His Alone Read online

  I grew up in the restaurant and was shuffled back and forth to school by the old Italian ladies who worked there. One would think they would have shown me some kindness, but they mostly made sure I had enough to eat, and left me alone. I can only assume no one wanted to get in the way of Alexander and his crazy lover.

  I’d watch my father come and go, listening to all the things he said, never forgetting any of them. Maybe he thought I was too young to recall some of what I’d seen or heard, but I remembered everything.

  As time went on, I learned to live with my mother’s shortcomings, and took care of myself and oftentimes her. But everything changed when she found out he’d left his family. When she heard that he’d walked out and let them go, she had the moment she’d been waiting for since she was fifteen.

  In my heart, I believe she thought he would finally make her his wife, and pull her out of the dump he’d thrown her in. That this was her moment to shine and be recognized as a woman of worth. Instead, everything went to shit.

  I roll on my side and close my eyes, not wanting to remember the rest. Not wanting to have the images of what happened flash through my mind. As the sun hits my face, I lie there and let it warm me while I try to push away the dark thoughts and all the hate that boils inside me. I wish Captain was back in bed with me. I wish I was wrapped in his arms so he would be all I could think about.

  Then I hear a knock on the door.

  Slipping out of bed, I realize I’ve still got on Captain’s dress shirt, and snuggle into it. His smell clings to it, and I inhale deeply, wanting to breathe him in. I walk to the door with my nose buried in the fabric and look through the peephole. When I can’t see anyone there, I flip the lock Captain must have set when he left, and open the door an inch. Looking down at the floor, I see a small brown bag there and open the door a little more. Looking up and down the hallway, I don’t see anyone, and I reach for the bag, thinking maybe the doorman from downstairs brought it up.

  I take it inside, and close and lock the door behind me. When I catch the aroma of coffee and sugar, my mouth starts to water. Opening the bag, I peer inside to see a small to-go cup and something that looks like a Danish wrapped in waxed paper. On top there’s a note, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

  I’ll have you know that getting you breakfast without a shirt on was interesting. But you’re worth a few stares. I’m running home to change clothes and I expect you to put on your workout gear and meet me downstairs in an hour.

  X Ryan

  I blush and put my hand over my mouth, though I don’t know why I’m trying to hide my smile. On Sundays Captain and a few of the guys I work with train together. I’ve gotten to go to only one session since I started at Osborne Corp because of my schedule, and looking after Mallory. I was always in charge of her personal security, and now that she and Miles are always together, I’m able to go. It’s a normal routine, sparring or working out, going over new security procedures and preparing for the next week, so I don’t know why I’m giddy from the note.

  But then I realize it’s because this is different. Him waking up in my room and bringing me breakfast is not routine, and it’s making me react to him like never before. I try not to read too much into the kind gesture, thinking that this is just Captain. Good to the core and perfect in every way. Even if he has to leave a lady unsatisfied in bed, the least he can do is bring her coffee.

  I eat my breakfast, because like always, I’m starving. Once the Danish is gone I make some eggs. After that, I grab a banana and take it to my room to snack on while I get dressed. Mallory always jokes with me about how much I eat and how small I am, but I shrug, not knowing how to respond. I guess being small takes a lot of energy.

  Reluctantly, I unbutton the dress shirt and give it one last smell before I hang it on the end of my bed. The polite thing to do would be to return it to Captain, but I’ve never been good with manners. It’s mine now, end of discussion. I might not be able to have him, but I’m keeping the shirt.

  After pulling on some workout shorts and a sports bra, I grab my sneakers and lace them up. Captain hates when I wear so little to group exercises, but why would I stop poking at him now? After last night it feels as if there’s even more reason to maintain the tone of our relationship. Knowing that I’m going to make him growly only spurs me on.

  I didn’t wash off the layers of stuff I had put on for the charity event, and it feels like I have a face on top of my face, so I brush my teeth and scrub off the makeup now. Pulling my auburn locks in a high ponytail, I think for half a second about putting on some lipstick, but then don’t bother. He’s seen me without makeup so often, why should I worry now? Things are going to be exactly the same as they were before the kiss.

  The kiss.

  The replay in my mind doesn’t do it justice as I remember the feel of his big body pushing me against the wall. His warm tongue forcing its way into my mouth and how he commanded me to obey. His big palm squeezing my bare ass and the scorching heat that sizzled and crackled between us.

  Gripping the edge of the sink, I try to shake off the memory. He’s technically my boss, and we don’t need this to happen. He’s a perfect guy who needs to find his Miss America and settle down. That thought makes a nasty jealous monster stir inside me, and I shake that off, too. Simmer down, Paige. It was one lame kiss, and I’m sure he was just being nice last night. He says this is the beginning of us, but it’s not. I’m going to make that clear and then move on.

  “Lame kiss, my ass,” I growl as I grab my bag and leave my apartment.

  Chapter Six

  Paige

  * * *

  “YOU LOOK NICE under me, Captain.”

  I reach out a hand, helping him off the ground. Captain’s cheeks are red, and the guys around us are giving him shit, but I feel like I could conquer the world.

  We’re in Midtown Manhattan off Forty-first Street and Bryant Park. There’s a small warehouse here we use for group training sessions on weekends. Along with me and Captain, there’s McCoy, Grant, Sheppard and Jordan. The four guys are all part of Miles’s security for Osborne Corporation and are his personal detail when Captain and I can’t be there.

  Today we’re sparring, and Captain teamed me up with him. I don’t know if it’s the sugar rush or the caffeine I had this morning, but I’ve been on point. I would have thought after last night, he would go easy on me, but he doesn’t hold back. In the back of my mind, I wonder if he knows I’m trying to prove something, and is just letting me get it out of my system. Either way, this is the third time I’ve taken him down and I could still use another round.

  The warehouse is bare, with a ring in the middle and mats around it. One wall is lined with mirrors, and workout equipment is scattered throughout. We usually rotate around the gym until the end of the day, when we enter the ring.

  When I got here today, I’d nodded to the guys like normal and started my workout. First the treadmill to warm up my muscles, and then the weights. I may be small for my size, but I can lift and hold my own. Captain stayed with me throughout my workout like he has the last few times I’ve been here, so having him by my side shouldn’t have been different. It should have been exactly the same as before, only this time my body was all too aware of him.

  I’d waited―hoped, actually―for him to mention the breakfast he left for me. But when he didn’t, I let it go, not wanting to make it seem like it was a big deal. Instead of bringing it up, I decided to play it cool and pretend that my body wasn’t screaming for his touch as we worked out. All day he’s kept his distance, and it’s eating me alive. Normally he’ll find ways to touch me and I’ll pull away, but now that I welcome it, it’s not coming. Maybe now that he’s had a taste he doesn’t want any more. He went back home and thought everything out and has changed his mind. I’m more work than I’m worth. I’ve heard that more times than I want to remember over the years.

  I was anxious to get in the ring because I knew this way I could put my hands on him. Bu
t it’s not the same as when he’s the one doing the touching. Instead of making a grab for me or getting us tangled up in one another, he deflects all my moves and blocks me when possible. Going down and taking the loss without really fighting back. It doesn’t feel like he’s letting me win; it feels like he’s trying not to touch me. And that thought makes me a little angry.

  “You gonna let me win all day?”

  Captain stands and moves to the other side of the ring, watching me. Just as he’s about to say something, a buzzer goes off and the guys all push away from the ropes.

  “Time’s up, Turner,” McCoy yells, and I let out a breath.

  Our session is finished for the day, and I’m overloaded with emotions. I want to get out of here as soon as I can, yet I want to stay and yell at Captain. What is wrong with me?

  I duck under the ropes, grab my water bottle and take a drink. I pack up my stuff and say my goodbyes to the guys as they head out before me. As I throw my stuff in my gym bag I feel him behind me, and I know if I turn around I won’t be able to take the look on his face. It will only remind me that I’m an idiot for wanting someone so perfect. I’ll hate myself, because I shouldn’t have him. I’m not good enough for a man like him, and my past is nothing but trash that follows me around.

  “What?” I say, not turning to face him. He reads me so easily I don’t want him to see I’m upset.

  “You owe me another round.”

  I flip around at his words, angry that he wants to get back in the ring. What the hell? I just took him down without him so much as touching me, and now he wants another chance. No, thanks. I don’t want his pity. I know I’m being a brat because I’m always running hot and cold, and it’s completely hypocritical, but it still pisses me off. He’s the one who started all this. With his touches and sweet words. Maybe a little crush I had on him blossomed and now it feels like he’s the one running. He’s taken away the little touches I’d grown accustomed to. He made me crave them and now I’m pissed I’m not getting my fix.

  “You didn’t get enough nap time in on the mat? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  Reaching behind his head, he grabs the neck of his sweat-dampened shirt and pulls it off. Up and over it goes, revealing his smooth chest and tight abs. His wide rib cage does nothing to hide his muscles. The dark tattoos that wind up his arms flex, and I swear to God if I had panties on they’d disintegrate. Jesus, this guy looks like the after picture on one of those workout videos.

  I swallow audibly.

  “Just one more round. I think I needed to find my rhythm.” His words are punctuated by the sound of the gym door closing. The guys all left in a hurry to enjoy the rest of their Sunday.

  Squaring my shoulders, I reach up and tighten my high ponytail and bounce on the balls of my feet a little. “Let’s do it.”

  The old Italian ladies in the restaurant had a name for me. They called me Difficile. I found out it meant tough, and I kind of liked it. They didn’t say much to me, or about me, but knowing that they thought I was tough meant something. I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop now. Captain throwing down the gauntlet was the one sure way to get me into the ring.

  I watch as he goes in first, bending between the ropes. I watch his ass, and I give him a smirk when he straightens and catches me checking him out. I duck in and stand up, bouncing all the time. My body is still loose from the workout, and we don’t have on gloves. When we spar we don’t throw punches. We disarm, restrain and contain. So as we both put our hands up and start circling around the ring, we wait and see who’s going to make the first move.

  For once, I chase all my feelings out of my head and focus on what’s in front of me. Other than the small distraction of the perfection that is his body, my mind is sharp. I mimic his speed around the mat, waiting for an opening. He’s at least twice my size, so I’m at a disadvantage when it comes to strength. But with the right moves, any man can be brought to his knees.

  This isn’t like earlier today. The ring is charged now, and I feel it coming from him. He’s going to come at me, and when he does, I need to be ready. I can tell that when he gets ahold of me, this won’t be so easily won.

  Just as the thought enters my mind, he strikes.

  His hand comes out, and I try to block him, but he takes me off guard and goes for my upper thigh. I spin and kick, barely getting free of his large hand as he takes a step back and out of my reach.

  “My mother always told me not to play with my food,” he says, getting low and moving around the ring again.

  “You plan on having a meal up here after I send you crying back to your mama?”

  He laughs big and loud, and I can’t help my matching smile.

  “Oh no, kitten. I plan on eating something up here, and the only tears being shed will be tears of joy.”

  I could try to read into what he’s saying, but his hand comes out lightning fast, and I have half a second to react. His fingers graze my waist as I slip to the side and come up behind him, knocking him off balance and skirting away.

  “What’s wrong? Got tired of losing in front of the boys?” I pout as we start to dance around the ring again, and once more he laughs. God, I hate how much I love the sound of it.

  He looks at me with intense eyes and his smile turns wicked. “I don’t care about getting my ass kicked by you in front of my guys. What I do care about is them seeing me on top of you and what might happen when I get you on your back.”

  I push away his words and try to not let them affect me. “Don’t you mean if you get me on my back?”

  He licks his lips and we dance around again. “No, kitten. I mean when.”

  The slow throb between my legs has nothing to do with what he’s saying. Nothing at all. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. God, why did I let myself be alone with him? He’s all sweaty and meaty, and Jesus, I want to climb him like a tree. I’d be his little monkey mate and do tricks on his shoulders for money. What is wrong with me?

  The distraction is enough for him to exploit an opening. This time he grabs my thighs with both hands and flips me to my back. The mat is a trampoline that’s been strung tight, so although it sounds loud and painful, falling on it doesn’t actually hurt.

  What hurts is the ache in my lady business as he moves between my legs and cages me in. How does he keep doing this, and why does it keep turning me on?

  “So, as I was saying.” He leans down, his lips a breath from mine, and I’m coiled with anticipation.

  I open my mouth and my eyelids grow heavy as I think about all the things I want to do to him right on this dirty mat. But as the fantasy starts to come to life, our cell phones ring.

  Captain pops up and I do the same, both of us grabbing our phones, which are off to the side.

  “Paige, oh my God, I’m engaged!” Mallory screams over the phone, and for a second, a tiny beat of my heart, I’m beyond jealous.

  I look over at Captain and he looks at me, and in that moment something passes between us.

  “Mal, if you ask me to wear pink, I’m going to murder you,” I say into the phone, my eyes still on Captain.

  He blinks and then looks away, getting off the mat and walking in the opposite direction. Mallory is going on about her engagement, and then, finally, the part of me that loves her, the part of me that is beyond excited for my best friend, kicks in, and I smile while I listen.

  Chapter Seven

  Paige

  * * *

  “FUCKING HELL.” I roll over and look at the clock. When I got back from working out with Captain I cruised the internet for way too long, digging for information and finding nothing. I was going to need help and there was only one person I could think of who could do it. I’m not sure if he will or if he’ll tell Captain about me asking. I’ll have to come up with a plan. I rub my eyes, still feeling drained even though I slept. That hour nap is not going to cut it. It doesn’t help that I’m feeling sexually frustrated and
my emotions are being pulled in every direction. I want to tug the covers back over my head and sleep until tomorrow. Preferably with Captain wrapped around me, so I wouldn’t be restless.

  A loud bang comes from the living room, making me spring from my bed. No one can break into this building, so whoever’s banging on my door is someone who was allowed up. The security in the building is the best, and no way did someone who isn’t supposed to be here get in. I secretly hope it’s Captain, but I push that thought away. I don’t see him doing this. Though after the last forty-eight hours, I’m starting to rethink what he’s capable of. He’s getting me off balance and I can’t read him. One second I think he’s running hot, then the next he’s cold as ice.

  Maybe Mallory is moving some of her stuff. I head for the door, ready to give the movers a mouthful. I fling it open, to find Mallory standing there with a Red Bull. She holds it out to me, and I know it’s some kind of peace offering for something she’s about to do. I didn’t think we were meeting today; I was sure Miles wasn’t going to let Mal out of his home for as long as he could keep her there. But maybe he wanted to ensure all her stuff was in his place as soon as possible, hoping that would make sure she couldn’t change her mind.

  “Don’t stab me,” she says with a bright smile. She looks like she’s glowing. She’s in yoga pants and a shirt that’s too big for her, so I assume it’s Miles’s. Her hair looks like she just got out of bed, and her face is clean of any makeup. I’ve never seen her this happy before. And no matter how much it hurts that it’s not just me and her anymore, I can’t help but be happy for her. I grab the Red Bull and pull her in for a hug. I don’t want her to worry about me, though I know she will. This is her moment and I won’t get her down by throwing my shit on her shoulders.