CRUZ: Billionaire Bonded Romance Suspense (Illicit Book 4)

by May, Savannah

  CRUZ

  (Club Illicit Series – Book Four)

  by

  Savannah May

  www.DirtySexyRomance.com

  SavannahMayRomance@gmail.com

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2015 Savannah May. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2015.10.28

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  Also check out the Billionaire Encounter Series of shorts Book ONE available HERE

  A Note from Savannah

  CRUZ is Book 1 of the Club Rogue Series and also Book 4 of Club Illicit. Many readers wrote me to say that they wanted Illicit to continue and to read more about Cruz, the Nawashi, shibari rope bondage master.

  Cruz would not let me leave him and so now here he is. The series is set in the same world as Club Illicit and features the continuing story of Cole and Harlow, but with a new relationship at the center. Cruz has three women in his life, Harlow who he connected with at the end of Illicit, Kennedy, his strange clinging sister, and Danielle, the girl with no name he can't get out of his head.

  CRUZ can be read alone without knowing the backstory of Illicit but it may be more enjoyable if you have read the first series. So that new readers may check, I have included Book 1 of Club Illicit at the end of this book as a free gift.

  Enjoy!

  Chapter ONE

  Wednesday is not a big night for the party crowd. I thought I'd be safe dropping by our old meeting place. No one I knew was likely to be there on a Wednesday. Still I should never have gone to Victory for a couple of drinks, not the night before the most important second interview of my life. And definitely not, when the smarmy gravel voice behind me made cold prickles rise all along my spine.

  “Are you still stalking me?'

  “What? No of course not.” I spun around to face the smug grin of my ex fiance, every pore itching to land a slap across his carefully contrived stubble. And what was with the 'still'? When had I ever stalked the man who broke my heart and wrecked my life?

  “Then what are you doing in my local bar, if you aren't loitering with intent to accidentally run into me?”

  What the -? Bradley's arrogance grew by the second. His head expanded like Pinocchio’s nose, not from lies but from being stuck on himself. Every event made his head expand because every situation was all about him.

  “This is my local too. If you recall it was me who introduced you to this place,” I said, choosing not to rip his ego on the off-chance he might slink back to the coven of lawyers he'd emerged from. But my heart was doing triple pirouettes in my chest. This man had once had the power to tear me apart and he'd enjoyed doing it.

  “Come on Dan, you know there's still a spark firing between those perfect round globes just for me.”

  He tapped on my chest, right between my breasts like he retained power over my body.

  “No hard feelings that it didn't work out between us. Win some, lose some, but I'm willing to be friends.”

  Didn't work out? One minute I was engaged, one half of the golden couple at MacKenzie Dillinger, attorneys at law, next I was a homeless reject with a fiance who dropped me for the sexy new hot shot corporate lawyer and fired from my associate job for sleeping with co-workers. What? You couldn't make it up, right? And this was supposed to be a practice dedicated to justice and human rights. What a freaking joke.

  If my oldest bestest bud from college hadn't taken me in, I really would be on the streets. Bradley tossed me out like an old sofa. I wasn't going to let my ex put one over on me and no way I was changing my favorite hangout like I was ashamed or scared to run into him. And for the record, I was certainly not stalking him.

  “That's okay Bradley,” I smiled sweetly up at his smug face, his dark eyes always on the seduction trail. How had I not seen that from the start? “I've got enough friends and I'm choosier now.”

  “Ahh, come on Dan. You know how sweet we were together. What about another taste of the cherry pie? For old times sake.”

  “I'd rather suck lemons all night. Now if you'll excuse me.”

  As I stepped away, Brad grabbed my arm, pinching my flesh hard in his firm grip.

  “Don't be a little bitch, Dan. There's two in every relationship and this wasn't all my fault so don't go pinning the wrap on me. And I know you're hot for me still. Admit that you haven't bedded anyone since we split.”

  “If I haven't that's only because I lost faith in humanity after a year long relationship with you.”

  I lost faith in life for a while. Every destruction is a new beginning and the split had made it finally clear that my heart was not in corporate law. I needed something with more soul, whatever that was.

  “Come on baby, I know you.” Brad had softened the venom and switched his voice back to the wheedling I knew well. “I can see you now, vegged on the sofa in your reading socks eating cold pizza every night.”

  “Get stuffed. You don't know me at all.” But of course he was right. Right down to the reading socks.

  “Oh sorry, I forgot. Nice girls don't veg, they snuggle.”

  I tugged my arm from him and tried to step away but he pulled me back in close. His fingers squeezed my upper arm so tight there'd be a charming set of purple bruises there in the morning. His other hand slipped between my thighs to grind into my slit.

  “Come on baby. Just a fast one in the john. I know how you like doing it in public.”

  “Fuck off Bradley. Go home to Carina, your Rottweiler counselor.”

  “Carina's out of town this week.”

  “So you figured you'd use me for some righteous break up sex?'

  “Only 'cos it's obvious you're so hot for me still.”

  Bradley's fingers rubbed into the wool Lycra mix of my pants, groping for the sweet spot under the layers of fabric. His heavy torso leaned into me, crushing my free arm against a pillar preventing me from slashing his cheek with my fingernails.

  “I think you're a little too close there, my friend.”

  I wrenched my head away from Brad's whiskey breath to check the voice at my shoulder and nearly fainted. My heart dove at my throat muscles, squidging the long gasp that tried to escape. The most stunning image of man right out of a movie had materialized at my side.

  “Fuck off pretty boy, nothing to see here.”

  “On the contrary. I see a woman being abused and I don't like bullies.” A sand in caramel voice I could listen to all night.

  “Do I have to tell you again to take a hike? Get lost or else I'll have to -”

  Bradley squealed like a pig on the run and let go of my arm like it had caught fire. He held up his hand and I saw it hanging limply from the joint.

  “You broke my fucking wrist, you asshole. How did you -? You are dead. Do you know who I am?”

  “Yeah, I do. And Theodore Dillinger is a close friend who I kn
ow wouldn't care to hear that his minions were abusing women.”

  The guy with the blue eyes that seemed to be lit from beneath so they glowed like baubles carefully took my arm and removed me from the bar. Leading me easily through the crush, but not before I had the satisfaction of seeing Bradley's mouth glued to the floor and disbelief plastered across his face.

  “How did you do that?” I whispered, my voice still trapped in my throat from proximity to a man who wasn't of this planet. His hair the bright blonde of every hour spent riding California surf. Beautiful glittering thick lashes shielding those blazing blue eyes. He stood out like gold dust glittering all over black and gray Manhattan. Too impossibly gorgeous to be real. And the body? Lean but carved of stone, powerful as a panther. I hadn't even felt him extract Bradley's hand from between my legs. He'd exerted zero force as far as I could tell and yet he'd snapped my ex's wrist with no effort.

  “Men shouldn't use their strength to intimidate women. That twerp a friend of yours?” my rescuer asked, ignoring my question as he led me out to the sidewalk.

  “No. We dated for a while, a year actually. Until he thought he could do better than an associate and traded up to a junior partner.”

  “Idiot. Good riddance to rubbish. You're well rid of him and you'll have learned to be more choosy in future.”

  “There aren't that many good options in this city.”

  “I don't know if I can claim to be good but I was hoping to buy you a drink. You were the most intriguing woman in the bar as far as I could see.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” I half stuttered. This god from the heavens found me intriguing? Tingles started rippling down my legs and the repulsion Bradley inspired between my thighs swiftly morphed into a needy throb. Bradley was right about one thing, I hadn't been able to so much as hold hands with a man in the three months since we split.

  Depression had killed my confidence which was probably why no human resources manager had seen me as a worthwhile addition to the team. I was feeling a little like no one on earth wanted me and it might have turned serious had it not been for my roommate Bo. He was keeping me going with his humor, not to mention covering my rent. The man was an angel. And here I'd been sent another one of an entirely different nature. My body had just fire-crackered back to life.

  Chapter TWO

  My rescuer was leading me gently but with force through the crush and I was powerless to resist him. I'm not normally a complete wimp but he had sucked me into his orbit like a tiny star into a black hole.

  “But shouldn't we have stayed at the bar for a drink?” I stumbled yet again, rendered numb in the tongue by such iridescent perfection. It was shocking how luminous he was. Any second now he'd be dumping me into a taxi and I didn't want to see this man disappear from my life.

  I couldn't help noticing how every woman in the bar and now on the sidewalk did a sort of double take at my champion. He had the movie star sort of magnetic presence that made them literally shake as they approached. For a second I wondered whether he was a Hollywood actor, or one of those billboard underwear models, it was a no-brainer and if he wasn't he should have been.

  The poor girls turned to nonchalantly get another look at the gorgeous face, the lithe solid body, rippling with more than just muscle. His body emanated energy and life, and dare I say it, lust. And then they glanced in my direction, just to check out what it took to score a man like that. Who in the world had the necessary and how could they get some of that? And then they saw it was only me.

  It would be a nightmare for any woman being Cruz's girlfriend. She'd have to have iron-bolted self-esteem. Which I definitely didn't. Definitely not after Bradley slowly tearing me apart before the final shakedown. Well screw it. The guy found me interesting enough to buy a drink. I'm interesting at least. All I wanted was to be enveloped by his glowing aura just a little while longer. He was swiftly eradicating all the low self esteem dished out by my swine ex.

  “I don't like bars,” he informed me. “The press of stinking humanity doesn't agree with me. Can we go to your place?”

  Every brain cell in the left hemisphere told me to demur and make some excuse. Hell, I just met the guy three minutes ago and he could be some serial killer.

  “Yes, okay but I don't think I have anything to drink.” What can I say? Resistance. Powerless. Serial killers don't look like underwear models and like I said, I needed some more of this deity's jujubes.

  “I have some Remy Louis XIII in the car.”

  We'd stopped on the sidewalk, I looked down and saw another vision at my feet. A car from the future, seemingly crafted from one piece of sleek aluminum and so low it was curb crawling all by itself. I'd never seen anything like it. Now I'm not a car mongrel in any way. It wouldn't bother me if a guy had a beaten up Honda Civic and in fact, after Bradley and his 911, I found men with sportscars a massive red flag. My own personal trigger. But this wasn't a car, it was a road jet, a warrior machine and it fit my knight to perfection.

  “What is this thing?'

  His laugh blitzed the street, attracting more fascinated glances.

  “It's a Huayra.”

  “A why what?'

  “A Huayra—why-raa. Named after the Inca God of the Winds—because it flies through the air like one.”

  Without a remote control, the sides of the car normally known as doors, lifted up like the massive wings of a bird of prey. I felt like the female star in a spy movie and the wowwing moans of passing men behind us reminded me that this was a car to die for. Its every flank sculpted like a bodybuilder's muscles.

  “Are you coming?” the superman asked.

  “I think I might be actually,” I quipped, then shivered. Not because I was impressed by a car that cost over a million dollars but because his fingers had curled around the flesh of my upper arm and made my breasts tingle with excitement. Hunger rose rabid and I had to resist every urge to press into him top to toe.

  Then his hand touched me so lightly in the small of my back, barely there, just enough to support my decision. And enough that his fingertips seared through my skin and I almost melted. Every touch, every look from this man was effortlessly sexual without being at all overt or tacky. It was obvious that he relished physical connection and I wanted him way more connected to me. I was almost breathless, the air tightened in my cleavage with how much I needed this guy closer to me.

  I had to crouch so low to insert myself into the supercar's cockpit, I was almost spread into a yoga asana. And worse, my pants were so tight, it was hard not to spread my legs like a gangly Bambi on ice. I noticed him smile appreciatively as he stood at my door assisting me to get my legs in, literally lifting them one by one while I giggled with nerves and humiliation. There must have been an elegant way to do that but it eluded me in the breathless excitement of being confined with the man. His hand under my inner thigh meant I had to press both tight together to relieve the tingling spreading warmly there. I could have sworn my breasts expanded two cup sizes with hungry demands for attention. A stunning man has an explosive effect on an innocent woman's body. He must have found it quite entertaining to observe the response he inspired in the feminine population.

  “Who are you, Batman? Bond?” I said, when the demigod slid into the car like a well-oiled machine and the air rushed out.

  We strapped in close together in the heavily charged interior. The cosseting leather seats, silver aluminum and digital glowing controls made it seem like we were set to launch into the stratosphere. The goosebumps rose all down my exposed thighs and I was glad I'd decided against the mini skirt.

  “Just a guy.” He smiled again with a grin that made me tremble. I shifted in the seat, trying to ease out my rising thirst.

  “A guy with too much money. You could feed thousands of starving kids for the price of this vehicle.”

  “Money's only energy, it comes around and around. It's better to spend it than to hoard it in a bank.” he replied.

  “Try telling that to starving kids in th
e third world.”

  “Do you want to save the world, Miss Moneypenny?”

  “Sorry, am I coming across all vigilante? I'm hoping to get a job at an abused women's charitable foundation.”

  “A worthwhile reason to get out of bed every day.”

  That word brought an image that inspired shivers of hunger and trepidation. This man was too awe-inspiring, I might get burned by the sun god.

  “The second interview is tomorrow, actually. I should really go straight home to bed.”

  “My thoughts exactly. You'll be tucked in bed before you know it.”

  Tucked. He said tucked, Dani. Get your mind out of the gutter. This guy would never be into you like that. He probably just gets off on rescuing damsels from city assholes.

  He didn't even notice all the women squeezing their thighs together as they passed and hobbled on down the street. Oh my god, of course, he must be on Bo's team. My roommate was my best friend, natch because not only was he one of the city's top hairstylists about to open his own salon, he's every girl's best friend, a gay man. I couldn’t help but feel a wedge of disappointment rise in my stomach. The fact that the god was unattainable even in my dreams was, you know, depressing.

  He started the car and it vibrated silently to life and the dash lit up like Times Square in every color of the digital constellation. He laughed when I squealed out loud and grabbed for the leather door handle as the torque of acceleration threw me back in my seat.

  My other hand had grabbed for his iron bolt, silk wool covered thigh

  “Now you know why it's worth having a Huayra. I get to have amazing women hang on to me for protection.”

  “Yeah, like you need any assistance from a car.”

  He smiled with humility and I found it so refreshing after Bradley, to be with a man who wasn't remotely stuck on himself. More so when by every law known to nature he should be a total Narcissus.

  “This is like G-force.” I shouted over the roar of the engine. “I mean, if cars like this are indicators of small, er, appendages then you must be a eunuch.”