Theo (Obsessed Alpha 4)

“Let you go? Never.”

Chapter Two

Phoebe

He looks pissed at me, but he doesn’t say a word. “Drive,” he barks out to the driver.

My eyes rake over his body, taking in the man who sent lightning bolts of pleasure through me the second I ran into his arms. I should be afraid of him, but I’m not, and that’s scarier because I’ve lost any sense I thought I possessed.

Was this the way my mother felt when she met my father? No. She told me it was a stupid high-school night out that led to my arrival and their quick but short-lived marriage.

Fucking hell. I’m in fucking hell. The sexiest man in the world has kidnapped me to get to my father. I don’t even know who he is or what he plans to do with me.

They want my father’s secrets, and they’ll do whatever they can to get them. My father tried to explain it to me last night, but I was half-asleep when he got home. He wanted us to skip town tomorrow, but they were onto him and one step ahead.

Now, I’m going to be tortured for answers that I don’t have. I don’t even know anything about my father. He disappeared when I was three, and we didn’t hear from him until my mother’s death. She died six months ago from a long battle with addiction. It took me by surprise when he showed up to claim me a week after her death. He said my mother wrote to him, begging him to look after me. If she hadn’t left their wedding picture to me, I wouldn’t have recognized him when he showed up with his wild claim. I’d waited my entire life to see him again, and he swept right in when I truly needed him most.

He’s a mad scientist of sorts. I don’t know what he’s working on because he likes to keep things close to his chest. After we ran out of money trying to get his patent secured, I’d been looking for work, and that’s how they got me. They must have seen me coming from a job interview or a grocery-store run. I never leave the house, so that’s the only way they could have known about me. My father’s probably freaking out. He’s been fantastic since I arrived. When he’s not out working, he’s at the apartment with me and calls to check on me when he’s not there.

“I don’t know anything,” I exclaim, hoping he’ll believe me and not hurt me. Something tells me that he’s on edge, but he won’t hit me. He wants me physically. It was obvious when he had me against the wall and his giant bulge ground on my core. My pussy clenches just from the memory of being in his arms, tasting his lips, and feeling him grinding against me while I tried to dry hump him.

“You keep saying that, Phoebe, but I’m not sure why.” His accent hits me in places that are waking up. I squeeze my thighs closed. He’s got to be some sort of European, but I can’t quite make it out. His dark-colored hair, light brown eyes, and olive complexion make me think Greek or Italian. Either way, he’s so damn sexy I can’t even resist his touch.

“I don’t know his secrets that you’re after.” My voice shakes as I try to explain. He slips his hand in mine. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of my palm. The sensation is incredible. It’s hard to mask the way it feels, but I manage to hide the excitement from his intense gaze.

“The only secret I’m after is you. He kept you well hidden, didn’t he?” he asks, reaching out with his other hand to cup my chin. The firm yet tender grip drives me wild, causing me to hope he bends down for a kiss.

Fighting off the stupor he has me under, I question his motives. “Wait. Why would you want me? He doesn’t have any money.” I continue to press my case, but from the look in his eyes, I can see that I’m getting nowhere.

“I know. He owes me a fortune, and I came to collect.” His eyes rake over me, letting me know how he plans to clear the debt, and my weak body aches to surrender, willingly working off my father’s tab on my back. Wow. I can’t believe the way I’m falling.

Mesmerized by this pull he has over me, I knit my brows and mutter out, “Who are you?”

“Theo Christakos.” Greek. He lowers his hand over me, running the back of it along the column of my neck and grazing my rapidly beating pulse.

Why does his name ring a bell in my head? It’s as if I’ve heard it or seen it before. Then it strikes me where I know it from. “Wait, I saw your name on the paper at the apartment.”