Renegade Alpha (ALPHA 5) (10 page)

Lijah’s body slid slowly down hers before he pushed her sweater up, exposing her breasts, his breath cool against the heat of her bared nipple before she felt his lips close over her completely and he sucked that nipple deep into the heat of his mouth.

Oh dear God!

The pleasure was overwhelming as Callie felt the rasp of his tongue and then the sting of his teeth on her fully aroused nipple, shifting restlessly as she felt the folds between her thighs swelling and becoming slick with her juices.

And still Lijah held her arms captive above her head, when she longed to bury her hands in the thickness of his hair, hold him to her, and silently plead with him to suck deeper, bite harder.

It was as if Lijah heard her as he did exactly that, his hand now moving to the fastening of her jeans, unfastening the button and sliding the zip down so that his hand could move inside and beneath the lace of her panties, parting the dampness of her curls to seek out the erect nubbin that pulsed and throbbed as he began to stroke her.

Not rhythmically, but fast and then slow, soft and then hard, never quite allowing Callie to arch her hips into meeting that rhythm, to seek out and find the release she now craved.

“Lijah, please!” She groaned her frustration with those tormenting strokes.

His mouth abandoned her nipple with a moist pop, and he released her hands. He slid down her body before moving up onto his knees to slip off her shoes before pulling her jeans and panties down her thighs to remove them completely. He lay down between her parted thighs, his lips and tongue taking over that remorseless stroking and biting.

His hands on her thighs held her legs apart, his tongue licking round and above her clitoris and then dipping lower, lapping up her juices before thrusting past the lips of her channel and piercing deep.

“Yes.” Callie gasped when she was at last able to entangle her hands in that dark and silky hair, her knees bending and she placed her feet flat on the bed to part her legs even wider in shameless invitation.

She wanted more, needed release, ached and throbbed with that need—

“Do you want me, Callie?” Lijah breathed the question against her wet, vibrating flesh.

“God, yes!”

“How much do you want me?” His tongue stroked mercilessly around her clitoris, never quite touching that sensitive nubbin and giving her the release she so desperately needed.

It was torture.

Absolute torture.

“Lijah—”

“How much?” He thrust two fingers inside her at the same time as his tongue continued the merciless rasp that almost but not quite touched the small bundle of nerves throbbing and pulsing in need. “Tell me how much!” he breathed against her hotly, continuing those long, slow thrusts.

“Oh God, just do it, Lijah! Please—”

“Tell me how much you want me inside you right now,” he repeated hoarsely, his fingers seeking out and finding that corresponding bunch of nerve endings inside her, stroking harder and harder as her juices flowed copiously over his fingers and he kept her balanced on that knife edge of release.

“Please,” she all but sobbed, feeling as if she was going out of her mind in her search for the elusive pleasure he denied her. “I want to come now.” She half sat up to lean back on her elbows, looking down at the shadowed figure between her legs. “Desperately,” she pleaded as the only sound in the room was her own heavy breathing and the thrusting of Lijah’s fingers deep inside her dripping wet and open channel. “I want to come so badly, Lij—Lijah?” she prompted sharply as those fingers were abruptly removed and the shadow that was Lijah moved down the bed and then up, now standing at the bottom of the bed. Presumably looking down at her splayed body.

“Punishment over,” he bit out coldly.

It took several seconds for Callie’s passion-drugged brain to take in what he had said, only for a red haze to then wash over her as she realized exactly what he had just done. Aroused her. Pleasured her to the point of desperation. And then stopped.

Deliberately.

Coldly.

As punishment for disobeying him.

Chapter 7

“You bastard!” Callie burst out vehemently, hating, loathing Lijah in that moment as she quickly straightened her bra before pulling down her sweater.

Punishment?

Lijah hadn’t punished her, he had deliberately humiliated her.

Ruthlessly, calculatedly, and all because she had disobeyed him.

Not that he hadn’t been aroused himself. The heavy length of his cock was evidence of that. But not so aroused he couldn’t pull back and step away the moment he had her begging and pleading for release.

“Bastard!” she said again with just as much feeling as she swung her legs to the floor to gather up her panties and jeans, before standing up and running into the adjoining bathroom.

“Don’t put on the light,” Lijah called after her sharply.

“Go to hell!” Callie slammed and locked the bathroom door behind her before leaning back against it and then slowly sliding to the tiled floor, tears of humiliation falling hotly down her cheeks as she relived each and every humiliating moment of that deliberate seduction and arousal.

Bastard
.

Lijah drew in a shaky breath as he ran a frustrated hand through the tousled thickness of his hair and continued to stare at the closed bathroom door.

Hair that was tousled because Callie’s fingers had been entangled in it just seconds ago.

God, he could still taste her on his lips and tongue. Sweet and yet spicy, and so fucking delicious. An addictive taste that he already wanted more of.

Her nipple had felt so plump and succulent in his mouth, and the swollen nubbin between her thighs so responsive as it throbbed and pulsed against his stroking fingers and tongue.

He’d wanted to ensure Callie never forgot to obey a direct order from him ever again. But not, as she seemed to think, out of vindictiveness or that punishment he had spoken of, but because her obedience could mean the difference between life and death. Her life or death.

Whoever had stolen the Felix Griffith’s jewelry collection had been organized and well-informed as to Hammond’s movements and the security at the gallery that night. They had known exactly how and when the best time was to steal the collection. And they had succeeded. Killing Michael Hammond in the process.

Lijah had brought Callie with him to Washington because he did truly believe the safest place for her right now was beside him. But that didn’t mean her presence in Washington didn’t present a different security risk.

Peter Morgan had come to Washington for a reason. And the only reason Lijah could think of for that had to be because the older man had tracked Hammond’s murderer here. The fact that Peter himself now seemed to have disappeared could mean that Callie was now also compromised. The murderer might now know Callie was Peter’s daughter and also the woman from the gallery the night Hammond had been murdered.

If Lijah was going to get Callie safely through this mess, then she had to learn to do exactly what he told her to do. When he told her to do it. No questions asked. No argument given. She just needed to do it.

Jesus, his blood had run cold when he came back out of the house a short time ago and saw Callie standing out in the open beside the car, with his .44 Magnum in her hand.

What the hell she thought she was doing, he had no idea. All he had known was that he had to ensure she never did anything so stupid and reckless ever again.

That she never put her own life at risk like that again.

If she hated him in the process, then it was a small price to pay for keeping her alive.

Wasn’t it?

It had to be. He couldn’t— This wasn’t the right time—

His actions just now had probably ensured there would never be a “right time” for him and Callie now.

And I ache from wanting her. Fucking ache in every muscle, sinew, and pore of my body.

Lijah dropped to sit on the side of the bed, glad of the surrounding darkness. It matched the bleakness presently devouring him from the inside out.

Any other time, in any other situation, he would be inside Callie right now, his cock buried to the hilt as he thrust into her time and time again. And he would have stayed inside her too, even after spending, would have taken her time and time again throughout the night in an effort to assuage this deep-rooted desire he now felt to possess every part of her.

He now ran his tongue across his lips for the sheer pleasure of torturing himself with the taste of her. Fuck, she tasted so good, had been so aroused, so wet and open, so
ready for him.

He gave a pained groan as he adjusted the bulge of his cock as it throbbed painfully inside his jeans. So long and thick. So hot. So damned
full
,
his balls ached to bursting with his need to come.

Guess his right hand was going to be working overtime again tonight.

And all the time it did, Callie would be just feet away, making any release he gave himself as hollow as hell, when he would much rather come inside Callie.

Lijah gave another groan as he buried his face in both his hands. He had intended to punish Callie, and instead he was the one who was going to be left in a state of unsatisfied agony all night.

No doubt Callie would label that deserved retribution.

Bastard.

Bastard, bastard,
bastard
.

Callie had lost count of the amount of times she had called Lijah that during the past two hours as she lay awake in one of the two guest bedrooms at her aunt and uncle’s house. Lijah occupied the second one.

He was gone from this bedroom by the time Callie emerged from the bathroom, face scrubbed of all evidence of her humiliated tears.

While she had been gone, Lijah had found and lit a small night-light candle and placed it on the bedside table, allowing her to see her bag was also sitting on top of the bed. Obviously, he had been out to the car to collect it and no doubt his own bag too.

She presumed, as the door across the hallway was firmly closed, that he must have moved into that bedroom. She’d also heard the shower in the en-suite bathroom in there being used an hour or so ago.

He needn’t have bothered with that closed door on her account. Callie had no intentions of going anywhere near him again tonight. Ever again, if she could help it. Which, in the circumstances, she obviously couldn’t.

Bastard.

How was she supposed to sleep when she was so angry, she just wanted to hit something, some
one
?

Oh, just admit it, Callie, it isn’t just anger keeping you awake, you’re also frustrated as hell
.

She had no idea what it was about Lijah Smith that attracted her so much there hadn’t been a single thought of denial in her head when he started kissing her. He was rude and bad-tempered. He never smiled—well, just that once earlier, and it had been enough to cause her heart to palpitate.

He also had that stubble back on his jaw by the time they arrived in Washington. Callie liked the cleft in his chin revealed by his shave earlier, but she liked the stubble more.

The same stubble that had added to her arousal earlier as it rasped pleasurably against the flesh between her thighs—

This really wasn’t helping!

She was never going to sleep tonight when she couldn’t stop thinking about bloody Lijah Smith.

Was that even his name?

Lijah had to be short for Elijah, although he had vehemently insisted it was just Lijah when asked. And Smith? Really?

She knew her father applied the policy “don’t ask, don’t tell” in regard to his men in a deeper way than it was intended. He had no interest in a man or woman’s sexual inclinations, but he also respected their privacy too. If he had ever known Lijah Smith by any other name, then he would never reveal that to another living soul.

There was also Lijah’s educated British accent, and the warehouse that looked run-down from the outside but also had a state-of-the-art security system to protect Lijah’s collection of priceless paintings and prints.

The more Callie thought about it, the more she became convinced Lijah Smith wasn’t who he appeared to be.

What was he hiding?

It could be anything. He could be a criminal hiding from his past. Or maybe avoiding an ex-wife and possibly children. After all, Lijah was aged in his mid-thirties—

No, she didn’t believe that was it. He simply wasn’t a man who would ever run away from his responsibilities. Would ever run away from anything.

So he had to be hiding some
thing
rather than from some
one
.

And all this conjecture about Lijah really wasn’t in the least conducive to helping her go to sleep!

Hot tea and toast might help. Lijah had stopped at an all-night store on the way here and picked up some milk, bread, and butter for breakfast in the morning, which he had no doubt brought in from the car along with their bags. As far as Callie’s body clock was concerned, it was morning.

She checked to make sure the bedroom door opposite was still closed before moving quietly out into the hallway and heading for the stairs. The last thing she wanted to face tonight was another encounter with Lijah. It was going to take days, if not weeks, to recover—if she ever did—from her earlier humiliation.