Penthouse Prince (12 page)

Upon reaching his bedroom, he kicked the door closed behind him, not willing to release her and let her come to her senses. If he was stealing moments with her, they’d be as many as he could get. Releasing her to slide down his body, he didn’t end the kiss, starved for the mysterious flavor of her and unwilling to lose even a second of the taste.

She twisted away from his lips, breathing hard. He stilled and let go of her, and his hands clenched in fists. She’d walk away, he knew. He waited for the blow of her leaving.

Instead, her fingers fought the buttons on his shirt, and he released the breath he hadn’t realized he held. He helped her remove his shirt, then reached for hers. They shed garments as they stumbled for the bed, and the little rational voice in his mind warned him to stop while he still could.

If she’d haunted him before, these stolen moments and the actual knowledge of what her body felt like under his would be a hundred times worse. It was one thing to imagine how she’d feel coming apart under him and shouting his name. The torment of imagining would pale in comparison to the hell of knowing, for a fact, what he’d lost.

But it didn’t matter, not really, not when she was here, she was his, and she’d chosen to stay.

Finally revealing her flesh in the bright sunshine lit bedroom, he breathed out a little raggedly. Lovely. His bride-to-be was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. Stroking his hand down her flesh, he watched his fingers shake at the weight of the moment.

And then he stopped thinking and sank into his fantasy come to life.

Chapter Twenty-One

They should talk about everything that happened. About where they wanted to go, about the coming wedding and the discussion with their parents. Logic suggested she stop him, stop herself, and insist on those conversations.

Although she knew the wise choice was to slam the brakes on the madness overtaking her system, she wasn’t quite in the mood to care about wisdom. She always made the right choices, took the safe bets, did the things she should do. For just once, for a stolen moment in time, she wanted to risk it. She wanted him, and damn the consequences.

She didn’t know why he’d spun on her, twisting his hand in her hair, and pinned her to the wall like a starving man who could no longer hold himself back. She didn’t care why, thrilled that he’d done it. She wrapped herself around him, determined to see this through and give herself over to her carnal side which demanded more flesh, more kissing, more everything.

Dimly aware he carried her, she didn’t release his mouth, afraid if he came up for air, he’d rethink and realize what a horrible choice he’d made. That he’d reject her or slide on the cold mogul mask and deride her for giving in to him.

When he closed the door to his bedroom with a click of the lock, her breath shuddered out. She pulled back, searching his face. If she saw even a hint of the sarcastically cold expression, she’d walk away and not stop.

Instead of the icy chill of his distant mask, she saw his lips twisted in carnal need. His cobalt eyes were glazed with passion, and his fists clenched until his knuckles went white. It was as if he fought himself not to touch her and to allow her the moment she needed to escape him.

She didn’t want escape. She wanted more skin, more him, and she didn’t want to wait.

She fumbled with his buttons for a moment before his strong hands joined hers and released them. Watching the crisp white fabric drift to the floor, she knew there wasn’t any going back. Her shirt followed his, then his hands were on her, igniting a thousand fires wherever his touch lingered. Lost in the sensual haze, she found herself naked in moments, laying on her back with him towering over her. His body was as perfect as she’d imagined, and she wondered if her touch could drive him as mad as his did her.

He ran his hand from her neck to the juncture of her thighs, eyes locked on the path his palm traveled, his fingers almost trembling. The tenderness clear on his face made her heart sing.
He does feel more for me than pretended passion!
But then his lips followed the trail of desire, and her thoughts scattered, lost to a miasma of want, need, take.

She couldn’t resist touching him, feeling the bunch and stretch of his long, lean muscles under his heated flesh. While he dropped open mouthed kisses and nibbles on whatever he encountered, she mimicked his motions, pleased when he panted and seemed to get more lost in the glide of their bodies against one another.

When his teasing lips placed a kiss there, between her legs, where she’d so longed for his touch, she cried out his name. He lifted his head, threw one superior smile her direction, and she fisted her hands in the sheets to keep from coming up off the bed. Then he suckled and nibbled, and stars burst behind her eyelids. Lost in the cloud of desire, she arched her hips into his touch. He climbed up her body, and he continued his decadent teasing with his fingers.

“Please,” she begged. “Camden.”

“I can’t resist you anymore, Jeanie. I tried to give you what you want, but right now? I’m taking what we both need.”

She couldn’t find words to answer him, didn’t know what she’d say if she could have spoken past her body’s desperate demands. Luckily, he didn’t require a response, and she felt his hardness press against her aching emptiness as his mouth again found hers.

She pushed up into him, starving for more.

He lifted his head to whisper, “Slowly.”

But then he was inside her, almost too big, and she bit her lip to keep from complaining. The throbbing pleasure died out, and she fought to stay still and not wriggle away from him. Shocked pleasure shot, lightning fast, over his expression. It vanished to be replaced with a mix of concern and fragile control. He slowly rested his forehead on hers, and their breath sped out in tandem.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Tangled with the concern, glimpses of the triumphant glee on his face told her he knew she’d saved herself for him—for this stolen moment out of time. His fingers brushed her hair back from her forehead. She closed her eyes, breathed through the over full sensation, and finally gave in to the need to try to escape.

But the motion of her hips moving away from him sent a new and delicious wave of pleasure to ripple like a warm wave of tingles from her toes to the roots of her hair. She gasped at the feeling and dug her nails into his back.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Don’t move. I’m trying to give you a second to adjust.” His warning fell on her uncaring ears as she pulled back a bit further before shoving herself closer to him. If the feeling of him coming out of her body was great, the feeling of him sliding back in was even better. Moving in an almost circular motion, the liquid heat increased, and she bit down on his shoulder to keep from groaning at the wonder of it.

His soft moan told her it felt good for him, too, and she met his eyes. “I don’t want to stay still. Do you really want to?” She again shifted her hips, but this time, he seemed unable to resist joining her, increasing the motion with the lift and press of his own hips.

He kissed her, hard and fast, before sliding his fingertips between their bodies to tease at the ball of nerves that ached for his touch. Then he moved faster, plunging in and out of her, and she focused on meeting his motions, eyes closed as the spiraling electricity and erotic tension wound her tighter and tighter. He made love like he’d danced, challenging her to keep up and rewarding her enthusiasm with a blend of passion and tenderness.

The band of need finally broke. She flowed over the peak and shattered into a thousand fragments of light as her body quaked with release. Only somewhat aware of his matching cry and the trembles wracking his body, she let the cloud of bliss roll her under and tried to remember how to breathe without the air shuddering out of her.

He moved away from her, but then took her with him. He soothed her with long strokes of his hands up her back, and she allowed herself to rest in the cocoon of his scent blended with hers. He nuzzled at her neck, and she snuggled into the contact. His voice, when he whispered in her ear, didn’t sound like it normally did. “Where’s Kaycee?”

“With Lori. I texted her before I came up. She’s fine.”

His concern for her child warmed her. The languid peace from the orgasm weighted her limbs entangled with his, and she burrowed further into the security of his embrace.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

Hope blossomed in her chest, even if she knew better. Even if she knew it still might all just be a game for him. She nodded, unable to speak with sleep tempting her. She’d marry him, that evening, and maybe she could have security and the fantasy all wrapped up in one tired man.

“Be my wife,” he whispered. “Mine.”

His words confirmed her thoughts, and she nodded again, hoping she hadn’t dreamed it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The wedding ceremony itself would take place in the ballroom. He would have liked to do a location event, picturing Jeanie on a beach holding his hands. But the situation called for fast, and he owned the ballroom.

He’d worn his fair share of monkey suits, but he still regarded his reflection in the mirror and hoped this one would make her smile the little grin she let loose every so often. The smile, when it flickered across those tempting lips, made him feel ten feet tall and able to conquer the world.

The confrontation with his father should have been anticipated, in foresight. He’d planned on her mother reappearing, attempting to shake their day up and to continue to use her own children to further gain for herself, but his father? Somehow he’d not seen that one coming.

Jeanie defending him? Yeah, another shocker. He’d swept into the conversation, fully intending to rescue her from the sharks, only to find his sweet little bride-to-be using her sharp tongue to flay their parents.

No one ever defended him, probably assuming he didn’t need it. He didn’t…but the sensation of being defended was more fulfilling than he would have guessed.

And unexpected
. Jeanie constantly did the unexpected.

He should regret their moments together, feel some kind of guilt for riding the tide of emotions and having sex before they’d actually said “I do,” but he couldn’t drum up any negative feelings when the experience only reaffirmed the wisdom in his choice of a bride.

She didn’t look happy today, not at breakfast or when they’d parted to get ready. Brides were supposed to glow, to look dewy with love.

Not her. She looked like she was trying to get drunk, hence him giving her space at the breakfast, so she could get cornered in the first place.

Shaking off his dark thoughts, he tugged on a pair of chucks—his one concession to personal style for this day—and headed to the elevator. Jeanie would be getting dressed downstairs, surrounded by a herd of fake bridesmaids and one actual one—Lori—helping her to become fully bridal.

He regretted the continued illusions swirling around a day that really should be them, just them, swearing a commitment to one another. He’d make it up to her, though, once he’d won her blind devotion. He’d give her a real wedding, someday, disguised as a renewal ceremony. But the rings would keep her by his side, so he could win that commitment from her.

It could work.

He hummed in the elevator on the way up, then strode to the suite where her preparations would be taking place. He didn’t believe in superstition, and he really wanted a word with her, alone, before they took that walk down the aisle.

He didn’t expect the herd of pastel-covered bridesmaids to be mulling about in the hall.

“She kicked us out,” Lori explained. “And then that jackwad boss burst in, demanding to talk to her and—”

“And you let him
in
?”

…

Jeanie tried to calm her breathing.
Just words
. The coming ceremony would just be words, no more meaningful than any other words, and words couldn’t change who she was.

The pep talk didn’t help. The intrinsic meaning to the vows, the meaning of the day, left some soft bit of her aching for what would never be, not for her.

Brides took this walk on the arms of their fathers, given away into the waiting safety of their groom’s protection. Her dad couldn’t be here. Like so many moments of her life, she’d take this walk alone.

“I wish you were here, Daddy. I agreed to this, and I’m going to do it. You always said the world could take everything from you but your word, and I’m keeping my promise, even if I’m not sure this is the right choice. If it’s any consolation, I think you’d like him. Mostly. After you kicked his ass.”

Chuckling to herself while imagining that meeting, she almost didn’t hear the soft
click
of the door followed by the sound of a lock. Thinking Lori ignored her request for alone time, she turned, skirt swishing with the movement. “Lori, I just need—”

“Sleeping your way to the top? I should have realized, back when I was your boss, how easy it would have been to shut you up, but then again, you had your sights set higher, didn’t you?” Derek leaned on the door and leered at her.

Aversion warred with trepidation, and the combination skittered across her skin like a hundred angry ants. “Why are you here? You don’t—”

“You won’t believe what I got today… Fired. I got fired today. So not only did you sleep your way to the top—like a whore—you got me canned. I have a family, Jeanie. They depend on my—”

She stormed toward the door, planning to breeze past him. “Save it, Derek. Your family depended on you not cheating your company. If you weren’t a thief, Camden wouldn’t have fired you. I’m sure he researched my claims. You don’t know him, he—”

He caught her and slammed her backwards, and she stumbled over the skirt.
Damned train.

“Oh, don’t rush off. We haven’t talked since the day you left on lunch break and headed upstairs. We have
so
much catching up to do. You worked for me for what? A year? Two? Always on time, always so prim and proper, but you weren’t prim and proper for your ‘Camden,’ were you? First name basis with the owner—name dropping, really?”

His breath reeked of alcohol. Unlike Camden, who seemed an altogether happy drunk in her limited experience, Derek oozed menace. Jeanie considered her options. She could scream or…

Apparently she took too long, because he shoved her. Since she wasn’t prepared for the altercation to go physical, he caught her off guard and, tangled in her skirt, she fell backwards.

Sharp pain brought gray dots to dance across her vision, obscuring, at least a little, the menacing grin on his face. She opened her mouth, but he was on her faster than she could manage to make a noise. Pain jangled her thoughts.

One of his hands cupped over her mouth and nose, blocking both sound and air. “Shhh, we’re just talking. No need to get noisy.”

His body pressed into hers, and she could feel his interest—which shot terror through the pain and annoyance. Waiting, she went still. She tried not to panic at the lack of air, but was only able to hold still for a moment before her body rebelled and she fought to get his hand off in earnest.

“As I was saying, my family depended on me. And you’re apparently such a good fuck, you can get one of the richest men in the world to offer you a ring. If you’re good enough for the big man, well, I should see what all the fuss is about, right?” Derek tugged at the bodice of the dress, and beads popped off and rolled on the floor. Dizziness joined the gray dots, and her arms got heavy, useless to try to pry his hand off her face—

But then he was off her, and she could breathe again. Sucking in huge lungfuls of air, she tried to sit up, to figure out what was going on, but didn’t manage to do more than push a few inches off the floor.

The sound of punches, nothing like movie sound effects, still registered, and she pulled up to her elbows to watch Camden, perfect tuxedo rumpled, kicking her old boss’s ass.

“Stop,” she croaked, but neither man looked her way. She cleared her throat and managed to find her voice and try again. “Camden.”

The other man dropped to the ground, boneless as a bag of meat, as Camden rushed to her side. “You okay?”

“Today sucks.”

Laughing, he hugged her, and she allowed herself just a moment to relax in the comfort of his scent and warmth. Her gut said things were about to get worse, but for just a moment, she shoved all of her misgivings aside and pretended he actually cared enough to want her to feel safe.