me on the cheek to teach me to be polite. It was difficult to forget the lessons when one had that type of teachers and even more so when the lessons themselves were brutal and painful.

  "What would you like to put in the clause?"

  "Is the clause mainly regarding the two million or our relationship?"

  With that question, a sly smile formed on his lips and a gleam appeared in his eyes. My response was immediate. He looked both dangerous and seductive at the same time, and
my breath was caught at the back of my throat.

  "Both," he said.

  I tried to calm my furiously racing heart, but it was difficult. I licked my lips and said, "I see." Once I managed to calm myself, I took a slow, deep breath. Then I suggested, "Can I get weekends and state days off?"

  I thought I was acting smart, but James laughed. When he finally managed to stop, he said, "This isn't a normal work contract, Mia."

  I blushed. Of course I understood it wasn't a normal work contract between an employer and an employee. But surely, I was entitled to my days off, too?

  "I'm a busy man," he said, matter-of-fact.

  His blunt statement raised hope within me. Of course businessmen were busy people. They worked all hours of the day, and I would probably not see him most of the time, except for maybe weekends. The sex things would only likely happen once a week. The thought both pleased and disappointed me, and I didn't know why.

  "I see," I said. "Of course."

  I raised my gaze and saw James watching me.

  "Anything else?" he asked.

  I shook my head, and he continued typing. I instead turned my gaze from him to the scenery outside. I watched the lovely view whilst he finished up our contract. It didn't take him long, and once done, he walked over to me and handed me the papers he'd just printed.

  I nervously took them. The thin pieces of paper were warm against my skin. I concentrated and read through the clauses. I was surprised there weren't so many it made my eyes cross. To be honest, I'd never read a real business contract before, except for the one I'd signed before I started working as a kitchen hand back home. This particular one had both my name, Mia Donovan, and the billionaire, James Christopher Maxwell, on it.

  I couldn't help myself and glanced at the man before me, watching me closely with his expressionless face. I decided then the billionaire didn't look like a Christopher. James? Yes. Maxwell? Definitely. But certainly not a Christopher. It didn't suit him.

  Returning my attention to the rest, I noted the words mistress, five years, two million dollars, and a whole lot of others I didn't know or understand. I wondered if I should take it to a lawyer and have it clarified.