Wicked Pleasures (22 page)

"Jaci. Baby, this is dangerous." He tried to keep his voice full of warning, but it was more desperate, harder, hungrier than he could remember it ever being.

Then she leaned forward and licked the dark, engorged crest.

The feel of the cooling rain, her heated tongue, her silken fingers stroking him combined, until he threw his head back and felt the throttled groan that tore from his throat.

As though that sound were all she needed, her liquid, hot mouth enclosed the engorged crest and began suckling at the throbbing heat with soul-destroying pleasure.

Before Cam could halt the impulse, his hands were buried in her saturated hair, clenching in the silken strands, as he pulled, moving her, as his hips followed, fucking her lips as pleasure swamped him.

Hell. He stared down at her, watching the heavily veined flesh as she stroked it, watched as her mouth caressed him, and had to fight back the need to come.

He could feel the wicked trails of sensation tightening his balls and traveling up his spine. The back of his head tingled, and dark, desperate impulses began to fire inside his brain.

He stared down at her, watching her suck him—hell,
love
him with her mouth. He could feel the difference. No other woman had touched him like this. He had never been touched the way Jaci touched him. The expression on her face, the way she touched, there was nothing more inside her but the need to give pleasure. The need to make him feel.

He watched her face, saw the dazed pleasure in it. There was nothing depraved, no ulterior motives, there was nothing in her face but pleasure. Just that. She enjoyed it.

He felt mesmerized by her face, and when her eyes opened, the green-and-brown orbs staring up at him with desperate hunger, he lost it.

In all his life, Cam had never lost control of his orgasms. Control had always been there for one reason or another. But when Jaci stared up at him, her eyes darkening, dilating with hunger, her mouth sucking him with wicked innocence, her expression flushed and filled with need, he couldn't hold back.

He tried to pull back. He jerked a hand from her hair, gripped the rigid, pulsing stalk of his cock and tried to pull it from her mouth.

Her hand tightened on his balls, the other wrapped over his, and her whimper of need rippled over the swollen crest as the first desperate spurt of cum shot from the tip.

A growl tore from his throat as she took him. Her mouth became hotter, snugger, the suckling cavern drawing more and more from him, until he was shuddering in reaction, his knees weakening as he filled her mouth with his release.

And still he needed more of her. He couldn't believe how stiff, how hard he still was. He couldn't believe the hunger flowing into him as he pulled her to her feet and jerked her jeans down her legs, pushing her to the soaked pad of the sun lounge behind her.

He knew Chase was watching. That was enough this time. He was there, centering him, holding him back. He hoped. There were so many emotions tearing through him that, hell, he couldn't tell anymore if it helped or not. All he knew was this time, just him and Jaci. The need for it was killing him.

Unlacing and removing her boots took only seconds. The sodden jeans and panties were stripped from her legs, and he had only a brief moment to thank God that the privacy railing around the deck was high enough to hide what was going on behind it.

He tore his shoes from his feet, peeled his pants off his legs, then knelt at the bottom of the lounge, pushed his hands beneath her ass and pulled her to his mouth.

Her legs curled over his shoulders as he buried his lips in the heated syrup of her pussy. He licked and stroked, pursed his lips and kissed the tender bud of her clit until she writhed in his grip.

Jaci was awash in sensuality, in complete sensual overload. She arched to Cam's devouring mouth, twisted against him, then cried out when she felt his fingers stretching her deliciously.

Turning her face into the saturated pad of the cushion, she fought just to breathe. The pleasure was tearing through her, blazing across her nerve endings. Cool rain and blistering hot sensations, her system was rapidly approaching overload and she knew it. Too much pleasure. Too much hunger.

"You're as sweet as candy," he groaned against her flesh, the words rasping, tormented with male lust.

"I can't stand much more," she panted, pushing against him, straining, desperate for release.

She could feel her pussy flexing, milking his fingers. Involuntary contractions tore through her womb, rippled through her core, and sent her juices spilling onto his fingers. And he used the slickness of her response, the juices that spilled from her, and drew his hand back: Protecting her tender flesh from the rain, he slowly lubricated and eased the entrance to her rear, pierced it with his fingers, stretched it as he had her sex.

Jaci's head thrashed on the cushion as her hands burrowed into his hair and tightened in desperation. His lips caressed, his tongue licked.

She could feel the flames of need burning in her rear as he eased into the tender flesh there. He penetrated with first one finger, then two, stretched her, and sent her senses careening with the burning pleasure and pain.

She could feel her own response burgeoning inside her, a dark core of agonizing need that she had only felt in Cam's arms.

"You love this." His voice flowed over her like the rain, like her own dark desires. Because she didn't have to ask what he was talking about, she knew. The image had hit her head the moment his fingers had pierced her ass.

"Tell me you love it."

His head jerked up. Green eyes burned with hunger, with dark, wicked desires, with torment. The agony of hunger she had only glimpsed in him before was burning in him now. His expression was savage with the hunger, with a lust he was doing nothing to hide.

The rain had eased, but the water still washed over his head and face in rivulets. The hard contours were savagely defined now, his eyes narrowed and bright with a ravening desire.

"I love it," she said, moaning.

"I need you," he growled, his fingers pushing deeper inside her rear as his thumb pierced her pussy and sent her arching into exquisite pleasure.

She held his gaze, her vision dimming as the sensations began to pile atop each other. Flash points of need ratcheted through her system and left her shaking in his grip.

"What do you need from me, Cam?"

"All of you." His fingers slid free of her, then he was pushing her thighs apart, coming over her, blocking the rain with his broader body, as his erection nudged into the desperate entrance to her pussy.

Jaci slid her hands to his shoulders, caressing, stroking, then gripping in agonized pleasure as he began to work himself inside her.

"Take all of me, then." She arched closer, her legs lifting, wrapping around his waist as he pressed into her.

His eyes narrowed further. "You're mine."

"Then prove it, Cam. Prove it, damn you. Take me."

He wanted so much more than to just take her. She knew it, she could see it building in his expression, in the battle for control in his eyes. And she watched him, felt him, lose that control.

She arched, twisted, felt the hard thrust that burrowed the length of his cock inside her, stretching her, burning her, taking her with a desperation that rocked her soul.

The hard, plunging strokes fired a pleasure and pain that tore past preconceived notions of pleasure. It whipped through her mind and left her reeling, and it tore through her senses and left her fighting for the breath to scream.

She felt the sensations rising, building. Each hard thrust, as he shafted inside her, threw her higher. Her nails bit into his shoulders, her legs tightened around his plunging hips, and a second later she dissolved around him.

"Fuck. Fuck. No." He was shaking above her, spilling into her, and those haunted, beautiful eyes of his blazed. With possession. With love.

Cam stomped into the house, pulling Jaci behind him, before releasing her in the living room and heading to the enclosed bathroom for towels. Chase was gone. She didn't know when he had left, or how long he had stayed.

Seconds later Cam was wrapping the thick, thirsty material around her wet body, then drying himself off and wrapping the towel snugly around his waist.

He stared at her, horrified by his loss of control, by the sheer thoughtlessness of what he had done. Or what he had nearly done. What he had wanted to do, with a hunger that even now drove spikes of need straight through his balls.

Hell, he still wanted her. He would always want her.

"At least you didn't wait until I was asleep to pull away from me," she said tightly, as she secured the towel over her naked body.

He shot her a glare before stalking to the fridge and beer. His control was still shot. He clenched his teeth and fought to hold on to what few threads were still left.

"Don't push this, Jaci," he finally told her, twisting the cap off the bottle before turning to face her.

Her arms were crossed over her breasts, her hip cocked, her expression as confrontational as any pissed-off redhead. If he were a smart man, he'd have been terrified instead of turned on.

"Don't push this," she drawled. "Excuse me, Cam, but do you think I can't see what's inside you right now? What's inside you every time the three of us come together?"

Hearing the words pass her lips was enough to make his blood boil with that need. He could see her, flushed, screaming, drowning in pleasure.

"Did you expect something different?" he growled. "You knew what I wanted seven years ago, and you knew what it would come to when you invited me and Chase into your hotel room." He stalked toward her. "You came here, and you came to Alexandria, knowing I was here. You knew what you were walking into. You knew you wouldn't be leaving here without this."

And then she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that made his back teeth grind with desire.

"Oh, I knew." She shrugged, and it infuriated him. "Just as I know that I'll be damned if I'm just one of a long line of little pets you and Chase share."

"Did I ask you to be a pet?" he snarled, continuing to advance on her, watching as she retreated until he had her against the wall, until all he could think about was taking her again—plunging inside her, holding her to him, and feeling her hot and tight around him, bare and so slick, so sweet, as he felt every ripple of that snug little pussy. "I warned you, Jaci." He caught her to him. "I warned you that you're mine."

"And what does being yours mean?" Her voice was tight, angry. "And why the sharing? Why do
you
want it?"

"Why do you want it, Jaci?" he asked.

She froze at the question. Her lips parted, her heart stuttered in her chest as she pulled in a shocked breath.

"You love it." He leaned closer, his voice lowering, his body tightening. "Just as much as I do. Tell me, Jaci, why do I see that same need in your eyes?"

Dominance and arrogance filled his expression and his eyes. He was primal, and he knew it—and she should have known there was so little she could hide from him. He had the experience she didn't have. He knew women, he knew lust, and he knew desire. And he knew her.

"I enjoy it," she admitted. "Sometimes, yes, I would crave it. But for God's sake, Cam, I need more than a threesome when you take me. I need more than that for you, for both of us."

Hurt and need welled inside her, tore at her heart and had her shuddering with the attempt to hold it back. "I need more from a relationship than a man that can't bear to spend more than five damned minutes with me alone. Forget sleeping with me. Damn you Cameron. I need you to hold me. I need you to need me, not me and your brother."

She pushed at his chest, the anger building inside her again. No, it wasn't anger, it was fear. What the hell made her think she could come here and not risk every part of who and what she was?

She had promised herself the last time he left her alone she wouldn't be seduced into what he wanted, without owning his heart as well. And she'd be damned if it was working out that way.

Surprisingly, he let her go. She could feel his eyes on her back as she gripped the front of the towel and paced away from him. But he didn't have an answer for her, and she hadn't really expected one.

"What good does it do me to love you?" she finally asked him when she turned toward him. "You're going to destroy us both. Because you won't be honest with me, and I can't trust everything to you, Cam, without the same in return."

"Fine," he snapped. "Start telling me what happened with the Robertses. You want trust, Jaci. Give it."

She stared back at him, wishing with all her soul that she could tell him, that she could trust him not to keep his promise to kill any man that hurt her. And perhaps he wouldn't, but she knew Cam, he would spill blood, and it wasn't blood that she needed to neutralize those two.

"Trust you first, huh?" She smiled sadly. "Doesn't work that way."

She moved back to the balcony. The rain had eased to a drizzle, the soft breeze that blew through was almost cooling. She collected her clothes, wrung them out as best she could, then moved back into the apartment. "Where's your dryer?"

His gaze raked over her, then the clothes. "Subject's not changing that easy, sweetheart."

"Conversation is over," she told him.

A second later she was against the wall again, staring at his furious face in shock. The towel was lying on the floor, and Cam was holding her in place. Not painfully, but carefully, as he glowered down at her.

"You're not leaving here," he snapped. "When I said you were mine I wasn't joking. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go again this easily."

"Does that mean you're sleeping with me tonight, Chase?" She pressed her hands flat against his chest, and knew the answer when she felt the flinch that raced through his muscles. "Can't do it, can you? Well, guess what? I can't let you leave me feeling like something you bought for the night, either."

He released her slowly, but she saw the struggle in his eyes, in his expression. Letting her go was just as damned hard for him as it was going to be for her to walk away.

"I need to dry my clothes," she told him, forcing herself to hold back the tears.

How could she have let this happen? Hadn't she hurt enough over the years? Lost enough?

She clenched her teeth and breathed in roughly as she watched him jerk the wet clothes from the floor and stomp away toward what was obviously an enclosed bathroom on the other end of the cavernous room.

A few minutes later he returned, dressed himself, and brought her a T-shirt.

"Put this on." His voice was still tight, savage.

Jaci stared back at him miserably, aching for things that didn't even have a name. She stared around the open apartment, seeing so much emptiness, and wondered what made her think that Cam would be able to let her fill any part of his life.

God, she wasn't twenty-one any longer. She should have stopped dreaming of fairy tales a long time ago. Cam's heart was as empty as his apartment, and she knew she couldn't survive loving him with nothing in return. She needed his love just as desperately as she needed to love him.

Pressing her lips tightly together to hold back the pain, she finished drying off, then pulled the T-shirt over her head. It was obviously his, or perhaps Chase's. Though she doubted that in his present mood, he would give her one of Chase's shirts to wear.

"I want you to move your things from the hotel to here." His voice was strained, as though he knew the request he was making was ludicrous.

Jaci just stared back at him silently for a long moment before staring around the sterile apartment.

"No."

"Look, you don't like this place? Do whatever the hell you want to it," he said, waving his hand stiffly to indicate the large area. "I don't want you at that hotel. I want you here. With me."

"And where will you sleep?"

He drew in a hard, deep breath. "I don't sleep in the bed. I use the couch, anyway."

"I'm not looking for a roommate, Cam."

She watched his jaw clench spasmodically and felt her heart ache at that sudden flash of pain in his eyes. He stared around the apartment as though searching for answers, searching desperately for the argument that would sway her.

"Look, we could try it for a while." He flexed his shoulders as though shifting a weight he suddenly realized he carried. "What the hell will it hurt, Jaci? You want to be here, you know you do. This isn't something either one of us can walk away from now."

"You appear to be quite good at walking away from it," she argued. "What's going to happen, Cam? You and Chase have me, but it's Chase you would allow to wrap his arms around me and hold me through the night, while you lie in solitary splendor on that big couch?" She waved her hand toward the couch. "Doesn't it ever get lonely? Don't you ever wish you were brave enough to cuddle your lover on your own?"

"Not until you." His voice echoed with despair. "Not until you, Jaci. And you have more of me than any other woman could ever have."

Cam watched the emotions flicker over Jaci's face and felt the fragments of his heart cracking, breaking. She didn't bother to hide her emotions. They were there for him to see, and he hated seeing the pain in her eyes. He hated it even worse, because he had put the pain there.

His gaze flickered to the couch. The wide frame, firm cushions—the piece of furniture had been bought solely because of its sleepability. Because, since his teens, he couldn't fucking bear sleeping in a bed for more than a few hours at a time.

He could still remember the sensation of his flesh crawling, awakening to the feeling of hands touching him, a whining voice demanding him. The last time it had happened, he had nearly killed.

He flexed his hands. He could still remember the feel of her neck in his grip, the soft flesh giving, watery brown eyes wide and filled with horror, as dry, aged flesh clenched beneath his fingers.

God, he hated that bitch. Her and her fucking friends, and the hell he had lived through for five fucking years before he found the guts to get out of it. Until he found a way to get out and still hold on to what little pride he had left.

He had no idea what kept him standing, what kept his shoulders straight. He moved to the only woman who had ever filled more than just a passing urge for sex. The woman who had filled his imagination, the pieces of his heart, and his hunger, for so many years.

He had often asked himself, why this woman? He had tried to make sense of why she drew him to her when others didn't. Why he wanted to be different for her, why he needed to give her parts of himself that he thought were dead long ago.

There she stood, his T-shirt hanging nearly to her knees, her damp hair mussed and feathering around her face and shoulders, naked vulnerability shining in her eyes. And she needed more than he could give. He knew she needed more than he could give, but he couldn't let her go, could no longer risk her finding it somewhere else.

"You've had seven years to find someone else," he told her. "I left you alone. I didn't come looking for you when the need to do just that ate me alive, Jaci. I gave you seven years to find a man that would deserve you, and you didn't. Now you're here, and I won't let you go. If it means destroying what's left of me, I won't let you walk away."

"And if it means destroying what's left of me?" she asked then, her lips trembling as her eyes looked too wide, too filled with sorrow for her pale face.

He cupped his hand around her neck, lifting her face to his. The pain in her eyes nearly broke him. He couldn't let her know the truth of him, he couldn't let that rage and bitterness spill onto her. God help him, hurting her more just might destroy him.

"I don't want to let you go," he repeated, realizing that if she decided to walk, he could do no more to stop her than he had seven years ago. "I've missed you, Jaci. I've ached for you. We deserve to see where it could go."

"And if I grow to care for Chase the way I care for you? What then? I wait and watch as he goes to another woman? Isn't that just asking for more pain?"

Cam shook his head at that. He knew better. "It won't happen. This is for the pleasure, for both of us. Chase cares for you as a friend, the same as you'll always care for him. But nothing, no other man, is going to fill you like I do."

It had to be that way, because he knew no other woman could fill him as Jaci did. Despite the short time she had been here, she was filling parts of him that he didn't know had been empty, that had just been waiting for her.

"I need more," she whispered as his head lowered, as his lips touched hers, caressed hers. "This isn't going to work the way you need it to."

"We could try." He laid his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, pushing the pain back.

Jaci closed her eyes and sighed. She was going to do this. Move in with Cam and Chase. She wasn't walking away from Cam again. It had hurt too much the first time, and it had haunted her too damned long.

She was smart enough to realize that some things, no matter how hard you fought them, were meant to be. This feeling, this need that bound them, was too strong, and she was tired of fighting it. Tired of fighting herself over it.