Chapter 110: A woman's bedroom

Alicia.

I suck in his scent, my hands holding onto him tight. His dick pierces my belly button, and it seems like he's still hard, or is he hard for me?

Pretentiously, I rub my belly over his hard cock while I wail like a scared cat.

Hmm, it's so good.

My nipples are already poking out through the flimsy nightwear I'm putting on, and to think it's the Brotherhood's color-black.

Just before I can fully enjoy this proximity, Michael gently pulls me away from his body, his hands resting on my shoulders.

There's concern in his eyes, but a hard grit to his jaw. Certainly, he's pissed about the breach in the tunnel.

"Alicia, look at me," he coaxes my gaze up while I bawl hysterically, trying to bury myself in his arms.

"He's...going to...kill me." I pant hard, my face streaked with tears.

"Hey...no one's gonna kill you, Ally. Look at me."

He raises my chin up and wipes away my tears with his callused thumbs.

"That was just a minor breach. The enemy isn't here. He can never be." His voice is gruff, matching the hard look in his eyes.

I nod briskly, pretending like tremors are wracking through me.

Michael pulls me by his side, eyes stretching over to Bones, who is silently watching us.

"The panels need to be properly checked. I don't think it's an intruder." He says to Bones while I squirm on his side.

"Noted, Shark. I've called the engineer. He'll be here in five minutes." Bones reveals while Michael nods.

To me, he says, "Let me walk you back to your room."

I nod, forcing a smile, and begin to limp using Michael as my support, as well as the cane.

"There you are," He says, gravelly, leading me into the guestroom and onto the bed.

Once I settle, I look up at him.

He has sweat clinging deliciously to his muscled torso and broad chest.

Fuck, this man is hands-down sexy.

My mouth dries up watching his raw beauty. If only I could just use my tongue and wipe away the sweat.

"Thank you, Shark." I rasp, sniffling.

"You've got nothing to thank me for." He intones, shrugging. Even that little action is hot.

I'd better tighten my thighs if I don't want to squirt right in front of him, I tell myself.

"I actually do. Thanks for letting me stay here and for always helping. I don't think I can survive alone after that attack..."

"Alicia." Michael cuts in.

I blink up at him, gulping down the lump in my throat.

"There's someone I want you to meet this afternoon."

Okay, I didn't see that coming.

"Huh?" I hum, looking flustered and worried.

He pulls me closer and grabs my hand in both of his. "We can defeat this shadow enemy with your help, Alicia. Can you work together with me?"

I blink rapidly, my body trembling. "I...I don't think...I can..."

"Just try it for me, okay? Alicia?"

Hearing those words stuns me. He doesn't need to ask anything of me because I'm willing to do his bidding like his sub.

I manage a nod.

Michael beams and rises. I feel cold the moment he puts a gap between us, heading to the door.

"So, take a bath and dress up. I'll come and pick you up in twenty minutes."

I fall on the bed, smiling from ear to ear, the second he leaves.

Michael freaking Stone is requesting that I do something for him?

It's not a command but a request and this is the first time he's ever done it.

Victory feels like the fluid flowing through my veins now.

I rise from the bed and remove the dress, dropping it on the floor along with my panties.

However, just before I enter the bathroom, my gaze lands back on the picture of him and Liam.

Chills skitter down my spine as I remember the man who came into my office at the headquarters, dressed in biker gear with a helmet.

Why do I feel like that man is similar to Liam?

No! Michael's son can be anything but a traitor to his father. I know they both don't get along quite well, but not to the extent of spiting on his own father.

I erase the thoughts and go in for a soaked bath.

\--

Michael gave me twenty minutes to prepare for whatever meeting he wants us to have with a third party, but I used twenty minutes to soak myself in the tub.

That was for a reason- I want him to walk in on me naked.

I take my time rubbing cream on my body, and afterward, I run a comb through my hair slowly, even while naked.

He should be here any moment, and I prepared for him to see what he's been missing.

I'd just finished packing my hair when a knock came on the door.

"The door is open!" I yell, acting as if I'm picking up the hairs that fell on the floor when he comes in.

"Fuck!" The curse rings out, and I turn, my eyes going owl-wide.

"Bones!? I thought it was Moira!?" I scream, covering my breasts and groin with my hands.

"Apologies, Miss." He prattles and slams the door shut without thinking twice.

My heart drops into my belly in embarrassment.

I was prepared to see Michael and not his assistant!

Angered, I grit out. "You don't just barge into a woman's bedroom like that, Bones!"

"It'll never happen again!" His voice echoes from the other side. "Shark is waiting for you, Ms. Alicia." He adds.

"I'll be there in a few minutes!" I force the response out with effort, rolling my eyes.

Why didn't Michael come?

Did he know what I planned?

I dress with anger laced into my spine, and before long, I limp outside where Michael's waiting with his convoy.

"Ready?" He asks. I nod.

Surprisingly, we enter different cars to my annoyance, and move to God knows where.

\--

I was expecting it'd be an hour's drive or something, but it only takes a few minutes, and we arrive at a cafe.

The place is empty, save for the man who is seated in the middle of the cafe.

He's with his computer, typing away on it. He rises up when he notices us.

"Pahkan." He greets, bowing to Michael.

It only dawns on me then he's one of Michael's gurus.

"Trevor, I'd need you to sketch this person she's going to describe to you. I bet that can be a good start." Michael orders, taking a seat.

He's not kind enough to hold my seat out for me, I'm not surprised, actually, but I won't complain as long as I'm spending this moment with him.

Michael picks boys from the street and trains them in tech to work for him. At this point, it's safe to say he owns the media, given how he easily manipulates things to work for him.

The man, Trevor, starts to question me, and I describe exactly what I remember about the guy in question.

His dress code.

Height.

Skin tone.

Stature.

Trevor sketches him, and as soon as he finishes, he turns the sketchbook to us.

I gasp when I look at it, but it's not about the sketching that shocks me more; it's Michael's statement.

"Why does he have the same build as my son, Liam?"

And silence follows, same as the tension.

Could that have been Michael's son? I ponder deeply, trading glances between the sketch and Michael.

Tbc