For Her Protection: An Alpha Romance (15 page)

“Didn’t sleep last night.” That at least was completely true.

Melanie came to her desk, and took the seat opposite her. “Well I’m afraid what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to improve your day.”

Shit
.

Really? What more could go wrong? “Just lay it on me, Mel.”

Melanie sighed and handed her a single paper.

Charlie stared at it. A printout from a popular news outlet.

“Halifax Communications—how an Heiress is bringing an end to an empire.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stared at the page dumbstruck.

“An inside source reveals that Ms. Halifax today pushed through yet another closure—“

What? Her stomach churned.

“—the source claims that since Ms. Halifax took up the position of President, Halifax Communications has been operating at increasing losses. He claims recent decisions have been knee-jerk reactions, based on inexperience, and a troubling sign of things to come.”

She glanced up at Melanie, her head spinning. “How do we find out who’s saying this?”

“We can’t, I already tried.” Her delicate features twisted. “I’m so sorry. I know this is the last thing you need. I’ve already prepared a statement.”

Charlie held her forehead.

“And a plan of attack. We’ll get you out at a few of our regional sites, get some photos taken—”

“It’s not going to do any good, the damage has been done.” She leaned back. Her energy flowed out like someone had pulled a plug out of her belly. “The longer I stay here the worse it’s going to be for Halifax.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Maybe I should just give everyone what they want and leave.” Her hands curled in her lap. “Maybe everyone would be better off…”

Maybe leaving would be her best contribution to the company.

“Charlie.” Melanie leaned across the desk. “You can’t let them get you like this.”

“I’m so tired of fighting. As much as I love this company, I’ve brought nothing good to it.” She pressed a fist to her stomach. “Every day I wake up, and it’s all I can do to make myself get out of bed. I have this sick feeling in my middle the entire way here.”

Melanie slid back. “But you put in the longest hours, you’re so dedicated, and you’re saying you don’t really want to be here?”

She met Melanie’s gaze slowly. Her friend was amazing at her job, committed to Halifax, and would give just about anything to be sitting in her chair.

“I do, I am dedicated. This place means the world to me…” She flattened her palm on her belly. “But, valuing what you do and actually enjoying it are not the same thing.”

Her gaze slipped to the desk. Shit, did she just sat that? Wouldn’t Frank just love to hear this.

“Well, that’s not something I ever thought you’d say. But I’m glad that you did. Because you deserve to be happy.” Melanie shifted, staring at her. “Which is why you can't let these assholes win.”

She leaned back. “Then what do you suggest I do?”

“You get to the bottom of this, Charlie. You’ll never forgive yourself if you just pack up and give up. You’ve got to see it through.” Melanie smiled. “Then if you fuck off, you do it on your own terms, not because you’ve been elbowed out.”

She leaned across the desk, and squeezed Melanie’s hand. “Is it really fair that you should have all the brains and the beauty?”

Melanie shrugged, and withdrew her hand. “I’d settle for all the money and power.”

Charlie laughed, then let out a long sigh. “So what next?”

“Well right now, why don’t you come out with the girls for drinks?”

Charlie glanced at her phone. It was long past knock-off time. Any other day she may have made an excuse to stay back, that feeling of never being able to do enough, achieve enough, encroaching over everything else. “That sounds perfect.”

Four hours later she opened her front door and went inside. If Connor had followed her tonight, she hadn’t glimpsed him. Part of her wished she’d look over her shoulder and he’d be sitting at a table.

Part of her imagined that she’d take a ten dollar bill and try to buy a kiss from him. Start all over again. She locked the door behind her and toed off her shoes. Her aching arches pressed deliciously into the cool floorboards. She flexed her toes and winced. Too long in heels.

She scrolled through the notifications popping up on social media, where the girls had tagged her in photos. Tagging her again when they checked into the bar. She hadn’t realized they were doing that. To be honest she used social media so rarely she forgot that was a thing people did. Probably not the best practice for someone currently inundated with hate mail and death threats.

She wandered into the kitchen. A large, pink box on the counter halted her. Her heart flipped. Someone had been in her house…

She licked her lips and looked around. The house was quiet—that still, airless kind of silence. Charlie shook her head. Probably Connor. He had a spare key. She tugged at the ends of a bountiful white bow. The ribbon cascaded over the marble countertop.

She pulled off the lid.

Her stomach lifted, and a smile broke over her. Tiny baked goods. The sugary scent hit her, almost making her moan. Little donuts with colorful sprinkles. Mini cupcakes. Tiny cookies. She picked up a cupcake, icing piped as decorative as a full sized princess cupcake.

He’d remembered what she’d told him. Memories absolutely no one else knew about.

What the hell am I going to do about you, Connor Crowe?

She peeled off the paper, sank her teeth into the cupcake, and ate the whole thing. Then licked her fingers the way she had as a kid. Nostalgia hit her, making her chest ache. She slid her phone closer like it might snap her fingers, then flicked through her contact and dialed.

The phone clicked in her ear.

She took a long breath. “Hi, Mom.”

“Charlie?” Her mother’s voice washed down the line. “Is everything okay, it’s late?”

“Everything is fine, I thought it’d be okay to call. I know you never sleep.” But her throat ached. That’s not what her mom really meant. She wasn’t concerned because she’d called late— she was concerned because Charlie never called unless it was a special occasion.

“No, you’re right. I still don’t sleep. What’s up?”

She exhaled. It’d been so long since things had been this way that she couldn’t remember whose fault it was that they hardly spoke.

“I was just wondering.” She touched a little donut. “Do you remember when we used to go to high tea?”

“Charlie…” Her mom’s voice went rough. “Of course I remember.”

“Do you want to maybe go again sometime?” She straightened. “Maybe on the weekend?”

“Oh…”

And there it was. Now she remembered why things were this way.

“Well, this weekend is Harry’s party.”

Her mother hadn’t just left—she’d had a whole new family, three boys—replaced her completely. And this was how it’d been. In the begging when she’d gone to an effort, there’d always been
something
.

Something else, more important than her.

“That’s right, I have a present here.” But this time it was her half-brother’s ninth birthday. She didn’t realize it was his party this weekend, because she hadn’t been invited. “I was going to have it sent over on Monday.”

“Why don’t you bring it yourself, the party is at lunchtime on Sunday.”

Her throat went thick. Even she knew that what was missing here wasn’t completely one-sided. Her mom had presented these little olive branches before. They weren’t necessarily the branches she’d asked for but they were well-intentioned. She’d refused to take them.

Eventually they’d stopped being extended.

It was too hard in the beginning, to sit across the table from Shane, her stepfather. To try and pretend that his relationship with her Mom hadn’t begun with an affair. That he hadn’t broken her family and taken her Mom away.

She stared at the box of tiny sweets. Except some things you don’t see until you’re an adult. Like how miserable Mom had been in her marriage with Dad.

Like how Charlie had ultimately been the one who chose which parent she wanted to live with.

“Okay, can I bring something?”

Her mom’s breath released as though she’d been holding on to it for too long. “Just anything you like.”

Charlie’s gaze flicked to the drawer beside the oven where there were a dozen baking trays she’d bought with secret longings to use, but never had the time. “Alright, see you then.”

“Bye, Charlie.”

She hung up, and collected the lid of the pastry box. A paper fluttered onto the bench—no a flyer.

Her heart flipped over.

She stared at the writing. How did Connor even find out about this? There was a temptation on this flyer—one only he could’ve known she’d find irresistible.

***

What the hell was she up to?

He watched her sneak out of her front door close to midnight. She slipped into a waiting taxi.

What was she doing? She’d already been out…

His pulse picked up.

She’d have found his gift. Perhaps she hated it. There was a chance he’d pushed too hard with the flyer. That she’d see it as another confirmation of ulterior motives.

But when he’d found it, it’d been like a sucker-punch from fate.

What were the odds that the business she’d dreamed about would be for sale right now?

He indicated and tailed the taxi.

Tailed it all the way to the familiar building that sent his blood thickening his veins. He parked and followed her inside.

She sat at the bar, taking on a glass of wine like she wanted revenge on it. Someone stepped in beside her. Some schmuck. A hand brushed her shoulder.

Fuck no
.

He went to his feet. If she thought for one goddamned instant he’d let her punish him like
that
, then screw covert, she’d get motherfucking overt—

She turned, brushed off the touch, and shook her head.

He thunked back down in his seat.

His chest hammered. What the hell had this woman done to him?

Sent him out of his mind with possessive need.

He refocused on the bar, then snapped straight. What the fuck? He’d taken his gaze off her for a second and she’d disappeared…

“Hi.”

Shit
.

She stood beside his table. Her hair swayed around her shoulders. Her vanilla scent reached him. His fists curled. His body braced.

She reached into her top, and drew out a bill. “I’ll give you ten dollars if you kiss me right now.”

Oh, god help him. He almost threw her down on the dirty bar table for daring to play this game.

For making him remember what it’d first been like to take that sweet mouth of hers.

“Do I look like a gigolo to you, woman?”

“No, I imagine the scowl would be terrible for business.” She laughed, the husky sound sinking into him. “But I saw you looking at me, and I really need you to kiss me—right fucking now.”

His whole body shuddered. He rose from his chair.

She swallowed, oh yes she did. He grabbed her by the back of the neck. Her warm eyes sparkled—excited and hopefully a little nervous. Good thing she be prepared, because this time the night would not end with only a kiss.

The drive home
would’ve been torture, if teasing Connor wasn’t such a treat. He’d kissed the sense out of her at the bar, and to be perfectly frank—she’d have finished what they started in the backseat of his car. Except he’d shoved her into the passenger side with a growled warning of what was to come.

The thrumming tension rolling off him was enough to tell her it’d be worth the wait.

She opened her front door, and unlike that first night he drove her home, this time he barged right in. She locked the door, but before she could turn, he had her face-first against the wall. His face buried in her neck. Hands jerking down the straps of her dress. His erection pressing into her ass.

Stripping her bare.

Cracking her desire up and up.

He leaned back, then grabbed her, carrying her swiftly to her room, and set her on the floor.

Then he was against her again. Laying his hard length along her rear. Buttons and fabric gently grazed the skin of her back. He somehow made her almost nakedness infinitely more…
naked
. He guided her hands up.

An ache tightened in her womb. Thickened her blood. He brought both her hands to her chest. Pressed them right over her heart—her heart, which hammered away under their touch. His cheek rubbed against her temple then his mouth moved down, over her check to her jaw, then to her neck.

She sagged against him, held up by the body behind her and the arms crossed over her chest. He moved his mouth against her skin. Every nerve ending she possessed came awake. Pleasure radiated from his touch.

Her nipples beaded, stood erect and waiting for the touch of the hands clutched above them. Then all she could focus on was the flutter of his lips, the wicked stroke of his tongue, the hard bite of his teeth, the grate of his whiskers—kissing, licking, biting, scraping, tormenting their way from the base of her neck to her ear.

Her eyes were open but she saw nothing. Only white.

Sensory overload.

Drunk on passion and he he’d hardly started touching her.

His fingers left hers and covered her breasts—squeezed and palmed them. Air hissed between her lips and she pushed her hips back, found his hardness waiting for her, ground her backside against it.

Moisture flooded her—moisture and a raw ache.

She needed that hardness in her. And right now she’d take it anyway he gave it to her. His touch traveled down. He pushed his hands between her thighs, rubbed them over her. She moaned, the pressure over her swollen clit shooting sensations deep into her cunt.

“You want me here, Charlie?” He rubbed through her panties with his fingertips.

She grasped the fabric of his pants, pleasure streaking through her. “Yes, I want you inside me now.” She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and the stone-hard length of his erection rocked against the crease of her ass.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, moving them forward toward the bed—roughly.

Oh yes.

Her pulse pumped in a frenzy and bumps rose on her skin. Connor scooped up her hair and laid it over her shoulder, exposing her back to him. He kissed between her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms. Maybe she stopped breathing because her head spun and all she could feel was his touch on her, running toward her hands, drawing them to the small of her back.

He held her hands in one of his, caught them there in the dip of her spine above her ass while her shoulders twitched and her fingers shook. His clothes rustled. Something smooth and soft and warm circled her wrists.

Her eyes flew open and her hands uncurled. She glanced over her shoulder.

His tie. The tie he only wore today because she’d purchased it for him when they’d been shopping saying it’d bring out his eyes. The fabric was still warm from his neck. He pulled the knot closed and her wrists squeezed together.

Her chest filled with air. Now she’d pay for stoking his thigh the entire way home. Deliberately driving him crazy.

For batting her lashes and asking,
“Are you alright, Connor?”

He leaned over her, grasped her chin and kissed her with her back still to him—rough and proprietary. Desire flared in her pussy like a puff of air on an ember. He let go of her chin and stepped forward until her thighs brushed the edge of her bed and the soft quilt caressed her skin.

His knee hit the floor with a thud. He knelt behind her, grasped her panties, inching them down over her hips, kissing the skin he revealed. He paused with her panties halfway down the curve of her ass and sank his teeth into one cheek—hard.

Charlie squeaked and glanced over her shoulder. Connor looked up at her with his mouth still on her ass. The look he wore made her want to beg him to bite her again.
Lust, need, worship
. A look that sent those very feelings echoing through her. He jerked her panties down the rest of the way. They pooled on the floor.

He rubbed over her backside, thumbs circling down toward her entrance. They pushed together between her thighs, brushing her lips.

“Say where you want me.”

“Inside me, Connor. Inside me now.”

He guided her forward until she bent at the waist. Her heart fluttered as her face approached the bed, no hands to stop herself. Connor reached in front of her and eased her down until her cheek rested on the quilt.

The movement pushed her ass up, revealed her sex to him and in that moment she knew what it truly meant to be exposed. Bent over, arms tied behind her, bare feet pressed against the ground but still off-balance, pussy on show.

Vulnerable
.

But impatience itched under her skin. Made any lesser emotion impossible because Connor was about to do things to her. Things she couldn’t wait for him to do.

He kneaded her ass with his palms. “Fuck, Charlie, do you have any idea how hot you are like this?”

He slid a hand between her legs and over her slippery sex.

Charlie rocked back, pushing her pussy toward the pressure.

“Is this where you want me?” he whispered, two fingers hovering over her entrance.

She raised herself onto her toes, arching and straining. “Yes.”

He made a wolf-like sound and pushed into her.

Filled her to the edge of completeness, a tease that sent a stream of pleasure into her core. Then it was impossible to stay still. He moved his fingers, no gentleness this time, just that firm rhythm against a place buried inside her that sent the tension swirling tighter.

She bucked and arched, wiggled and strained.

He slid his fingers from her and she yelled something at him that sounded vaguely like English.

Then the rough scrape of his bristles grazed the back of her thighs. He pushed her cheeks open. She gasped, her torso rising off the bed, then his hot, wet tongue replaced his fingers. He licked over her and she dissolved into bliss. Flew toward a blinding orgasm. Only part of her registered the dirty thrill of being licked from behind, him accessing every inch of her. A dirty thrill that sent another bolt of pleasure into her nerves.

He pulled her hips back hard and flicked his tongue over her clit and shoved his fingers back into her. She came apart. Sensations bursting—shuddering through her, stiffening some muscles yet twitching and releasing others, like some kind of bliss-filled fit.

He didn’t stop. Licked and sucked her until the stroke on her sensitized clit was too much.

“Enough.” She twisted from his face.

Connor made a satisfied rumble against her ass then rose. She closed her eyes, catching her breath.

He’d ripped the strength clean out of her.

His clothes hit the floor with a woosh and her eyes flew open again. Somehow her exhausted body found a way to flare with need again. A new ache rose up to bust through her contentment.

The crisp hairs on his thighs tickled the back of her legs and she hummed deep in the back of her throat.

“I’ve dreamed about fucking you helpless like this.”

His erection touched her backside and she jerked, linking her bound hands together and holding on. He rubbed against her ass, sliding just deep enough between her cheeks that the skin on her entire body flushed hot.

He flipped her onto her back on the edge of the bed.

She wiggled against the covers, adjusting her hands against her back, then looked up. Her breath stopped. Connor naked above her. His great big erection pointed right at her. His hard-muscled body rippling with lust that seemed to jump off him in little electric waves.

Her thighs fell open. More open really. Her chest bowed, her nipples aimed to the ceiling. He growled and leaned forward, sucking one into his mouth. She groaned. Her pussy throbbed and ached as though she hadn’t just had a mind-blowing orgasm moments before. Connor leaned up, plucked a pillow from the bed and lifted her head, then placed the pillow under her neck. He ran his hands over her exposed body from her throat to her pelvis.

She arched into his touch like a hungry little cat.

His gaze fell to her exposed center and the muscles in his shoulders strained toward the surface of his skin. He grasped his cock and rubbed it over her pussy. The fat lip of his mushroomed head flicked over her swollen clit.

Pleasure slammed into her womb like a wall of flame.

“Oh, shit,” she groaned, entire midsection straining off the bed.

Connor stared at her and his jaw hardened. He pressed his cock against her pussy.

“Watch, Charlie,” he said, “Watch what I do to you.”

She pulled her gaze from his face to where he entered her. He glided in. One excruciating, blissful fraction at a time. He splayed her open and she could see it. Could see her flesh open to him, surrender, take everything he had. The sight anchored her to her body, stopped her mind from floating away yet made every sensation that much more real. The pleasure all the more shattering. He pulled out then sank back in. Her insides contracted. He looked up from her pussy and his gaze locked on hers.

He let go, plunging into her and fucking her. Movement and pleasure spun her wide out of control. She wanted to reach out, grasp his forearms and hold on. But all she could do was arch and bow and strain. All she could do was take and take and take. So she took. Took until she couldn’t keep herself together anymore. Took it as he gave her every inch of his beautiful cock, with one deep thrust after another.

He filled her beyond fullness. Every vacant emptiness, every hollow she’d ever felt inside, replenished and completed. Then she came, muscles clamping down on his cock and the pressure pushed outward, expanding until her skin felt tight then somehow burst free and pulsed through her entirety.

She shouted and Connor thrust harder then pulled out, shooting hot semen onto her abdomen. He collapsed onto her, breathing hard, and rolled her with him onto her side.

Her pulse slowed, breath by breath.

Her shoulders strained, reality reminding her of the actual awkwardness of being tied up. She laughed softly. Possibly they don’t show that part—the beached turtle bit, that is—of kinky fucking in dirty books and movies.

“Untie me,” she whispered.

He broke into an infuriating grin.

“Don’t like it?” He stroked her hip, so clearly reveling in her helplessness. “I could’ve sworn you got off on it…”

His touch ventured to her ass, and his palm came down on her cheek with a stinging thwack.

Her eyes flew wide, and her gasp broke on a laugh. “Well, if you’re going to keep me tied up like this then you’re going to have to keep it up.”

Another whack landed on her backside, but before she could squeal, the bind on her wrists tugged free.

“That’s a wicked thing to say to a man.” He hauled her thigh around his waist, and stroked where he’d smacked her.

She smoothed up his chest, to his neck. “Then it’s lucky I have you to teach me a lesson…”

Her fingers stilled at his jaw—her heart thudding.

“What?”

She scanned his face. “Do I have you?”

His expression was like a sigh, a sudden tightening before letting go. “You have me, Charlie, what are you really asking?”

Her lungs went hard. How’d he read her so well? How could he know that “Do I have you?” could just as easily be—
can I trust you
?

Do you want me how I want you?

Will you hurt me?

But who was she kidding, “Do I have you?” was most of all—
You have me.

And
I’m scared
.

She swallowed, there seemed to be a beehive in her mouth. Her tongue thick like it’d been bitten. Her throat sticky like it was full of honey. “I know when I found that USB that I didn’t give you a chance to explain.” Her thumb brushed his jaw, watching his stubble shift. “I’m used to being betrayed by people I love.”

His fingers curled in her flesh. Her gaze flew up. His expression heated in a way she’d never seen before. What had she said?

By the people I love…

The words pounded in the back of her head. She didn’t try to correct or take them back. They were true.