by Angel Payne
“Huh?”
“Reciprocation,” he clarified. “Pretend you are giving it now, Camellia.”
“Now?” I bit out. “Here? But—”
He meshed our lips again, not lunging as deep but adding a lot of technique to make up for it. Ahhhh. Even without tongue, kissing was the man’s complete wheelhouse. He thrust his whole self into it, groaning against my mouth as if it were his last act before dying. “Just pretending,” he finally rasped. “Okay?”
“My ass,” I flung back—only to gasp as he slotted the ridge of his crotch into the V of mine. With his other hand, he hiked one of my legs around his waist. If our clothes were gone, my body would be an open portal for his. He’d be inside me in a second—and I’d be one damn happy camper with every new inch of the adventure.
“Your ass is perfection,” he conceded, “but at the moment, your pussy is my focus.” Shit. He had to start the hip rocking thing, now tempting me toward happy camper even with the barriers between us. My mouth fell open as his slow, wicked thrusts instantly turned our bodies into flint and steel. “Tell me, sevette, how it would prepare to ‘reciprocate’ to me.” He glided a hand back to my face, tilting it up so our gazes fully met. “We are only pretending. Let your imagination fly. Would you be wet for me, Camellia? And tight?”
“Yes.” I was shocked that much made sense. Once the lust kicked in, my lucidity didn’t stand a chance.
Dangerous. The word pounded in again, demanding I listen. This was dangerous. He was dangerous.
It was truer when a larger thought took hold. What if somehow, in some way, twin bolts of fate had struck that day on the plaza? What if they’d destined us to reunite now? It didn’t add to a molecule of sense, but maybe that was also the point. Maybe “sense” had parked me in the rut back home. And yeah, it was a rut. I couldn’t ignore it any longer, not after all the madness and magnificence of this week, even the insanity of—well, whatever this was—with Evrest. The ditch hadn’t been Faye’s fault, or even Mom and Dad’s. It had simply happened. Sooner or later, I’d have to think about it, figure out what to do.
But not now.
For another few moments, I chose to fly above the rut. And the danger. And embrace the power of the word that repeated on my lips.
“Yes. Yes, I’d be wet. And tight. And…and achy.” I teethed his lower lip, empowered by his tight, hard moan. “And probably quivering.”
His eyes flared. His erection expanded. The thunder of it pounded between my legs, as if drawing power from the storm in the mural. “Quivering… everywhere?”
“Everywhere,” I whispered. “From the lips of my tunnel to its darkest corners…the places inside that’d be begging for your cock.”
“Fuck.” It was a filthy sound, lust caking the syllable like mud. My senses rolled in the dirt with him, compelling my body to match every wonderful thrust of his. I dug my heels into his back, wordlessly urging him to ramp the pace—right after a mental note to apologize for the Docs tread I’d likely marked into his vest.
In that perfect way, perhaps dictated by fate, he heard me.
He thrust faster. I whimpered in surrender. And throbbed. And blazed. Arousal twisted in my deepest sex, twirling up like a tornado funnel, clenching every inch of my walls while spinning toward the plains of my control.
My whimpers turned to sighs.
Sighs turned to pants.
Waiting. Wanting. Needing the instant when the tornado razed the barn—
And the world stopped once more.
“More.” Evrest’s charge was a snarl in my ear. “More words, sevette. What would you do…once I was inside you, filling your secret corners?”
My eyes closed as the dream consumed me. “I’d never want to let you go. Clamp all my muscles around you, keep you deep inside as I could. Then I’d turn my mouth to your ear, and I’d beg you.”
His breath caught. Oh God, I loved making him do that. “Beg me…for what?”
I made him wait for it. Rubbed my mouth against the curve of his ear, letting him feel my teasing smile. Just one more second…
The phone on his desk buzzed three times.
We bolted apart. Teenagers caught on the couch in the basement.
Evrest popped to his feet. I sat up, lungs still pumping. He stalked to the desk, scraping his hair back, before jabbing a button on his desk phone. “Yes.” He should’ve just cussed for all the wrath thrown in it.
“The architectural team for the new hospital wing is here for their two o’ clock meeting, Majesty.”
He glanced to me. I stood, straightening my clothes. Composure was back—barely. He took a few more seconds, grimacing while adjusting the bulge beneath his fly. After several deep breaths, he finally told Fascha to send the group in.
The team consisted of three men. Two were older, while one appeared between Evrest and me in age. He was the one who strode forward first, shaking Evrest’s hand, barely able to contain his curious glance at me as he did. Though I nodded and smiled, I retrieved my note from the couch and prepared to quietly slip out.
Until Evrest turned my rule-breaking excursion into more of a complication than it already was.
He reached out to me, palm up and fingers extended. Shit. He was offering Kryptonite again, with a side dish of his come-here-and-sin-with-me command. I wouldn’t resist and the bastard knew it. Even if that weren’t the case, refusing him in front of his colleagues would be a slap past rude, not to mention all the palais etiquette busted in the brawl.
“Gentlemen, before we begin, I should like introduce Miss Camellia Saxon. She is the production manager of Mr. Dane’s film crew, and stopped in to confirm that I shall be accompanying them up to Asuman tomorrow.”
“You’re what?” Whip-snap of recovery. “I—I mean—of course. Yes, I did.”
I jabbed him with a glare without any of the architects noticing. What. The. Hell? I didn’t know which bombshell to seethe at him for first: the hot mess of arousal I was taking out of here as a “fabulous parting gift” or the one I’d fight off for the next three days. My plan of getting over him with the jaunt to Asuman was officially blown to shreds, and not in a fun confetti popper way.
Back burner. At least for the moment. Time to pull out the “Ms. Saxon” charm and use it for quick pleasantries with the men. All three of them were excited about the plans for the new wing, which would focus on neonatal and pediatric care for the Arcadians. Focusing on them helped me cope, at least a little, with the arcs of energy up my arm as Evrest guided me out, taking my hand and tucking it beneath his elbow.
If he expected parting words, he was sadly mistaken. His hand, now digging into my elbow, said differently. Dammit. His hold was so tight that if I tried to wrench free, I’d end up making one or both of us look like asses.
His lips hardly faltered from his practiced smile while murmuring, “Meet me back here tonight. Please.”
“No.”
“I need to touch you again, Camellia.”
“And I need to stay mad at you.” Little head tilt. Sweet smile. I was getting good at this acting thing. “Why wasn’t I told that you’re coming with us to Asuman?”
“I was not certain I could make it until an hour ago.” His expression changed. While the smile remained, it sharpened, deepened…like a wolf scenting its prey. “I planned on going to your office with the news but then you appeared here…as if hearing my fantasies again.”
Heavy swallow. Painful thud in my throat. Neither helped the molten heat he stirred once more through me. All of me.
“Stop that,” I snapped.
“Why?” He slid closer. Gray, white, gray; I could count his damn pinstripes. Smell my arousal, mixed with his cologne. Breathe in his power, and sway from it. Hell. I struggled to stay standing while he made the whole thing appear like an innocent goodbye between friends. “I can scale mountains after making you flush like that, sevette. I can leap over oceans with the power of that pulse in your neck alone. And when you come for me, I beco
me the ruler of the whole damn world.”
Okay, forget the swallowing thing now. I was officially helpless. Locked into looking up—
To find him already gazing into me.
Intent.
Incredible.
Beautiful.
Impossible.
“Evrest—”
“Meet me. Please.”
I clenched my teeth. Couldn’t barely get my name straight, let alone the strength to resist him—but somehow did. “Dammit. Fate hates being tempted.”
He answered me in a whisper. “Unless it is being fulfilled.”
I couldn’t think about how right his words felt.
Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
My brain started sprinting for a gold medal headache. My body was about to jump into the race, when a tumult in the lobby yanked our sights up.
Fascha rushed in. Her Blade Runner glamour was marred by a clear case of frazzled. “Majesty, I apologize. I tried to tell them you were in a closed meeting, and—”
“I tried to tell your girl that I knew that already.”
The interruption carried an accent I knew all too well. I tensed before its owner even appeared, flouncing through the portal in her gold full-skirted day dress and matching heels, looking set for a fashion shoot in Rome. Her lips were crimson and flawless, her smile dazzling yet classy.
Chianna.
Shit.
The Alpha Distinct had arrived. And after taking one look at my proximity to Evrest, narrowed her eyes with a clear message. She knew what she’d be tearing into for a teatime snack this afternoon.
Me.
Chapter Ten
‡
“Evrest. Darling.” The second word flowed out of the woman with the subtlety of a Siamese clawing the head off a sparrow. She flashed—well, gritted—a wider smile at us. “I was not aware you had invited…others…to the meeting.”
“I do not recall inviting you to the meeting.” His face darkened. “Miss Saxon stopped by to confirm some arrangements for a location shoot they are doing at Asuman Beach.”
“Ahhh.” The delight on Chianna’s face actually seemed genuine. “What an honor to know my special region of Arcadia will be represented in the film. Asuman is only a few miles east of my home city, Colluss. My papa is the First-Past Regent Mayor.”
“Ah.” Forced smile. Half nod. “That sounds really…” Like a lame placeholder. “Regal.”
“He was mayor of the city for two terms. Likely would be again, if not for the silly term limit rules.”
“We have term limits in America, as well.” Sometimes, my conscious did work. No comment on this issue was likely the best comment with Chia Pet.
“Well.” The tiny falter in her demeanor was proof I’d decided right. And if I was honest, a little gratifying. “If you should need assistance or a guide—”
“The crew has everything they need.” Evrest’s hand, still on my elbow, tightened as his tone did. “That is why she was just leaving. Perhaps you can be a true helpmate and show her the proper path back to the north wing?”
“That would be awesome.” I maintained my smile, despite how Chianna looked as if she’d rather escort a toad back to its bog. “I’m not sane without three maps and a GPS readout.” Still the truth. Sort of.
Chianna wrapped a gloved hand around his forearm and canted a practiced pout. “Perhaps Fascha can do it? You know the children’s wing for the hospital is my principal passion these days.”
Besides walking up an aisle with Evrest at the end?
The woman barely skipped a beat before going on, “Besides…I have brought a surprise for you.”
I would’ve laughed again while watching the tension creep across Evrest’s shoulders but real sympathy intervened. Something told me Chianna’s “surprises” had never been pleasant ones.
“Oh?” he growled.
Suspicion confirmed.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I arranged it especially for this meeting.”
“Oh.” His tone dipped into pure dread.
Chianna slinked a bigger smile before motioning through the doorway at Fascha, as if cueing the assistant to bring something in.
Not something.
Someone. Times four.
The room’s energy leaped as four children ran in. Evrest laughed as they all shouted, racing each other to get to him. Now dropped to a knee, he welcomed them with open arms.
A grin burst on my lips. The kids, all in red and gold school uniforms, were delighted to see their leader—but Evrest’s joy was like watching the human form of New Year’s Eve. He was lit from within, trading fist bumps with the boys and tugging at the girls’ curls, his face suffused with open innocence despite its selected-for-sin angles.
I was enchanted. As if seeing him for the first time—and really liking what I saw.
When one of those girls screamed my name, I almost jumped out of my skin. I didn’t get too much time to dwell on the sensation, when a head of familiar black curls plowed straight into me.
“Cam!”
“Why, Lady Renata of Paris.” I bent and hugged Carissa tighter. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Chianna practically preened. “The design of a children’s hospital wing might do well with some hands-on opinions, Your Majesty.”
“Agreed.” The word was diplomatic. Evrest’s tone wasn’t. “But taking them out of school for it should have been cleared with my staff, Chianna. They would have informed you this was a budget meeting only.” He softened as he looked to the kids. “All the boring things only, I am afraid.”
Rissa scowled at him. Her eyes might have been blue to his green, but in every other way they were alike—especially when peeved. “So we have to go back?”
Evrest answered with a firm stare. All the kids moaned.
Chianna ditched her preen mode for full panic. I reined back the urge to shake her. There were a dozen ways to spin this and make everyone happy, but she was frozen after thinking she’d pissed Evrest off. Sure, he was upset, but the damage wasn’t a bomb site. In the grand scheme of life—especially marriages—dumb mistakes like this were the minor bumps.
But the silent stalemate wasn’t moving anyone along.
“Suggestion?” I hoped my smile looked helpful. “Why not a win-win for everyone? The kids go back to school but you stop at the local ice cream joint first. There’s one in town, right? I remember seeing it during our drive from the airstrip. Looked cute.” I winked at the two boys, now rolling their eyes at my descriptor. “I mean, it looked cool.”
The children drew breath for excited cheers but held off until Evrest ruled on the matter. When he cocked a lopsided grin and nodded his consent, they screamed—and Chianna let out a gasp of relief. All was well in Alpha Distinct land again.
Be careful what you assume.
As we followed the kids down the hall to the private entrance for the south wing, I ventured, “They seem like awesome kids. I know that Carissa is Evrest’s cousin, but are any of the others—”
The woman halted short. The hall was infused with eerie silence now that her heels weren’t tapping the high-fashion version of Click Clack Moo. “Miss Saxon.” She twisted her lips, leaving Sophia Loren behind for Joan Crawford because of it. Ew. “Do not think for one moment that your little stunt makes us friends.”
Maybe shock was a good thing sometimes. Mine prevented any other response than a stammered, “My little what?”
“Fermé,” she spat. “I am not interested in your pretenses.”
“My what?”
“All right. Let me phrase it in a way you may understand. Drop the act, bitch.”
She popped a haughty nod. I tried not to laugh but the moment was too perfect to resist. “Congratulations. You’ve binge-watched enough reality TV bimbos to impersonate one.”
The click-clacks returned, one-two-three, as she stepped close enough to qualify as in my face. “I will not repeat myself, Miss Saxon. I saw the way you and Evrest were pressed together when I entered h
is office. I also saw the way he looked at you. It was disgusting, and I will not be subjected to it again. If I am, I promise you shall leave this island shrouded in nothing but your own disgrace.”
My laughter faded. To fill its place, I managed a believable eye roll—but as I stepped around her, refusing to further validate her threat, my knees were the texture of pudding.
At the same time, my mind and heart were still drenched in another liquid. The magic potion of Evrest’s voice, reverberating four words through me.
Meet me. Please. Tonight.
Shit.
Shit.
What the hell did I do now?
Chapter Eleven
‡
The cast and crew tried to meet for dinner every night in the north wing’s airy cafeteria but tonight, I sent down for a plate. Nobody would be the wiser, thinking me consumed with last-minute details for the trek that would take us to the other side of the island for three days.
In part, it was the truth. In a bigger part, it wasn’t. I didn’t know if I could face Harry right now, much less get food down with him at the table. He’d start asking about shit like logistics and arrangements and numbers, when the only numbers I could seem to focus on were the ones I’d logged with Evrest Cimarron.
Gotten naked? One.
Screamed my way through orgasms? Two.
Minutes I’d lasted after that before passing out on him? Ten. Maybe.
Minutes I’d held out before letting him climb between my legs again? About the same.
Times I’d slid my tongue with his and longed for it to never end?
The accounting got fuzzy from there. Just as my thoughts and feelings did about—
I pushed my head into my hands.
About everything.
I’d broken the rules. A whole, scary mess of them. The weirdest—and scariest—part of it all? I sat there staring at my picked-over spaghetti and tiramisu, contemplating stepping right past them again.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Rules were never my problem. I was a rock star when it came to walking the straight line, keeping the books to the penny, dotting the i’s, crossing the t’s. The rules had given me structure when none came from Mom or Dad. Gotten me through all the years at Chapman. Been the safety net for walking into Faye’s office for that first terrifying job interview. The rules had been some my dearest besties.
