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Wicked Pleasure


“It would help her understand,” Chase said. “You can’t hide from her and expect her to give you everything. Hell, it’s bad enough that you hide from me.”


“Explaining it wouldn’t help.” He clenched his hands, fought to work through the surging fury. “It’s like a drug now. You know it as well as I do. Seeing the pleasure, feeling it.” He shook his head at the hopelessness of it.


“So, you’re going to lose her to the likes of Khalid instead?” Chase drawled. “Smart, Cam.”


“I’ll talk to Khalid.” He breathed in roughly. “He’ll stay away from her.”


He was aware of the disbelief in Chase’s expression. “Are we talking about the same Khalid?” his brother asked. “The same one undressing her with his eyes in the hallway, Cam?”


“Don’t push this, Chase,” he growled.


Chase held his hands up placatingly. “Fine. I’m out of it. Just consider the I-told-you-sos said when you find out he’s moved in for the kill.”


“She’s too smart to fall for him.” Cam shook his head. He had to believe that.


“She’s alone,” Chase said then, his voice soft, warning. “Remember that, Cam. She’s alone and losing the same man for the second time for the same reason. She’s been alone for a very long time now. She’s not going to stay alone.”


No, and she had every right not to have to be alone.


Cam shook his head, fighting his desires, fighting himself. She deserved the love she thought so highly of. Monogamous, possessive, pure love. She didn’t deserve the exact opposite of the ideal that she prized so highly.


“You know, Cam, I’m not in love with her,” Chase said then. “I won’t love her, not like you do.”


Cam rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling a relief so intense it was almost weakness. He could share her body with Chase, but the thought of sharing her emotions, her heart, the tender touches and the smoky looks . . .


“Cam, is it worth losing her?”


He paced across the room, his hand dropping from his neck as he moved to the window and stared into the bright morning sunlight.


Seven years. He’d waited, fantasized. He’d dreamt of her.


“I’ll figure something out.” And he would. Right now, he was allowing them both the distance they needed, but it wouldn’t last much longer.


“Evidently, you warned her to run when she saw either of us coming,” Chase said. “Why do that? Why not show her the man you are, rather than demanding she give into you without understanding what makes you like that? Damn, bro, you expect a lot from a woman, don’t you?”


“From her?” he whispered, watching through the tall windows as Courtney and Jaci moved into the gardens between the two wings of the house. “From her, I expect it all. And I think that terrifies both of us.”


9


Cam found her in the garden an hour later, a frown on her face as she sketched on the electronic pad she used for drawing and notes. She nibbled absently on her lip, and it made his lips tingle at the thought of having her little teeth nip at him.


He stood and watched her for long moments, aware of the growing hunger building inside him. Pretty soon, it wasn’t going to matter if Chase was around or not, he was going to take her every chance he had.


He was burning for her. That addiction thing again. Hell if he knew how to break this addiction, though. He didn’t want to break it.


“Got a minute?”


“Probably.” She tapped a few commands on the pad, and he watched it darken and shut down, then she tucked it into the carrier bag she wore on her shoulder.


“Come up to the office.” He held his hand out to her in invitation. “You can see the equipment we have there, and help me decide which room to try to convince Ian we need for a new office.”


“You need a new office?” Jaci took his hand and let him draw her along the stone path.


“Bigger office, anyway.” He smiled down at her. The hell if he cared if he had another office. He needed some time with her. He needed to smell the scent of her, feel her warmth, and he needed to do it without distractions. The office was his only chance, unless he wanted to slip into her hotel room again.


He wanted her until his back teeth ached with it. But he was finding he wanted more than just the sex with her. He wanted to laugh with her. He wanted to talk with her. He wanted her in his life and in his home, because he was damned if he was satisfied with the arrangement as it was.


She was continually running from him, and he’d had enough of it.


“So Ian doesn’t want you to have a bigger office?” There was a hint of knowing heat in her voice, remnants of her earlier wariness.


“I doubt he really gives a damn.” He felt like smiling. “I just want an excuse to spend some time with you.”


He glanced at her, and saw the almost-shy surprise in her expression as she looked up at him. That look had his cock hardening to the point of pain.


“You didn’t need an excuse.” She cleared her throat as they entered the house, and headed through the back hall toward the offices. “All you had to do was let me know.”


“You keep running, Jaci,” he said softly.


“You told me to run.” Her voice was reflective now. “What’s the point in running, Cam? I never could stay away from you.”


He pulled her into his office, slammed the door behind them, locked it, and pushed her against the wall. His hands framed her face, as though her admission had broken some thread of control holding him back and his lips slammed down on hers.


He drew back at the last second, softened the possession in the kiss, and groaned at the heated welcome of her lips. Wanton. That was what she was. Her tongue met his, and her hands were pulling at his shirt, dragging it out of his jeans to allow her nails to rasp against the mat of hair that grew over his chest.


“You’re killing me,” he groaned against her lips. “I’m dying for you, Jaci.”


His hands were pulling at her skirt. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel the sweet warmth between her thighs, slick and wet, beckoning him.


“You wanted to talk.” She was panting. She was sweet and hot, and he could feel the need in her body, just as clearly as he heard it in her voice.


“I am talking.” He was nipping at her lips, loving the feel of them.


“You are?”


“I’m telling you how hot you are.” His lips slid to her neck and he didn’t even pause to wonder why the hell he was talking. “Telling you how badly I want to spank you.”


“There you go, threats again.” She moaned, a rich, soft sound that had his dick jerking in anticipation.


“A promise.” The thought of spanking her. God, his hand itched to feel the softly rounded globes of her ass beneath his hand as he laid the heavy caresses against her flesh. Watching them blush, feeling her burn.


And she would burn. The pleasure-pain of him and Chase both taking her the other night had driven her crazy for more. Her eyes had been wild for it, her voice aching with the hunger for it. And when he had plunged into the ultra-tight, heated grip of her pussy, he had nearly come with her.


He nipped at her lips again, then stroked them with his tongue, as she lifted herself against him, trying to capture his lips for the kiss he knew they both needed. As he teased the lush curves of her lips he slid his hands over her ass, pushing her skirt higher to reach the delicate globes.


He moaned at the feel of bare skin. She wore a thong, and he knew that that scrap of material did nothing to hide the sight of her silken flesh.


Lifting his head, he breathed in roughly, squeezed her ass, and fought to hold on. He couldn’t take her here, couldn’t take her alone. Not yet. Not until he got a handle on these damned emotions threatening to break free.


Where the fuck was Chase when a person needed him?


“Cam . . .” Jaci’s voice was hungry now, her eyes brightening, growing hot with need. “What are you waiting for?”


She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, managing not to rip them from their moorings, but slipping them from their holes quickly, carefully. Her lips were against his neck, hot, demanding.


There had to be a way—a way to take her alone, to slide into the silken grip of her pussy and find the pleasure that awaited him there.


“Damn, you burn me alive.” He lowered his head and let his tongue taste her collarbone, as he relished the feel of her butt in his hands.


“That’s good.” She moaned. “You burn me, too.”


He clenched his teeth as he fought to hold back now. He was not going to take her against the wall.


“Come here.” Before she could protest, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to the couch across the room.


The office was large, with his and Chase’s work centers separated by a seating and meeting center in the middle. And that was where he took her. With his lips buried against hers, his tongue stroking, licking, twining around hers, he sat back on the couch before lifting his head.


“Come here.” He lifted her until her back was to him, then, with his hand against her back, he pushed her shoulders to the cushions.


“What are you doing?” There was a hint of something in her voice now—uncertainty, and a hesitant fear of the unknown.


“I told you I was going to spank you.” He grinned as she tried to raise from the couch. “Stay still, sweetheart. I promise it will hurt so good.”


“Hurt so good? Are you crazy?” There was a hint of laughter now. He liked that laughter in her voice, that bit of playfulness that indicated her sense of adventure.


But he’d be damned if he could answer her. She was on her knees before him as he knelt behind her, the creamy cheeks of her ass displayed by the bunched material of her dark skirt. And it was a fine ass.


He ran his hand over the curves, grimacing with the need to feel her locked around his cock, milking him, pulling him inside her.


“I didn’t wear a condom last time,” he told her, his voice roughening.


She didn’t stiffen, but she stilled. “I knew that. Good thing I’m protected.” There was the lightest snap in her voice.


“I knew you were protected.” He lowered his head and laid his lips at the small of her back, feeling the little shudder that moved through her. “Medical records were part of the investigation. You use it for menstrual regulation.”


He was taunting her with his knowledge of her. Needing answers.


“Invasion of privacy.” She jerked as he cupped the heated flesh between her thighs with his hand.


She would get pissed later, he guessed, but for now . . . for now, the effect she had on him was the same for her. She needed the pleasure. Ached for it.


“You aren’t concerned about anything but birth control?” He nipped at the rounded cheek of her ass as he massaged the silken folds of her pussy with his palm.


“With you?” She moaned as he found her swollen clit and rubbed it slowly. “God, Cam, don’t you think I know you would never do anything to risk hurting me?”


Now, Cam stilled. His eyes focused on the little scrap of material that bisected her rear, but something in his chest exploded out of control.


Trust. He heard it in her voice, felt it now in her body, just as he had felt it the other night. She trusted him—even now, seven years later—to protect her.


He smoothed his hand over her rear, taking in her position, her rear slightly raised, her head turned to where he could see her profile. Her face was damp with perspiration, her eyes closed, her expression twisted with pleasure, as he continued to rub against the silken vee of her thong.


He lifted his hand and lowered it against her ass. The heavy caress had her jerking, her head attempting to lift.


“Don’t move.” He pressed his hand between her shoulder blades, holding her down, pressing her to the couch.

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