Melting Steel: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (5 page)

Henry

“Asher said you left early last night.” My sister, Becca stands in the doorway of my office, brown eyes narrowed on me. She flicks her dark hair over one shoulder and purses her lips.

As usual, she looks like’s she’s just come off the runway during fashion week. White blouse, navy blue, flared slacks, four-inch Gucci heels. The entire outfit, which I’m assuming she paid for with my credit card, probably cost more than Keeley makes in an entire month working at the club.

Made
– I correct myself. She’s currently unemployed, which suits me just fine. Having her in my bed twenty-four-seven sounds like fucking heaven. But from what I know about Keeley, she’d never be content just sitting around the apartment all day.

Once this whole Drew thing is handled, I’ll make sure to find out what her qualifications are, and find a place for her at Caldwell Industries. There’s no way I’m letting her go back to waitressing, because every cell in my body screams in protest at the thought of her being harassed nightly in one of those damn clubs.

“I’m busy, Becca.” I scan the file my elderly assistant, Greta, places on my desk in front of me, then scribble my signature at the bottom. “Some of us have to work.”

Not one to take a hint, Becca moves into the room and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Asher thinks you don’t like him.”

“I don’t,” I grumble, handing the document back to Greta who tries unsuccessfully to hide a smile. The asshole has always rubbed me the wrong way. That he had my little sister come and petition for him, just makes me hate the fucker more.

“Would you like me to cancel your next appointment?” Greta asks, looking between Becca and me.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Becca’s lips tighten, but she doesn’t disagree. “I’ll be quick.”

As quick as it takes me to write another check.
Which is most likely why she’s here.

Greta nods, giving me a sympathetic look, before leaving.

“Sit.” I lean back in my chair and try my best to hide my frustration. I have a shitload of paperwork to get through before I can get back to Keeley. The last thing I need is to get in another argument with my sister about her weasely little fiancé.  

She pouts, but takes a seat in one of the black leather chairs across from me.

“You could at least try. He’s really great once you get to know him. I thought we could go out for dinner sometime next week, and–”

I narrow my eyes on her, but instead of continuing her little rant, she shifts uncomfortably under my gaze and fidgets with the clutch she carries.

Shit.
She’s got that look she gets when she’s about to drop a bomb.

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe this isn’t a good time,” Becca says, a nervous lilt to her voice.

“Spit it out.” I tap my fingers on the desk and narrow my eyes, waiting.

“Asher and I were just going through the guest list for the wedding...” She rings her hands together.

The fucking wedding again.

“And?”

She takes a deep breath, then the words tumble from her lips in one big rush, “Asher’s family are close friends with the Sullivan’s, and his parents have asked that they be invited. I told Asher that it wasn’t a good idea, but he insisted. I know with your history–”

“No.” I love my sister, but there are some things I’m not willing to do…even for her. Facing Abby’s parents again is one of them.

“It’s my wedding.” Becca blinks up at me, her eyes already shimmering with unshed tears.

“And as long as I’m paying for it, they’re not coming.” It’s a low blow. The money is just as much hers as mine. But my father was old-school, and a bit of a prick. He left her share of the money in my name until her thirtieth birthday, or until she married.

It’s one of the reasons I’m so against her and Asher. I doubt either of them would be so eager to tie the knot if there weren’t a quarter of a billion dollars at stake.

Not that I totally disagree with my father’s decision. Becca’s always been impulsive. If she’d received the money four years ago when Dad died, I have no doubt she would already burned through it.

“Henry, please. Asher thought–”

“I don’t give a shit what Asher thinks.” I rub the back of my neck and ignore the pained look she gives me. “They’re not coming.”

“It was ten years ago. At some point, you need to move on. I know you don’t want to tell them the truth, but maybe–”

“They know the truth.” I laugh bitterly. “Abby is dead because of me.”

“Only
you
believe that.”

A low, dark chuckle forms in my throat. “You think I don’t know that they blame me? Shit, her father called me a murderer in front of the entire church at the funeral.”

“He was grieving.”

“Yeah.” I drag my fingers through my hair and look away. “And he was right.”

“No.” She shakes her head, brown eyes full of sympathy. “If they knew what really happened–”

“It wouldn’t make a damn difference.” I push my chair back and stand, turning my back and glance out the window at the city below.

“If anyone was to blame it was her parents. Or the asshole who–”

“Don’t.” I turn on her, jaw clenched, every muscle vibrating with tension. Becca’s the only person I ever told the truth, and sometimes I regret telling her. Better to have people think I was responsible than to look at me with the pity I see in her eyes now.

“I’m just saying, you weren’t the only one who missed the signs.”

I know she’s right, but they weren’t the ones that found her. They didn’t get the panicked call that night saying she couldn’t take it anymore. She practically told me she was going to take her life. I should have gone to her right away. Not waited, because I was fucking some girl, whose name I can’t even remember.

If I’d gone when she’d called, I could have stopped her. She’d be alive. Probably married with children by now. Not buried ten feet in the ground, rotting, her ghost haunting my dreams every night.

Sure, the Sullivan’s were shitty parents. I get that it isn’t every parents’ wildest dream for their eighteen-year-old to come home knocked up, but they practically disowned her when they found out. Told her to get an abortion or they’d dissolve her trust fund.
Fucking assholes.

They assumed the baby was mine. The fucked up thing is that other than in the second grade behind the portables at school, we never even kissed.

But Abby was terrified to tell them who the real father was. Some low-end asshole from the wrong side of the tracks. She loved the guy, gave him her virginity, and in exchange he gave her an ectopic pregnancy and an STD.

Her parents still don’t know the truth. I never told them and I never will. Not for their sake, but for Abby’s memory. What the hell do I care if they think I’m the asshole who destroyed their daughter’s life?
Because in my own way I was.

But Becca’s right. It’s been ten fucking years. If the Sullivan’s want to come to the damn wedding, who the hell am I to say no.

“I’ll tell Asher to take them off the list.” Becca mumbles behind me.

“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a slow, uneven breath. “Let them come.”

Becca’s eyes widen, then she gives me a small smile. “Thank you.”

I give a sharp nod, grateful when the phone rings. Michael Harrison’s name displays on the screen.

“I need to take this.”

Having got what she wanted, Becca turns to leave, but not without adding, “Let’s do dinner next week. Tuesday. Just you, me and Asher.”

Swallowing a cynical retort, I ignore her and answer the call.

“Hey, boss.” Michael’s gruff voice growls out on the other end. “Stewie said you’ve got some work for me.”

An ex-marine and retired cop, the man has been in charge of my security team for the past five years. He’s also my closest confidant. There’s no one I trust more, which is why I’m assigning him to finding Keeley’s brother. He knows how to dig up dirt and how to bury it, which I’m assuming is going to come in handy in this case.

“I need you to look into someone for me.” I pull out the plastic driver’s license that I took from Keeley’s wallet, flipping it over in my fingers. It was an asshole thing to do without her permission, but I need to know what I’m up against if I’m going to help her.

I scan the license and send it to him.

“How deep do you want me to look?”

“I want everything.” Because if she is who I think, then I’ve got a hell of a lot more to worry about than just her brother.

“Pretty girl.” Michael chuckles on the other end.

Pretty doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s fucking gorgeous.

“Yeah,” I mumble, an edge of possessiveness to my voice that I can’t hide. “She’s got a brother. Drew or Andrew. The kid’s in trouble. I want him found as quickly as possible.”

Michael grunts. “What kinda shit we talking about?”

“Drugs. Theft. Possibly gang related.”

There’s silence on the other end, followed by a low whistle. “All right, boss.”

“I want you to run a background check on John Sullivan as well. I have a feeling he’s connected to her and the kid in some way.” It’s a big assumption based on a twenty-year-old memory.

Michael lets out a heavy breath.

“One more thing.” I pick up the driver’s license and rub my thumb over Keeley’s picture. “She’ll be staying with me for a bit. I’m going to need some extra security around the place. I want someone watching who comes in and who goes out at all times.”

“I’ll send Ty and Lance over right away.”

“Tell them to stay covert. I don’t want to scare her.”

“Sure thing, boss.” I can hear the concern in his voice and I know he wants more information than I’ve given him.

But in all fucking honesty, I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened myself.

All I know is that the woman is mine, and I’m going do everything in my power to protect her.

Keeley

I snuggle into the soft mattress and smile when I feel Henry’s arms wrap around me. What should have been a one-night-stand has turned into a one-week luxury vacation with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sinfully Perfect starring as my own personal sex god.

When he moves closer, spooning me, I can feel his erection against my ass. His hands roam down my body, over my hips, my leg, then back up, cupping my breast, and teasing the nipple.

I let out a small moan and wiggle against him, desperate to be closer.

He murmurs in my ear, “I could get used to this.”

So could I
. That’s what I’m afraid of. Despite how amazing he’s been, I know this can’t last. I still haven’t found or heard from Drew, and despite Henry’s insistence that I let him worry about it, I can’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something more.

I roll onto my back, and Henry takes advantage of my new position by moving between my thighs. His dark hair hangs in mussed waves over his forehead and he smiles down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he says. Even though he doesn’t say it, his expression says he owns me, that I’m his.
And I know it’s true.

Soft orange and gold light drifts through the window, from the morning sun as it peeks through the open blinds, reflecting in the soft brown hue of his eyes.

I reach up and run my hand against the dark scruff on his jaw.

He captures my hand and kisses my palm. A powerful, electric sensation travels down my arm, warming my entire body. I can’t even begin to understand the chemistry between us. It’s so natural, and yet primal and possessive at the same time.

In the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t still be here. I should have left before my emotions started to get involved. But for the first time in my life, I actually feel safe – cherished.

“What are you thinking about?” His brows draw down in concern as if sensing my mood. It’s sometimes overwhelming how intuitive he is. Like he can read my thoughts.

“Nothing.” I wrap my arms around his neck, not wanting to wreck the moment. “Just how good you feel.”

I pull his lips back down to mine and he groans into my mouth. Heat ricochets through my body, and every nerve ending seems to fire at the same time. I’ve never wanted or lusted after a man like this, and it’s terrifying. Even more scary are the feelings that stir in my chest when I look at him.

Love. Lust.
The lines between the two are blurred. I just know that in a perfect world, I’d never leave his arms.

His cock nudges at my entrance, ready and waiting, and I fight the urge to pull him into me, to let him take me with nothing between us. 

Get yourself together, Keeley.
The last thing I need is to get knocked up. Hell, I can barely take care of myself. What would I do with a baby?

“Condom,” I say breathlessly against his lips.

He reaches past me, grabbing a condom from his quickly depleting stash, then rolls it over the long length of his erection.

I cling to him, my entire body clamping around him as he buries himself fully inside me.

He surrounds me. Touches me. Fills me. There isn’t a part of our bodies that don’t touch. He’s locked inside of me, tight and hot, and I know there’s nothing better in the world then this feeling.

His hands are on me, exploring my body with deft fingers, roaming down my hips, cupping my ass, pulling me tight against his chiseled body. His thumb slides over my sensitive nipple, and my back arches. He groans before his mouth finds mine as he pulls back, then slams into me again.

We lock gazes, and I hold on tight, never wanting to let go.

“God, you completely undo me,” he rasps, resting his forehead against mine as he pushes into me so deep that I all I can do is gasp.

He takes me hard and fast, and it isn’t long before we’re both crying out in pleasure, and the world around me blurs.

Pure heaven.
If I only I could live in this moment, where nothing can touch me, where everything seems right, and only he matters.

“So fucking good,” he whispers against my neck when the tremors of our orgasms finally cease. He pushes up on his forearms and glances down at me, then places a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Yeah, I could definitely wake up to this every morning.”

I smile weakly and nod.

“No more nightmares?” His thumb brushes over my cheek, and he kisses me one more time before he pulls out of me.

I shake my head, but it’s a lie. My dreams are haunted by images of Drew lying cold and lifeless in a gutter somewhere, or by Lily’s soft cries, my mom’s tormented screams.

He gives a small frown, then sits up and discards the condom. When he looks back at me, his expression is clouded.

“You know if you want to talk about anything, I’ll listen.” He traces the curve of my jaw, and waits for me to respond.

I know he wants me to talk about my past, but I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Some things are just too painful to talk about.

Instinctively, I touch the tattoo on my shoulder. I got it a few years ago, on the anniversary of Lily’s death. Drew was angry with me. He hates any reminders of her – of our mom. He has enough anger for both of us, even though I don’t think he really remembers much of what happened.

“I have to go into the office today. I thought if you’re interested you might want to meet Becca and go shopping.”

“Your sister?” I sit up, pulling the covers over my chest, and lean against the headboard.

“She wants to meet you, and it would be good for you to get out of the apartment.” He stands and stretches, displaying all his male-perfectness, then moves into the large walk-in closet. When he returns he’s wearing a pair of dark gray slacks, and a white button-down that hangs open displaying his chiseled abs. “Plus, you’re going to need a dress for the wedding, and–”

“Wedding?” He’s told me all about his younger sister and the guy she’s marrying, but I never expected to be invited to the ceremony. The thought makes my stomach twist.

“It’s next Saturday. I told you that.”

“I know. I just didn’t think…” I shake my head and chew on my bottom lip.

He sits on the edge of the bed, puts his palms beside my hips, and leans towards me. “It would mean a lot to me if you went.”

“Okay,” I say, despite the trepidation I feel.

He kisses me roughly, then pulls back. “Good. I’ll tell Becca to pick you up at noon. She’ll help you find a suitable dress.”

“I don’t have…” I grab his hand when he starts to stand and the corners of his lips drop. “I mean…I can’t afford anything fancy.”

My cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“Becca has my credit card. I want you to buy whatever you want. You don’t need to worry about money. Not anymore.”

He cups my chin when I look down at my hands. I can’t take money from him. It isn’t right.

“I’m not going to be a charity case.”

“That’s not what I was implying.” He narrows his eyes, and there’s a hint of anger there. “You’re my…” He rubs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “Think of it as a gift.”

Shit. I don’t want to fight. But it needs to be said.

“This whole week has been like a dream. But–”

“But what?”

“Once this ends, then what am I left with? No job. No apartment. I need to start thinking about my future.”

“Your future is here.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart, and I can feel the soft thumping rhythm beneath my palm.

I wish I could believe him. I want to believe him. But one day he’ll get tired of me, and then what? I’ll be out on the streets, heartbroken. Just like my mom when my father decided she was nothing but an inconvenience.

I won’t let myself be that woman.

“Keeley?” Henry is frowning at me, eyes full of concern. “I’ll never leave you with nothing.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart race. It’s not that I don’t believe him. I just can’t put my faith, my future in one person’s hands. It’s too dangerous.

“I don’t need you to take care of me.” I pull my hand back and he sighs.

“I wish I could stay and discuss this further,” he says, standing and buttoning his shirt. “But I have an eight-thirty meeting.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head. “We’ll talk more tonight.”

He grabs his wallet and keys, before he heads out of the room.

As I watch him go, I feel a lump forming in my throat. No idea where I’m supposed to go from here.