The Billionaire's Prize: Taken & Tempted: (Book 3 Billionaire Bodyguard Series) Page 17

  Need flooded her veins, making her senseless, impassioned beyond reason. Heat swirled in her core. His demanding hands snaked up her shirt and cupped her breasts, grasping and shaping her rounded flesh. He groaned into her mouth.

  Ignoring their surroundings, he reached for the button on her jeans, and in seconds he wrenched them down below her hips, smoothing his thumbs over her exposed abdomen. Then his hands curved around to her backside, cupping her bottom and shoving her against his hard length.

  Vaguely aware they needed to move out of this public space, she tore her lips from his. “Take me to our room.”

  The hungry glazed look in his eyes cleared for a moment. “Right.” He barely contained himself until he found their room, the keycard unsteady in his hand as he swiped it until the door unlocked. He tossed her inside, slamming the door closed with his foot.

  He released his temporary restraint. “You’re mine.”

  They resumed their frantic pace, clutching each other as their passion heightened. He pinned her to the wall of their bedroom suite, dragging her wrists up over her head. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, and he held her captive between his tall hard body and the unyielding force at her back. He tore off his shirt, followed by his pants and all the rest, until he stood before her naked, his skin smooth and hot to the touch.

  He grabbed her hands and circled them around his neck, then undressed her with quick, efficient movements.

  Capturing her in his arms, he crushed her bare breasts against the hard plane of his chest. He hooked her legs around his waist. The silky head of his erection pressed against her damp opening.

  He slid into her sharply. She gasped, her body gripping him in a tight sheath. He pulled out halfway then lunged into her again.

  So hard. So deep. So good.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Take me.”

  With each feral plunge, her breasts leaped and her nipples scraped his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through the firm tips. His mouth fastened on her neck, sucking and tasting her skin. Her back slid up and down the wall, again and again, her weight suspended in his arms.

  Desire coiled tighter and tighter inside her. “Don’t stop.”

  Embedded to the hilt, his thrusts became hard, pounding drives.

  “Yes… Yes… God, yes!”

  The spiral of desire tightened unbearably and suddenly snapped. She cried out. Pleasure released in waves of ecstasy, echoing in ebbs and swells, shaking her entire body. The tight inner spasms rippled around his heavy length until he cursed and stopped moving, almost at the brink himself.

  Covered in the sheen of their mingled sweat, she sagged against his chest.

  “Now I want you under me,” he snarled softly.

  Moving to the bed, he laid her out on the mattress and kissed her again, his tongue searching her with urgent strokes. He imprisoned her wrists above her head, his hard body glistening above her. Suspending above her, he pressed his palms to the mattress on either side of her shoulders, giving her a glorious view of his rippling abs and taut shoulders.

  A delicious heaviness filled her limbs as his hard length thrust into her again. Their eyes locked. His mouth was parted, breathing labored, as he slid inside her with long, luxurious strokes. His hips rocked between her clenched thighs yet his torso hovered high above, too far away. She wanted to feel him right up against her, skin against skin, his strong arms holding her tight. But he seemed too intent right where he was, moving over her, staring down at her like a man obsessed with his possession. She had no choice but to watch him take her and enjoy every minute of it.

  Finally, he bent his elbows and lowered his weight, his chest coasted across hers. He cupped her breast and his hot breath fanned the tip before his tongue curled and flicked the hard bead.

  Their fluid rhythm turned urgent and hungry as his body strove toward release. He covered her mouth, his tongue gliding alongside hers, while his strokes became erratic primal thrusts. She clasped his neck and bit down on his shoulder as an orgasm cascaded through her in a burst of lights and liberation.

  He surged deep, shouted a curse and pulled out, spilling his release across her stomach. His erection throbbed and he shivered with each intense pulse until he let out a long, satisfied groan. He relieved her of his weight, sprawling on the bed beside her.

  Blood sluggish and thick in her veins, she lounged languidly next to him. The way he made love to her left no doubt of their physical compatibility. He rocked her world. And then some.

  “God, you’re amazing,” he said between unsteady gasps.

  As his breathing slowed to normal, and they basked in the afterglow of bliss, she became aware of the thick, warm trails of his release across her stomach. They hadn’t used a condom. Thankfully, he’d had the presence of mind to pull out before he came, because she’d been too caught up in the moment and the bare pleasure to notice.

  “Thank you for not…” Her lust fogged brain searched for the appropriate phrase. “You know…inside me.”

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “No.”

  Propping himself up on one elbow, he reached for the corner of the sheet and wiped her stomach until only a faint stickiness remained. “Either way, it wouldn’t matter.”

  Swallowing a lump of uncertainty, she wasn’t sure what he meant by the statement. “What wouldn’t matter?”

  He tossed away the damp part of the sheet and cupped her face, giving her lips a few soft sips. “I’ll always take care of you.”

  That still didn’t clarify the notion that bothered her. “What is this, Cade? Between us?”

  “It’s fantastic,” he said, and she heard his pleasure-drunk smile surrounding the words. He kissed the outer rim of her ear. “We have time to figure that out.”

  “Where? When? How much time?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged without being dismissive. “Does it matter?”

  She didn’t respond, unable to express her darkest concerns in words. What if you change your mind? What if you get bored and don’t want me anymore? What if I’m not enough?

  He yawned and nuzzled the nook between her neck and shoulder. “You’re everything to me, Kylie.”

  As he drifted off to sleep, she lay in his arms wide awake in the dark. His whispered words cart-wheeled through her mind.

  How much did he mean them? How much could he mean them?

  Fate had thrown them together and lust had filled in any inconvenient blanks. How could she trust what was happening between them when, once the danger dissolved, everything would change?

  Everyone had left her. Her mother. Her father. Her lovers. What made Cade any different from anyone else?

  Surrounded by sheets drenched in the scent of their lovemaking, she turned away from him. In his semi-conscious state he gathered her back against his chest, so strong and shielding.

  Had she not lived the experiences she had, she might’ve trusted his strength and believed in his altruistic certainty. She wished she shared his gallant convictions.

  In science, every particle of matter inevitably seeks to find its lowest point of gravity. Similarly, fate always extracts its equivalent value to whatever is offered. Whether gift or sacrifice. All things come with a price.

  As her mother regrettably discovered, any woman who marries for money earns every penny. Or ends up useless and discarded.

  One thing she knew beyond doubt, she would never become her mother. Loving a person to achieve an escape, out of convenience and pride. Dazzled and seduced by a man who said all the right things, who had all the right looks and credentials and finances…who also refused to separate his desires from his vices.

  Cade wasn’t that man. Kylie knew that—believed that.

  But she couldn’t trust him completely.

  She trusted no one.

  Despite the darkness and her unfamiliarity with the layout of The Montgomery Hotel, she slid out of bed, dressed in her discarded clothes, and exited the suite she shared with Cade. She found her way
to the library, a lovingly familiar space, and sank onto the rose-velvet upholstered Victorian sofa.

  The remnants of a fire lingered in the hearth. She breathed in the exotic yet homey scent, a luxury for a girl who hadn’t grown up with a fireplace. What a soothing, earthen smell of burnt wood and live ash. The coals burned at the bottom of the grate like creatures glowing with crackling little lives of their own, brightening and fading at will.

  This seemed like such an intellectual space, with such a masculine atmosphere. Even though he’d never been much of a reader, her father would’ve loved this room.

  I miss you, Daddy. I love him, but what do I do?

  She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until two strong arms lifted her in an easy embrace. She mumbled an apology, vaguely sensing that one was necessary.

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  The gentle words cascaded over her, instantly calming her heartbeat.

  “You don’t need to do anything,” he whispered. “Just let me hold you all night. Is that okay?”

  “Mmm,” she responded absently, far too inundated by warmth and the sensation of being cared for far beyond her comprehension, to surface entirely from her dreams.

  “Let it go,” said a comforting masculine voice that surrounded her with calm. “I’ve got you.”

  “Yes…” she whispered into the darkness, knowing somehow a safety net existed beneath her for the first time that hadn’t before. And that he would never let her fall.

  *

  “Cade told me I might find you here.”

  Kylie dragged her gaze from the heavy book in her hands and smiled at Ellie. “He was right.” She gestured at the expansive room with two walls of bookcases. “How could I resist? It’s like having hundreds of years of classics and reference materials at your fingertips.”

  Ellie’s unusual golden gaze shone brightly in shared enjoyment. “Growing up, I spent hours in here, sometimes days. These books were my friends that I escaped to whenever I needed them. There’s nothing better than a great book to take you far away from life’s worries.”

  “About that.” Kylie closed the book in her hands and stared at the binding. “Thank you for taking us in.”

  A lyrical laugh met the statement. “It’s not like you are a couple of orphans who showed up on our doorstep,” Ellie said. “Cade and my husband have a longstanding friendship. Carter was thrilled to hear he’d be stopping by for a few days.” She touched Kylie’s arm. “So am I. It’s nice to have an excuse to ignore the daily to-do list required for running a hotel, even for a little while.”

  Kylie smiled with appreciation. “Thanks for making me—us—feel so welcome.”

  Ellie shrugged. “It’s in my blood. My parents owned the Montgomery Hotel for decades before Carter and I took it over to refurbish the building and the hotel’s image.”

  “You’ve done a lovely job. It’s so calm and peaceful here.”

  An ear-piercing wail preceded the thunder of little feet down the hallway. “Mommy! Mommy!” Emma burst into the library and ran full speed toward Ellie. “I hurt my finger. Look!”

  Ellie glanced at Kylie, offering an apologetic sigh. “Sure, quiet and peaceful…minus the screaming children.” Ellie bent down to inspect the wound, a small red nick on her knuckle, and kissed the scrape. “That looks pretty bad, sweetie. I’m not sure even a band aid will help.”

  Emma grinned, showing off a gap where she’d lost a tooth. “Yes, it will.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Ellie pointed toward the gigantic dining room filled with enough tables to rival a restaurant, where the four adults had eaten breakfast an hour ago. “See if you can find Matilda in the kitchen. I know she’ll have a band aid for you in her apron. Maybe even a piece of candy if you’re lucky.”

  Letting loose a squeal of delight, her pain instantly forgotten, Emma raced off to find the elderly housekeeper. Warmth infused Kylie’s chest watching the exchange. Ellie was a wonderful down-to-earth mom, who balanced motherhood and her career and her marriage like a multitasking pro.

  For a moment, possibly the first time ever, Kylie seriously examined the idea of having children of her own. She’d concentrated so completely on finishing two degrees over the past five years that she hadn’t taken time to consider her future beyond graduation and landing a good paying job doing the work she loved. She’d taken care of her younger sister after school for years, while Dad went to work at the casino. When Mom left, Kylie had tried to offer a motherly influence for Lindsey, but a nine-year-old needed her real mother, not her eleven-year-old sister acting the part. She’d tried everything in her power to shield Lindsey during the media flogging that had terrorized their family. But Lindsey had been fourteen at the time, she’d comprehended what was happening, and through the whole miserable experience they had both grown up too fast, too soon.

  She knew one thing for sure. Her desire to have children would depend on whether she found a true partner in life, someone who offered her and their potential family reliable financial and, more importantly, emotional security. She required stability in her future, after going so long without it in her past. She wanted her partner to be passionate about his profession the way she was, but also understand the necessary balance between work and family life. She wanted him to be intelligent and attractive, but not too good-looking so women wouldn’t throw themselves at him the second she turned her back at a bake sale. Someone content with a quiet, uneventful life in a suburban cul-de-sac.

  Someone completely unlike Cade Soren.

  “Kylie.”

  She blinked. “Yes?”

  “I asked if you’d like to join us at the pool,” Ellie said.

  Kylie took one look at Ellie’s perfectly slim physique, after giving birth to two children, and considered declining.

  “Come on,” Ellie nudged. “The pool is indoors and it’s heated. We’ll have it all to ourselves. Besides, I’m desperate for adult conversation. Discussing the intricacies of The Very Hungry Caterpillar isn’t as scintillating as one would think. Especially after reading it out loud a thousand times. And if I hear the Daniel Tiger theme song one more time I might tear out my fingernails with a rusty pair of pliers.”

  After her generous hospitality, the least Kylie could do was go to the pool and keep her company. “Okay.” Though Kylie couldn’t make herself put back the hardcover volume in her hands. “Would you mind if I brought this with me? I promise not to get it wet.”

  “Bring as many books as you want.” Ellie slid beside her and glanced at the title. “Southern Law, 1892?”

  Kylie shrugged sheepishly. “I’m getting my master’s in paralegal studies, and what I’ve read so far in this book is highly entertaining.”

  “Whatever puts butter on your grits,” Ellie said.

  Amused by the southern phrase, Kylie excused herself to get dressed for the pool. Stopping by her and Cade’s room, she donned her two-piece Cade had bought for her, plus the gauzy cover up she’d worn in his hot tub.

  Minutes later she met Ellie and the kids by the poolside. Her flip flops slapped on the tile, the sound echoing through the balmy room. A wall of windows spanned the length of the swimming pool. Halfway toward the ceiling, they curved and arched overhead like six rows of skylights, and morning sun brightened the room. She wondered if the space had once housed a conservatory, serving as a greenhouse before they converted it into a pool room.

  She grinned and waved at Emma, who performed a child’s interpretation of a swan dive to show off her water baby skills, and then she deposited her book on a small round tabletop. Spreading her oversized towel across one of the reclining pool chairs near Ellie, at the shallow end of the pool, she propped the book on her thighs and opened to the page where she’d left off.

  “Hey, Ellie, get this,” she said, her cheeks growing hot with amusement. “In Quitman, Georgia, it was illegal for chickens to cross the road.”

  Ellie snorted. “No wonder they have that absurd old saying, ‘Why did the
chicken cross the road.’”

  “I know, right?” Kylie let out a peal of laughter, which Emma mimicked even though she had no idea what was so funny. “And in the south it was illegal for an atheist to hold office.”

  Ellie grinned. “Well, there goes the separation of church and state.”

  “Aren’t these insane? Now, are you glad I brought this book?”

  “Tell me more about the preposterous state of affairs in our legal system prior to nineteen twenty.”

  “When women earned the right to vote,” Kylie replied. “I mean, seriously, we’re intelligent human beings. How did we not have the right to vote until nineteen twenty?!”

  “I know,” Ellie said, shaking her head as she helped her son swim back and forth between her and the metal ladder, his fluorescent orange arm floaties carrying him most of the way. “What other insane notions did legislators have back then?”

  “Oh, get this. According to Colorado law—why it’s in this book about Southern Law, I can’t tell you—a man cannot marry his wife’s grandmother.”

  “Well, thank God.” Ellie erupted into laughter. “We wouldn’t want a cougar getting in on our action.”

  “Right? Or this. In Texas you’d better not throw a banana peel, or the horses might slip.”

  Ellie wiped a tear from her eye with the semi-dry heel of her hand. “God, this is hilarious. Keep going.”

  “Oh, this is brilliant. According to Florida law, anyone who takes a bath must wear clothes.”

  Ellie snorted. “That’s to prevent all those heathen men and women from cavorting around naked while they bathe. Good God.”

  “And, it’s against the law in Kentucky to remarry the same man four times.”

  Holding her hand to her chest, Ellie shook her head. “You’d think the girl would know better by then. If she doesn’t, she deserves to get arrested.”

  “Exactly,” Kylie agreed.

  She rattled off a dozen more preposterous laws before closing the book. Dominique would’ve adored hearing these.