LOGINCHAPTER FIVE
Alex's Pov
Damien snatched the phone from my hand, his jaw clenched tight. "Block the number."
"That's your solution? Just ignore it?"
"Until we know who it is and what they want, yes." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "It could be a bluff. Someone fishing for information."
"Or it could be someone who actually knows." My heart hammered against my ribs. "Someone who saw us together."
"We've been careful….."
"Have we?" I stood, pacing the room naked. "You had me working directly with you today. You think people didn't notice? You never pull junior executives onto projects personally."
His expression darkened. "So what do you want to do? End this before it really starts?"
"I want to know what we're dealing with." I grabbed my phone back. "I'm responding."
"Alex, don't…."
I typed quickly: "Who is this?"
The response came within seconds: "A friend. Meet me tomorrow. 2pm. The coffee shop on Fifth and Madison. Come alone."
"Absolutely not," Damien said, reading over my shoulder. "This could be dangerous."
"Or it could be someone trying to help." I turned to face him. "Either way, we need to know."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"They said alone."
"I don't care." He pulled me back onto the bed, his hands gripping my arms. "I'm not letting you walk into something that could hurt you."
"You can't protect me from everything, Damien."
"Watch me." He kissed me hard, possessive and desperate. "You're mine to protect now."
The claim should have annoyed me. Instead, it sent heat pooling low in my stomach. "Show me."
His eyes darkened. "What?"
"Show me I'm yours."
Something primal flashed across his face. He flipped me onto my stomach, his hand pressing between my shoulder blades to keep me down. "You want me to prove it?"
"Yes," I breathed.
I heard him moving, getting supplies ready. Then his slicked fingers were inside me again, rougher than before, stretching me quickly. I gasped into the sheets, my cock already hardening again despite having come minutes ago.
"You're going to feel me for days," he promised, adding another finger. "Every time you sit in a meeting, you'll remember this."
"Please," I moaned, pushing back against his hand.
He removed his fingers and I felt the head of his cock pressing against me. No condom this time, we'd both gotten tested over the weekend, shared results, made the decision together.
"Tell me you want this," he demanded.
"I want it. I want you. Please, Damien…"
He pushed inside in one hard thrust, and I cried out at the stretch, the burn, the perfection of it. He didn't give me time to adjust, just started moving with deep, punishing strokes.
"Mine," he growled, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "Say it."
"Yours," I gasped out. "I'm yours."
He reached around to stroke my cock, already leaking and desperate. The dual sensation of him inside me and his hand on me was overwhelming. Every nerve ending was on fire.
"That's right." His teeth grazed my shoulder. "And I'm yours too. No one else gets to have this. Gets to have you like this."
His pace increased, each thrust driving me into the mattress. I was making sounds I'd never made before, completely uninhibited, lost to the pleasure he was giving me.
"Touch yourself," he ordered, releasing my cock. "I want both your hands on the headboard."
I gripped the headboard as instructed, and he adjusted the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me with every thrust. My cock bobbed untouched between my legs, precum dripping onto the sheets.
"Look at you," he said, his voice rough with desire. "So desperate. So perfect."
"Please," I begged. "I need to come."
"Not yet." He slowed his pace to long, torturous strokes. "You come when I say you can."
I whimpered with frustration, my whole body trembling with need. He kept me on that edge, building me up then backing off, until I was sobbing into the sheets.
"Damien, please, I can't—"
"Yes, you can." His hand slid around to my throat, not squeezing, just holding. A claim of ownership that made my head spin. "You can take everything I give you."
He picked up the pace again, pounding into me relentlessly. My arms shook from holding myself up, every muscle taut with tension.
"Now," he finally said. "Come for me now."
I reached down and barely touched myself before I was coming, harder than I ever had before. My vision went white, pleasure so intense it almost hurt. I felt him stiffen behind me, felt the heat of him spilling inside me, marking me in the most primal way.
We collapsed together, both shaking and gasping. He stayed inside me as we came down, his arms wrapped around me protectively.
"I love you," he said quietly against my shoulder.
I froze. "What?"
"I like you." He pulled out carefully and turned me to face him. "I know it's fast. I know it's complicated. But I've never felt this way about anyone."
My throat tightened. "Damien—"
"You don't have to say it back." His thumb brushed over my cheek. "I just needed you to know."
"I—" The words stuck. Three months of anonymous conversations, one weekend together, and he was saying he has feelings for me? It was insane. Impossible.
And yet.
"I think I might have little feelings for you too," I whispered. "I think I have for a while."
He kissed me, soft and sweet, so different from the rough possession of moments ago. We stayed like that, tangled together in the aftermath, until reality intruded.
"About tomorrow," I said eventually. "I'm going to that meeting."
"We're going to that meeting," he corrected.
"If you come with me, it tips our hand."
"I'll stay in the background. Watch from a distance." His grip tightened on me. "But I'm not letting you face this alone."
I wanted to argue, to prove I could handle things myself. But the truth was, I didn't want to face it alone either.
"Fine. But you stay out of sight unless I signal you."
"Deal." He pulled me closer. "Stay tonight. I'll have you driven to work separately in the morning."
I nodded, already drifting off in his arms. Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought. Tonight, I just wanted to be his.
My phone buzzed one more time. Another message from the unknown number: "Smart choice. See you tomorrow. And Alex? Bring your boss if you want. I already know he'll be there anyway."
I showed Damien the message. His expression went ice cold.
"Whoever this is, they've been watching us closely."
"Too closely," I agreed, fear creeping up my spine.
Damien's POVThe eggs were fine.Alex didn't say that. He said they were good, but I caught a slight pause before good and filed it away."They're fine," I said."They're good.""You hesitated.""I was chewing." He pointed his fork at me. "Don't make this about you."I looked at him across the table. Hair still slightly undone from sleep. Wearing my shirt because he'd reached for it first and I hadn't said anything. The shirt was the detail that stayed with me. How natural it had been. How he hadn't noticed he'd done it.I noticed everything he did. That hadn't changed since the beginning. It had only gotten more specific."Sophie wants to meet this morning," he said. "Before ten o'clock.""I know. She messaged me at six-thirty.""What did she say?""That she'd handle it." I set down my fork. "She also said we should be prepared for Jordan to escalate."Alex nodded slowly. "He won't stop complaining.""No.""He's not doing this because he cares about policy. He's doing it because he's
Alex's POVI woke up to the sound of rain.Not the soft kind. The kind that meant the city was getting something out of its system.Damien was already awake. I could tell by the stillness. The particular quality of someone who wasn't sleeping anymore but hadn't moved yet, and I'd learned the difference."How long have you been up," I said."An hour.""Thinking about Richard.""Thinking about you."I turned my head on the pillow. He was looking at the ceiling. Profile sharp in the grey morning light. Something almost unguarded about him in the early hours, like the armor took a few minutes to fully assemble after sleep.I never told him how much I looked forward to those few minutes."Anything specific," I said."Last night in the car." He turned to look at me. "What you said.""Which part.""Present. Mine."I held his eyes. The words had come out easier than I'd expected. That was still something I was getting used to, how saying true things to him had stopped feeling dangerous somewh
Damien's POVRichard made his move at nine forty-five.I saw him cross the room with the unhurried confidence of someone who believed the ground was already prepared. He was probably right about that. He'd spent thirty years learning how to walk into conversations that were already half won.Alex saw him coming before I did."Here we go," he said quietly."Stay," I said."I wasn't planning to leave."Richard arrived with a drink and a smile that didn't reach anything above his mouth. "Damien. Wonderful evening.""Richard."His eyes moved to Alex. Brief. Assessing. "Alex. Glad you could make it.""Wouldn't miss it," Alex said. Perfectly pleasant. Perfectly unreachable.I watched Richard recalibrate slightly. He'd expected Alex to be the softer target in person the way he had been on paper. Alex was giving him nothing to push against."I've been thinking about our conversation last week," Richard said, shifting back to me."Which conversation?"A small pause. "The board meeting. The mot
Alex's POVThe gala was Saturday.Friday night I was standing in front of the mirror in our bedroom trying on the suit I'd bought three weeks ago and had avoided looking at since. Black. Well cut. The kind of thing that cost more than my first month's rent and still managed to feel like armor.Damien leaned against the doorframe behind me. I could see him in the mirror."It fits," he said."I know it fits.""Then what's the problem.""There's no problem."He pushed off the doorframe and came to stand directly behind me. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him without us touching. We both looked at the mirror."Talk," he said quietly.I exhaled. "Tomorrow every person in that room is going to look at me and try to figure out what I am to you. Whether I belong there. Whether I'm a liability or a trophy or a mistake." I paused. "I know who I am. I just hate being assessed by people who've already decided.""They haven't decided.""Richard has.""Richard is one person." His eyes
Damien's POVSophie sent the draft statement Monday morning.Short, factual, unambiguous. Damien Cross, CEO of Cross Industries, and his husband Alex Carter have been married for one year. The company continues to perform at record levels. No further comment.I read it three times."It's good," Marcus said over the phone. "Clean. Doesn't invite questions.""It invites every question.""It answers the only one that matters. You're married, it's not new, the company is fine." He paused. "Richard can't manufacture scandal around something you've already named publicly.""He'll find another angle.""He always does. But this removes his best one." Marcus was quiet for a second. "How's Alex?""Steady. Steadier than me.""He usually is."I didn't argue with that.Alex had spent Sunday evening reviewing every Cross Industries consulting contract his firm had touched, building a clean paper trail so thorough that Sophie had called him directly to say she wished she'd hired him years ago. He'd
Alex's POVThe gala was ten days away when Richard Sterling called me directly.Not Damien. Me.I was between client meetings when my phone showed an unknown number and something made me answer it. His voice was exactly what I expected. Measured, patrician, the kind of tone that assumed compliance before the sentence finished."Alex Carter. I think it's time we had a conversation.""About what?""About your position at Cross Industries. And your current situation.""I don't work at Cross Industries anymore.""No. But you're married to the man who runs it." A pause designed to feel generous. "I have nothing against you personally. I want you to understand that.""What do you want, Richard?""A quiet word. Coffee. Twenty minutes." Another pause. "I think you'll want to hear what I have to say before the gala."I said I'd think about it. Hung up. Sat in my car for a full minute.Then I called Damien.He picked up on the second ring."Richard called me," I said.Silence. Then: "When.""Ju
Alex's PovEleanor died at 3:47 AM with Damien holding her hand and me standing uselessly in the corner.I shouldn't have been there. But when I'd tried to leave, Damien had grabbed my wrist without looking away from his grandmother."Stay," was all he said.Afterward, Damien sat perfectly still, n
Alex's POVChris Morrison called on a Thursday.I hadn't thought about him in months. We'd dated for eight months two years ago, ended badly when he took a job at a competitor firm and decided his career mattered more than we did. I didn't blame him for that anymore. But I also hadn't missed him."
Damien's PovThe police station smelled like bad coffee and bleach. Alex sat beside me, his knee bouncing nervously as Detective Chen spread photos across the table."These are Eleanor Ross's medical records from her final week," she said. "Her potassium levels spiked forty-eight hours before her d
Alex's POVThe first consulting project went better than expected.Three weeks in and the client loved everything I'd presented. They extended the contract and referred me to two other companies. By the end of the month I had more work than I could handle alone.Damien watched me stress about it ov







