The Billionaire's Dare (Book 4 - Billionaire Bodyguard Series) (17 page)

With extreme effort, he passed her reclined form and stopped by the bathroom. He grabbed the lavender lotion and returned to the bedside. He set the lotion on the table and tossed a strip of condoms on the bed within easy reach. Then he kicked off his boots, shucked his jeans, socks and boxers. He stood naked in front of her for a moment, grinning at the way her gaze lingered on him, as if she planned to lick him like a lollipop.

Hell, yeah. But not yet.

Her eyes grew heavy-lidded. “Now this is more like it. But why did you turn off the AC?”

He sent her a sinful smile. “I want to make you sweat.”

“I don’t think that’s going to a problem—ooh!”

In a swift move he scooped her up from the mattress, pulled her onto his thighs, and wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock throbbed against her sex. Moisture seeped through her panties. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils and threatened his good intentions. He wanted to throw her against the wall and take her hard.

But that was old Adam.

If he was going to try the whole boyfriend thing, he wanted to do it right. “Lie back, beautiful.” He poured lotion onto his hand and warmed it between his palms. “Let me make you feel good.”

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he guided her down to the mattress. Then he coasted his palms across her collar bones, traced the sides of her breasts. He cupped the soft mounds, scraping his thumbs over the dusky peaks. He smoothed his hands over her body, massaging as he went, imprinting the feel of her onto his senses.

Gliding his hands between her and the sheets, he kneaded her lower back and sides. She arched, bringing her dampness tight against his erection. His cock flexed, and he wanted her so damn bad his vision blurred.

A bead of sweat rolled down his spine. He continued stroking her skin, relaxing her, loving the way she melted under his touch.

Finally, he belt forward, kissed her stomach, and snaked one arm around her waist. He lifted her upright, the tips of her breasts grazing his chest. He brushed her hair to one side and fastened his mouth on her neck, drawing on her skin. He pressed her against his erection, and she draped her arms around his shoulders. Her breathy moans tempted him to the edge of sanity.

Massaging her inner thighs, he dipped his thumbs beneath the damp cloth of her panties, stroked her clit. “I love making you wet.”

“Take me, Adam.” Her whisper was like touching a match to gunpowder.

“Fuck.”

Unable to contain the need raging inside him, he grabbed a condom, tore the wrapped and rolled it on. Then he edged the crotch of her panties aside, lifted her and settled her opening on the head of his cock.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she gripped his shoulders. “Yes.”

The roll of her hips wedged him deeper, and he couldn’t hold out.

Seizing her waist, he brought her down hard as he plunged into her tight heat.

Their groans pierced the sexual tension in the warm air. Remaining upright, he clutched her against him. Moving.
Thrusting.
Filling her.

She unlatched her legs from his waist and brought her knees to the mattress. Taking control, she moved up and down on him. Her head dropped back and her hair spilled over his forearms. He tangled his fingers in the silky strands.

Steam from his mouth coated her neck as he sucked and kissed her skin. Her swollen breasts nudged his chest with each surge inside her.

Though he wanted to fuck her senseless, he let her set the pace, and matched his rhythm to hers. As she rode him, he kept her panties to the side and grazed his thumb over her clit. His circling motions grew faster, and perspiration slicked her skin. Her legs trembled, and he felt her intimate ridges swell against his thumb before she cried out and came, her wet sheath tightening around him.

Their mingled sweat made her slippery in his arms. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop and switch the AC back on.

When her hips stopped shaking, he shifted their position. His turn to have full access and take control. He lifted her off him and laid her on the bed.

Grabbing her panties, he ripped them away and tossed them over the side. He spread her thighs with his knees and guided his erection inside her.
She felt so good, so tight. He didn’t lower himself, though. He hovered over her, kept one arm straight, using his lower body to glide his cock in and out of her wet heat, withdrawing almost completely each time, before plunging forward. He cupped her neck with his other hand, pressing his thumb against her lower lip, staring at her gorgeous mouth as he moved inside her. She parted her mouth and she bit the tip of his thumb before wrapping her lips around the base, swirling her tongue across the callused pad.

“Damn, baby.” He rode the edge of sanity, rode her more roughly, feeling the urgent tightness at the base of his sack.
Not yet.

He lowered his head and drew her nipples into his mouth. Then he covered her, wrapped her around him as he wrapped himself around her. His movements intensified. He took her faster, harder. Her inner muscles gripped him until she quivered and clung to him as they came together. A shivering, shattering release.

“God. Yeah, baby.” The words scraped from his chest and he hauled in heavy breaths, his heart thundering, his body throbbing with the purest kind of pleasure.

He rocked against her a few more times, encouraging every ripple of orgasm until she relaxed in his arms.

Sweat dripped from his body onto hers.
Resting his weight on his forearms, kissed the tip of her nose and grinned down at her.  “Now we move this to the shower.”

There, he turned her to face the tile and took her from behind. Mouth parted, he watched in awe as water slid down the perfect arch of her back and splashed against the muscles of his stomach. He reveled in the sound of his hips slapping her ass, and the way her body met his thrusts.

One the verge of coming again, he reached around and stroked her clit. Water rushed between her thighs, through his fingers. She lifted onto tiptoe and planted her hands against the tile, screaming as he delivered her to climax. He followed right behind, yanking her hard against his hips. He swore he came for a full minute, groaning while she drained him dry.

Tension unwound from his muscles and he made out with her under the warm spray of water. “So damn hot, baby.”

Then he withdrew, tossed the spent condom in the trashcan, and reached for the soap. He couldn’t wait to see suds coasting down her beautiful form. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of touching her, holding her, making love to her.

Ten minutes later, he laid on the bed with her in his arms, letting the air conditioning dry their heated skin. He swore she glowed when she lifted her face to his. He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

“That was amazing,” she said, her words breathy. Then she giggled. “I’ve never come so many times in twenty-four hours.”

He frowned. “Then those guys were doing something wrong.”

She tucked her head against his shoulder. “Or maybe you just do everything right.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, he trailed his fingertips lazily over her soft skin. Maybe this could turn into more than a trial run. Maybe he had what it took to be boyfriend material.

He had to admit, spending most of the day with her had made him feel pretty damn good. He liked being fun and playful, teasing her like he had in the diner. Then playing the part of the badass, protecting her from Butcher’s thugs. And then taking her to bed…
She
had rocked
his
world.

Sleeping with her made his former conquests fade like mist at the back of his mind.

This, what he had with Marissa, was good. Felt right.
As long as he didn’t mess things up, like he usually did, he just might have a shot with her.

He wanted her with a fierce, consuming possessiveness that shocked him to his core. He would battle all the forces of hell on earth for this woman.

Starting with Butcher.

Adam arrived early to the auction.

He wanted to prove his solidarity to the townspeople. And witness Butcher’s reaction when he rode up and saw Tate’s “relative” there, ready to outbid him.

The heat proved bearable this time of day, and he didn’t have to turn on the air conditioning in his truck. He remembered turning it off in their motel room yesterday, and the way he’d made Marissa’s body glisten beneath him as he’d made love to her. The hottest sex he’d ever had in his life. She was his match in every way. Something he never thought he’d find in a woman as incredible as her.

He pulled his truck into Tate’s driveway and parked. A little aggressive, but whatever. The lawyer had suggested the auction would start at seventy-grand. So cheap compared to Denver real estate he’d wanted to laugh, but the starting price reminded him how much these people had at stake, and how easy it would’ve been for Butcher to reclaim his old gangland. Regardless, he’d transferred 200k, in case the bidding turned hostile and the numbers rose higher than expected.

Thinking about what Marissa had said, about their lives being extra, no inexter—he searched for the word she’d used—inextricably linked through this house once he owned it. He disagreed. They were both attached to this town by the house, but not to each other. No one knew about her return besides Brittany. Marissa was tied to this place emotionally, but for now no records could trace her back here.

Although, if they ended up together by some miracle, somebody determined enough could trace the county mortgage records to his legal name. And find her through him. Shit.

Maybe Greenberg knew a way for him to buy this place under a different name? Like under the umbrella holdings of Soren Security?

Adam heard the crunch of car tires roll into the drive behind him, a shiny Mercedes Benz emblem glinting in his rearview mirror.
Speak of the devil.

They met in the center of the drive and shook hands. “I didn’t expect anyone to come so early,” Greenberg said. “But I’m glad to see you.”

“Nervous?” Adam asked with a grin.

Greenberg’s fingers twitched on the handle of his briefcase. “I’ve defended criminals in a packed courtroom who’ve perpetrated all manner of atrocious acts, but Butcher is a wildcard I can’t pin down. Let’s just say I’m relieved you’re here first.”

“I live to please.” Adam snorted at his own humor. “Is that why Tate sought you out? Because he expected Butcher might show?”

Greenberg inclined his head slightly.

“Right, I know. It’s confidential.” Adam stretched. “Did someone buy the coffee maker and coffee yesterday, or can I brew myself a pot?”

“No one may enter the premises during a sheriff’s auction. It’s all sight unseen.”

Annoyed, Adam pointed out, “Tons of people were here yesterday.”

“I can’t change the rules. That’s just how it’s done.”

Adam grunted. “So when does the sheriff show up?”

Greenberg checked his watch. “He should be here by now, actually.”

In the distance the telltale rumble of motorcycles advanced toward them like rolling thunder. Adam squinted at the unpleasant arrivals.

Leading the pack, a fire-engine red 4x4 truck
slowed on approach, the emergency red lights on the roof lifeless. The auxiliary vehicle headed up the motorcycle gang like a bizarre wedding car trailing aluminum cans.

What the hell? Then again, the gang had pocketed town officials before. Was this another show of force on Butcher’s part?

Whatever. Adam didn’t scare easily. Still, he had Marissa’s well-being to look out for, and he decided to call for backup, extra protection just in case.

So he sent a quick voice-to-text to his brother before the noise grew too loud.
Liam, get the jet ready.
Pull together a team. Slone’s pick for the bodyguards. I need you boys in Phoenix in two hours.

The phone buzzed in his palm.
U ok?

Need you here. Stat,
Adam responded, using one of Slone’s favorite terms
. Liam knew he never called for backup without good reason.

Done,
came Liam’s confirmation.

The tension in his chest eased a fraction. He slid his phone into his pocket. He crossed his arms, widened his stance, and glared at Butcher’s eyes hidden behind the yellow goggles.

“Come at me with all you got,” he said under his breath.

Motorcycle pipes drowned out his voice, but his stony expression made it clear.

He wasn’t backing down.

The sheriff fumbled a lame apology. Greenberg sized up the squat, balding man with a distasteful sidelong glance. Butcher walked up behind the sheriff with a bow-legged strut.

Butcher sneered at Adam. “The hell are you doing here, boy?”

Adam arched an eyebrow. “Not blowing sunshine up your ass, old man.”

“Okay, gentleman.” Greenberg set his briefcase on the hood of his car and stepped between them. “Let’s keep this civil.”

Glaring, Butcher muttered something about a shithead-trust-fund punk.

Adam smiled coldly. Didn’t say a word.
Didn’t need to.

“Let’s get this over with,” the sheriff grumbled. “The bidding starts at seventy-five thousand.”

Adam burst out laughing. He made a show of wiping away a fake tear. “Age before beauty,” he said, gesturing to Butcher to take the first bite.

Two of Butcher’s henchmen joined their leader, baring their teeth and twitching, hungry for violence like a rabid pit bulls. “Eighty grand,” Butcher snapped.

Uh-huh, shaking in my boots.
Adam shook his head slightly at the show of “force.” The crusty MC captain had no idea Adam had fended off real pit bulls as a bounty hunter—and much worse. He’d faced down men with twice the girth, guts and goons as Butcher.

“Do I have ninety-thousand?” the sheriff asked in a nervous voice.

Not bothering to uncross his arms, Adam raised two fingers.

A vein throbbed in Butcher’s temple. “Ninety-five.”

“Do I have one-hundred-thousand?”

Adam raised.

Butcher’s lips quivered and white spittle crusted at the corners. “One-ten.”

“Do I have one-fifteen?”

Adam nodded.

Eyes bulging from their sockets, face redder than road rash, Butcher shook with rage. He spat the cigar stub out of his mouth and hawked a wad. The yellow phlegm landed an inch from Adam’s boot. If it had hit any part of his body, Adam would’ve wiped it with Butcher’s ass.

Something wholly evil crackled in Butcher’s dark eyes. Even Greenberg took a step back from the volatile man. “One-twenty.”

The sheriff appeared baffled by the higher bids. “Do I hear one-twenty-five?”

Time to end this.
“One-fifty,” Adam busted out.

“One-hundred-
fifty?
Thousand?” the sheriff wheezed.

“You little punk—” Butcher charged, threw a punch.

Adam fielded it, flowed with the momentum, and twisted Butcher’s arm behind his back. He shoved the guy into the hands of his henchmen. “Get him off my property,” he told Butcher’s crew. “Before I toss him in jail for trespassing.”

“This ain’t over,” Butcher snarled. “I’ll have this goddamn house. It’s is
mine.
”

“No, actually. It’s mine. And you need to leave.” He checked his phone. “Two minutes ago.”

Butcher’s eyes blazed in the direction of the lawyer.

Greenberg confirmed, “Upon payment receipt, the Tate residence is officially sold. By law, everyone here
does
need to leave at his request.”

Tapping numbers on his phone, Adam announced, “Funds transferred. Deal done.”
Triumph settled like a cape of victory across his shoulders.
“So long, Butcher. Don’t let this town kick you in the ass on your way out.”

Butcher clenched his fists as his henchmen dragged him away by the elbows, fighting their resistance. “You’ll be sorry you ever crossed me, boy.”

“We’ll see.” Adam shrugged.
“So far, not impressed.”

Though that last dig might’ve tipped Butcher over the edge.

A lethal calm settled over the man. A feral sound grated from his throat. “I’m gonna
wash the streets of this town with your blood.”

The warning slid down Adam’s spine like the point of a knife. An unnerving experience, the first time Adam had tasted true wrath in a direct threat.

As the gang blasted their pipes and drove off in tight formation, Greenberg looked slightly sick. “Did you have to bait the badger?”

Adam rolled his shoulders trying to shake the sensation like someone had walked on his grave. “Better he takes it out on me than the people in this town.”

“I’m sorry to inform you, but you are a mere mortal, my friend,” Greenberg said.

“Yeah, but with my team behind me, I can kick some serious criminal butt. I’m heading to the bar. You’re welcome to join us. My brother is on his way with
my
version of killer crew.”

“I may.” Greenberg wiped his forehead with his silk pocket square. “I could use a drink. And a safe place to finish the paperwork on the mortgage title transfer. No telling how Butcher will retaliate.”

“We can handle him.”

Greenberg looked doubtful.

Adam counted on Liam to show up with his team in the next ninety minutes—before Butcher rode off the deep end,
dragging hellfire and fury through the eerily quiet streets.

*

“Grab the shovel.” Brittany pointed at the collection of yard tools in the corner of the tumble-down shed behind her trailer. “Never thought one of my dumb
ex’s schemes would come in handy one day.”

“What happened to Denny? I mean, he seemed like an okay guy.” Marissa caught Brittany’s glare and revised her statement. “Back in the day.”

Brittany took a drag off her cigarette,
exhaling a stream of smoke and derision. “He was the best of the worst.” She shrugged. “That’s not saying much around here.”

She rummaged behind several piles of junk as she talked.

“Denny got this hare-brained scheme, before I told him to take a hike off a cliff. He was gonna use a metal detector out in the desert and look for lost gold. As if the miners had accidentally dropped some for him to find all these years later.” She rolled her eyes. “I told him to go screw himself and the meth-head’s invisible leprechaun friend. You know, the little dude with the pot of gold who’d convinced him it was a good idea. Who the hell knows where he is now. I don’t care.”

Marissa was proud of her friend for taking the high road, even if it meant traveling alone. “Good for you.”

“Yeah, at least I don’t have to support our kids
and
him anymore.” She huffed. “I know that piece-of-crap metal detector is around here somewhere… Ha! Found it.” She held up the rusted equipment like she’d won the biggest prize at a carnival. “Not great, but it’ll do the job.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t tell Adam about our plan?”

“Is he the over-protective type?”

“Yes.”

“Then no. Not until we find something worth telling him about. Besides, your boyfriend’s bidding war has Butcher’s gang focused on Adam, not us. We can’t afford to waste time and lose our window of daylight and opportunity.”

“True.” Marissa licked her dry lips, thinking she should’ve brought a couple bottled waters. “You’re a resourceful person. I’ll bet you could make it anywhere. Have you ever considered getting out of this place?”

“And go where?” Having found what they came for, Brittany slammed the doors of the shed and the structure wobbled. She clicked the padlock. “Do you know how much it costs to move? To start over?”

“Not exactly,” Marissa admitted. As far as she knew, the government had covered those expenses as part of witness protection.

“Right. Because Tate made it happen
for
you. I don’t have those kinds of connections. I’m just glad he kept me on at his bar all these years. When tips didn’t make ends meet, he’d advance me a paycheck without keeping track. Gave me a full month’s rent in holiday bonuses.” She threw the equipment in the back of her station wagon. “All said and done, I’ve had it good working for him. I’m not complaining. But now…” They both climbed in to the car and shut their doors. “Now, with him gone, who knows?”

“Wait,” Marissa said. “Back up a second. Grandpa Tate made what happen for me?”

Brittany snuffed out her half-smoked cigarette in the overflowing car ashtray, then lit another. “The marshal arranged your relocation through the government. But Tate told the marshal to send you to college. At least, that’s what I know. They had some kind of arrangement, off the books. Tate stowed cash in the safe. Marshal man came by the bar every six months or so. Money exchanged hands. That sort of thing. I knew it was for you, when Tate said it was all off the record.”