Yes, You Can Keep Me (An Alpha Male Romance) Read online

  Yes, You Can Keep Me

  An Alpha Male Romance

  by

  Lacy Lane

  Copyright © 2016 by Lacy Lane. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  This publication contains sexually explicit material. All characters are 18 years or older and all sex is consensual.

  Want FREE books and updates on new releases? Be sure to sign up for my mailing list! (www.eepurl.com/cn8J5H)

  Check out my Amazon author page or romance blog!

  *******

  Ella shivered, the wind biting her bare cheeks as she scraped ice off the windshield. She hated Midwest winters. The cold was bad enough, but the snow and ice just made it worse. Especially when all three were together.

  She never felt more depressed than during this season, too. It was difficult all year long, having no one to come home to after a long day of work. But at Christ time, it was worse—the fact that there was no one waiting to snuggle with when she got home, warming her from the inside out, and enjoying the simple gift of having each other. She had always longed for just that, but she'd convinced herself that it was just something she'd have to experience in her mind.

  Today had started bad, and she was sure it would just continue to get worse. Days like these always did. Her boss had called her to come in despite previously agreeing to let her take the day off, and it had snowed six inches last night, with more in the forecast. She was supposed to be sleeping in, buried under the warm covers of her bed, imagining she wasn't alone anymore. Not clearing the car before fresh snow covered it again.

  "But no, I'm freezing my butt off for the biggest jerk this side of the—"

  The wind whipped around her as she slid into the driver's seat, blowing a pile of snow off the roof and down the back of her coat. She screamed and slammed the door shut behind her, jerking the gearshift into drive. And to top it off, the car fishtailed while she was pulling onto the road, and she barely missed the neighbor's mailbox.

  "If I make it through this day, I swear I'm going to quit! It'll be my Christmas present to myself for being good all year. Surely I deserve that."

  She had no sooner pulled into the parking lot at work and began climbing out of the car when her cell phone buzzed. With her mittens on, it was difficult accept the call. She managed to drop it in the snow before succeeding.

  "Hello?" she said, out of breath.

  A gruff, male voice snapped back at her. "Ms. Stevens, are you almost here?"

  She tried not to cuss at her boss. Despite threatening to walk out on a daily basis, she needed to keep this job. At least for now. She forced a smile and managed not to raise her voice. "I'm walking in from the parking lot right now, Mr. Walker. I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier—"

  "Get us some coffee. Not that cheap stuff, either. And it had better be hot," he said, and then the line went dead.

  She screamed into her scarf and jammed the key back into the ignition. "Us" could only mean his two buddies were visiting, and they were no better than her boss. For a brief moment, she wished she were back in grade school, and could be excused from leaving the house due to the snow. Anything to not be right here, right now.

  *******

  The muscles in her back complained when Ella sat back in her chair. She couldn't help the deep groan that escaped her lips when she kicked off her required black heels, flexing her toes. No matter what season it was, she also had to wear black nylons and a black pencil-skirt. At least she could wear whatever blouse she wanted. Today, it was a fitted, navy button-up that made her gray eyes stand out. Not to mention accentuate her breasts. And her brunette hair had managed to stay neatly braided in its bun, for once.

  Yet, despite how well she presented herself, she didn't feel attractive. Then again, maybe that was because of who she worked for. If you didn't have a dick, he made you feel like the lowest possible organism on the totem pole. And he had no problem reminding you of it, either.

  She didn't know how she had survived the day. Running for coffee three times, dictating letters and case notes, filing all of last month's paperwork again, all while answering the phone before the second ring...with a smile.

  Being Mr. Walker's legal assistant had very few rewards. The paycheck was the only thing that kept her waking up at six in the morning, driving half an hour one way, working nine-plus hours a day, driving another thirty minutes, and then crawling into bed at night—sometimes without dinner, thanks to sheer exhaustion. A vacation would help, but that would mean Mr. Walker would have to do some of his own work for more than one day, and he wouldn't hear of it.

  She still couldn't believe he had told her she could have today off. Then again, he had retracted his agreement by calling her just after dawn and telling her she needed to come into the office, after all. Some political big-wig in the city had been caught with his pants down on the wrong side of the tracks, and the story had been plastered on the front page of this morning's paper. The only reason Mr. Walker hadn't called her earlier, he'd said, was because he'd been consoling his client. She should consider herself lucky.

  Every now and then, two of his lawyer friends dropped by, like today. They holed up in his office, their raucous laughter sporadically exploding like gunfire, disrupting the blessed silence and any attempt to concentrate on her work. She knew full well that nothing serious—at least legal-wise—was accomplished behind that closed door during their visits.

  It didn't help that she'd found them corralled around her desk when she'd finally walked in with their first round of coffees. As usual, Mr. Walker bragged to his friends that no one could please him like she did. They'd snickered, given her a once-over with a wink, and grabbed a cup before parading back to the "man cave."

  The whole thing disgusted her. She still expected her boss to come to her some day and proposition her...and then blackmail her to keep her job even if she rejected him.

  A soft snort slipped out at that thought. Her mind was always coming up with these crazy and undesirable situations with the worst outcome. Or placing her in blissfully erotic ones where some handsome man rescued her from this nightmare and pleasured her endlessly...

  Ella shook her head. The chance of either of those situations were less than slim, and with her luck, she'd find herself in the nightmare instead of the dream.

  Loud footsteps made her sit up and pretend to be working on the computer. Mr. Walker led the group of three men. None of them acknowledged her as they laughed over a dirty joke. The grating sound stopped abruptly as the front door closed.

  She held her breath for a full minute, and then relaxed into her chair. After another five minutes, she pulled on her knee-high boots and buttoned her wool coat, stuffing the ends of her scarf inside the collar.

  At least she wasn't required to be back here until Tuesday due to Christmas Day being on Monday. Three whole days to just stay under the covers at home without a care in the world. To pretend her life was different, and she wasn't so lonely.

  The wind had picked up, and the snow seemed to be falling harder as she hurried outside. More than an inch of the white stuff coated her car. By the time she had dug through to the handle and pried the door open, her hands were frozen, and the sleeves of her coat were soaked.

  The engine wouldn’t start the first two times she tried. With a groan, she sl
ammed her hand against the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn, and screamed. When the engine turned over on the next try, cold air shot out of the air vents, sending goosebumps prickling up her arms, and shivers down her back. She wanted to cry, but she was afraid her tears would freeze right on her cheeks.

  She let the windshield defrost and the thermostat warm up before she maneuvered the car out of the snow-packed lot. Remembering her deceased father's advice, she tapped her brakes as she came to the stop sign before turning out onto the highway. The car skidded for a moment—the anti-lock brakes taking hold—before it came to a stop.

  With the blowing snow, she wouldn't be able to see far, but there shouldn't be too much traffic. Everyone else was apparently more sane than she was, and were probably tucked away safely in their cozy little houses with their families or significant others. It would take twice as long to get home, if not more. And the house that waited for her would be just as cold and dark as the night around her. She took a deep breath and started out again, at least looking forward to a little peace and quiet.

  *******

  The dashboard clock showed she'd been on the road for fifteen minutes. It was half the time it usually took her to get home, but passing by the old Anderson silo showed that she had only driven three miles. The windshield was icing up on the inside as well as the outside faster than the defroster and wipers could clear it. She cursed, gripping the wheel with one hand while she rubbed her mitten across the glass.

  When the car swerved, she tried to correct it, but then the wheels spun out, sending the car sliding sideways off the road. The car slammed to a stop, and her head hit the steering wheel, cutting off her scream. Sharp pain pressed behind her eyes, there was a metallic taste in her mouth, and she was suddenly freezing cold. Her fingers automatically reached for the buttons on the door, but nothing happened.

  "Got to close the window..."

  Her hand fell back to her lap, and then she blacked out.

  *******

  A dull throbbing in her head and the smell of clean sheets with a cedar undertone told her that she probably wasn't dead. There was a faint memory of men ogling her at work. Of traipsing through snow to get overpriced coffee. Of taking notes while a heavy man with a bulbous nose swore to force the city's journalism industry out of business with lawsuits. Of driving home from work. And crashing.

  Or maybe she had dreamt all of that and had never gotten up this morning. Maybe Mr. Walker hadn't called her. Maybe she had just imagined, once again, that the worst had—

  There was a loud exhale, then a deep, masculine voice said, "Good, you're awake."

  Ella sucked in her breath and tried to open her eyes. Pain shot down the back of her head and she choked back a scream.

  "Breathe!" The command came in that same deep timber.

  Large, warm hands rolled her onto her side and held her still, rubbing her back. Her bare back.

  She gulped down air, unable to see anything as she strained to return to full consciousness. Who was this man? Where was she? She tried to sit up, finding herself weighted down by blankets. She kicked at the thick layers while holding them to her upper body at the same time, remembering her nakedness.

  "Dammit, woman, relax!" The hands pushed her back, pulling the covers up to her chin again. When she stopped fighting, the hands released her.

  Through the pounding of blood in her ears, she could hear his heavy breathing.

  "W-where am I?" She managed to ask the most important question.

  "I found you in my field. Well, your car that is. You were in your car. Now, just stay put, okay?"

  She nodded, and the weight on the bed shifted.

  "Your head is a little banged up," he continued, his voice growing more distant. There was the sound of a faucet running, cupboard doors opening and closing. "Your car is totaled. So is the deer."

  "Deer?" She tried to sit up again and felt the blankets fall away. There was a loud gasp followed by a thump and a soft curse. She gathered the blankets to her and laid back down.

  "Yes, the four-legged animals that run wild out here in the country. He probably stopped your car from flipping over." His voice was closer once more. He moaned, as if in pain, and then the bed shifted as he sat down again. A small light clicked on beside the bed, but his face remained above its reach. "Lie still, I'm just going to change your bandage."

  She wished she could see him. But then again, she figured he was probably just some creepy farmer who sounded all sexy when he was the farthest thing from it. Still... Her hand instinctively reached out as he leaned toward her. "Are you okay?” she asked him. “You sounded like you were in pain."

  "I'm fine." But he winced when her fingertips grazed over a slight bump on the top of his head.

  "Sorry." She bit her lower lip and tucked her hand under the covers again, trying to breathe slower.

  His hand smelled of soap when he reached toward her head, and his touch made her skin tingle. As soon as the bandage was gone, so was his hand. Part of her longed for it to return. He granted her wish, but she cringed as he pressed a warm cloth to her forehead.

  "It’s nothing that needs stiches. But you might have a small scar."

  Water trickled down to her ear, wetting her hair. He was gentle, dabbing at her wound and then at her right eye. The whole while, he never bent low enough for her to catch a glimpse of anything besides his hands. And those had a leathered texture, evidence of someone who worked outdoors.

  "I was afraid to put an icepack on that shiner. You were so cold when I found you, I didn't want to make it worse. But I did have to remove your clothes. Snow had blown in through the broken windshield and put a nice layer on you by the time I found you. Good thing I was coming home when I did."

  "Thanks." She swallowed and nodded, her cheeks burning from the knowledge that he had undressed her. She wasn't sure if she was completely embarrassed. Something deep inside sparked to life, and she wondered if he had liked what he'd seen, or if he hadn't paid any attention at all.

  You know that with your luck, he’s an ugly, lonely man, she thought to herself. Any naked lady would turn him on. The sooner you can get out of here...

  "The good news is that you've stopped bleeding." He dabbed a fingertip of some ointment onto the wound, covered it with a clean bandage, and then turned away from her. "Are you hungry?"

  "Not really," she said. A loud growl rose from her stomach and betrayed her.

  He chuckled and leaned toward her as he stood up. "Liar."

  When she saw his face as it finally came into range of the room’s small light, she gulped down air, feeling a different, silent hunger stirring. His eyes were dark and shining with his laughter. His hard jawline was sprinkled with just the right amount of stubble. His shoulders were wide, and as he straightened, she realized he would top her five-foot-six stature by quite a bit. What enticed her the most, though, was the thick blond hair softening the rugged contours of his face. Her fingers twitched under the blanket, wanting to touch him. To pull him to her.

  Okay, so he's handsome. That doesn't mean he's not a pervert.

  "I made some soup," he said, and then he was gone.

  She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. When she felt her heartbeat slow down, she rolled onto her side in the direction of his footsteps. A light snapped on, and she caught the first glimpses of her surroundings. Through the doorway, her rescuer stood in a kitchen, ladling soup into a bowl. A larger room lay beyond him, hidden mostly in shadows, but the visible walls and ceiling indicated that they were in a log cabin.

  Her eyes returned to the handsome stranger, watching the muscles of his back and arms as they moved under his flannel shirt. The tightness of his jeans emphasized his ass when he dropped a towel and bent down to pick it up. She took a steadying breath and looked away.

  The rest of the bedroom was sparse besides the bed, a nightstand with the sole lamp, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. She could hear the wind howling outside the window and shivered, glad
to be inside.

  "Can you sit up?"

  She gasped, jerking her head around at the sound of his voice. He stood over her, the light from the kitchen making his hair glow. The corner of his mouth twitched as he waited for her response. She nodded and pulled the blankets tighter around her, scooting up so her back was resting against the pillows and headboard.

  "Don't want to spill the soup." He sat down beside her, his weight cinching the blankets a tad lower. His eyes darted down and then up to meet hers, a smile tugging at his lips again.

  She reached for the spoon and bowl before realizing that she needed at least one hand to keep herself covered.

  "Allow me." The words were said casually, but they sounded sexy to her. Surely it was her imagination at work again. He was only trying to help.

  She blinked to clear her head. He leaned toward her and held the bowl under her chin, dipped the spoon into the bowl, and then brought it to her lips. Her eyes stayed on him as he slipped the spoon inside her mouth, tipped it back to empty the contents, and then returned it to the bowl. She found the simple gesture quite arousing, and the heat of the chicken soup quickly traveled all the way down to stoke the fire between her legs as she swallowed.

  They were both silent as he repeated the procedure, his gaze never wandering from hers. When the spoon scraped the bottom of the empty bowl, he set it on the nightstand.

  "Do you feel better?" His voice was definitely husky now, and his eyes looked dreamy and distant. Maybe her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

  She licked her lips and nodded. Her heartbeat picked up, and her grip on the blankets tightened as she stared at this strange, gorgeous man sitting only inches away from her.

  For just a moment, she glanced at his mouth. Noticing again how a five-o'clock-shadow highlighted his chin and jaw. How full his lips were. How they parted, allowing his sweet breath to brush her face. His long, thick fingers gently brushed over her bandage, grazing her temple and then her cheek as he lowered his hand.