Wicked Pleasures (13 page)

He watched Chase lick at Jaci's perfect red nipples before moving down her body, sipping at her flesh, causing her to jerk, to tremble with pleasure.

Yet her eyes stayed on Cam. What did she see, he wondered, when she stared at him like that? And did he want to know?

She had to watch his eyes. They were wild and fierce, and only when he touched her and only when his passion raged out of control did she see what she needed to see.

That Cam belonged to her. In his eyes, she saw it. When he watched her and touched her, she felt it. She could feel Cam. She always had. She could stare into his eyes and see the bleak pain, the regret, the hunger and a man fighting to hold onto whatever secrets he hid. And it all touched her. She saw the shadows in his eyes brewing, saw the need growing.

He hid from her, until these times. Until she let herself fly beneath his touch and the pleasure he wanted to give her, needed to give her, for whatever reason.

She watched as she arched her hips to Chase's mouth, feeling his lips, his tongue, bury between her thighs, and responded with a growl of lust.

Cam's eyes flared as his gaze flickered to the sight, his fingers stroking his bare cock.

Kneeling beside her, he touched her face, her lips, his fingertips a gentle, tender caress.

"Feel good?"

"No." She panted, shaking her head. "It's killing me."

Killing her with pleasure. She felt like a flame inside, a twisting, desperate wildfire with no hope of being extinguished.

He smiled with a hard, tight curl of his lips as he fought to hold back. She didn't want him holding back. Pushing at his chest she drove him back and leaned forward, suddenly swiping her tongue over his cock head.

Touching him was imperative. She stared up at him while she took the engorged crest into her mouth and lost herself in him. When the pleasure burned this hot, this bright, she didn't know whose hands were doing what, just the sensations tearing through her.

She felt fingers stroking inside her pussy, pressing into her rear. Always gentle, easing inside her, preparing her and stretching her. Each penetration into her ass was another layer of lubrication, making her slick, making her want, ache.

She transferred the ache, that need to Cam. She wrapped her mouth around the crest of his cock, drew it deep inside her mouth and sucked with greedy abandon. Drawing on the stiff flesh, hearing his moans, seeing the wildness intensify in his eyes.

"I can't wait any longer." His voice was ragged with desperation as he pulled back, ignoring her protesting cry.

Then Chase was pulling back. Deserting her. Freeing her from the wicked touch of his lips and tongue around her swollen clit.

She couldn't face the desertion. She
needed
—now. She needed to feel Cam, needed the wicked, wild desperation that filled each touch he gave her.

Then he was touching her, pulling her to him, as he stretched out on the couch and dragged her over him. A second later, she was filled with him.

Keeping her eyes open was nearly impossible. Holding his gaze, seeing the bleak pain, the need that never seemed to die, tore her apart, as the pleasure he gave her threatened to explode through her.

Buried full-length inside her, he held her still. Hard hands on her hips, holding her to him, as Chase pressed her down to Cam's chest, forcing her to break eye contact.

"Talk to me." She moaned, needing a connection to him, a center, as pleasure tore through her and whipped through her mind.

"Tell you how sexy you are? How much you please me?" He groaned, as Chase moved in behind her.

She whimpered at the feel of the wide crest of his cock tucking against her.

"It's going to burn," he whispered. "But you like the burn, don't you, baby?"

She liked the burn; she loved it. She trembled as she felt it building, felt Chase working his erection slowly inside her, burning her, as Cam filled the clenching depths of her pussy.

She was burning inside. Burning outside.

"I love hearing those cries." Cam held her head to his shoulder with one hand, as Chase's hands gripped her hips now. "Feeling your body tighten and grow hotter. It's like a drug, Jaci. I can't get enough of it."

She was almost screaming now. The intensity of the sensation tearing through her was killing her. How was she supposed to survive this?

Heat flared along every nerve ending Chase abraded and those that tightened around Cam's erection. With every inch that fed into her body, she went wilder.

Cam's voice at her ear grew rougher.

"So tight . . . sweet . . . ah, Jaci, that's my baby. Take all of it."

And then he got naughty. "Chase looks like he's dying for you," he whispered in her ear. "You're so tight, Jaci, so hot, it burns us, too." He moaned and the flesh inside her pussy trembled as Chase went deeper. "Fuck, yeah, grip me like that, baby."

Jaci screamed and the male cries joined her as Chase surged inside her, his hands tightening on her hips, taking her fully as she began to shudder, to jerk with the ecstasy, the agony.

"Damn you. Stay still." Chase's hand landed on her ass, but the slight burn wasn't enough. She needed it all. Cam was whispering in her ear, broken phrases, emotion filling his voice. The higher her pleasure went, the more she felt him, inside her soul. She ground herself on Cam's cock, then pushed back against Chase and cried out as his hand landed on her ass again and again, and the pleasure tore through her.

And it tore through them. They were thrusting inside her now, hard and deep, ragged curses tearing from Chase's lips.

"I love you, Jaci." Cam's voice was rich with despair, with pleasure, with pain. "God, yes. Fuck me. Take me sweetheart. All of me."

All of him. She exploded around him, gripping him, dissolving, her teeth biting into the hard muscle of his chest as she felt him jerk, crying out her name before the hard spurts of semen blasted into her and pushed her further into the dizzying vortex.

Pleasure, pain, ecstasy, and agony; and Cam whispering, always whispering.

"God, yes, love me, sweetheart. Love me."

Behind her, Chase jerked and shuddered. His sheathed cock throbbed inside her as he drove deep, stilled, and pumped his release into the condom he wore.

Jaci collapsed beneath them, her breathing ragged, her mind mush while her body continued to jerk, tiny aftershocks of pleasure still pumping through her.

She was barely aware of Chase moving. Cam didn't move. He stayed beneath her, his arms locked tight around her, his head buried against her neck, as he held her.

She needed him to hold her. Right now. This time, he couldn't let her go. If he let her go too soon, she would shatter. And if she shattered, God help her heart.

Chase cleaned up in the attached bathroom, and dressed before bracing his hands on the sink and lowering his head, gazing unseeingly into the sink.

He could still feel it. Whatever "that" was that had compelled him to find Cam. He couldn't figure it out. The echoes of the twin bond they had formed from the womb reverberated inside him—the bond that had been broken around their fifteenth birthday.

He still didn't know what had nearly broken his brother back then. Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would. But if what he felt now was any indication, God help him, he would have torn apart whoever caused it.

The bleak, dark pain that throbbed inside his mind didn't have a reason. It was Cam's pain; he had known it the instant he had felt it swirling through him. Like the nightmares they had had a habit of sharing as boys. It was like that. They wouldn't know the nightmare, just the fear. That was their bond. They always knew when the other was in danger, when the other feared. And Cam's fear now was like a dark, razor-sharp dagger tearing at his soul.

Jaci wasn't the cause, but she and whatever it was that Cam felt for her was the catalyst. Whatever emotions he fought to keep inside himself, she was drawing free.

But he feared what that would do to her now.

Shaking his head, he moved back into the other room, leaning against the wall as he watched his brother whisper to her.

Jaci was smiling now. A soft little smile, her eyes closed, as Cam sat naked on the couch, stroking her back.

"Better get her dressed. Courtney is waiting on her," Chase announced. "She's wanting to talk about that party she's wrangled us all into."

"No parties." Jaci covered a yawn before glancing over her shoulder at him.

Cam kissed the top of her head as Chase tossed him a damp cloth, then a dry towel.

The fact that her entire body flushed with embarrassment as Cam cleaned her wasn't commented on. The fact that she allowed it was a testament to the fact that, like Chase, she had an instinct about Cam. He needed to do that for her. Just as he needed to help her dress before he dressed himself.

"Invitations have already gone out," Cam told her as he drew his jeans over his legs and let Jaci fuss with her hair. "The Brockheim Ball is important to Courtney. She wants you there."

"Too bad." Jaci frowned at the announcement. "I know the Brockheims. Their events are too damned rich for my bank account to afford the dresses. I'll work on the house plans."

"Taken care of."

She turned to Cam as he drew his shirt on, buttoned it, and tucked it back into his jeans.

"Excuse me?" she asked him, holding onto her temper now.

This wasn't fair. First they drove her crazy, taking her in the middle of the day, and now they were driving her crazy another way. The Falladay twins were going to cause her to lose hair.

"The dress is being delivered to your room. You'll be the belle of the ball. And you're going."

"Not on your life." She stood toe-to-toe with Cam, trying to ignore Chase's amusement.

Cam's brow lifted, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He was loving her anger, and that just pissed her off more.

"You can walk into the ball or I can carry you in." He shrugged. "Your choice."

"I really don't like you," she ground out, knowing it wasn't true, just as she knew it made no sense whatsoever for her to attend that damned ball.

He grinned back at her. "No, you just don't want me to kill Richard Roberts when he strikes out at you at that party." He tilted his head, and his eyes grew hard. "He's going to learn, Jaci, no matter where, he doesn't touch what belongs to me, either physically or verbally. You can't stop that."

Her lips parted as she fought to pull in air.

"I can take care of the Robertses. I don't need you fighting this battle."

"Then you should have taken care of them before now," he told her firmly. "Now it is my battle."

"By what right?" She felt like screaming. She would have screamed, if her voice wasn't already hoarse from her earlier screaming.

"By the fact that you're mine." He didn't yell, his voice wasn't cold. A simple statement, as he touched her face gently with calloused fingertips. "All mine."

"And you think that's reason enough to order me to this damned party?"

"No. To tell you. You're going to this damned party with me. After that ball, no one will doubt who stands in front of you. Not the Robertses, or anyone else."

Her eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that." She turned and strode to the door, jerked a few times on the knob, then turned back to him furiously.

She caught the glare he shot his brother, as Chase hit the electronic control and unlocked the door.

She snarled at both of them, then yanked the door open and stalked through the house to where she suspected Courtney would be. And of course, Cam was following her. That only irked her further.

The solarium was a small breakfast room set to the side of the dining room. Sunlight streamed through the glass-enclosed room, gilding Courtney in warmth and light. Jaci had to smile. That was Courtney. She made an impression no matter where she was.

She was with her husband, laughing up at him, in the corner of the room. Her expression was filled with love, with teasing, sensual knowledge, while Ian's was dark with desire.

Jaci came to a full stop, ducking her head as the knowledge that Ian was a part of that club slid through her mind again. That he obviously shared his wife with other men. That he was there—he watched, and he allowed her to be touched by another man.

Jaci was suddenly more confused than she ever had been, because she knew Courtney, she knew the other woman's possessive tendencies. Courtney did not share well. How in the hell had Ian convinced her that it was okay for him to share another man's woman?

"There you are." Flavored with her native Spanish, Courtney's voice was smooth, exotic. "I swear, if you don't stop wearing those business suits, I'm going to scream, Jaci. Wear jeans for a change." She laughed, then paused as she surveyed Jaci's expression. "I gather Cam has informed you of the party tonight?"

Jaci's chin snapped up, Courtney's words ignored, as another thought hit her mind. Had Cam been in Courtney's bed? Had Ian shared the other woman with Cam and Chase? She had to suddenly force her anger back, because Courtney knew, she had known Cam's name for years, knew what he meant to Jaci. Surely, she wouldn't have thought it was okay to take him into her bed with her husband.

She couldn't handle this. She could feel her heart racing, feel the perspiration gathering along her back and the sudden force of the anger building inside her, as she stared back at Courtney.

Then Jaci glared back at her. She felt like declaring ownership, or something, just as Cam had.

She had no right to care. But she did. And the thought that Courtney would touch Cam for any reason, at any time, in a sexual nature, had her seeing red.

"Ian, Cam, I think Jaci and I will retire to the suite for a while. A few drinks and a little girl talk, you know?" She moved from her husband, her long hair rippling around her, snug jeans and a silk T-shirt hugging her body.

Courtney was beautiful, sexy, alluring, and she knew it. She held her husband in the palm of her hand, if the look on his face was any indication. Had she held Cam as easily?

Jaci turned and looked up at him, seeing only amusement, fondness—but none of the heated lust she saw in his gaze when he looked at her. When he looked at her, there was concern, a hint of male confusion. Men were always confused when they didn't get their way.

"Come along, my friend." Courtney patted her shoulder as she turned back to her. "I have wine and sweets. They go great together."

"They go straight to our hips," Jaci muttered, as she pulled away from Cam and shot him a hard look. She had better not learn he had slept with Courtney.

He smiled in return, a male acknowledgment of her ire, but with a total lack of concern.

She was definitely going to stop liking him.

Cam turned and watched as Jaci and Courtney left the room. He waited until they disappeared from sight before wincing, or allowing a measure of worry to show in his expression.

Ian was watching the door thoughtfully.

"Tell me, Cam, did you explain any of the concepts of the club to our lovely designer?" he asked with the air of a man who already knew the answer.

"I kept it simple." Perhaps too simple, because it was evident by the look on her face that Jaci was suspicious that maybe Cam had shared Courtney and Ian's bed as well.

Ian shook his head. "You know Courtney's going to tell her everything."

"Better Courtney than me." He grunted. "Have you ever tried to explain anything to a woman that she just wasn't willing to accept?"

Cam had a feeling that Jaci wouldn't completely understand the concepts of the club. It wasn't what she expected, and it sure as hell wasn't what she wanted to believe.

Ian laughed at his question. "Only every time I try to explain to Courtney why she isn't allowed to enter the club. Let's hope her friend isn't nearly so stubborn." Ian clapped him on the shoulder as he moved through the doorway. "Come into the office, there's a few things I need you to look over."

They moved from the solarium dining room before heading up the hall to Ian's office. The offices were located farther along the residential wing, making them less accessible to guests or members—especially nosy members, such as Richard Roberts.

Congressman Roberts was a thorn in Ian's side, and that was becoming more irritating over the past year. His wife had caught wind of the past gossip of the so-called "Trojans" club and had expended a great deal of effort in attempting to locate the club and the members. Evidently, she considered it her civic duty to reveal such depravity.

So far, any suspicion toward Ian and the little-known Sinclair club had been diverted, but several times Ian's security had caught the congressman attempting to slip into the area with one excuse or another. Just as Annalee Roberts had attempted to subtly question Courtney and several other wives of suspected members. Thankfully, the gossip that had bloomed several years before had been downplayed and eventually drowned out. The wife of the member who had revealed the knowledge of it had learned exactly what she stood to lose, and rather than risking her place in society, she had simply divorced her husband.

Once Cam and Chase had completed the investigation into the incident, the person's membership in the club had been revoked and his yearly security deposit forfeited. He was lucky he still had his job and his good name. The man had been a bastard.

"Roberts is making waves again," Ian announced, as he closed the office door behind them. "Several club members have contacted me this morning with the information that he's attempting to have Ms. Wright ostracized from the parties Courtney's had her invited to. Are you any closer to finding out what the hell is going on there?"

Irritation echoed in Ian's voice, glittered in his eyes.

Cam grimaced at the question. "She's not talking, but I warned you she wouldn't. No one else is talking, either. Evidently, she's chosen her friends very wisely, or, as I suspect, she's not told anyone what happened."

"Why? Her silence indicates guilt, Cam. She has an excellent reputation from that job on, but the rumor of attempted theft and an adulterous affair is making a few members rather nervous."

Cam shrugged. "They signed off on the project as well as the designer. They aren't allowed to bitch. They had all the information, innuendoes, and accusations at that time. Getting nervous now isn't acceptable."

Ian arched his brow. "We're talking about the same members here, right? Just because they signed off on it doesn't mean they aren't going to bitch. Some of those men worry worse than women."

Cam's lips quirked at the accusation.

"Has Roberts managed to have any of the invitations canceled?" Cam asked.

"Not yet." Ian moved across the room, his leanly muscled body tense with irritation. He moved behind his desk and threw himself into the expensive leather chair behind it, glowering back at Cam. "Roberts is pissing me off, Cam. I want to know why Ms. Wright has been targeted, so we can make moves to defend her position. Courtney's worried, and when she's worried she doesn't sleep well."

Which meant Ian didn't sleep well. Cam restrained his smile.

"I'm working on it, Ian. Getting information without her help isn't easy, though. The congressman and his wife protect their own privacy just as rigorously. So far, all we have are a few innuendoes of dirty games, but no definite reports."

Ian slouched back thoughtfully, an elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he scratched at his cheek.

"What kind of dirty games?"

Cam shook his head. "We're working on it, Ian."

They needed that information. Congressman Roberts had targeted Ian nearly a year before, when his application into the Sinclair men's club had been rejected.

The club was known in a very small circle of men. It wasn't hidden, they didn't try for complete secrecy of anything except the reason for it. Which meant there were a lot of applications rejected for one reason or the other. And a lot of resentment.