Wicked Pleasures (17 page)

"More," her weak cry was desperate. "Cam. Please."

Pleasure was tearing through her, raking over her nerve endings, drawing her tight. Lips and tongues spread the fire through her, drew her clit tight and hard, and caused her vagina to pulse, to clench with need.

Every muscle was tight, straining. Oh God, she ached, she needed. She was so close, and yet the pleasure she had always dreamed of was so damned far away.

"Oh, yes." It was closer. Closer in the form of the feel of Cam's finger dipping inside her, pressing into the torturous depths of her pussy, stroking and caressing as his tongue licked at her clit, his lips kissed it with gentle pressure.

As he kissed and stroked, she felt another finger easing lower, teasing, stroking, caressing.

"There you go, sweetheart," he crooned, as she twisted beneath him, the feel of his finger inside her, another pressing, stroking against her rear. Preparing her.

It was so good. she had never felt anything like this, never known such pleasure as she felt with Cam. Then he drew her clit into the heat of his mouth, suckled at it firmly, stroked it with his tongue, and sent her screaming into orgasm.

Jaci lifted into the violence of the pleasure, let it consume her, let the intense burning pleasure tear through her with an ecstatic cry.

It rose and rose inside her, built and raced through her in a succession of bone-jarring explosions that had her crying out his name in desperation. And Cam had no mercy. The second the intensity of the pleasure began to ease, the violence of the shudders began to dim, Cam moved over her.

Jaci forced her eyes open, forced herself to focus on his, as she fought to pull oxygen into her lungs.

"There, sweetheart." His expression was tight, savage with lust, while beside her, Chase rolled a condom over the impressive length and thickness of his erection.

"Another of those will kill me," she panted, her hands moving to the hard muscles of Cam's abs, feeling them flex and ripple beneath her touch.

"I'll keep you breathing, darlin'." Cam's voice was rough, grating with need, as he came over her, one elbow bracing his weight, while he used the other hand to guide the head of his cock into place. "Just hold onto me, Jaci. Hold onto me tight."

Her fingers clenched on his shoulders, her legs lifted as he shifted her beneath him, then her lashes fluttered in the most exquisite pleasure yet.

"Look at me, Jaci," he ordered roughly. "Look at me, let me see your eyes."

She forced her lashes to lift, met his gaze, and whimpered at the sensations flooding through her.

The feel of his cock working inside her was ecstasy, pleasure and pain combined, as the delicate muscles stretched to accommodate his length.

She had taken nothing larger than her dependable vibrator, and she hadn't anticipated needing a thicker one than the one she had. But Cam was much larger, harder, and so much hotter.

"So good." Her head tossed against the couch cushions. "So good, Cam."

He slid deeper, stretched her, burned her.

"Later. I'll spank you for making me this crazy later," he swore.

For some reason, she wasn't the least bit frightened of that promise.

"Okay. Fine. Later." She lifted her head, kissed his shoulder. "Later." Then she bit him.

The pleasure was burning, ecstatic. She forgot where Chase was. She didn't care. She had Cam now, and it was incredible. It was brutal and overwhelming. As her teeth sank into his shoulder, she heard his ragged cry and felt his muscles bunch. A second later, he moved. He lifted her, pulling her against his chest as he went to his back, drawing her over him as she felt Chase behind her.

Her eyes locked with his. They always did. She needed this connection with him to accept the connection with Chase. She needed to hold onto him, somewhere deep inside his soul, as she felt Chase preparing her. Felt his fingers opening her, stretching her. She felt the slickness of the lubrication, and torturous minutes later, felt the broad head of his cock pressing against her.

She couldn't scream. She cried out Cam's name, she clenched him tighter, bit him again, and felt the final thrust inside her rear bury the full length of Chase's cock inside her.

There was barely enough time to draw in a ragged breath, before they were moving again. Deep, hard strokes buried them inside her over and over again, stroked nerve endings that had only been revealed by their touch, stroked liquid flames inside her, and sent her exploding into a thousand, a million brilliant pinpoints of light.

She felt Cam jerk, shudder, felt his release inside her. She heard him growl her name at her ear, felt his lips, his rough kisses at her shoulder, as Chase jerked and shuddered, his cock throbbing inside her.

Cam possessed her, heart and soul. There was pleasure in the touch of both brothers, but in Cam's touch—in his hands, in his kisses—there was so much more than pleasure. And instinctively she knew, for him it was so much more than just the pleasure of sharing her. For now, it was more than just a need. It was a defense.

In a whisper of insight, she knew that part of Cam, the part he kept so closely guarded, saw this as a defense. If he shared her, if he let his brother have her as well, then in a way, he was holding a part of himself safe. There was no chance of releasing whatever he held so tightly bound. And in that moment, she swore that one day she would find out what he hid, and she would break into that heart. Because he owned her, and by God, she deserved to own him as well.

"Don't leave me, Cam," she whispered. "Not this time."

As soon as he could get his breath back, damn, as soon as he could find his brain rattling around in his head, Cam managed to ease Jaci into Chase's embrace so they could get her into the bedroom.

She whimpered in protest as his cock pulled free of her body, her fingers tightened at his shoulders then slipped and lay against Chase's arms, as Cam rose slowly to his feet and then lifted her from his brother.

"Don't leave her, Cam," Chase ordered. "Don't do that."

She cuddled against him, trusting, exhausted, as a bitter smile pulled at his lips and he carried her to the bedroom.

Pulling the blankets back, he laid her on the bed before carefully removing her stockings and covering her up. He stood there, refusing to crawl into that big bed with her to let her curl against him. It was a risk he couldn't take. Not now, not yet. He heard the door close in the front room as Chase left. He fought it. He had to.

Reaching down, he brushed the hair from her cheek, then whispered a kiss over her brow, before straightening and staring at that big bed once again. He wanted to stay until it ached inside him. But the fear of those emotions slashed too deep.

Shaking his head, he left the room, extinguishing the lights behind him and once again entering the sitting room. Long minutes later, dressed and ready to leave, he sat down on the couch, penned a short note, then collected his jacket and left the hotel room. Hating it, hating himself for his inability to give in to that need.

As he drove away from the hotel he felt the guilt that tugged at his chest, and calculated the risk he had taken in walking away from her. Women liked to be cuddled by their lovers, and he knew she considered him
her
lover; and it pissed them the hell off when a man up and left before they awoke. But he knew Jaci. If he had awakened her, she would have questioned him. Those too perceptive eyes would have seen too much right now, things he couldn't risk. Besides, he had work to do. Preliminary reports had come in from England on the investigation into Jaci's link with the Robertses, and he needed to get on that. He had to find out what the hell had happened, because he had a feeling Jaci was up to much more than just thumbing her nose at the congressman and his wife.

Cam was well aware of the very shadowed rumors that circulated about the congressman and his wife and the games they played with their secretary. There had been no rumors that those games had gone any further, but Jaci had stayed in the Robertses' mansion for a week, after they'd hired her to redesign the layout of the mansion. It was at that time that the Robertses had targeted her.

Something happened during that week. He knew it, could feel it, something that threatened her.

Cam could feel the hairs at the back of his neck prickling whenever he thought of the Robertses and Jaci together in that house for a week. Something primal awakened in him at the thought of that, an anger that threatened to burn into destructive rage.

Richard and Annalee Roberts kept their dirty laundry carefully hidden, but Cam knew what it was. He'd known others like them, had experienced the depravity that was a part of them. And he swore if he found out that depravity had touched Jaci, then Richard Roberts and his wife would burn.

Jaci heard the hotel room door snick closed, and opened her eyes slowly. She could feel the anger beginning to build inside her. She didn't want to admit that he would leave her like this. That he would just tuck her into the bed and then walk away.

There was a part of herself that reminded her that at least he had taken her to the bed. She'd heard complaints in their hometown that he would just get up, dress, and leave, with no more than laying a blanket over them.

Chase, it had been rumored, was the considerate one. He was the cuddler, the hugger. He was the one that stayed the night and left the next morning with a kiss and sweet words. Tonight, neither of them had stayed.

So why had she fixated on Cam instead?

She rolled over, flipped the blanket off, and left the bed. Padding into the living room, she moved to where she had dropped the evening gown and picked it up, her hand smoothing over the wrinkles as her gaze moved to the coffee table and the small note he had left.

She stopped and just stared at it. He had left her a note? He couldn't wake her up and explain why he was leaving, but he had left her a note.

She moved to the table, picked it up, and read. Her lips tightened and outrage trembled through her body.

You were sleeping so well, I didn't want to awaken you. I returned home to check on a few things and shower and change. Will pick you up at nine. Cam.

Oh. My. God. It was the same as a lie. He had written the note as though leaving at dawn, rather than minutes after the most incredible orgasm of her life.

"Bastard!" She wadded the note up and tossed it to the couch with a furious flick of her wrist.

Then in a burst of anger, she scooped it up, smoothed it out, opened her briefcase, and furiously shoved it inside.

"You're so dead, Cameron Falladay," she snarled, shaking with anger as she stood naked, her body still sensitized by his touch and sated by his possession of her. "You are so fricken dead."

Jaci jerked her cell phone from the desk and hit Courtney's number. It was late. Too late to be calling, but she was burning inside, furious.

"Jaci?" Courtney's tone was concerned, and faintly drowsy, when she answered. "What's wrong?"

Jaci looked at the clock. It was after one in the morning.

"I'm sorry." She blinked back angry tears. Hurtful tears. "It's too late to call."

"No, don't hang up. Just a second."

There was murmuring, the sound of Ian's voice in the background, then silence.

"He left you, didn't he?" Courtney retorted moments later, her tone irritated now. "I've heard rumors he does such things, but I never believed he would be so insane as to do this with you."

Jaci shook her head. She shouldn't have called. She pushed her fingers through her hair, grimacing at the unfamiliar need to just talk.

"I don't know what to do," she finally whispered, knowing there was no one else she could talk to, no one else who could come even close to understanding this problem. "The sharing." She shook her head again. "The pleasure is incredible, Courtney. But I need more."

"We are women." Courtney sighed. "The need to be held is as strong as the need to be possessed."

Jaci moved back to the bed, pulled the comforter around her, and stared into the darkness.

"I shouldn't have come here," she said then. "I should have learned my lesson when I was twenty-one. Cam doesn't want to be a lover, Courtney. When am I going to accept that?"

"Jaci, dear, Cam is your lover already," Courtney stated. "The possessiveness burns in his eyes. The need for more will resolve this. You have only to press the right buttons within him."

"He has buttons?" She sniffed. "I haven't found them."

And then, she heard the sound of a diabolical little laugh. Grown men were known to flinch at that sound. It was soft and sweet, filled with knowledge and with wicked, certain purpose.

"Ah, my friend," she drawled then. "Shall I tell you about the buttons such men possess?" Her voice lowered. "Take notes now dearest, because trust me, there are buttons and then, there are
buttons.
And for this man, who I know has never looked at a woman as he looks at you, for as long as I have known him, he would have many, many buttons."

Jaci breathed in roughly. "Games," she whispered. "I hate playing games."

"Not games, Jaci." She could almost see Courtney's frown. "This is no game. It is a war, my friend. And you must learn the rules or he will walk over your heart and bleed you to death. You know your lover, you know what you need. Fight for this, Jaci. Fight for his love."

The foreign flavor of her friend's voice soothed, softened.

"Do not worry." Courtney laughed then. "I intend to help you in this."

And this time, it was Jaci that flinched.