Tongue Tied

Chapter 4

He lowered his head, his breath shallow as he whispered in my ear. "What do you say we get the hell out of here?"

His words were suggestive and demanding. His cool breath on my neck sent an abundance of goosebumps over my arms and legs. His hand slid further down my lower back to squeeze my ass as he moved us into the corner of the room out of everyone's view. The hardness in his slacks had only escalated. Feeling him against me was enough to make me have to bite my lip so I didn't audibly moan. That would undoubtedly earn everyone's unwanted attention.

"Meet me at the hotel across the street in twenty minutes. I'll text you the room," Alec whispered to me, his teeth lightly grazing over my ear as he spoke.

I nodded and we immediately parted ways. I watched from my peripheral vision as he made his exit, many eyes on him, as usual. Women were easily captivated by a man like Alec. His suave, confident demeanor along with his sultry appearance earned him quite the heart-eyed following, married women included.

He stopped once to briefly say something to a man in a light gray suit near the door. I'd noticed that man had been watching us off and on while we danced earlier. They spoke for no more than a minute while I tried to busy myself with getting a drink. A punchbowl with slices of lemon and orange floating in it seemed to be the only interesting item on the buffet table since I didn't care to indulge in any more alcohol. The boiled egg soup beside it was cringe-worthy, causing me to suppress a gag when I looked at it. Who would eat that?

Of course, Mike Arthur made his way over to ladle some into a bowl. I swallowed back the disgusted words threatening to slip from my mouth at the sight.

"Oh! Brittany!" Mike's giant eyebrows rose in excitement when he noticed me standing beside him.

I inwardly groaned at the use of my full first name. "Please," I cleared my throat authoritatively. "Call me Bree."

"Have you tried the boiled egg soup my wife, Erin, made?" Mike completely ignored my words, scooping more egg halves into his bowl. Rarely did you see something that odd at an event like this. I was surprised Erin Arthur, as classy of a woman as she was - unlike her husband - had even thought that would be appropriate, much less tasty.

"No, Mike, I can't say I have." I tried to sound nice, though I think he got the memo.

A deep voice behind me interrupted our awkward conversation and Mike quickly scurried away. I turned to recognize him as the man in the gray suit whom Alec had spoken to before leaving.

"Bree, what a lovely surprise to see you here!" He over-exaggerated his fake smile, placing an arm around my shoulders.

From my spot across the room, I hadn't been able to tell who he was when he and Alec exchanged pleasantries, but now that we were face to face, I recognized him as Troy Devereaux, the president of Harper Media. Alec's boss.

"Troy."

I knew addressing him informally would grate on his nerves. The man hated when anyone referred to him as anything other than "Mr. Devereaux" or "the president."

As I expected, his jaw tightened and his words came through gritted teeth. "I noticed you and my employee were speaking earlier." He was obviously referring to Alec and me.

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"Just what were you talking about?" Troy asked, his arm over my shoulders tightening its grasp. He was being incredibly rude and I wished it would be appropriate for me to give him a bloody nose right there.

Pissed off at the way he was speaking to me, as well as the way he was talking about Alec, I forcefully removed his arm from my shoulders, stepping twice an arm's length from him. I placed my hands on my hips and shot him back the same glare he'd been giving me.

"Your employee, Troy, has a name. I suggest you address him as a person and not your client-fishing monkey," I spat. "Furthermore, if you ever try to touch me in any way besides a formal handshake again, I will not hesitate to deck you. Oh, and tell Alec he's not going to steal any of Corbin and Hilliard's clients. They're more than satisfied with me."

I only added in the last sentence to give off the idea that Alec had been trying to pull information out of me while we were dancing. No one had been within earshot to know better.

Troy was visibly stunned by my words but I didn't give him the chance to respond, turning on my heel and making a beeline for the exit. Checking my phone, I saw that Alec had texted me ten minutes ago: 349. I attempted to jog across the street to the Marriott, though my heels weren't making that a very easy task. I received a strange look from the clerk behind the front desk when I didn't approach him asking for a room. Instead, I took the elegantly decorated elevator up to the third floor and strutted down the hall until I spotted the little plaque on the wall that said 349. I knocked on the door three times.

Within seconds I was whisked into the room, Alec slamming the door and shoving me up against it. His lips were on my neck before I could utter a single word. He supported his weight against me and the door with his forearm pressed against the cold metal. I gripped his biceps a little harder than I usually would, earning a growl from him while he nipped at my skin.

"You're late." He bit my collarbone less gently than he normally did, his lips traveling down to my chest. I was fifteen minutes late.

I moaned at his touch, instantly craving more of him. "I got held up by your boss."

To my dismay, my statement halted his actions. He moved back, resting his hand against the door. He was still right in front of me but his body was no longer pressed against mine.

"What?" he frowned, slightly out of breath.

I mentally cursed at myself for telling him. I knew he would want to know what was said when all I wanted was to rip his slacks off.

"He wanted to know what you and I were talking about before you left," I said with a nonchalant wave of my hand, trying to dismiss the subject.

Alec's eyebrows furrowed and he removed his hand from the door, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. "What did you tell him?"

"To tell you that you weren't going to acquire any of my clientele," I answered, mimicking his actions, folding my arms.

Alec's lips curved into that usual cocky smirk again and a mischievous chuckle left his mouth. "Is that so?" he raised an eyebrow.

He was overly confident about his capabilities. He always had been. It was one of the things I liked best about him, though it occasionally made me want to sock him below the belt.

"Shut up, Shaffers." I grabbed his blazer and yanked him toward me again.

Within seconds his jacket and button-up were in a pile on the floor and my hands were working to unbuckle his shiny black belt while we made out, our tongues wrestling for dominance.