by Measha Stone
He kissed her neck, her cheek, her mouth, wanting every bit of her. Her ankles crossed behind his back, pulling him in deeper.
“Ah, fuck,” he growled as he quickened his pace. “Move your hand, baby. Touch yourself for me.” He maneuvered his body so her hand could slide between them. The moment her fingers found her clit, he could see it in her eyes, she was close. “Come for me—come with me.” He covered her hand with his and moved his fingers along with hers over her clit.
Her eyes flew open at his touch, and he held her gaze as they played with her swollen clit together, his dick still rhythmically rocking within her.
“Alex...I...god, I have to come,” she declared. As the waves hit her, he found his own release. He thrust into her hard, her convulsing flesh milking his orgasm from him.
The sun had begun its ascent, threatening to fill the room with bright light at any moment. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her, wishing to hell she didn’t have to be at the diner.
If he had known she was going to pick up a second job, he would have had Bradley increase her pay. She was already working the max shifts she could at the club. He’d told her he wouldn't micromanage her life, but two jobs was not going to fly with him—if only for his own selfishness of wanting her with him at all times.
“You are a much better alarm clock than my phone.” She smiled.
Chapter 14
Alyssa untied her apron and slid it over the top of her head, grimacing at the smell of it. There had been a small grease fire in the kitchen during her shift, and in the process of helping to douse the flames in baking soda before they began to gobble up the entire kitchen, she'd managed to get as much baking soda and smoke on her as she did the stove.
She'd also managed to get a burn on the inside of her left wrist for her trouble. Turning her hand up, she could see the blister already forming and hoped she'd be able to hide the injury from Alex until she could get it wrapped neatly. The diner was in the middle of a rush, so she didn't have time for first aid. Instead, she'd washed it as quickly as she could and got back to work.
She glanced at the time on her phone as she gathered up her purse with a groan. She'd stayed later than she wanted to and was now left with no time to go back to Alex's to shower and change. There were three texts from him asking when she was getting off. Having the suspicion he'd show up if she told him the exact time, she'd declined to answer.
Alyssa slung her purse over her torso and headed out the back the door. The heat of the summer afternoon only accentuated the potency of the dumpsters behind the diner. She couldn’t go out with this stink clinging to her. She needed to get cleaned up.
Thankfully, she had tucked an outfit in her bag that morning, just in case she had to go straight to the club. She’d make a quick stop at her apartment for a shower and still get to the club in time without smelling like burnt bacon. There was no other choice.
She shot Alex a quick text telling him she worked longer than expected and would just head straight to the club. Before he could get back to her, she turned her phone off. He’d want to come get her and drive her. After taking one whiff of the stench on her, he'd make her go back to his apartment to shower instead of letting her just shower at her place, making her late for work.
It may not matter to him that he was an owner and she was a worker, but it mattered to her—a lot. She wouldn’t give the other staff members any reason to think she was getting special privileges because of her relationship with Alex. It was bad enough they would think she got the job because of him once they figured out they were a couple.
Alyssa skipped the elevator and took the stairs up to her apartment. The heavy smell of curry hung in the air when she stepped onto her floor, and she had to breathe through her mouth. After a quick shower and wardrobe change, she flew back down the stairs and burst through the front doors to hail a cab. She had twenty minutes—which was exactly how long it would take, if traffic behaved.
"I thought you were heading straight to the club," a voice questioned behind her. Her waving hand fell to her side, and her stomach twisted. She turned to find Alex leaning against his car, arms folded over his chest. There was no smile. No dimple or turn of his lips. His jaw was tight.
"I am,” she said. "I just needed to shower and there wasn't time to go back to your place."
"Let me see your phone." He held out his hand as she made her way over to him. They didn’t need to make a public scene.
Her last boyfriend, Stephen, had gone through her phone a lot. Always checking up on her, demanding to know where she was—he took micromanaging to a new level. He wanted to keep tabs on her at all times. She couldn’t take the suffocation of his type of dominance. And she wasn’t going to go through that again with anyone. She had far too much independence to bow down to such insecurity again.
"Why?" she asked cautiously. Alex said he wouldn’t micromanage. He promised he wouldn’t crowd her.
"Let. Me. See. Your. Phone," he said again with deliberate pauses between each word. She opened her bag and pulled out the phone.
He wrapped his fingers around the flat screen and pressed the power button. Once the phone sprang to life, he handed it back to her. Without another word, he pushed away from the car and opened the passenger door. "I'll drive you."
The look he gave her warned her against protesting. She slid into her seat, avoiding his eyes. She winced as the door shut and watched him walk around the front of the car toward his door. She hadn't made it even twenty-four hours before pissing him off. Great start, Alyssa!
"I'm sorry I had my phone off," she said once he was settled in the car. He nodded without looking at her and turned the ignition.
Wasn't he going to say something, yell—do something? He’d looked so irritated when she came out of her apartment, how could he say nothing? It was her apartment after all! She needed to shower. It made the most sense, and she had left a few toiletries there just in case. He was being unreasonable.
"How did you know where I was anyway?" she demanded as they drove closer to the club. Just a few more turns, and he'd be in the parking garage around the street. He still said nothing, but his jaw clenched tighter. "Did you sit outside the diner all day like some stalker?" She was irritated he continued to play silent games with her. "I don't do the Christian Grey thing." She threw at him when he pulled into a reserved spot near the elevator of the garage. Once the car was in park, she threw open her door and jumped out.
"Alyssa. Come here." His deep, even voice stopped her mid-step before she reached the elevator. He hadn't yelled, or even slammed his door. She took a deep breath and turned to him. She didn't want to screw everything up just when it was starting. She wanted him happy with her again, but she wasn't going to be anyone's doormat—not again—not ever.
Once she was within touching distance, she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. His jaw released some of its tension, but a storm brewed in his dark eyes.
"Did you enjoy me ignoring you?" he asked firmly.
"That was a game?" Great.
"No, no game. Did you enjoy it?"
"No." Her face heated. She'd been doing just that all day with him. "I'm sorry I didn't text you back. I was working."
"I get that. Did I text you too much?"
"No, not really. It's not that." He’d been respectful of her time, she couldn’t lie about that.
"Then what?"
"I'm going to be late. Can we talk later?" she asked, jerking a thumb toward the exit.
He shook his head. "No."
"Fine." She returned his glare and sighed heavily. "I don't really know why I didn't respond." She told the truth. It hadn't been a game, but she could see how he'd see it that way.
"And going back to your apartment?"
"I had to shower. I was late, and if I'd grabbed a cab back to your place, I would have been even later."
"I know. That's why I wanted to pick you up and bring you back, so you'd have time."
"It's still my apartment, Alex. I can go there whe
never I want." She was back to feeling defensive. "And how did you know I was even there?"
"I was on my way to pick you up from the diner. Since I hadn't heard from you, I figured you were really busy and might not have had time to get back to the apartment. When I got your text about going straight to the club, I had already turned down your street. I saw you going into your building."
The bubble in her chest burst. She'd been an idiot. "So, no stalking?"
"No. No stalking. I was making an attempt at chivalry." His lip turned up a bit at the corner, his eyes softening as she dropped her hands to her sides and let out a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I told you, I'm not good at this." The heat in her cheeks spread to her ears. He pulled her to his chest and placed a kiss to her forehead.
"You don't have to be good at this, not yet. We'll work on it. Together. But I do want you to do something for me tonight. I want you to think about this, really think about why you want the submissive role. What appeals to you about it, why you enjoy it, or even if you enjoy it. Then we'll talk tonight." He cupped her chin and pulled it up until their lips met in a warm, passionate kiss. It wasn't demanding like the others. This kiss was tender, but it stole her breath with as much ferocity. "You're late for work. Let's get upstairs."
Once in the elevator, Alex picked up her arm with the white bandages wrapped around her wrist with a questioning look.
"Just a little grease fire this morning. It's nothing." She pulled her arm back and went about adjusting the strap on her bag. The burn throbbed, but she did her best to ignore it. She had an eight-hour shift coming her way. She couldn't afford to miss it over something as silly as a burn.
"When we get upstairs, I'll look at it," he said, entwining his fingers with hers and leading her from the elevator once they were on the main level of the parking garage.
She thought to ask about going up separately, but the squeeze from his fingers made her think better of it.
"I don't want the staff to think badly of me because of us." She voiced her concern once they were tucked away in the elevator headed to Top Floor.
He faced her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissed her forehead. "If anyone gives you any trouble, you tell me."
"Right. So, my boyfriend, the boss, can deal with it." She rolled her eyes.
"No, so you and I can deal with it. I won't step in with the staff. They aren't my area anyway. That's Bradley's deal. If you need him to step in, you go to him." He brushed a stray hair from her cheek, his knuckles igniting her desire. "I handle money and advertising."
"’Cause you're an ad man?" she asked ruefully, receiving a pinch to her ass for her trouble.
"Yes, ’cause I'm an ad man." He kissed her and moved away as the elevator rang their arrival. He winked at her as he held the door with one arm and waved her through with the other. "After you."
She wanted to laugh, but noticed Brandon waving her over as soon as she stepped onto the floor. Forgetting about Alex wanting to look at her wrist, she hurried over to the distraught bartender.
"What's wrong?" she asked, removing her bag from over her head.
"Did you know Kerri was leaving?" He sounded devastated. "She's moving to Minnesota.”
"No, she didn't say anything to me about it." She shook her head. Although she listened to Brandon as he listed all the reasons it was a disaster, she watched, from the corner of her eye, as Alex made his way through the lounge toward his office.
He stopped at a few tables to speak with members. Everyone wanted a moment of his time, and he gave each of them his undivided attention—when he wasn't sneaking a peek in her direction. Each time he caught her gaze on him, she felt her face flush. She'd never blushed so often in her life.
"You know they are hiring for Kerri's position," Brandon said as Alex made his way into his office.
"Well, I would think so," she said. "Why don't you apply?" she suggested. The brooding look on his face quickly morphed into pure terror.
"Absolutely not. I'm no good at confrontation or being in charge. What if everything went to hell? No way."
"I think you'd do a great job." She rested her hand on his forearm. He continued to shake his head.
"Nope. But you should." His eyes went wide at the thought. "Yes. That's a great idea!" His jaw dropped open.
Alyssa laughed. "Yeah, 'cause I've been here all of three weeks."
"What's so funny?" Kerri joined them, resting her tray on her hip. "I need two Bloody Marys," she told Brandon.
"I was just telling Alyssa she should apply for your job. You know, the one you're abandoning." Brandon pulled out two glasses.
"Abandoning?" Kerri rolled her eyes. "He's been like this all day. Robert got offered a great job, it would be stupid not to take it," she told Alyssa. "He's not wrong, you know. You would make a great manager." Placing the tray on the bar for Brandon to put the finished drinks on, she pinned a serious stare on Alyssa. "Apply." With that, she walked back toward her table.
Alyssa dismissed the hairbrained idea and made her way to the locker room. The lounge was already half full of couples and small groups discussing their plans for the evening and enjoying a drink before they moved to the playrooms. She needed to get working. Standing around talking about a position she wasn't ready for wasn't going to get the shift done.
As she put the small black apron around her waist, she noticed the job posting for Kerri's position. She liked Kerri…as much as she'd been able to get to know her over the past few. Seeing her go would mean letting go of her comfort zone. Kerri had taken her under her wing immediately, showing her many of the duties some of the other waitstaff didn't handle. She'd taught her how to book private parties and how to upsell the packages. Alyssa had enjoyed the extra work—it gave her something to do other than slinging drinks and appetizers.
"There you are." Alex's voice caught her off guard. "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you." His grin was anything but frightening. He looked too damn sexy to be so casual. Even in his well-made, recently pressed suit, he looked laid back.
"You didn't." She finished tying her apron.
"I want to look at your wrist before your shift. Come into my office." He didn't wait for a response before walking away. She let out a sigh and followed, avoiding the eyes of anyone in the lounge as she walked toward his office.
"It's not that bad," she told him as the door to his office closed behind her. He pointed to the chair behind his desk and marched off to his private bathroom. "I already cleaned it," she called out to him as he reentered the room carrying new bandages.
"I know. I just want to see the damage." He laid out the clean wrappings, medical scissors, which she had a feeling were used for more than first aid, and tape. Once it was all ready, he turned to her, leaning against the desk, and put his hand out.
She thrust her wrist out to him. "My shift already started," she said as his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. The slightest touch from him made her mind swirl. She needed to focus. They were at work.
"It's fine," was all he said.
He slid the medial scissors beneath the bandage and cut away the wrapping, pulling it gently from her skin. He grimaced as he pulled the bandage away and saw the damage beneath. She fought against making noise—he didn’t need to know how much it actually hurt. She hadn't had any ointment at the apartment, so the bandages stuck to her skin more than she would have liked. The blister had already popped beneath the bandage.
"This doesn't look good." He lifted her wrist to examine it more closely. A jagged red line covered the width of her wrist. The skin on the edge was loose from the burst blister, and clear liquid pooled around the edges. "This is a pretty big burn. We should go to the ER." He looked at her with concern.
"No, that's okay. It’ll heal. I just need to keep it clean and put some antibiotic ointment on it." She reached for the bandages. He pushed her hand away and pinned her with a fixed stare.
"This is bad burn," he said again, nodding toward her upt
urned wrist.
"I'm aware of that. It's only a second-degree burn. I need to get it bandaged so I can get back to work." She gestured toward the white strips on his desk.
"How do you know so much about burns?" He already knew the answer. He'd seen her naked; he must have seen the scars.
"Alex, I need to get back to work," she whispered, keeping her eyes away from his. If she looked into them and saw the firmness there, she would give in—and she wasn't ready for that.
"Who?" He picked up the first bandage and began wrapping her wrist. The question hung in the silence between them for a long moment. "Your mother?"
"No,” she answered softly, keeping her eyes on her wrist.
"Your father?"
"No." She laughed. Her father hadn't been in her life for more than thirty seconds. He'd told her mother he couldn't afford to leave his wife and she'd have to raise her child herself. He promised to send money, but never did, and moved his family away where she couldn't track him down. Alyssa was supposed to have been her meal ticket, but instead, she'd let her down and was nothing but another mouth to feed.
"Who?" His voice was chilled. She looked up at his eyes and saw the stone in them. He wasn't angry with her, but seemed very determined to know what happened. Her scars weren't very large or dark anymore, having faded a lot since she was a child, but they were still evident. She had hoped he wouldn't mention them.
"One of mom’s boyfriends," she whispered, turning away from him.
"It wasn't an accident, was it?" he said, no question lingering, just fact.
"No." She pushed her shoulders back and straightened her spine, squaring off with him. "Sometimes, I got in the way." She looked him in the eyes as she spoke. "I didn't mean to, but I was only seven. My mom was taking forever to get ready for their ‘date,’ and I kept asking her questions about something. I don't even remember what. He got tired of me, grabbed the curling iron from my mom's vanity, and…well, I stopped asking questions."
Alex finished taping the bandage. He held her hand in his, his thumb stroking the inside of her palm.
