Bound to You: Volume 3 Read online

  “You saw my picture in the paper?” How the hell did it get in the paper?

  He pulls a newspaper clipping from the pocket of his jeans and hands it to me. It’s worn, like it’s gone through a couple of washes. I slowly unfold it, fearful as to what it might say. My breath catches at the sight of the photo within the article. It’s a photo of Nicholas and me walking into the Lit For Kids event. The paparazzi must’ve snagged a photo before we got inside. I completely forgot about the photographers waiting at the entrance of the event. I know they didn’t take any of us when we left because we slipped out the back, but there’s definitely at least this one of us walking in. I wonder if Nicholas has seen this?

  “I got lucky and I landed a role in a miniseries that’s filming here in New York. I took a chance because I wanted to see you,” Miles says.

  I smile at the sight of my arm looped through the crook of Nicholas’s arm. He looks so good. I fight the itch to want to take the news clipping inside with me. I bet Carol would nag me to death about it. God, I have to tell her about what happened tonight. She won’t be surprised. In fact, I think she’ll enjoy rubbing it in my face.

  “Are you guys together?” Miles’s voice breaks through my thoughts. His face is shrouded in disappointment.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You just seem pretty close in that photo. Are you seeing him?” He shifts uncomfortably, waiting for my reply. No, but right now I wish I were. I wish I could rub Nicholas in his face and show Miles exactly what he missed out on by cheating on me. You’re such an asshole.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I say. My heart skips as a familiar scowl appears down the hallway of my apartment building. Nicholas StoneHaven. It’s as if the gods have heard my wish. His suit is still lightly dripping from the rain as he steps out of the shadows. His blue eyes stare back, assessing Miles, and then me. I thought he left. Nicholas slowly walks toward me, only pulling his gaze away from me long enough to give Miles a stony glare. He probably heard our conversation. His frown reaches all the way to his eyes.

  “Nick?”

  Miles turns and his eyes widen at the sight of Nicholas. I can only imagine what’s going through his mind.

  He looks back at me and reaches out for my hand. “Can we go inside and talk?”

  I hesitate, wondering if Nicholas is going to start a fight with him. In all the years I dated my ex, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fight anyone, but I have seen Nicholas in action. I know he could take Miles out any day of the week. Nicholas is a few good inches taller than him, and there’s muscle behind those expensive suits. Lots of it. Not to mention the look on his face could easily be described as murderous.

  “I think you should go, Miles.” My nerves jump as Nicholas walks past him. To my surprise, he treats him like he's invisible. A startled expression passes over Miles’s face, but it quickly turns to annoyance. He eyes the back of Nicholas’s frame, as if trying to size him up. That would be a very stupid move. Miles looks to me as Nicholas walks up and seizes my elbow. He wastes no time tugging me backwards toward the door. Confusion fills me as Nicholas flashes me an angry look before his lips crash against mine. The action startles me and yet excites me beyond belief.

  The warmth of his lips has me melting in his arms. I suck in a moan as he glides his hand down my ass and pulls me to him so I'm basically straddling his leg. A mixture of annoyance and satisfaction rushes through me. I hate but love that he's so animalistic sometimes. It takes me a few moments to break the kiss, but I do after remembering that Miles is still standing in the hallway only a few feet away.

  "I thought you left?" I ask, breathless. Nicholas leans in, kissing the top of my head briefly. It feels like the tip of a feather gliding over my skin as it sends shivers down my body. My nipples perk up in desire. Damn you, body.

  "I did, but I couldn't stop thinking about being inside of you." My breath catches at the bluntness of his words. Did Miles hear that? From the smug look on Nicholas's face, I know he purposely said it loud enough for him to hear. Sneaky bastard. I want to kiss the smirk right off of his face. He tugs a curl and leans in to kiss me again, but the sound of Miles’s voice stops him.

  "Becca, can I talk to you…alone?" I turn to find Miles standing only a few feet away. He shoots Nicholas a wary look as he steps forward and tries to grab my hand. The desperation in his voice stings my heart. A piece of me feels guilty at the thought that I put it there, but I quickly squash the feelings. I have no reason to feel guilty. Before I have a chance to respond, Nicholas steps in front of me and the words that come spiraling out of his mouth sound like a growl more than anything.

  "She's done talking to you,” he says. Nicholas turns back to me and pulls my key from my hand. He unlocks the door in one swift motion and pushes me inside. Miles watches in shock as Nicholas slams the door in his face.

  I stand off-kilter by the scene in front of me, my heart still lightly beating. Did that really just happen? I feel Nicholas’s hands grabbing me and pushing me up against the door. He pulls me into another kiss, but this time there’s an urgency behind it. I don’t fight him. I’m too tired, too weak, and too lost in the sensation to ask him to stop. He traces his hand over my neck and then down the side of my shoulder.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, my legs feel like they’re about to fall off. The expression 'weak at the knees' has a whole new meaning for me. Nicholas reluctantly lets me go and walks over to the panoramic windows just beyond the living room of the apartment. The night sky looks ominous with storm clouds looming low over the city landscape and the streets below are illuminated in bright hues of red and white. It’s 12 AM but the city is just waking from its daylong sleep. The one great similarity between Los Angeles and New York is they’re both always vibrant with people flowing in and out of the streets.

  Nicholas wanders across the room, surveying the furnishings around him. He stops to stare at a framed photo of my mother, my father, and me. The apartment looks small around him. I can only imagine how puny it must be to him compared to his giant mansion of a place. Carol would be thrilled to know that he’s here. Knowing her, she would be sending me mental winks from her bedroom. Speaking of, where the hell is she? I thought she would be home by now. That woman is never home anymore. I’m starting to think she has a boyfriend on the side that she’s not telling me about. Carol is going to be shocked when I tell her about Riptide and about Miles coming over tonight. Although, it might be better if I don’t bring up the Miles situation just yet, Carol might go looking for him to kick his ass.

  I set my purse down and fling off my heels, watching Nicholas walk as he quietly continues to stare out into the darkness of the city. His perfectly sculpted shoulders sag slightly as if he’s upset. A strong need to comfort him pulls me toward him. I’m only a few feet away when he whips back toward me. There’s heat behind those stark blue irises. A primal heat that tells me his mind is being occupied by something deliciously dark.

  “Rebecca, I need you. I need you underneath me. I need to be inside of you. Right now, it’s the only thing that makes sense to me in this world.” His words both flatter me and concern me. I don't want to be someone's escape, but even though my feet are firmly planted in reality, I need and want the same from him.

  “I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

  “Are you asking for exclusivity? That doesn’t exactly work when you’re engaged to another woman,” I retort.

  Nicholas pivots on his heel and heads back toward me. There’s a look of exasperation written all over his face. The calm and collected Nicholas I’m used to is now replaced with an anxious demeanor. He rakes one hand through his messy wet mane and then looks up at me.

  “I don’t know what I’m asking. You don’t even know how much I wanted to beat the shit out of that fucker,” he growls. I don’t doubt it and I would be lying if I said it didn't turn me on. It totally does. "Why are you wasting your breath on him?" Nicholas asks in a serious tone. I’m
taken aback by the anger seething from his words. There’s a slight accusation in them. By "him”, I can only assume he means Miles. But I never told him Miles was my fiancé.

  “How do you know who he is?”

  Nicholas smirks, giving me a look of mild irritation. “It isn’t that hard to figure out that you didn’t want him near you.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  Nicholas shrugs his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. “I found out about him when I had you investigated.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked by his revelation. “You had me investigated?”

  “I don’t let just anyone work with me. I wanted to know more about you.”

  “You couldn’t just ask? I did a regular background check when I submitted my paperwork to HR. You had no right to snoop into my private life,” I say, irritated.

  Nicholas steps closer and his eyes wash over me with interest. “No, I couldn’t just ask because to be frank, at the time, I was going to use any information I could to get you to leave.”

  Ouch. The words hit me with a painful intensity that sends my heart racing through my chest. Get me to leave? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like Nicholas made it a secret about him wanting me to go. Sending me off on crazy errands was a pretty good indication, and yet over the past few weeks his actions and words have said otherwise. I’m not so sure he wants me gone anymore, though I’m not sure his reasons for wanting me to stay are any better.

  “So is there anything you don't know?” I reply with a mouthful of sarcasm.

  "Rebecca, I'm telling you this because I want to be honest with you."

  "Thank you for your honesty," I say, circling around to the front of the door. "But I need you to leave." I hear a bell jingling and spot Sprinkles, the cat we’ve been babysitting, heading over toward me. He stops just short of me to smell Nicholas’s pant leg. Shit, he’s going to pee on him. Part of me wants to watch this train wreck, but before I have a chance to shoo Sprinkles away, he starts to purr and rub himself on Nicholas. Weird.

  Nicholas reaches down and picks him up. Sprinkles nuzzles his head against Nicholas’s palm. That damn cat peed on my clothes and now the little traitorous bastard is cuddling him?

  “That’s so weird.”

  “What?”

  “He never likes anyone,” I admit. “He didn’t even like me when I first got here, but he seems to love you.”

  “That’s because I know how to handle a pussy,” he says, with a twitch of his lips. Really? Ugh, arrogant ass.

  "Rebecca, I came here to talk to you,” he says, placing Sprinkles back on the floor. I sigh at the stubborn look that crosses Nicholas’s face. He's not leaving unless I throw him out.

  "I don't want to talk."

  "We don’t have to talk,” he says with a smile.

  "Please. Leave," I say, pointing to the door.

  "I’m afraid I can’t do that," he says, loosening his tie. My stomach tightens at the sight of his fingers pulling at the topknot. He steps closer, grabbing my waist. “You want to know what I found out? I found out you were engaged to an actor named Miles Storm. I found out he cheated on you. But more importantly, I found out that he never deserved you, and if I had my way, I would have no problem making him disappear off the face of this planet.”

  Nicholas's words strike a chord inside of me. Without any warning, I feel my eyes burn with tears. It's really hard to be angry with him when he says things like this. It just makes this whole situation so much more confusing. He reaches out and cups my face with his hand. The feeling of it spreads a warm tingling all over me. I shouldn't want or need him, but I do. He wipes a tear with his thumb and then leans in. I close my eyes anticipating a kiss but he doesn't kiss me – at least not yet. He trails soft kisses from my temple to my chin, and then he does the same on the other side of my face. When he's done, he places one more at the corner of my mouth, and I immediately smile at the sensation.

  "There's that smile," he murmurs.

  "What smile?"

  "The one that makes me feel like I'm free-falling."

  "That sounds horrible."

  "It's not. It's a rush.”

  My eyes flicker open to a familiar darkened bedroom. After a few seconds of repeatedly blinking like an idiot, my blurry vision eventually subsides and I realize exactly where I am. Warm, soft curves are snuggled in beside me as Rebecca lays curled up against my chest. We're lying on her bed, still fully clothed. It's hard to hide my disappointment at the realization. I wish we were naked and underneath the covers. Rebecca must've been exhausted because she's still wearing her dress from the club, minus the heels. I push the red strands of hair from her face and she nestles her cheek against my chest. My cock instantly grows hard from the feeling. God, she feels so good against me. I can't think straight when I'm hard for her. I wish I could just stay here and hold her, but I know I need to get back to my apartment and deal with Alison. She's probably livid, and she's going to be even more so when I talk to her about our engagement.

  I slide out from beneath Rebecca's hold and gently shift her so she's lying against a soft while pillow. Despite the ache in my knuckles, I don't fight the temptation to run them across her cheek. Last night would've been a record for me. First I punch my best friend for touching her and then I almost punch that other motherfucker in the face. Miles Storm. I can't believe he showed up here. I have to make a mental note to send Striker here to make sure he doesn't come back. Ever. And if he does, I'll break his face with my own goddamn hands. My chest aches at the memory of Rebecca's face when he was talking to her. It was slowly killing me to watch the pain fill her eyes, and to hear the hitch in her voice when he touched her. I know Rebecca can handle her own, but I was so close to just putting that fucker through the ground.

  Rebecca was pissed about me looking into her background, and I can't say I blame her, but I don't regret it. I needed to know more about her past. I just hope she'll forgive me for it. After arguing with her for more than half an hour, she finally conceded to letting me stay to talk, except she didn't want to talk about us. Every time I brought the subject up, she avoided it completely. I'm starting to think she's afraid of there being an us.

  I check Rebecca's room for my cellphone and find it sitting on top of the nightstand. To my dismay, there are another ten missed calls from Alison and two from my father. Shit. The numbers on the dashboard of my phone let me know that it’s well passed 9:00 AM. Great. I’ve managed to sleep most of the morning away. Thankfully, as I slip out of Rebecca and Carol’s apartment, it isn’t raining anymore. It's time to set things straight and figure out what the fuck I'm going to do about all of this. My world right now is one giant clusterfuck, but I know one thing for certain; I’m going to make Rebecca mine. Forever.

  Dread fills me as I pull up to my apartment and spot Alison’s white convertible Porsche parked in front of my apartment. Even worse is the sight of boxes piled into the backseat of her car and the movers unloading furniture into my place from the moving truck parked illegally on the side of the street. No, she didn’t. What the fuck is going on here? I nearly startle one of the dipshits unloading a dresser from the truck as I tear across the icy street. The short man’s eyes widen as I side step in front of him, blocking him from going inside. He looks two times older than me, but I have no problem throwing his ass out of my way.

  “Hey, what the hell is all of this?” His partner, a fit balding man, looks me over and continues to unload the truck. “This is private property. What the fuck are you doing?” I ask.

  At the sound of my voice, Alison comes hurrying out of the building in a long pink coat. She’s dressed down in sweats and her hair is tied up in a bun – glaring evidence that she’s been moving her shit into my apartment. What the fuck is she up to?

  “Oh good, you’re here.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  The look on her face would have most men crawling under a rock. She spreads her hands across her hips
, a mixture of impatience and irritation radiates off of her. She doesn’t like my question, but I don’t give a shit. It's hard to believe that the movers would just show up and start moving her things in.

  “I tried calling you several times, baby,” she says in a sardonic tone. “When you didn’t answer, I thought I might as well go ahead and go forward with the move-in plans.” She blows a strand of blonde from her face and bats her long eyelashes at me. I know behind that innocent expression is a stone cold businesswoman. Alison is cut-throat when she wants to be.

  “What move-in plans? We didn’t even talk about this.”

  She pulls me to the side. “Keep your voice down, Nicholas, people are watching.” Alison nervously brushes away a loose strand from her face as she quickly checks to if there are still people walking nearby.

  “Does it really look like I give a shit?” I growl. We could be in the middle of Times Square for all I care.

  “Well you should. You’ve already been in the papers enough.” Bullshit. I haven’t gotten any bad press since Rebecca got hired. In fact, I think the company has had a lot of positive exposure since the Lit For Kids event. I know Rebecca has been working her ass off trying to answer the flood of emails in my inbox since.

  “Alison, you’re not moving in.” I head toward the move-in truck when I hear her shrill voice.

  “I am moving in because I’m not letting my fiancé run around New York City with his assistant. You’ve been fucking her behind my back, and Friday night was proof of that. You can go ahead and treat me like I’m an idiot, but I’m not blind.”

  Her words hit home for me. I'm tired of lying to everyone, including myself. I rather Alison know the truth about how I feel. I want Rebecca to know the truth first, but I think this charade needs to end.