Billionaire's Game
Page 20
“Get some rest,” Liam advised. They stood awkwardly in the door, tall and well-muscled, seeming oddly uncertain of themselves. Then the door began to close.
“Wait!” She was shoeless, shivering—mostly nerves, she thought—and she didn’t want to be alone.
“Yes?” Cameron asked her finally.
“You never answered me,” she managed. “What are you going to do with me?”
Again, they exchanged that look, and again she could not decipher it.
“You’ll stay here,” Liam said simply. “No one will bother you.” His teeth were gritted on the last phrase. “You’ll get to go home when Dominick coughs up the information we need.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” She whispered.
“Good night, Miss McDermott.” The door swung closed.
“He left me there to be captured!” She pleaded. Why she was pleading with them, she did not know, but she launched herself at the door and yanked at the handle even while she heard the lock turn. “Please! He doesn’t care about me! He doesn’t care!”
There was a silence, too long, and then footsteps receded slowly down the hallway and Lily leaned her head against the door, trying not to sob with fear.
Chapter Three
“Stop pacing,” Liam ordered from behind the desk.
“I can’t.” Cameron threw him a look and returned to his circuit of the room. “I want to go up there and…”
“Don’t think about it.”
It was good advice, but the time for it was long past. From the first moment Liam had passed the woman over, a wordless plea in his eyes, Cameron had felt desire growing, flaring out of control. She’d trembled in his arms, lips parted softly in her fear, and he could feel the curve of her spine, the delicate strength in her neck. She smelled clean, faintly like flowers. And from the look in her eyes while they held her together in the study, she didn’t have the first damned clue what they wanted of her.
It was a unique torment. They’d never gone for innocents. Innocents didn’t want to do what Cameron and Liam wanted. They might both be in their prime, either one of them a catch—just as long as the girl wasn’t too particular about what they did for a living—but taking both of them…wasn’t a thing most girls would do. They’d spent the last few years looking for come-hither glances and long red nails, a certain sway of the hips that said a woman knew just what they were looking for and was only too eager to give it to them. And they’d had fun, a good counterpoint to a job where any day might kill them.
But from the look in Liam’s eyes, having Lily in their arms had told them both the same thing: fun wasn’t enough anymore. Fun, and well-practiced moans, and woman who left matter-of-factly the next day without being asked, had begun to make them both feel empty inside. The women they bedded cared nothing for them, and no matter how practiced their hands and their mouths were, it wasn’t enough.
And then…her. Trembling between them, and Cameron could almost have said she knew what they wanted, and she wanted them back. That fine, soft brown hair straggling out of its bun, the rosy lips still parted as if she didn’t know he was rock-hard while he held her in place, and slowly going mad from the way her chest rose and fell… She was so small, 5’5” at the most—and Cameron, the short one, was 6’4”. To look down and see the slope of her neck, the gentle rise as her breasts trembled with her frightened breaths…
Oh, God, he was going to lose it. He was supposed to hold her on his lap in the car, but at the first bounce, he’d had to shove her aside. That round ass bouncing on his lap would have made him come, right there. He was halfway to tearing off her shirt, pushing her skirt away, taking her in front of everyone—
He dropped into one of the chairs with a groan.
“You’re still thinking about it,” Liam said.
“Like you’re not,” Cameron challenged.
“Of course I am.” Liam looked up, and his ice-blue eyes held something dark, something dangerous. Cameron knew what that look meant. He’d heard the moans of the women Liam turned that look on, and it was making him even harder to think of Lily straddling his friend, held in place by one strong arm, that round ass exposed for Cameron’s fingers.
When his gaze cleared, Liam was looking back at the paperwork.
“So we’re just not going to talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about?” Liam demanded. “She’s our prisoner. We kidnapped her. We can’t…there’s no way even to ask. You saw her, she’s worried we’re going to kill her.”
“You could have taken the time to explain we wouldn’t,” Cameron muttered.
“I was trying to get out of there with everyone’s clothes still on, and I said no one was going to bother her.”
“But she didn’t believe us, did she? Oh, come on, you couldn’t have told her so that—”
“She’s not the kind of woman you can just ask that of.” Liam’s face was strained. “She’s…she knew what we wanted. She knew. Some part of her. But she couldn’t admit it to herself. She’s too innocent for that.”
“She wanted us,” Cameron murmured. His eyes drifted closed at the thought of her spread out on the bed, legs around his waist.
“It doesn’t…” Liam made a strangled sound. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t…”
“I know.” Cameron groaned. “It’s not going to stop me from thinking about it, though.”
“Well, find something to distract yourself,” Liam advised. “Or it’s going to be a long few days.” He paused, pen hovering over a sheet of paper. “Do you think she’s actually a virgin?”
Electricity shot through him. He didn’t go after virgins, didn’t want the young women with their hair still in ponytails and their bright, innocent faces. He’d never understood the appeal, never been much of a one to go for corrupting innocence.
Until now. Now, the thought was enough to make him want a cold shower. Or eight.
“You are going to drive me mad,” he said shortly. “I’m going to bed.”
“Bed?” Liam’s voice was amused. “Or a shower?”
“Shut up.” Cameron resisted the urge to slam the door behind him and climbed the stairs. He was almost shaking with desire, and he turned resolutely away from the old guest bedrooms and toward the room he’d shared with Liam for most of the past year. What he wouldn’t give for there to be a woman there tonight, any woman. It wouldn’t be the same, but it might get him through the night without losing his mind.
The sound caught his ear when he was nearly at the door and he turned, hand on the doorknob. For a moment, he thought it had been nothing, and then it came again: a quiet sob from down the hall.
Cameron squeezed his eyes shut and turned the knob, intending to strip off his clothes and drop straight onto the futon in the corner. He needed release before he saw her again. Then he might have a shred of self-possession.
But the sob came yet again, and he felt his hand come up from the doorknob and his body walk down the hallway even while he screamed at himself to turn around, to go back to his room, that she wasn’t safe with him. That those luscious, perfectly tempting curls and her heart shaped face and her brown eyes were too much for him not to beg for what he wanted.
What both he and Liam wanted.
He hoped Liam was just as distracted as he was. Smug bastard.
The lock clicked under his fingers and he opened the door carefully.
“Lily?”
A sob was his only answer. She had turned out the light. Shutting the door behind him—at least a tiny barrier to her escape—Cameron edged into the room and followed the sound of her crying to the bed. He sat cautiously on the edge of it and felt her shift away.
“Please don’t be scared,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to say that this wasn’t what they did, and that they weren’t going to kill her, and that her boss was one hell of a jerk for leaving her there while he ran for safety. He wanted to say that if they weren’t trying to save another life, they never would have tak
en her. But all of those words seemed inadequate.
“Why shouldn’t I be scared?” She whispered, tears in her voice. “He’s…he doesn’t care for me. He doesn’t care for anyone. And he’ll just let me die.” Her voice quavered on the last word, and any shred of resolve disappeared.
“You’re not going to die,” Cameron told her forcibly. “We are not going to kill you.”
Liam was going to kill him. He would say that being afraid they’d kill her wouldn’t actually kill her, but it might keep her from running away. He would say that if they needed her to make a call to James Dominick, the quaver of fear in her voice had to be there.
And if he was here right now, Cameron knew he’d break, too. They’d done things that would horrify other people, but they had a line. No pain. And no innocent people. She should know she wasn’t going to be made to suffer for this jerk, that they would never do to her what he was having done to someone else.
Her sobs paused briefly at his words.
“What?”
“We need to scare your boss. We need him to tell us where he’s hiding the people he kidnapped. But we would never, ever hurt you. You haven’t done anything. You weren’t involved.”
“But I was,” she whispered. “I’m sure I sent some of those emails. When I think about—”
“Then don’t think about it. You can’t truly think you’re culpable.” He reached out tentatively, and wrapped his fingers around her hand. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away, and so he kept his hand there, touching her, marveling at how comfortable this seemed. “We don’t. Even the guy who hired us would say you aren’t. We’re just trying to get someone back. Remember how Liam said no one would bother you?” A thought occurred to him. They hadn’t planned for all of this. “Your family is going to worry.”
“I don’t…have any family.” She looked down. “My mother died giving birth to me. My father died five years ago. No siblings.”
“A boyfriend?” Could he be more obvious?
“No.” Her voice was bitter. “No boyfriend. No cat. No one to miss me.”
He couldn’t believe that, not for a moment.
“You’ll go home soon,” Cameron said finally. His fingers tightened over hers, and he tried not to leap away when she drew closer. He didn’t know what to say other than that he didn’t want her to go—and he couldn’t say that.
“You’ll keep me safe?” She asked, not understanding the danger she was in, too focused on the fear that someone might truly kill her. All of a sudden, her face was closer.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But Cameron felt his hand rise in the darkness to the faint outline of her face. He cupped her cheek, drew her closer, and their lips met.
Chapter Four
Energy shot through her. She swayed against him, melting at the soft touch of his lips and the almost cautious way he cupped her face. Tension was vibrating through him, a driving need that terrified her and thrilled her all at once. She was sure she knew what he wanted, but she knew only the shape of it, only that he wanted this same thing that made her shiver even while her blood felt like it was on fire.
She’d given up on sex and relationships long ago. She never quite understood what was so good about it to begin with, and none of her boyfriends had shown the patience to wait for her to feel ready. When she watched romantic comedies or read books, it was with a bemused sort of disbelief. No one ever really felt like that. Not really. Right?
Well, she felt it now. Every single word of those books had come true. She could not have stopped if the roof had caved in. She could not have pulled herself away. She wanted…everything. For the first time, she truly wanted it, and she wanted to laugh, too, at her own absurdity: she’d known this man for so little time, and he had kidnapped her. What made him a better choice than any one of her other boyfriends? What earthly reason did she have to trust him?
The answer came to her at once, defying her attempts to wish it away: of all of them, he had the power to take anything he wanted from her, and he hadn’t. He had come here to reassure her. He had left her here and gone away when he could have demanded her compliance.
And the rest…the connection she had felt since the first moment she looked into his eyes. That, she could not explain. She would have dismissed it entirely except that it consumed her. She was aching with it. She had felt the touch of his hands on her skin and the heat of him, and now she could not get enough.
He had more resolve than she did. He drew back, breath coming raggedly.
“We can’t do this.”
She would ask why, but she knew what he would say. “Yes, we can.” He had kissed her, but she had more than returned the kiss by now.
“No. We…we can’t. I can’t.” He stood, backed away. “I…”
“Stay,” she whispered, too lost in desire for any pride. When he did not move, she stood as well. The pajamas she’d found in the dresser felt ridiculous now, little shorts and a camisole, nothing she would have worn herself.
“I have to go.”
Neither of them heard the footsteps on the carpet until Liam was already at the door.
“What’s going on?”
Cameron swore, and Lily tried not to sway. She was already liquid with desire, and the man’s voice only stoked it, making her want—
No. No, she couldn’t want that.
…Could she?
“What did you do?” Liam asked Cameron when neither of them answered. His tone was accusing…and curious. Almost yearning.
“It just happened,” Cameron whispered.
“It didn’t just—”
“I was crying,” Lily said, making both men jump. They were drawn together, close as lovers, and it was like they had forgotten she was here. “He came to make sure I knew I was safe.”
Liam shot Cameron a look.
“You would have done the same if you heard it,” Cameron muttered.
Liam did not respond to that.
“And then what happened?” He asked, his voice dripping menace and heat at the same time.
“I missed her,” Cameron said, almost lazily. When Liam turned his head sharply, there was a moment of understanding between them.
What she expected, Lily did not know. She did not expect for Liam to come into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, and she did not expect his gaze on her face, on her body.
“Come here.”
She could not resist the command: she went to him as if in a dream, sliding into his arms, knowing what he wanted before he said it. This was the electricity she’d felt between them in James’s house, in the study. She’d known his desire, and her own, and all she knew now was that he wanted her. There was not a thought in her mind beyond him—the scent of him, the heat of him, the feel of his body against hers. She stood on tip toe to kiss him and he bent to take her in his arms, one hand sliding down to cup her ass.
When she moaned against his lips, he shuddered. His hand went to the back of her head, holding her in place as his tongue thrust into her mouth. She would have fallen if it were not for his other arm around her back. She could feel him rock-hard, and with daring she hadn’t known she possessed, she slid one hand down to glide over the fabric of his pants. He stiffened, his arms tightening, his assault on her mouth at once confident and desperate. He needed her. He would stop at nothing to have her.
The thought gave her a rush of pleasure, heady and unfamiliar. Other men had wanted to bed her, she knew that. But they had wanted the act. Another woman might have been as good for them. Now, here: Liam wanted her. He wanted to bed her so that he could possess her. He wanted to thrust into her and feel her against him, her, Lily and no one else. The act was far, far less intimate than the fact that he intended to conquer her. She knew it, she could feel it in her bones. And she wanted him so much she was aching.
He broke the kiss at last and she swayed against him.
“Cameron.” His voice was rough with desire, and Lily only now remembered what had happ
ened a few moments before. Shame suffused her. Kissing Cameron, and then Liam. Wanting Liam as wantonly as she had, when only moments before she had been begging Cameron to stay. What would they think of her?
But Cameron was behind her, his body pressing her closer to Liam while his hand tangled in her hair and drew her head back. When she felt his lips at her throat she whimpered. She could feel his hardness, too, pressing against the curve of her ass, and arched her back to press against him. A growl told her what he thought of that, and one hand grabbed her hip to draw her even closer.
His mouth was on hers now, no less possessive than Liam’s, and they held her immobile for their hands to drag lightly across her skin, fingers circling the sensitive skin of her nipple, drawing the camisole up. There were lips on her throat, hands drawing her forward to press against Liam’s cock, and back to feel Cameron once more. She was fumbling with Liam’s belt, desperate to wrap her fingers around him. What this was, she did not know, could not understand. She only knew that this was the first time in years that she had felt complete…and that she had felt like a woman.
When Cameron’s fingers slipped inside her shorts, she gasped. He pulled her away from Liam, lifting her effortlessly, and laid her down on the bed. A light touch guided her hips up as the shorts came down over her legs; he threw them to one side, and his hands urged her to part her thighs for him.
A weight on the bed told her that Liam had joined them. His fingers turned Lily’s face to his and his lips had just met hers when Cameron slid two fingers inside her. She would have cried out except for Liam’s mouth on hers, and his groan at the sound of her pleasure. The fingers withdrew, and thrust again, and then Cameron parted her legs and she felt the touch of his tongue on her clit.
She was going to faint from pleasure. She had forgotten which way was up. All she could feel was Cameron’s fingers sliding into her, how slick she was for him, and his tongue moving on her skin. She could feel Liam’s fingers pinch lightly around her nipple, and she arched her back, pressing her breast into his hand. A moment later, she felt something more, more pressure, stretching her, and pain—jarring.