His words light a fire under my skin. I've never had anyone stare at me with such hunger, or speak to me with such passion. I know I should tell him to leave. I should throw on my clothes and grab my keys and drive away from this place without looking back. But my body is bent on betraying me. In this moment, I don't care about what's smart or right or logical. I don't care about what he's done to the Center. I know only that my body comes alive at his touch, that I'm drowning in such desire that I'm not even sure which way is up anymore.
I give Calder a single nod.
“You're sure?” he rasps.
I nod again, and this time he doesn't hesitate. He grabs me and yanks me against him, his mouth attacking mine. Heat surges between us as he pushes me down on the seat. I reach again for his shirt, and he helps me tug it up over his shoulders, exposing his perfectly muscled chest. My hands flutter to his stomach then slide up his torso, gliding over the smooth ridges of his body. I could spend an hour inspecting every hard plane of his flesh, but Calder isn't that patient. He pushes me back down, pinning me beneath his weight, and his lips crush against mine once more. I moan and raise my tongue to meet his.
My hands move to the waistband of his pants, reaching desperately for his fly. His own hand slips between us to help me, unfastening the button as I tug at the zipper. He slides his pants and boxer-briefs down in one motion, not bothering to push them past his knees. Neither of us care at this point. My body aches with need for him, and I can tell he feels it too. The long, hard length of him is wedged between us, the smooth skin hot against my lower abdomen.
He reaches down and grasps for his pocket. After a couple seconds of searching, he produces a condom.
“Always prepared, huh?” I ask breathlessly.
He smiles. “After everything that’s happened between us, it seemed like a good idea to have one close.”
He tears the wrapper open with his teeth and slips the condom quickly over his impressive length. I hardly have any time to admire him before he grabs my legs and pulls them up, hooking my ankles over his shoulders. My bare toes brush against the ceiling of the car. He lowers himself slowly, trapping my thighs between our bodies and positioning his cock between my legs.
He only allows me the briefest of moments to relish the feeling of him against my opening. I take a ragged breath, and he plunges inside of me, ramming himself to the hilt in a single thrust. I cry out in pleasure and dig my nails into his back.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my neck. “Fuck, you feel good.”
He turns his face and claims my mouth, slipping his tongue between my lips. I cling to him as my body throbs around his cock, adjusting to the sudden fullness.
When he begins to move, I feel as if the world is crumbling away around us. He drives into me, slowly at first but quickly increasing in speed. Over and over and over again he buries himself, and he leans harder against the backs of my thighs with every thrust. I can't move even if I wanted to. I can only submit to his body, to the demands of his mouth and his cock. I curl my fingers, pressing my nails further into his skin.
He pauses only once, to grab my arms and yank them up, catching them by the wrists. He presses them down on the cushion on either side of my head, trapping them in his grip. It's cramped—one of my arms is bent against the seat, the other elbow rubs the back of the seat in front of us—but I don't care. I don't care about anything but the heat of his skin against mine, the fullness of him inside of me, the joys of his body.
“Fuck, Lily,” he chokes out.
I catch his mouth with mine and suck his bottom lip between my teeth. He curses against my mouth, but he moves faster, pounding into me with wild abandon. My head hits against the car door, but I don't care. The pain only adds to the intensity of this moment, and pleasure surges through my veins.
I thought my last climax was a big one, but it's nothing compared to the ecstasy that suddenly explodes through my flesh. I shake with the force of that violent wave, lost to everything but the pleasure coursing between us, wild as the storm outside.
Calder curses again and gives a hard, deep thrust. His body goes rigid on top of mine, and then he shudders as release pours through him as well. After a moment he leans back and slides my legs off of his shoulders, and then he lowers himself gently on top of me. I can feel the galloping of his heart against my own, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
It’s too easy, like this, to forget how much I hate him. To forget that I’m supposed to be in control of myself and my emotions and this situation. To forget why I came here, and why I stormed out to the car in the first place.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but the warmth of his breath against my ear and the softness of his skin against my own.
Here, right now, that’s enough.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A little while later, when my body starts to cool down, I realize my feet are getting wet. Calder never bothered to close the car door, and now our tangled legs and feet are dangling out in the rain. But I have a hard time rousing myself. I just want to lie here with Calder's weight on me and his lips against my neck. In here, it's easy to ignore the problems of the outside world.
It's Calder who finally moves, but only to prop himself up on his elbows and stare down at me.
“Well,” he says, his voice still ragged, “that was something.” His dark eyes roam over my face. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” His own lips are swollen from my teeth, and I'm filled with a wicked sense satisfaction at the lingering evidence of our wild coupling.
“Only if you count the good kind of pain,” I whisper.
The corner of his mouth curls up, and he sweeps a strand of sweat-soaked hair away from my forehead before leaning down and brushing his lips against mine. Now that we're no longer in the throes of passion, I notice the faint metallic taste of blood in his kiss. He notices it, too, for he pulls away and touches his bottom lip gingerly.
“A bit of a biter, aren't we?” he says.
My cheeks go hot, but this time I don't turn away from his gaze. I'm not ashamed of myself for getting a little rough.
And neither is he. He reaches out and rubs his thumb along my neck. “Ready to go again?”
“What?” My body is already responding to the suggestion, but I'm not sure it can handle another round like that without exploding into a million pieces.
My thoughts must register on my face because Calder lets out a laugh.
“I'm joking,” he says, leaning down and brushing his nose against mine. “But perhaps we can continue this later. Maybe somewhere with a little more room.”
I'm still too drunk on our passion to do anything but smile and nod.
We climb awkwardly out of the car. The cold rain is a shock against my heated skin, but for a moment I close my eyes and lean my head back, just letting it wash over me. It makes me feel like a normal person again, not just some sex-high wild woman. After a moment I open my eyes and look back at Calder, who's reaching back into the car for our clothes. Even in the gray, overcast light, the red marks stand out starkly against his bare back. I gasp.
“What is it?” he says.
“Your back,” I say. “I didn't mean to—I mean, you said I didn't hurt you.”
He reaches around, and his fingers brush against the raised gouges across his spine, slashes made by my nails. He laughs.
“Wild little minx,” he says, stepping forward and catching me up in his arms. He leans down and captures my mouth with his. I melt against him, relishing the sensation of his own fingers digging into the flesh along my hips. His lips are fierce, hungry, and he gives my bottom one a nip before releasing me once more.
“We should probably get inside,” he says. “You have goosebumps.”
I almost tell him the truth—that those goosebumps are from his touch, not the cold—but the sound of my ringtone cuts me off.
“Here.” Calder reaches into the bag he brought of my things and grabs the phone. His eyes flick down at the screen a
s he hands it to me. “Ah. Apparently you're not supposed to answer.”
I hear the question in his voice, even as my own hand freezes on the cell. I don't even have to look down at the screen. There’s only one person in my phone labeled “Do Not Answer.”
I don’t know why Garrett’s calling again, but I’m really not in the mood to deal with him right now. I told him to call the Center. If he has any questions or updates, he can talk to my dad. I reach into the bag for my clothes and find his sister’s dress next on top of my muddy, wrinkled things.
I glance up again to find Calder, meaning to ask him about it, but he’s staring at me with an intense expression.
“It's nothing,” I say, trying to dispel his concern. “No one important.”
“Is this guy bothering you or something?” Calder says.
I shrug. “It's not really any of your business.”
“I would think it's at least partially my business, considering what just happened between us.”
The last thing I want to do is talk to Calder about Garrett.
“I don't delude myself into thinking what just happened between us was anything more than sex. I'm not obligated to tell you about any other men in my life, just as I don't expect you to tell me about your other women.” I do have some pride, after all.
“This isn't about our romantic history,” Calder objects. “If someone's listed as 'Dipshit' on your phone, I don't think I'm overreaching to think his call might be unwelcome.”
“I can handle it, I promise,” I say. “I'm a big girl.”
“How often does he call you?”
“I can handle it,” I snap. I yank the dress over my head and shove my arms through the sleeves. I can't believe I'm having this argument with him. Why does he care who calls me?
For now, at least, he seems content to drop the issue. Neither of us speak as we pull on the rest of our clothes. The fuzzy, post-coital glow is gone, and now I'm only cold, wet, and annoyed. I reach around and tug on the zipper of my dress, but it gets stuck halfway up.
“Here,” Calder says. Before I can object, he steps behind me and pulls my zipper up the rest of the way. His hand lingers at the base of my neck.
“I wasn't trying to push you,” he says, so softly that I can barely hear him over the rain. “I was just worried, that's all.”
I turn and glance up at him over my shoulder.
“I don't need you to protect me.”
“We all need people to protect us sometimes.”
“And sometimes,” I say, stepping out of his grip, “we need the freedom to fight our own battles.”
He doesn't say anything as I bend and grab the rest of my bag off the ground. I wonder if he thinks I'm going to climb back in the car. To be honest, I’m tempted. I don't want to admit defeat, even now. But this time the sensible side of me wins out.
“Let's go,” I say, moving back toward the gate. “Unless you want to stay out here in this weather all day.”
It's not until we're inside, dripping in the foyer, that I raise the issue of the bet.
“Looks like you'll be fulfilling your father's pledge to the Center after all,” I say.
He freezes, frowns. “What?”
“Our bet,” I say, surprised I have to remind him. “You lost.”
He shakes his head. “I'm afraid you lost, Ms. Frazer.”
“You were the one who dove into the car and grabbed me,” I say, reaching up to rub the back of my head. “I still have the bump from where I hit the window. You made the first move.”
“That wasn't our bet.” He steps toward me, dripping water all over his fancy silk carpet. “Our bet was who would be the first one to give into their baser instincts.”
“Same thing.”
“Not at all.” He's only a few steps from me now.
“You,” he says softly, his breath caressing my cheek, “You were touching yourself.”
“That wasn't part of our bet.”
“It fulfills the conditions. You admitted that you were thinking of me.”
I jerk back from him. “That's not what we meant by the bet, and you know it.”
“Perhaps that's not what you understood it to mean, but it's what the terms dictate.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You're not going to trick me into letting you win. You grabbed me. You kissed me. You told me you couldn't control yourself.”
“If we're arguing that detail,” he says, closing the distance between us again, “then you were the one who gave me complete permission to lose control.”
“This is ridiculous. You just don't want to admit you've lost.”
“Should we consult a third party? I can call my lawyer if you want. He has experience dealing in matters like this.”
I roll my eyes. This is getting absurd.
“You owe the Center two years of the pledge money your father promised,” I say.
“You won't get it.”
I'm going to punch him. I'm actually going to punch him this time. He'll probably sue me or something, but it'll be worth it. What else do I have to lose at this point?
Calder must read the violence on my face because he takes a step back.
“I'm sorry, I truly am,” he says. “I told you that I always keep my word, but I'm not in a position to throw away huge chunks of money just because someone misunderstood something I said.”
From where I’m standing, he’s most definitely in a position where he can—and does—throw huge chunks of money at any number of things, but I can see this line of argument is going nowhere.
“Fine,” I say. “Then why don't we make another bet? Double or nothing.”
His eyes flash. He's intrigued.
“What did you have in mind?” he says.
Honestly, I don't know. But I'm not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I glance around, desperate for ideas, but I can't even begin to think of the options in a house like this. Should I challenge him to another splash fight on the roof? Suggest a round of pool or darts in the game room?
Something he mentioned in passing during our tour pops into my mind.
“You said you used to play hide and seek with your sister?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we bet on a game of hide and seek?”
In reality I have no idea what I'm suggesting. But Calder seems excited by the idea, so I decide to push it a little further.
“Perhaps,” I say, making a show of glancing around. “It's fitting for a stormy day like today.”
“Am I to be the one to hide or seek in this scenario of yours?” he says, drawing near me again.
I don't know what to say. He has the advantage either way. On the one hand, if he hid, then I—
What the hell am I thinking? How old am I—six?
“Forget it,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s a stupid idea.”
He moves toward me, and suddenly the wall's at my back. Calder leans over me.
“It's not stupid at all. In fact, I like the idea very, very much.”
“That's just because you know all the good hiding spots,” I say lightly, trying to make a joke of it. I don't trust the way my heart is beating. I don't trust myself when he's so close.
He chuckles and props a hand on the wall beside my head, closing me in.
“We can bend the rules easily enough,” he says. “Make it a little more even for you.”
I look up at him through my lashes. “And how, exactly, do you suggest we do that?”
His eyes darken as they hold my own.
“I'll give you a massive head start,” he says with a wicked smile.
“That's not an advantage. That should be a standard rule in a house this size. It probably takes half an hour to walk from one side to the other.” I frown up at him. “And who's to say that I'll be the one hiding?”
“As you pointed out, I know all the good spots already,” he says. “Besides, I rather like the idea of chasing you down. It's very… primal, isn't it?
”
The way he says that sends a shiver down my spine.
“You still have the advantage,” I say.
He considers this for a moment, and I can't help but notice the way his pulse beats in his throat. He's thrilled by our little game, and the knowledge of this sends an echoing response through my own body.
“How about this,” he says. “I'll give you a ten minute head start. After that, we'll set a definitive time limit—say, an hour. You said yourself that it will probably take thirty minutes to walk from one side of this place to the other. I may have a more thorough knowledge of this house than you do, but I certainly can't search every room in an hour. That should make things even.”
It's a start, at least.
“Who will keep the time?” I ask.
“We'll set the alarms on our phones.” He whips his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the clock function. I fish my own cell out of my bag of muddy clothes and follow his lead.
But when I look at him again, he’s frowning.
“I didn’t realize what time it was,” he says. He glances up. “I’m sorry, Lily, but I have to make a few calls.”
“Oh. Okay.” I tell myself the little dip in my belly isn’t disappointment.
He raises his hand to my cheek.
“After that,” he says, brushing his thumb across my lips, “then you bet your sweet little ass that I mean to hunt you down and claim my prize.”
“Your prize?”
“We did say double or nothing,” he says, a dark gleam in his eye. “I think it's only fair with stakes this high that I get something for catching you.”
I’m almost afraid to ask the question. “What do you want?”
He leans toward me, and for a breathless moment I think he's going to kiss me, but he stops just shy of my lips.
“If I win,” he murmurs, “then you're mine. All night.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Yours?”
“At my mercy,” he breathes. He runs a single finger down my neck.
“Should I be afraid?” I ask him.
An eager smile stretches across his lips. “Very.”
Before I can respond, he steps away from me.
Red Hot Obsessions: Ten Contemporary Hot Alpha Male Romance Novels Boxed Set Page 12
