Filthy Rich Alpha

by Virna DePaul

  Finally, she grabbed the waistband of his underwear and jerked it down. She immediately found his cock with her anxious mouth and sucked it in, taking it all the way to the back her throat. She still had a hand wrapped around it, jerking as she licked the underside, then swirled around the head of it with her tongue before sucking it all the way back in. She slid her mouth down to his balls and took one into her mouth. She used her mouth and tongue to gently massage it before moving to the other one.

  “Oh, my sweet girl!”

  While she pleasured him with her mouth, she dragged her fingernails across his chest and stomach and down to his thighs. She kept eye contact with him the entire time. She loved watching the pure, raw emotion on his face when he was in the throes of passion. He was usually so controlled, but not when she had her lips on his cock.

  Cara could feel him twitching and swelling in her mouth. The muscles in his legs were tense, and she knew he was getting close even before he pulled her up by her shoulders and kissed her. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  He laid her on her back with her legs hanging off the side. Kneeling between them, he lapped at her swollen, aching clit, then nibbled on it gently. She felt her orgasm starting in her toes and she gasped for breath as it worked its way up. She squeezed Branden’s head between her thighs as she let out a little scream. Wave after wave of glorious orgasm rushed through her, but Branden didn’t stop. He rode out the orgasm, continuing to lick and suck until he’d wrung every last drop of response from her.

  When she’d calmed, he cupped her bottom and shifted her higher on the bed. She saw him slip on the condom. Once he had the length of his throbbing erection covered, he draped her knees over his strong biceps and, still standing, plunged his cock into her. He moaned loudly, beginning to thrust quickly at first and then slowing down to keep them both on the very edge. As he moved in and out of her, he stared into her eyes. They rocked like that for a long time, both of them enjoying the simple pleasure of being connected.

  Nothing else mattered. The rest of the world disappeared.

  Cara licked her suddenly dry lips and said. “I’m yours, Branden. And you’re mine. Nothing can change that. Nothing.”

  Branden froze, then he began thrusting harder. Faster. His head was thrown back and his breaths were so ragged they could hardly be doing him any good. Cara had to grab hold of the comforter and hold on tight as he bent down and gave her all he had.

  “Come again for me, angel,” he moaned. “Now. Come with me.”

  Her body exploded at his command, and then he stiffened and shook, groaning with his own release.

  Moments later, he covered her mouth with his and cupped her face so he could stare into her eyes. There was an intense desire reflected in their depths. A feral gleam of possession. Even so, when he kissed her, he did it softly, cherishing what he held in his arms. Acting with the implicit intention to protect what was his.

  She. Was. His.

  Chapter 26

  Branden pulled the sheet over Cara so she was covered. He smiled, placed a soft kiss on her lips, then said, “We should get dressed. I want to be prepared for anything when Lee calls me back.”

  Cara nodded and slid out of bed. Swiftly, they dressed.

  According to their plan, several of Lee’s men were supposed to watch from the D&M building’s security room and notify Lee, who would be waiting outside with more men, if anyone in the office, in particular Rafe Sampson or Larry Gills, suddenly became agitated or upset. In any event, if such person left and headed to Cara’s building, he or she was to be detained.

  When they were dressed, Branden checked in with the bodyguard outside.

  “No sign of trouble,” he said when he returned. “But Howe’s on red alert, as is the security guard downstairs.”

  She felt a sudden chill and rubbed her arms. “My God. I feel so helpless here. Trapped.”

  Branden pulled her in for a hug. “You’re not trapped. You’re safe. And until we figure out what the hell is going on, that’s how you’re going to stay.”

  After holding her close for several minutes, Branden pulled away to look out her living room window. He examined the street below, then drew the shades. The tension in the air was palpable, the dim lighting symbolic of the pall that had overtaken them. They alternately sat or paced until Cara burst out laughing.

  Branden looked at her, his expression wary.

  “We don’t even know if anyone saw our little show. We can’t just sit here watching the clock, wondering when Lee will call.” She stood, turned on the lights in the kitchen, and took out her frying pan. “Did I ever tell you I make a mean batch of pancakes?”

  He smiled. “I didn’t know that about you.”

  “There’s probably a whole lot you don’t know about me. Why don’t we use this time together to fix that? Ask me anything you want.”

  He cocked a brow. “Anything, huh?”

  “Yep.” She pulled a box of pancake mix from a cabinet, and eggs and milk from the fridge. She started prepping and mixing, and Branden moved to the counter and sat on one of the bar stools, facing her.

  “Okay. When did you—”

  His phone rang and when he looked at it, he tensed. “It’s Lee.”

  She swallowed hard and turned off the burner on the stove.

  “Talk to me,” Branden said.

  As Lee spoke, Branden’s expression morphed from concentration to understanding to disbelief. “Right. Is Deena there?” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there right away.”

  He disconnected the call and locked eyes with Cara. “Larry Gills. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve met him. He’s a trader. Older… Oh, God. Is it him?”

  Branden’s jaw ticked. “Deanna suspected that Rafe Sampson was using him to orchestrate some shady deals. Setting him up to take the fall. We’ve been waiting, trying to find what we needed to take down Sampson and possibly clear Gills. Lee said about ten minutes ago Gills lost it. Started shouting and throwing things around in his office. He’s barricaded himself inside and he keeps screaming, ‘It’s not supposed to be this way,’ over and over again.”

  “What about Sampson?”

  “He never showed up to work today. Mike is trying to track him down even as we speak, and he’s got the help of NYC’s finest at his disposal.”

  “So, Gills… Do you think our plan worked? That he was watching us? That he’s the one that’s been doing all this? Why?”

  “He probably suspected he was being investigated. Thought to use you as a bargaining tool, which is why he’s asking for me now. To bargain. The police are there, but Gills says he has a gun.”

  “A gun? What about the others in the office—are they safe?” Gail and Tammie’s faces charged into Cara’s mind. What if something had happened to them? She’d resisted getting too close to the women for so long, thinking only to protect her own emotional vulnerability. How wrong she’d been.

  “Everyone’s safe—no one’s been hurt. And Gills swears all he wants is to talk to me.”

  “And you’re just going to go? No. It doesn’t even make sense. He has to know there’s nothing you can do to help him. He broke laws!”

  “The guy’s obviously not thinking straight, but I need to get over there, Cara.”

  “Branden, he has a gun—”

  “And I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll be careful. Listen to the police. But if I can diffuse the situation by talking to him, I have to try.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Branden shook his head. “I don’t want you to be part of that ugly scene, and if Gills knows you’re there, it might just agitate him further. He might demand to see you. There’s no way I’m letting that happen. I want you safe. In my penthouse. Howe will stay with you, but the security in my building is a hundred times better than your place.”

  “Okay. But, Branden…” She grabbed his arms. “I—I—”

  He covered her mouth with his. When he pulled back, he ran his kn
uckles down her cheek. “No worries, Cara. I’m wealthy, but I wasn’t truly rich until I found you. No way am I letting anything get in the way of you cooking me those pancakes and telling me more about yourself. Then we’re going on that beach vacation. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she whispered.

  After taking Cara to his penthouse apartment and making sure she was secure there, Branden made his way to D&M. All employees had been sent home and the floors had been evacuated. The only people on site were the police, Lee and four of his men, Deena, and now Branden.

  “Any news on Sampson?” Branden asked Deena.

  “Not yet. Something must have tipped him off. Mike’s tracking him down now. I’m wondering if he called Gills. Warned him and that’s what set him off.”

  Branden didn’t say anything about the trap he and Cara had laid for their stalker. Hopefully, there was no physical evidence of it and no one would ever have to find out.

  He jerked his head at Gills’s office door. “It’s quiet.”

  “He hasn’t responded for the past ten minutes. The police have been strategizing about forced entry. I convinced them to wait for you in case you can talk him out. We’ll tell him you’re here but that you’re going to call him to communicate from an internal line. Sound good?”

  “Sounds like it’s the best choice. ‘Good’ would be this over and me back with Cara.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Deena smiled. “I’ll enjoy getting to know her now that she doesn’t think I’m a coldhearted bitch screwing around on my husband with you.” She faked a shudder. “As if.”

  “You can get to know her eventually,” Branden said. “But after this, I’m taking her away and spoiling her rotten.”

  Deena smiled, then her expression sobered. “All right, big brother, let’s get this done.”

  They’d braced for a showdown of majestic proportions, but the reality of Gills’s surrender was relatively tame.

  A half hour later, the man was in custody. All it had taken was for Branden to get on the phone with him, and Gills had immediately said he wanted a lawyer there to represent him before he came out. One of the best, he’d told Branden, as if he really trusted Branden to pick out good legal representation for him. Unsure what new game Gills was playing but willing to go along so that he could get Gills contained and back to Cara as quickly as possible, Branden didn’t hesitate to contact a well-known defense attorney with a long list of various financiers—many convicted but some acquitted—as clients. Branden stayed, then watched as Gills was unarmed and carted away by NYPD in the company of his new lawyer.

  Branden wanted to interrogate Gills himself. Wanted to search his office and home in order to make sure anything that could embarrass or hurt Cara was destroyed. But he knew doing that would merely jeopardize the prosecution’s case against Gills and Sampson, giving them the means to cry entrapment or tainted evidence. So Branden did the next best thing. He contacted his own lawyer to work closely with the police and move for any protective orders necessary to ensure that anything found having to do with him and Cara was kept under seal.

  “Branden!”

  He turned at the sound of Deena’s voice.

  “Mike’s on his way back. Sampson is in custody,” she said. “Mike said Sampson cried like a baby when they stopped him at JFK and said enough to implicate both him and Gills. There’s more work to do at D&M, but at least those two have been stopped.”

  It was over. It was all over.

  And Cara was safe.

  Thank God.

  “Thanks for telling me. Can you handle things from here? Because I want to get back to Cara, and we’re both going to take a few days off.”

  “Go,” was all she said in return.

  Fifteen minutes later, Branden strolled through the vast lobby of his apartment building, detoured around the indoor grove of ficus trees, headed for the penthouse elevators, and jabbed at the elevator button.

  “Branden.”

  Branden turned to see Mike Gaunt standing beside him, a nylon duffel bag over his arm.

  “Mike. What are you doing here?”

  “I just missed you at the office. I wanted to talk to you about some concerns I have about Sampson.” He patted the bag. “I have new information on the investigation. I was thinking we could have a cup of coffee. I understand if you’d rather do that at the office, but Deena mentioned something about you taking vacation time.”

  The elevator finally arrived. He held a hand against the side of one of the opened doors, ignoring the beeping. He’d rather have a quick meeting with Mike now rather than go into the office tomorrow. He hadn’t been lying to Cara—he wanted to spend some alone time with her over pancakes and then he wanted to take her someplace special, someplace far from the city.

  He thought of the residents’ lounge on the fourth floor. Two coffees, a fast look at whatever it was that Mike thought was so important, a request for a printed report instead of a lecture, and he’d be home free.

  “Uh, I can give you fifteen minutes. But I have to contact someone and let them know I’ll be late. Can you hold that door?”

  “Sure.”

  Branden took out his phone and turned away from Mike to send a fast text to Cara.

  Be there in twenty. Unavoidable bullshit delay. Sorry.

  He stared at his screen, unable to deny the fact he’d been about add an automatic love you. Even during the intense emotions they’d experienced making love, they’d studiously avoided the slightest mention of that dangerous emotion so far.

  Branden hit send, then waited until he got her reply.

  I’ll think of all the ways you can make it up to me.

  With a smile, he slipped the phone back into his pocket. Hell, what was the point in fighting it any longer? He was in love with Cara Michal.

  But he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that for the first time in a text.

  “You first.”

  He waved Mike into the elevator and pressed the number four. Above five, the elevator went express all the way to his penthouse.

  “Thanks so much,” Mike said in a flat voice.

  Was it because he was annoyed with the other man, or did Mike Gaunt’s voice sound more monotonous than ever?

  Branden told himself to suck it up. Mike Gaunt had put in a lot of overtime on the investigation—he didn’t seem to have a personal life, or at least he never mentioned one—and his tenacious attention to the smallest details was invaluable.

  The elevator rose and the numbers lit up. Two. Three.

  He felt a sudden explosion of pain at the back of his head.

  Felt the bone-jarring impact as he fell to the floor.

  Felt a heart-stopping moment of fear for Cara.

  Then felt nothing as he blacked out.

  Cara had just poured two glasses of wine when she heard the penthouse door open and close. Footsteps came down the hallway. She smiled and called, “You’re early. I’m not ready yet.” Of course, he probably wouldn’t mind that she was barefoot and bare legged, her body concealed only by one of his big T-shirts. But she’d been planning on being completely naked and splayed out on his bed when he arrived. With a wineglass in each hand, she turned and walked into the living room, frowning when she saw Mike Gaunt.

  Confusion flooded through her. “Mike? What are you doing here?”

  Gaunt smiled. “I ran into Branden in the lobby. He’s on his way up. Howe let me in.”

  “But why would he—wait a minute.” Cara stepped back. The confusion made way for something different. Something more instinctive. Concern. Worry. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “But I am.”

  Fear. The cold sensation of dread ran up her spine, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Her eyes never left him even as she slowly edged toward the phone on a low table. “Get out.”

  “I just got here. I’d like to look around.” The tension between them seemed to v
ibrate in the air. He covered the distance between them before she could lift the receiver. He grabbed the phone and unclipped the cord. One swift pull and the other end of it came out of the wall jack.

  “What did you do to Howe?”

  Gaunt shrugged. “He, unlike you, believed me when I said Branden had sent me up. Big mistake.” He wrapped the cord around his hand and advanced toward her, backing her into a corner.

  Terror caused her body to tremble.

  “I like it when you look at me like that,” he muttered. “You never have. In the office you always look right through me. And when I’ve followed you, watched you, you never saw me at all, did you, Cara?”

  She swallowed hard. “You mean—the videos. You made those?”

  “Yes. All three of them. I saw you fucking a while ago, just like you wanted me to see, but I didn’t record that. I couldn’t. So I’m going to have to record something else.”

  She seized a bronze figurine on the bookcase behind her, clutching it like a weapon.

  Mike advanced toward her, unafraid. She swung at him with it and lucked out, catching him on the temple.

  Cara tried to dash past him but he stretched out his arms and caught her in a viselike embrace.

  “No. Stay with me.”

  She kicked and scratched at him, then bit him.

  “Ahh, yes,” he hissed.

  Oh, God. Her fighting was turning him on! She opened her mouth to scream and he clamped his hand over her mouth. He forced his leg between hers, crushing her bare foot under his heavy shoe to keep her off-balance and under his control.

  She kept fighting.

  “The fourth video will be the best of all,” he said.

  Branden dragged himself up from all fours, using all his strength to hold on to the elevator railing. His battered brain still worked, enough to figure out what had happened.

  Mike Gaunt had been behind everything that had happened. He was the only one who knew everything about everyone in the office, a classic loner steeped in hate who hid it well. Paranoid. Utterly twisted. And without a doubt, a killer. Branden had only been in his way. Gaunt’s target was Cara.