Caelan's Captive (Limani Warriors Book 1)

by Faye Avalon

  Enjoying herself, and the effect she obviously had on him, she smiled. “In what way?”

  “In a thrusting your breasts in my face kind of way.”

  She thrust a little more. “You don’t like that either? My breasts in your face?”

  Narrowed brown eyes all but glared at her. “Not a question of what I like. It’s a question of you wasting your time.”

  Okay. This was going nowhere fast. She needed a more tactical approach. “Maybe I am wasting my time, at least with you.” She sighed, theatrically, and sipped her champagne. “I’m starting to wonder if the praise regarding your prowess is much exaggerated. You know, an emperor’s new clothes kind of thing.”

  He only raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, I’m not about to waste this dress, or what’s in it,” she said and handed him her glass. “I’ll be looking for my money back, and I’ll be writing a scathing review of the Talbot Agency and how unprofessional their escorts are. See you around.”

  She went to walk away, but he caught her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Pasting on a sneer, she looked down to her wrist, secretly enjoying the contact of his strong fingers around her flesh. “To enjoy myself. You can tag along if you like, play the escort-only card, but I’m still looking for my money back.”

  She waited until he released her, then sauntered away. Praying that her tactic would bear fruit, and that he’d come after her, she headed for a group of her old school buddies chatting at a nearby table. But he didn’t come after her. It seemed the man was a lost cause.

  All she really wanted was to slink away and go home, but she plastered a smile on her face, for Cait’s benefit if nothing else, and accepted almost every invitation to dance. It was while she was slow-dancing that she looked up and spotted James propping up the bar, engaged in conversation.

  Surprise had her stepping on her partner’s toes. She’d thought he’d gone. Mumbling an apology, she glanced over at James again. Their gazes clashed, but then he looked away.

  Damn it, but the evening wasn’t going at all the way Lexi had planned. She’d anticipated that he’d be putty in her hands about now. It wounded her to think that as a male escort he was likely used to servicing women he didn’t find especially attractive, but it seemed she didn’t even rate that highly. Had his rejection seven years ago been the result of his not wanting her? Not being attracted to her? She’d consoled herself with the belief that it was because she’d just turned eighteen, was his best friend’s little sister, and the worse for too much wine. She’d wanted to believe that he was being gallant, when really it was due to him not finding her sexually attractive.

  That really hurt, and while she might have wanted to lay a few ghosts tonight, she wasn’t about to humiliate herself again.

  Eventually, she said her goodbyes and headed for the cloakroom. After picking up her coat she hurried to the entrance foyer where the concierge hailed her a cab.

  “Want to share?”

  She straightened, steeled herself, and turned around. “No.”

  ****

  James almost smiled at the snooty tone, but he was still too tense for any semblance of humor, his nerves strung tight from an evening on the sidelines spent watching her flaunt herself with every man around. Maybe he should have made his escape when she’d given him that out, but her jibe at his lack of professionalism really pissed him off.

  You’re a fucking waste of space, boy. Can’t even steal a car worth a damn.

  Old ghosts, he thought, driving back the memories. He was a different person now. He’d reinvented himself. He wasn’t about to resurrect old ghosts.

  He reached for Lexi’s arm and hustled her into the cab. After giving directions to her place, he settled back. “Enjoy yourself?”

  “Very much. It was a lovely evening.”

  “Didn’t seem much like you needed an escort.”

  “Just as well, because I didn’t have one, did I? And anyway, I wasn’t about to sit around moping because I was denied your exalted, and may I point out expensive, company.”

  “Thought you said you were going to demand a refund.”

  “I am.”

  She turned to look out of the side window. In profile, she still looked like the eighteen-year-old kid he’d nearly seduced on the night of her birthday. It hadn’t been something they’d planned, he and her brother, but they’d gotten drunk and it seemed like a rite of passage to gatecrash a girlie party because the opportunity was there.

  James had taken one look at Lexi in her tight white jeans and off-the-shoulder black lace top and his head had all but blown off. Snookered by alcohol, he’d made it his mission that night to get her out of said jeans and top, and to get his dick inside her if it freaking killed him. She’d been out of bounds up until then, his friend’s kid sister and still at school. But seeing her in an outfit she’d been all but poured into, with a sparkly tiara on top of her pretty blonde tresses that stated Eighteen Today had blown all his self-imposed barriers out of the water.

  “What do you think you’re doing anyway?” Lexi’s demand snapped him from his trip down memory lane. “Because if you think accompanying me home in a cab will make me change my mind about that refund, you’re way off base.”

  She sat ramrod straight, her fingers clutched tightly around her purse as she stared at him. There was something in the eyes, James thought. Something that dared him to challenge her, argue with her. Everything she’d said and done since she’d opened the door to him earlier that evening, had annihilated any remnant of hope he still harbored of seeing her as that innocent impressionable young kid. She was now a fully-fledged woman intent on getting what she wanted.

  His perception of her as an innocent, as someone who deserved a whole lot better than he could offer, had enabled him to keep his dick in his pants around her. While he still believed she deserved better, who was he to argue with a grown woman asserting her sexual needs and desires?

  But something niggled, and, mindful of the teenage crush she’d had on him, he needed to make sure this wasn’t anything more to her than a straight-out sexual adventure. “Why, Lexi?”

  “Why what?”

  “Me. This.”

  She glanced toward the driver, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  The flush across her cheekbones said it did, but he wasn’t about to probe further about why she had hired him for sex when they had an audience.

  He remained silent until they pulled up outside her apartment building. He paid the driver, stepped out with her, and waited as the cab drove away.

  Her chin rose several inches. “Are you planning to walk back to your place?”

  Why did he find that haughty manner so freaking sexy? “I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.”

  Her eyes grew wide, then narrowed. “I’ve changed my mind about the whole thing. I no longer think you’re worth the bother.”

  Shit. That hurt. Another direct hit too close to home. “You bought and paid for me,” he said firmly. “And you accused me of being unprofessional. It struck a chord.”

  She seemed deflated, but covered it fast. “Right. So now you’re willing to come up and have sex with me to show me how professional you are?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You arrogant prick.” She turned sharply, digging in her bag as she hurried up the half dozen steps to her apartment building door.

  He was behind her when she stabbed the key in the lock. “What’s your problem? You hire me for sex, but you get on your high horse when I tell you I’m willing to give it to you?”

  “How very magnanimous of you. Especially after you dumped me to prop up the bar all evening.”

  “You dumped me, if I recall.”

  “Oh, why don’t you just piss off?” She thrust open the door and hurried up the steps to her first-floor apartment. “Like I said, I’ve changed my mind.”

  She didn’t seem in the least surprised that he followed her up
the stairs. But he was. What the fuck was he doing? She’d changed her mind. He’d been given an out. Why in hell didn’t he just take it?

  She stepped inside her apartment, and had the chain on quicker than he could track.

  He put his palm on the door to stop her closing it. “I don’t mean to upset you, Lexi.”

  “You’ve irritated me,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m not upset. Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Let me in. Let’s talk.”

  Why in hell didn’t he just hightail it out of there? He was heading into murky waters, and wasn’t sure he would be able to navigate back if he needed to.

  For a few seconds she hesitated, her gaze flicking this way and that. Then she gave him that challenging stare, and unhooked the chain.

  Inside, James again questioned what the fuck he was doing. But it was too late. He was up to his ankles in murk.

  She closed the door and leaned back against it. “Talk then.”

  He took a breath. “We’ve got history. It’s never a good idea to mix things up when you’ve got history. It blurs every freaking line.”

  She folded her arms. “We don’t have history. You never so much as noticed I existed until the night I turned eighteen. Then, drunk, you tried to get in my pants. Decided it was a bad idea, probably because you couldn’t get it up due to the alcohol consumption, and promptly dumped me. In front of all my friends.”

  He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Shit, Lexi. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Really? You shoved me out of my own bedroom, minus the bra you’d managed to get me out of, and with my panties all but around my knees. Standing half-naked in front of everyone was pretty bad in my book.”

  Having her outline events like that made him squirm. “I was an asshole back then.” He hadn’t realized how much of one until she’d spelled out so clearly just what he’d done. “I never apologized. I’d like to do that now.”

  She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you’re going to do more than apologize.”

  “Lexi…”

  “You asked to come in. You’re in. I take it that means you’re on board. So now you’re going to finish what you started that night. You’re going to fuck me.”

  “Lexi, I’m…”

  “Bought and paid for, to use your terms.” She shrugged out of her coat and let it drop to the floor. He thought he glimpsed a hint of hurt in her eyes, but it was quickly doused and replaced by a feline gleam. She placed a hand on his chest and slid her finger inside his shirt. “Since I’ve never done this before, I’ll allow you to start off the proceedings. How does it usually work?”

  Heat was slowly strumming through his system, but her question shot everything inside him into full out panic mode. “You’ve never done this before?”

  She slipped a button on his shirt, slid her hand inside. “I’ve had sex before,” she said, irritated. “What I meant was I’ve never hired an escort. Until tonight. How does it work?”

  “Pretty much the same way as … normal.”

  She slipped another button, her other hand loosening the knot in his tie. “You asked me why,” she reminded him. “You asked, why you?”

  He struggled to recall asking any kind of question. But it slowly slipped through his frenzied brain. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Because you were my fantasy. You were pretty much the fantasy of all my friends. The bad boy who couldn’t be tamed.”

  “What?” He thought about stopping her when she started to undo yet another button, but her small hand felt so damned amazing sliding over his chest that he couldn’t quite bring himself to call a halt.

  “They thought you were hot. We all did. I still do. That’s why I hired you, to live out my fantasy.”

  “Give me a break.”

  She smiled. “It’s true.” She’d made light work of all his buttons and started tugging the open shirt from the waistband of his trousers. “I wouldn’t be able to die a happy woman until I’ve put that fantasy to bed, so to speak. I really want to know what it’s like to have you inside me.”

  She was shitting the hell out of him, but since her fingers were toying with the zipper of his pants, he didn’t have the strength to call her out on it. If she wanted to play games, live out her so-called fantasies, who was he to deny her? She was a consenting adult, after all. And he was in the fantasy game.

  Except he had the distinct impression all was not as it seemed on the surface. She was playing him. Like a freaking fiddle.

  He clamped his hand over hers, staying her sexual explorations. “What’s this really all about, Lexi? You planning on giving me a taste of my own medicine? Getting me all heated up and then throwing me out on my ear?”

  She nudged his hand away. “Please. Do you think I’m that petty?”

  “I think you’re playing games.”

  “Like you did? That night?”

  Again, that flash of hurt. “That wasn’t how it was.”

  “You weren’t interested in me,” she said so softly he almost missed it. “I get that.”

  He’d been interested, but he’d been scared shitless. Of her. Of his attraction to her. But she’d been guileless, untouched. He wasn’t worthy of being the one to change that.

  “I wasn’t interested in getting done over by your brothers.” He improvised, although it was partially the truth. “They’d have chopped me into pieces and used me on the end of a fishing line. Thank God I came to my senses before anything happened.”

  “Something did happen. You put your hand down my panties.” She grabbed his hand before he could yank it back, and brought it inches away from her crotch. “Tonight, you’re going to do much more than that.”

  He knew he should stop this right now, but she’d started the memories flowing and gotten him all heated up. He remembered the soft, wet feel of her against his hand. Her distinct scent. The sexy little moans as she’d leaned into him and told him to push his finger in deeper.

  Shit. He needed to regain control of this whole scenario.

  “I’m a professional,” he felt compelled to point out. “You need to know it means nothing but one night of sex, sex that you’ve paid for.”

  She let go of his hand and brought her body against his. “I’m not an idiot.” She sashayed against him, so lightly his breath stopped. “Besides, what makes you think I want anything more? I’ve bought your services for a specific experience. Sort of like paying to go on a fairground ride. When the ride comes to an end, it’s finished. The experience is over. Life goes on.”

  He was barely able to reconcile the young, naïve girl she’d been with the woman who indeed seemed to have all the answers.

  She wriggled against him, a little more lustily this time. “So, are we going to start the ride, James?”

  Unable to deny, or resist, the heat that stormed through him, he wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and set her a little away from him. “Ground rules first.”

  Her pretty brow creased. “Ground rules?”

  As the scent of her invaded his nostrils, he knew those rules would be for him as much as her. Shit. Was he really going to do this? “The client gets to call the shots,” he said going into his regular spiel for the more uninitiated client. “We only do what you want. If there’s something you don’t want you shout out, okay?”

  She nodded. “What about if there’s something I want, but you don’t want to do it?”

  It took him unawares, and he almost laughed. He doubted there was a damn thing he hadn’t done at one time or another. Some of his clients were pretty wild. Some of them were pretty twisted. He did what he always did while he worked. He shut himself down, tuned himself out. Sex was a physical act. Period.

  And it paid the rent.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?”

  For the first time since she’d opened the door to him that evening, she looked unsure. “I thought we’d just … do it.”

  “That goes without saying.” He felt a little b
etter having her on the back foot. It kept things simple. Easy. Uncomplicated. He was used to calling the shots. Being in control. Even when some of those wilder clients wanted to mix things up, push boundaries, he always remained in control of the situation.

  He hated to admit that with Lexi he’d been feeling anything but.

  Until now.

  So he’d milk it for all it was worth.

  He ran his fingers lightly down her arms, felt her shiver beneath his touch. “Why don’t we start with you getting us both a nightcap?”

  “Okay. Yes. I can do that.”

  She hurried off, leaving him again to question what the fuck he was doing. Beneath those sexy looks she’d aimed his way, and the flaunting of her delicious little body, he feared she didn’t really know what she was getting into. She was way, way out of her depth.

  Deep in doubt, he strolled to the sofa and shrugged out of his jacket. He started doing up the buttons of his shirt that she’d so adeptly unfastened, but stopped. She was making him question himself. She was making him question her. She was making him question sex—the one place he’d always been supremely confident, powerful, and in control.

  At first, she’d been hitting on him. Then she’d backed off. Then she’d basically told him to get lost. Then she’d come on to him again, virtually undressed him. Now she’d gone all coy and…

  The thought hit him like an express train. Was it all an act? Was she still that innocent? She’d actually admitted to not having time for boyfriends, so it wasn’t entirely off the page.

  She chose that moment to come back with two glasses. “I got us brandy. That’s traditional nightcap fodder, isn’t it?”

  Her question further solidified his rampant musings. If she wasn’t used to the drinks-before-sex equation, what else wasn’t she used to?

  He stood, took both drinks from her and placed them on the small coffee table beside the sofa. “Let’s sit a minute, Lexi.”

  “You look really serious,” she said when she sat next to him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to start harping on about this being a bad idea again.”

  He watched her closely, looking for any telltale sign that he might be right about her lack of experience. “That depends.”