Bound to You: Volume 2
Copyright 2014 Vanessa Booke
First Edition
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of these publications may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
These books are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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Formatting by ShoutLines Design
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are far too many beautiful people to thank for this book. Here are just a few. To my writing buddies, Mel, NJ, and Brandy, you guys are amazing friends and my first real cheerleaders. This story would have not see the light of day without you. I can’t thank you enough for being there for me. To my beta readers, thank you! You guys really gave me wonderful feedback. Not just positive feedback, but feedback that actually helped me strengthen this story and make it better. Nelle, thank you for helping me get my details right, and for being a supportive fellow author and friend. I’m so glad I met you. To my street team, thank you ladies for helping me get the word out about Bound to You. You guys are my ray of sunshine. It feels good to know I have such wonderful people cheering me on. I couldn’t have asked for a better bunch. To my readers, without you, this story would still just be a dream in my head. Thank you for letting me introduce you to Nicholas StoneHaven and Rebecca Gellar. I hope you’ve fallen in love with them just as much as I have.
Lastly, I would like to thank my husband for his continued support. Ryan, you always joke that you somehow tricked me into marrying you, but tricks weren’t needed. I knew from the moment we had our first date – you are the one. Thank you for believing in me, for loving me, and for choosing to make a life with our fur babies and me.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Nicholas
Rebecca
Rebecca
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
Nicholas
Rebecca
About the Author
“Our scars make us know that our past was for real.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
“We are all fools in love.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
5 Years Ago
The sound of his heart monitor slowing down sends a sharp static pain through me. His chest rises and falls. My eyes will him to breathe, and each time his chest swells back up, I release the air I’ve been anxiously holding. I move closer and wrap my hand around his. His skin is cool beneath my fingers. I can barely make out a pulse as I press against his wrist. Hold on. My world is crashing all around me. Please wake up, Alex. I hear soft whimpers in the background coming from my sister, Emily. She sits in the corner of the room, detached from the rest of the world as she curls herself in a ball on the chair.
“He’s gone, Nick,” she cries. No. I refuse to believe that the only real thing keeping him here with me is this respirator. The world seems like fragmented pieces of film playing inside of my head. It was only hours ago that we were at the river. I can’t think of time when we were happier. Things like this don’t just happen. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed him to do it; I knew the cliff was way too high. He would still be here if I wouldn’t have dared him to jump. He was just trying to impress everyone.
“Nick, Dad’s on his way,” Emily says, clutching her phone. I hear her get up from the chair. She wraps her arms around me and cries into my shoulder, sobbing my brother’s name over and over.
“Nick, say something,” she whispers.
I can’t say goodbye. I won’t. Not today. Not ever.
Alexander StoneHaven, heir to the publishing empire, dies in cliff jumping accident. Drugs likely involved.
I slam my fist into the wall dividing my bathroom from my bedroom. A part of it breaks almost instantly beneath my heated grip. Particles of dust fly off of my knuckles like ash. Lies. Bullshit. I can’t believe she would do this to our family. I pull my bloodied fist from the wall. The pain is excruciating. Good. If only I could forget the pain she’s caused this family with her lies.
I crush the newspaper in my hands and fling it across my bedroom. My mother spun her lies and sold my brother’s death to the papers. I can’t think of a single human being that would actually do that. She’s a fucking monster.
My father was so blind.
Present Day
Rebecca Elizabeth Gellar
On paper, she’s every employer’s wet dream. My cock twitches at the sight of her name. It sits there taunting me. As much as I would like to pretend seeing it has no effect, it does. Rebecca’s HR file is still sitting on my desk. I’ve been looking it over trying to find a way into Gellar’s head. Her letters of recommendation only confirm my assumptions about her work ethic. Letter after letter praises her professionalism, attention to detail, and her adaptability to any situation. There’s not a single thing that will help get rid of her, and she’s all too willing to fight me on this.
I know she’s just as attracted to me as I am to her. Call me a cocky motherfucker, but I know it’s not all in my head. Rebecca might have a tough exterior, but she’s shy on the inside. I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling she isn’t used to men eye-fucking her. The incident in the elevator was confirmation of just how easy it is to push her buttons. If I really wanted, I could scare her off, but I know she’ll be a valuable employee to my father’s company. I just can’t have her around me, because whether I like it or not, Rebecca makes me feel like a caveman. She makes me feel like the only thing I need to survive this cruel fucking world is the thought of being inside her, and right now, that’s a dangerous mindset.
My breath hitches as I slide Rebecca’s picture out from a second manila folder delivered to me an hour ago. The sight of her face looking back at me from her photocopied driver’s license sends electric waves down my body. There’s a certain gleam in her eye. I’ve seen it once before. It’s the same self-satisfied look she gave me right before she kneed me in the balls only hours ago. I shift in my chair, readjusting myself. My cock throbs beneath the soft fabric of my pants. I hold back a moan as it grazes against it. Blue balls is an understatement to how I really feel. The image of Rebecca walking away from me still makes me crazy. If I had the ability to actually get up within those 30 seconds, I would’ve thrown her over my knee and spanked the living hell out of her. Never in my twenty-eight years of existence has a woman ever done that to me. The funny part is, if she was trying to drive me away, it only made me want her more. I know it’s stupid to want her. Really stupid. Bu
t I can’t seem to stop.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s out of that crazy, beautiful head of hers… or maybe she’s the smartest little fireball I’ve ever met. Rebecca is definitely a mystery. There’s plenty about her that I don’t know. I shouldn’t need to know, but I want to.
This needs to stop. In less than five months, I’ll be married to Alison. The thought of being chained to her for the rest of my life is so fucking depressing.
“Nick, you asked to see me?”
I look up, startled to find Striker, one of my father’s employees, standing at the office door. It’s almost seven o’clock at night; I’m surprised that he’s even still here. Striker has been with StoneHaven Publishing since I was 23. He used to be a security agent for an international organization that provides security detail for the rich and famous. He’s also my father’s best friend. My father happily recruited him out of retirement when my mother started sending my father threatening letters.
“Is everything here?” I ask as he stalks over and takes a seat across from my desk. The chair squeaks under the weight of his stocky frame. He casually sits back, fiddling with the knob on his watch, as if he has all of the time in the world. After the incident on the elevator, I phoned Striker, who was quick to get me information on Rebecca. I’m not usually the one asking him for favors, but I have a feeling Rebecca won’t answer any of my questions willingly.
“Yes, you’ll find everything from her bank statements to her phone records. I also looked into her family’s background,” he says, hesitating.
“And?”
“Nothing, they’re clean.”
“Thank you. If anything else comes in, send it my way.”
“Sure.”
“And Striker, I would prefer if my father didn’t know about this.”
He flashes me a smile. “Why do you need such detailed information on your assistant, Nick? The company does routine background checks.”
“I’m not looking for basic information,” I confess.
A smug smile spreads across Striker’s face. “You like this one, don’t you?”
“This one?” I ask, ignoring his smirk.
“The redhead. She’s cute. A little spunky, but cute.”
“You’ve met her?”
“The elevator camera, Nick.”
“So you saw her knee me in the balls? And you did nothing?” I ask, surprised.
“You looked like you were handling it just fine,” he says, letting out a low chuckle.
“Right, what do I pay you for?” I ask, laughing.
“You don’t. Your dad does.”
“Of course, how could I forget?”
Striker is all too familiar with my M.O. with women. I do one thing and one thing only – I fuck them. I’m sure he gets a kick out of watching me salivate over Rebecca. He’s well aware of the number of assistants I’ve run through. I think most people are. He’s not really one to judge me, but this is the first time I’ve heard him verbalize that he actually likes one of my assistants.
If only liking my assistant didn’t mean there would be hell to pay later. I should be in control of the situation, yet Rebecca makes me feel anything but in control. There’s a part that scares me and then there’s the haunting fact that every time I see her, I’m heartbreakingly reminded of the one woman who ruined my confidence in all women. My mother. Father made the mistake of not knowing who she really was. My mother destroyed our family.
“Thank you for your help,” I say.
Striker nods, leaving me to rifle through the layer of documents on my desk. I settle back in my chair and pull open Rebecca’s file. It seems most of the information that Striker has gathered is just fragmented pieces of Rebecca’s life. Toward the back of the folder I spot an article clipped from a gossip magazine. I’m surprised to even see it in the folder. Why would she be in a tabloid?
My eyes zoom in on the photograph of Rebecca in an embrace with another man. She’s smiling as he leans in to kiss her. A strange sensation fills my chest as I scan the photo. Beneath it is a caption that reads: Just as this article went to press, Miles Storm broke off his engagement with his longtime college girlfriend, Rebecca Gellar. He is now dating his costar Scarlett Jones. I clench my teeth. Shit. Who is this fucker?
I pull my tablet out of my briefcase and type the names “Scarlett Jones” and “Miles Storm” into my browser. A dozen or so pictures of Rebecca’s ex-fiancé and his costar bombard my search result. Each one reveals a little more than the last. I’ve learned in my experience that there is always a story behind a photo. In this case, the paparazzi are the ones telling it. To my surprise, Scarlett isn’t as beautiful as I was anticipating. Sure, she has nice tits and a big ass and she’s probably what most men would think of when you say the word beautiful, but she’s nothing like Rebecca. I’ve seen plenty of both to know she’s more.
Miles Storm. The name looks familiar. It takes me a moment to place him from the photos. I scroll through a gallery from a TV studio set that I recognize. The photos are scenes from a show my sister Emily watches. I’ve seen him before. I know his character. He’s the guy Emily is always pining over when she watches Future Outlaw. As I scroll through another pair of photos, I realize there’s an article attached to one of them. I click it and the headline that pops up sends my head spinning. Miles Storm Cheats on Fiancée with Costar.
Fuck. This man broke Rebecca’s heart. I’ve never been one to believe tabloids or celebrity gossip sites, but I have feeling this time they got something right. That piece of shit. Anger erupts through my veins as I read the gritty details of the article. He didn’t even have the decency to break it off with Rebecca before fucking another woman. This is why Rebecca instantly hated me. This is why she pushed me away. It all makes perfect sense.
I force myself to unclench my hands, aching from being fisted into angry balls. What I wouldn’t give to end this motherfucker. For the first time in my life, I actually feel like the asshole most women make me out to be.
One week later…
“I totally get it, Becca. You want him to fuck your brains out,” Carol says, throwing me a you-know-it’s-fucking-true look. I roll my eyes at her as she stands at the doorway of the guest bathroom analyzing the teal dress I’ve put on and my nude colored pumps. It’s been a week since I’ve seen Nicholas StoneHaven, aka my overly vain, but gorgeous boss. I thought I would be starting work the same week of my interview but I was scheduled to come in the following Monday. I think it’s in my best interest that it worked out that way. Kneeing my boss in the balls was probably not a good idea, but watching the expression on Nicholas’s arrogant face when I did it was priceless. I don’t regret a single moment of it and I particularly don’t regret the feeling of his eyes watching me as I left him clutching his precious “jewels.” I know it was beyond stupid to hurt him. He’s the owner’s son. In reality, I’m surprised I still have a job. At least I hope do. Call it pride but Nicholas StoneHaven is not going to scare me off that easily. He can smirk at me all he wants. I’m staying.
Stefan, Nicholas’s father, warned me his son would challenge him when it came to having another assistant, but he promised if I could stick it out then he would hire me permanently, in my department of choice. We’ll see if I change my mind after a few months, but I’m leaning toward a job in publicity. I think it would be exciting to work with authors to promote their books. That’s all I want. I want to work my dream job without having some playboy paw at me every time I see him. Is that too much to ask for? Probably. It doesn’t matter. I’m not letting anyone ruin this opportunity for me.
I look up to find Carol peering at me with amusement. I’ve been quiet for too long. I’m sure the wheels of imagination are just churning in her head. She’s like my mother. I’m almost too sure she was a mind reader in another life. She knows me far too well, which means it’s hard to keep secrets from her, and even harder to lie through my teeth.
“I do not want him to fuck my brains out,�
� I mutter.
Carol lets out a laugh as she mocks me with her infectious smile. “Maybe not your brains,” she begins to say, as she walks over and plucks a few stray hairs off my shoulder “But definitely something else. I think that’s why you’re so worked up about this.”
I bite back a smile as she raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. Damn her. I shouldn’t have told her anything. As much as I hate to admit it, in a way, she’s right. I’ve been dreaming about his mouth ever since that night. It’s embarrassing, but twice I’ve woken up panting from dreams of Nicholas’s head between my thighs. Each time I revel in the thought of pulling his hair, crushing his lips against me, and riding his face. As if waking up panting in your best friend’s apartment isn’t embarrassing enough. Damn, I need to stop thinking about him. Get a grip, Rebecca. He’s engaged…
“I need to steer clear of him, Carol. I told you Alison is his fiancée. We both met her at Riptide, remember?”
“He obviously doesn’t want to be with her,” Carol says, cutting me off. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s engaged. I can’t stoop to Miles’s level. He cheated on me with another woman. If I sleep with Nicholas, how am I any better?”
I was stupid to think someone like Nicholas could be a good guy. No, men like him just want to fuck you, use you, and then leave you. I’m not going to be that woman anymore – the one who’s naïve enough to think that she can change a man with a bat of her eyelashes. Fuck that.
“You’re not anything like Miles,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Seriously, nothing.”
I clear my throat hinting that it’s time for a change of subject. I can feel tears threatening to escape. Carol pulls a pair of earrings from her jewelry case and holds them up to my ears.
“You should wear these.” The aquamarine earrings look more expensive than all of the jewelry I own put together. They’re beautiful.
Bound to You: Volume 2 Page 1
