Early Sins (Dangerous Games Book 0) (18 page)

He didn’t even speak as he got to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit. With his long gait she had to walk faster, the heels clicking a metronome pattern that seemed to urge him on further.

They exited into the empty hallway as a voice from a microphone inside the gala started to welcome the guests for the dinner, but he turned away from the party, away from the front doors and moved them deeper into the building.

“What’s going on?” she hissed, but he didn’t respond. Her mind was working on overdrive – had she missed something? Was there a threat? Was this just another test gone fucking sideways because she had no idea what she was doing?

Smith’s grip on her hand was bordering painful as they hurried towards the darker end of the hall, and she could see that the large wooden doors at the end were shut, and they did not seem like the kind of doors that would be unlocked. Suddenly he pulled them to a stop and dragged her into a rounded alcove.

“C…” With a tug on her hand he pulled her towards him and then pressed her back against the wall, his body close to hers. His hands brushed her cheeks, his expression reverent, holding her in place as his eyes danced over her face – and then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft and gentle, but hungry, powerful. Raw with need.

He nipped her bottom lip and let out a growl against her mouth as he delved his tongue inside, her hands gripping the front of his tux to pull him more firmly against her. He tasted like whiskey, sweet and warm, and she dove into the kiss with everything she had. One of his hands slid into her hair, tightening to tilt her head back so he could control it and she moaned against his lips as lightning took up residence in her spine. Everything tingled, and she couldn’t tell if it was the haze of alcohol building in her bloodstream from those last two hasty drinks, or if Smith was seriously just
that
good of a kisser. When he suddenly leaned down and scooped her off the floor, his strong hands under her thighs, she decided on the latter.

Camille wrapped her legs around his waist, and although it meant that she was digging her gun into his ribs, he didn’t seem to mind.
Fuck, he could kiss.
He devoured her as he crushed her against the wall, freeing one hand to glide up the bared skin of her thigh, and she rocked her hips, encouraging him, moaning softly against his lips. The hard press of his cock through his pants was impossible to ignore, and more than anything she wanted him.

Please don’t be a fucking dream.

As if he could hear her thoughts, the kiss broke and he pulled back a fraction of an inch, their harried breaths mingling between them, his jade eyes intense on hers, and she heard the low growl in his chest just before he kissed her again, harder than before. Urgently, like he was afraid she might disappear before he could memorize her – as if he were worried it was a dream too. His fist tightened in her hair, and it sent sparks down her back to join the storm growing inside, forming a warm, tight ball of electricity low in her belly.

When he broke the kiss again they were both gasping, and he groaned, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. She could feel his heart pounding almost in time with hers, his shirt and jacket brushing against her chest. With a delicate touch she ran her hands tentatively up his arms until she could move them into his hair, fine strands tickled her hands before she tugged him gently away from her so she could see his face.

He looked like he was in pain, his incredible eyes vibrant and the most out of control she’d ever seen him. His was voice rough when he finally spoke, “You are so perfect, C. You are so unbelievably beautiful, and strong, and smart, and – God dammit.” With a sharp movement he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her away from him so that she had no option but to release him and plant her treacherous heels onto the tile again. When he tried to move away she grabbed onto his jacket and yanked him towards her.

No
.
Not again.

“Smith –” she said his name fast before pushing her hands into his hair to pull him down to her lips, and they stumbled backward until she was against the wall again. The kiss was all urgency on her part, and he met her with the same desperate intensity. There was an unmistakable hunger in it, a heat that was the delicate precision of fireworks and an out of control forest fire at the same time – and she was sure she was about to get burned, but she couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it. This was Smith.

Her savior. Her teacher. Her gun-toting angel of death.

It was a moment more before his hands landed on her again, but it seemed he couldn’t resist the pull either. One hand pressing in at her waist to pin her to the wall, the other sliding up her side until he held the base of her neck and suddenly she was pressed completely against him once more, the hardness against her lower belly unmistakable.

Just fuck me. Don’t think and fuck me.

As his tongue clashed with hers again she held onto his jacket, and moved her other hand lower until she was able to stroke him through his pants, gripping him gently. Urging him on.

“No -” the word escaped him on a grunt as he broke the kiss and jerked his hips away from her touch. “No, C.”

“Come back.” She reached for him again, but he pushed back from her.

“No.” He wiped a hand over his face, his eyes wild as they moved over her. “Hell… what have I done? Oh my God, what have I -” He turned and paced to the other side of the alcove, her heart trying to beat out of her chest as she caught her breath from the intense kisses and the suddenness of his departure.

“Smith,
listen
, I want -”

“Oh God, I can’t believe -” he cut her off, but then he couldn’t continue speaking. Those pale green eyes flicked towards her and then he turned away, his hands tearing into his hair to grip it painfully tight.

“Smith! Fucking look at me!” Camille shouted and her voice echoed off the tile, but it was worth it when he froze in place and slowly raised his gaze to her face. “I need you to listen to me right now, I want you. I want this. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, and I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but -”

“I can’t do this.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes low.

“You were doing it pretty fucking well a second ago.” She growled under her breath, refusing to let it drop this time. There was no bathroom for him to go run and hide in, and she wasn’t going to let him pretend that he didn’t feel the pull like she did. She’d
seen
it now. Felt it. He’d lifted the mask and shown her exactly what he wanted, and there was no fucking way she was accepting his lies again. “Do not pull this shit. I want you, you want me, there’s nothing fucking wrong with –”

“I don’t even know how old you are, C!” He shouted at her, and there was no mask at all anymore, no cool exterior, no professional distance making her feel alone – he was fully present, every random emotion on full display as it passed over his face. His voice was cracking, pained, and the words tore at her as he spoke. “Jesus, I don’t know how old you are…” he laughed to himself, wiping a hand over his mouth as if he could erase the memory of her lips. “All of this. I’ve done all of this, I’ve shown you all of this, and I don’t -”

“Why on earth would my age mean anything?!”

“Because it does, and I’m sorry. I never should have done this.” He shook his head, holding his hand out like he was trying to stop her.

“Fuck you!” she shouted, her anger boiling up inside her. She pointed at him and stepped forward from the wall. “You don’t get to tell me I’m strong,
smart
, and then act like this. You don’t get to be confident in my ability to kill another person – and then try to tell me I’m too young to handle this. That I can’t handle YOU. Fuck you, Smith. You know what? You’re a colossal asshole.”

There was a flicker of fire in his eyes when he looked up at her. “This is
different
, C.”

“It’s not different, you’re just being a pussy about it.” She laughed and raked her gaze up and down his James Bond meets male model perfection appearance, his normal calm façade all tied up in knots just because he wanted her. “You’re just afraid.”

“I am
not
afraid. I’m protecting you.” There was a little more bite in his voice, and she smiled.

“Protecting me? Don’t be a spineless bastard, Smith. You’re only protecting yourself.”

“I will
not
be another monster in your life, Camille!” he snapped, and she opened her mouth as she stared at him.

So that’s it. That’s always been it.

“You think you’re a monster? For wanting me?” She laughed bitterly. “You think that if I thought you were a monster that I would have kissed you a few months ago? Do you really think that if
I
believed you were just another asshole that I wouldn’t have slit your throat in your fucking sleep before now?”

He stared at her, his expression growing controlled again, all of that wild panic leaving his face, but she wasn’t done.

“Because if you think that I’m that fucking stupid, I don’t know why you trusted me with a gun in the first place. I don’t know why you’d ever trust me to have your back on a job.” She lifted her chin, chewing on her lip as she rested back against the wall, wrestling with the flickering rage and lust and hurt. “Unless you
don’t
trust me. Is that the deal here? You don’t trust me? My judgment? My fucking ability to make choices? Because of my past?”

“Of course I trust you!”

“Then why are you being such an incredible asshole about this?!” She slapped the wall next to her, grateful that the sound of some droning speech echoing down the hallway meant their angry words probably couldn’t be heard inside the gala.

“I can’t do this right now.” He stepped away from the wall and started to move towards the entrance, but she moved fast to cut him off, standing her ground in front of him.

“No.”
You are not running from me again.

“Move, Camille.”

“Make me.” She braced her heels as much as she could, and when he moved to step around her she dropped and swept his legs out from under him. Smith landed hard, but twisted to flip himself into a crouch, his eyes flashing as he looked up at her. “Get up,” she growled down at him, channeling his voice from every session they’d ever had together, and his muscles twitched in response.

“This is not the place for this,” he said as he stood slowly, but she could tell by the way he was moving that he was ready for the fight.

“You picked the location.”

“There are civilians.”

“We’ll call it a marital dispute.” Lunging for him she faked a hit to his left side and then twisted and landed her elbow into the ribs on his right, before bringing her elbow up into the side of his head. He caught her arm then, twisting it, but she moved with him and delivered a series of hits to his midsection before he released her.

His hand caught her long hair when she tried to step away and she cursed herself for not figuring out how to do some fancy up-do that would have been more difficult to grab. She let him bow her backwards, feeling the strain in her back, and then held onto his wrist tightly so she could throw her leg up and around his neck in a swift movement that sent them both to the floor in a heap.

Smith didn’t wait. As soon as they landed he grabbed her arm and twisted it, pulling it straight up as he flipped her onto her stomach, landing his knee in the small of her back as he slammed her to the floor so she couldn’t ease the pressure. “
No one
will believe this is a simple marital dispute,” he growled above her.

“I honestly don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” She grabbed his wrist, digging her thumb into the tendons until she felt his grip loosen and then she broke the hold, ignoring the sharp pain in her arm as she did it. Reaching back she grabbed onto his jacket and threw her weight over, lifting her hip to help and he toppled to the floor beside her. A sharp hit to his diaphragm made him cough, and then she shoved herself to her feet, planting her heel over the same spot so that the slight pressure of the vicious point made it difficult for him to regain his breath. “You don’t get to pretend you don’t want me anymore, Smith. You don’t get to lie to me. It’s time to fucking man up and deal with this. I’m not letting you run from me, and I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

His eyes roamed up her body until he met her steady gaze, his pupils slowly growing to overtake the ring of pale green. “Is that right?” he asked, and then his hands were on the backs of her calves, warm fingers squeezing the flesh. Then he pulled hard, buckling her legs. His strength wasn’t something she could fight against in the moment, and when it resulted in her straddling his ribs, her knees spread wide, she didn’t even want to argue. “So… I can’t say no?” his voice was a low purr that sent chills over her skin.

“I don’t think you want to,” she whispered.

“I don’t.” Smith reached for her and pulled her down to his lips for a kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair. It was the kind of kiss that burned the air out of her lungs and set her blood on fire, making her dizzy with it.
Impossible. This is impossible.
A low groan hummed between them, the world narrowing down to just the two of them for one blissful moment, and then he growled and pushed her back. “Shit. Not here in the middle of the hall. We need to move, come on.”