Tethered to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 2)

by Michelle F. Adams

  Clarissa looks at both of us with a beaming smile on her face. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, we should get going, James. We can come by tomorrow when Julia is awake.”

  They’re both about to stand up when I shout, “No!” making them freeze.

  Clarissa startles a little, and James growls at me. Shit.

  I gentle my tone. “I meant, not tomorrow. I need some time alone with her first.”

  “A day is more than enough,” James remarks.

  “Three days,” I counter.

  “Fuck no. I’m not going three days without seeing my sister. Not when she’s just gotten back,” he protests immediately.

  I can see we’re at an impasse, neither of us willing to bend. Thankfully, Clarissa intervenes. “James,” she whispers. He turns to her, and she looks meaningfully at him. “Three days? Surely we can give them that.”

  Something passes between them. It makes him smile before he bends down and gives her a quick kiss. “All right, baby,” he says softly. He looks at me and confirms, “Three days.”

  There is agreement and warning in his tone, and I nod in acceptance. I follow them as they walk to the front door.

  “I’ll call you. We need to discuss what happened,” James says.

  I can’t think about Olivia or what she tried to do to my Julia right now, or I’ll lose control. But I nod at James and bid them goodbye as they walk down the front steps.

  Closing the door, I head upstairs. When I walk inside my room, I see Julia is awake and sitting up in bed. Her hair is mussed, and the sheets are tangled around her waist. As soon as she sees me, she smiles, and I go to her and sit by the side of the bed.

  Her color is back, and her energy, which had previously been subdued, is now shining bright again. “How’re you feeling?” I ask her as I palm her cheek.

  She nuzzles her lips in my hand and murmurs into my skin, “Much better.”

  I pull her closer with an arm around her waist and make her straddle my lap. “James and Clarissa were here. They just left.”

  She stiffens and whispers, “I don’t want to go back home right now.”

  “I know. I asked James for some time, and we have three days. He was worried about you. They both were,” I say.

  “I’ll call them tomorrow.”

  She wraps her arms around my neck. I loop mine behind her back, and we sit there like that, in silence, content.

  “Did you find out who did it?” she asks a while later.

  “You don’t know?” I’m surprised. She had to have known who locked her in the filing room.

  “No, they pushed me from behind, and when I was inside, they locked the door. I never saw them,” she replies.

  I soothe one hand up her back and tangle my fingers in her hair. “I don’t want to talk about them right now. Let James and I handle it.”

  She looks up from where her head was tucked under my chin and starts to say something, but I cut her off by pushing her so she goes tumbling backward onto the bed.

  “Your brother knows about us now,” I tell her as I climb over her prone body.

  Her breath speeds up, and she clutches the sides of my shirt in her little fists.

  “You know what that means, don’t you?” I ask.

  “W-what does it mean?” Her voice is trembling, just like her body, with need. I want to satisfy all her needs from now on.

  “It means I can touch you now. Any way I want.” I grasp the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. I’ve seen her naked once before, in James’s office, but this is different. She’s in my bed. In our bed. Where I plan to make her mine.

  Her eyes are full of questions. “Was that the only thing stopping you? His permission?” she asks.

  I stop and look down at her. “His blessing,” I correct her. My voice lowers, and I regard her with serious eyes. “Listen to me when I say this, Julia. I don’t need anybody’s permission to make you mine. You’ve always been mine. I was just waiting to claim you.”

  Her eyes turn molten, and she is silent for a minute, absorbing this. Then she says softly, “His blessing then. Was it the only thing?”

  She wants answers, and I want to give them to her, but I need something from her before that. “Give me this first,” I plead. Before I give you everything is left unsaid, but it’s still between us, charging the air and robbing us of breath, of sanity.

  She nods and takes hold of my hands, guiding them to the waist of her jeans. I bend down and kiss her, and she mewls like a little kitten as she kisses me back. I unbutton and unzip her jeans and drag them down her body, tossing them to the floor.

  My hands move of their own accord. From her shoulders to her arms, skimming past her breasts and gliding over her stomach. Fingers sifting through her light patch of hair. Learning her body. Worshipping her beauty.

  I get up from the bed to undress, and Julia squirms under my intense gaze before she lifts the sheet and covers her body with it. I want to protest, but this is her first time. It’s our first time. I’ve been patient for five years. I can be patient some more. I’ll do anything for her to feel safe and comfortable with me.

  I climb in the bed and pull the sheet over both of us, hiding her body from view. I move slowly, shifting closer to her until our sides are pressed together. I can feel her heat warming me. Thawing me out. Unfreezing all my cold parts. Making them melt. For her, only ever for her.

  She squirms restlessly, her breathing increasing. I lift my hand under the sheet and slide it over her skin, gliding down her stomach until I reach her liquid heat.

  Lace. Fucking delicate lace greets me. Soft and innocent, just like her. It feels like silk over the back of my hand as I slide my fingers inside. Her curls are damp to the touch, and she moans as I sift my fingers through them.

  “Shh. Easy, easy.” I soothe her as I slide my hand lower, cupping her sex in my palm and squeezing lightly. Possessively. This is what I was waiting for. This is my reward. Mine.

  Her sweet honey juice seeps out of her and wets my hand. I slide my middle finger up her slit to her little hood and push it back, revealing her shy, little clit to my seeking digit. There it is. My treasure. My prize to claim.

  I swipe it once with my finger, and Julia’s whole body jolts, her hands coming down to grip my wrist. I don’t know if she’s holding me back or pressing me down harder.

  I lean over her and bend down to her face. “Lift your hands and put them behind my neck,” I tell her.

  She complies quickly, and I reward her with another swipe. She shudders in response, her eyes drifting shut.

  I pull my hand back and move up, my fingers petting through her soft patch of hair. Her eyes snap open at my withdrawal. I move down again and draw a circle over her clit. Her back arches, and her nails dig into the back of my neck. Her eyes fall closed again, and I stop.

  She opens them, and her gaze collides with mine, full of fire and light. I grin teasingly and whisper, “Yeah, sweetness?”

  “Brandon,” she groans. “More. I need more.”

  “I know,” I say as I lightly trail my fingers down her slit to her small, tight hole. “I know you do. But take it from me, just like this.” I pull her panties to the side and hook the tip of my finger inside her pussy, barely entering her. “Allow me to gift you with the gentle lovemaking you deserve.” My finger slides another inch inside her. “Before I fuck you so hard your insides will be sore for days after.”

  Her breath hitches in her throat, and a look of apprehension crosses her face.

  “I won’t do that right now. Can’t have you talking to your brother on the phone tomorrow with your pussy on fire, can we?” I groan into her ear, taking the lobe into my mouth and tugging on it.

  My thumb makes slow circles on her clit as my finger slowly glides inside her. Jesus. The hot, wet tightness that surrounds me is enough to make me come. I’ve had my tongue inside her and I know how she tastes, but to feel it, feel her, is amazing.

  “You’re so tight, sweetness.
I won’t last ten seconds when I get inside you for the first time,” I tell her, moving closer to her until my cock is brushing the outside of her thigh.

  Julia jolts like a live current has gone through her body.

  She reaches a hand down to touch me, and I stop her with a growled, “No.”

  She looks up at me in question.

  “If you touch me right now, I will explode,” I explain to her. When she still remains unconvinced, I add, “And I want to be inside you when I do that.”

  Her breathing turns choppy, and she squirms in my grip, her pussy pulsing on my finger. I grasp her hand and lead it to her breast, trapping her fingers between mine as I pinch and tug at her nipple. Julia looks down at our entwined fingers on her left bud and gasps, the eroticism of the picture heightening the color in her cheeks.

  “That’s it, Julia. Keep watching us. See how I pleasure you,” I rasp and then glide our palms down her stomach until we reach her pussy still stuffed with my finger.

  I let her hand go and put mine above the pillow where her head is resting so I’m leaning over her with a clear view down the length of her body. The sheet which was covering us is pushed down to her thighs now. She hesitates, and her hand remains still.

  “Come on, sweetness,” I encourage her. “It’s just like last night.”

  The reminder has her body flushing with heat, and more juice seeps out of her pussy. I lube another finger in her wetness and slide it inside her. There’s a slight pinch and stretch, and she shifts restlessly beneath me, so I lean down and kiss her, my tongue tangling with hers and drawing her mind away from the pain.

  I feel her hand moving between our bodies, and I break the kiss to look down at her. She has two fingers on the outside of her swollen lips, spreading them open. The sight of her touching herself undoes me.

  I grab the base of my cock and, removing my fingers, fit the head inside her clenching, sweet pussy. Her fingers brush against the side of it, and she squirms with need, wanting more.

  With one hand holding my weight on top of her, I use the other to jack the length of my cock, the tip stuck in her pussy hole. She watches me in a trance, moaning every time my knuckles hit her clit on the upstroke.

  “Keep your pussy open,” I tell her. “I want my cum to shoot up inside you. You want to be my dirty girl? Then I will dirty you up with my seed.” My hand starts to pick up speed. “I’ll spray paint it on the inside of your body.”

  Her fingers tighten on her lips, spreading herself more. “Brandon, Brandon,” she starts chanting, and I know she’s close. There’s none of the hesitation or fear I witnessed last night when she couldn’t come. This time, she’s unrestrained and passionate and beautiful to behold.

  I’m lost in her reactions when she comes, head thrown back, throat exposed, fingers twisting in my hair. She’s a woman unafraid to take her pleasure, and I’m so transfixed by her I don’t realize I’ve stopped pumping myself until I feel a small, soft hand touch the base of my cock. The moment it wraps around me completely, I’m gone. I groan Julia’s name and clench my teeth above her head as I come. Violently. My seed shoots up inside her still pulsing pussy, leaking out of the sides, gathering in a small pool between our tangled legs.

  After the last spasm runs through my body, I barely have enough strength to slide off Julia and collapse on the bed. I’m breathing like I’ve swum the length of an Olympic pool ten times, sweat coating every inch of my body.

  Julia turns her head to look at me, a satisfied expression on her face. She runs her hand up my chest and over my jaw, tracing my lips. I catch her wrist and pull her closer, and she comes willingly, fitting herself into the crook of my arm, her head resting on my shoulder.

  I fist my hand in her hair and trail the other up her thigh where she’s thrown her leg over my waist. We lie there in silence, both immersed in our own thoughts. I stroke her soft skin and replay the last few minutes in my head. She’s blown my world apart.

  The day I met the sixteen-year-old girl I knew my life had changed forever. One look at that golden halo around her head and the sky-blue eyes, so soft and full of life, and I knew I would never be the same man again.

  It isn’t until I’m holding her in my arms, our bodies cooling from the heat of our mutual passion, her pussy filled with my seed, that I realize the depth of that truth. She’s my world.

  Thinking about what could have happened today, what did happen, will haunt me in my sleep. It was my worst nightmare come to life. Julia, not safe somewhere, needing me, and I couldn’t get to her, didn’t know where she was.

  I need to tell her what she means to me. I need to let her know about my past before our future can begin. So, with a deep breath to inhale her fresh, musky scent, I start my story.

  Chapter 7

  Julia

  I feel Brandon’s chest expand against my side as he takes a deep breath and then starts talking. The horrors he reveals next will ring in my ears for a long time to come.

  “I was twelve the first time I killed a man,” he says and then stops, looking down at me to gauge my expression.

  I keep my face neutral even though my heart is beating like crazy. Twelve. Oh my God. Twelve.

  He pulls me up a little so my head is resting on the pillow next to his. Then he turns his head, buries his face in my hair, and doesn’t look up again until he finishes.

  “He could have been my father. I don’t know. My mother was a prostitute. She worked at the local club in the small town where we lived. She didn’t plan on having me. I know this because she told me. In those exact words. Repeatedly.”

  He pauses for a minute, his voice breaking. I want to tell him to stop and never speak of this again. But at the same time, I want him to continue so he can get it out. Like seeping poison from a wound.

  He continues, “I was an accident. With one of her regulars. She never told me who it was. I don’t think she even knew.”

  His hands roam over my back, disjointedly, bumping into each other in rough, uneven strokes. I don’t say anything, silently listening.

  “She was going to end the pregnancy. But her manager told her not to. Said he would pay her if it was a girl. They could have…they could have used a girl. In the club. When I was born, she didn’t know what to do with me. Barely acknowledged me most of the time. Felt cheated out of her money. Said I owed it to her.” He pauses, and a breath goes in and out before he continues again. “The other women sometimes gave me food, and when I was older, I would steal money from the customers’ wallets and pay them for it. It was…hard.”

  I shift a little and bring my hands up, running them through his hair.

  He sighs and speaks again. “Being in the same room, in the corner on a thin blanket, pretending to sleep as she entertained her clients. They didn’t care that there was a child in the room. They were usually out of their minds with drugs. But I could hear everything. No matter how much I tried to shut it out, I could always hear.”

  He shudders, and his breathing slows. I try to pull back to look at him, but he just clutches me tighter, shaking his head in my hair. I still again, and he starts speaking once more, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotions.

  “When I was around twelve years old, there was this man. Older, in his fifties, I think. He was a regular. One day, he was drunker than usual and in a rage about one thing or the other. I can’t remember what it was now. But he started beating her, my mother. He started taking his anger out on her, and she let him. Remained silent the whole time.”

  He clutches me closer. It’s a death grip, and it cuts off my air, but I don’t protest.

  “I was facing the wall, but I knew the sounds were different. I got up and ran over to them. Tried to stop him. He had hit her so hard she was having trouble standing up. I ran around the room, looking for something to stop him with. I picked up an empty bottle, climbed on top of the table, and hit him from behind with it. I was a small boy, malnourished and weak. But that day, I hit him in the head with everything I h
ad. He slumped on top of her. Blood was everywhere, and my mother was screaming at me.”

  His voice grows distant, and I know, as solid as his body feels in my arms right now, he’s not here with me. In his mind, he’s back in that room. With a dead man and a badly beaten, bruised, and angry mother. He’s back in that twelve-year-old’s body, reliving the memories. Wanting comfort and not finding it anywhere. I want to turn back time and hug that boy, give him the comfort he would have needed, but I can’t. So I tighten my arms around the man instead and hope it’s enough.

  “That’s what I remember the most. How she screamed,” Brandon recalls. His voice has gone empty and toneless, and that’s what scares me the most. I don’t know how to bring him back to the present. “I thought she would thank me, hug me, something. She was my mother, and I had protected her. She wasn’t religious, but she believed in God, and that day, covered in blood—hers and his—she said…she said I had damned my soul to hell. She never looked at me the same again.”

  His mouth moves in my hair, shifting the strands as he inhales deeply.

  “I left when I was sixteen, and I never looked back. I did odd jobs here and there, waitressing and bartending. A bouncer at a club, security guard at a bank. Until your brother hired me as a driver then offered me a job as a part of his security team. It was just another job in a long line of jobs I did to survive.”

  He pauses a moment.

  “But then,” he continues in a stronger voice, and a little of the old Brandon starts creeping in again. I’m so relieved I hug him to me tighter. “One day, you came with James to the office. You were standing by the windows behind his desk, looking up at the sky. The sun was shining down on your head and…your hair. It looked like it was glowing. And when you heard me come in, you turned and smiled at me, and I felt…I felt…like I had come home.”

  He finally lifts his face from my hair. Little strands are caught in the stubble on his jaw, and I smile and use my hand to smooth them away. He holds his palm over my hand, keeping it pressed to his cheek as he looks into my eyes. Unflinchingly raw and honest. His soul bared to me. He’s not in the past now; he’s here with me, in my arms. Giving everything of himself to me.