The Undercover Billionaire Page 24
She’d cried a little about that, but then had decided she wasn’t going to shed any more tears for Cesare de Santis. She wasn’t going to waste any more grief.
So she’d opened another bottle of beer and had drunk it slowly, not even registering the taste as it went down, trying to decide whether or not she’d use Wolf’s absence to get a warning to her father. Even though he’d betrayed her, she didn’t want him to die. Answer for his crimes, yes, but justice in the form of a judge and jury, not in the form of executioner Wolf Tate.
There wasn’t much point looking for evidence that he hadn’t murdered Noah, not now, so she didn’t bother looking, drinking her beer and trying to figure out what to say. Getting around Wolf’s blocks had been tricky, but not too difficult—she’d picked up a bit of coding experience here and there in the course of working for her father—so obviously sending an email was the way to go.
She had to warn him. Because quite apart from the fact that she didn’t want her father to die, she also didn’t want Wolf to be the one to take his life. She had the feeling that Wolf had taken lives before, in the course of his SEAL operations. But that was war. This wasn’t. This would be murder, pure and simple, and she didn’t want him to have to bear that as well as all the other things he was dealing with. Because despite everything, she cared about him.
Eventually, she settled on: Dad. I’m safe. But he’s coming for you. Protect yourself.
She probably should have told him where she was, but the moment she’d started to enter her location, she’d stopped, a strange reluctance overcoming her.
If her father knew where she was, he’d sweep in and rescue her, and he’d hurt Wolf into the bargain and she didn’t want that. She’d rather stay here, as Wolf’s prisoner, than to have anything happen to him. And if that was twisted, then hell, it was twisted.
But he’d been her friend long before he’d been her kidnapper, and those feelings didn’t go away just like that.
In fact, she’d thought she was maybe okay with where she was. That maybe she didn’t want to be rescued at all. Because what else was there for her to go back to? Her father’s house. Her father’s job. Everything she did, her whole goddamn life, was centered around her father. And quite frankly, now that she thought about it, it was a narrow, limited kind of life. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to. At all.
Not that she had any idea what kind of life she’d have as Wolf’s prisoner, but it had to be better than that, didn’t it?
So she’d stopped short of giving away her location, leaving the warning as it was as she’d drained the rest of her beer. Sitting there with only the sound the water lapping at the hull.
She hadn’t tested the door, she knew it would be locked. And all it had taken was a couple of minutes of silence for her to be fully aware that Wolf was still not back. That he’d left upset and in pain, and she didn’t know where he was.
He was gone a while, leaving her to sit there, an ache in her heart, contemplating a third beer. Then she’d heard the key in the lock and everything in her had leapt as the door opened and he’d stepped into the cabin.
Tall, massively built, the dark tips of his Mohawk nearly sweeping the ceiling, those jewel bright eyes meeting hers. He was angry, she could feel it radiating from him like a physical force, and she could see the remains of pain and grief in his gaze too.
And all she’d been able to think of to say was to tell him that he’d been right about her father all along. That he wasn’t alone in being betrayed by someone who was supposed to love him, that she’d been betrayed too.
She hadn’t known she’d wanted to touch him until he’d listened to what she had to say without a word. And she’d seen the wordless sympathy in his eyes. Then she’d found herself closing the distance between them, because she was suddenly cold and he was nothing but raw heat.
He’d told her not to touch him when he’d left, but when he reached out to take her face between his palms, she knew that wherever he’d gone and whatever he’d done, he’d come to some sort of decision.
Then he’d told her what it was and she hadn’t been surprised. With his world collapsing down around his ears, he’d held on to the one thing that made any sense to him. His mission.
She was glad he’d been clear with her about that, because it had helped her make a decision of her own. She would stop him. Somehow, she would. She couldn’t let him murder her father in cold blood. She just couldn’t.
But until then, they had this moment.
This slow, deep aching kiss. Where neither of them had to think about fathers or missions or death. Where there was only the warmth of another person’s lips and the sweet taste of them. The slick glide of tongues and the hot press of bodies.
His hands were so gentle, the way he kissed her so sweet. He was such a big man, contained the potential for so much violence, and yet he handled her as if she was made of fine china.
He handled her as if she was precious.
Tears prickled behind her eyes, her throat unexpectedly tight. She wasn’t precious to him though, was she? Everything she’d thought they’d had between had been a lie.
You weren’t supposed to be in love anymore. This isn’t supposed to matter.
And yet it did matter. It did.
As if he’d sensed her distress, Wolf lifted his mouth from hers, those big hands cradling her jaw, his gaze searching her face. “What’s up?”
She didn’t want to tell him, not given what it would reveal. But the time for holding back had long since passed. “Was it ever real?” Her voice wasn’t quite steady. “Our friendship, I mean. Did you ever care about me? Or was I just another means to an end?”
Something shifted in his face, a flash of pain, of shame. He didn’t answer immediately, his thumbs moving on her jaw, stroking her. Making goose bumps rise all over her body.
“I remember you liked Hades and Persephone,” he said, his voice soft. “Because you thought Persephone got everything she wanted in the end. The guy, the summer, seeing her mom. And when I told you that was great, but she still had to spend half her life in the Underworld, you said ‘You’re assuming she didn’t want that.’ I thought that was smart. I just liked Theseus and the Minotaur because he got to kill the monster.” One hand moved to brush back her hair from her forehead. “And I remember you telling me about one of your tutors. And how he sniffed a lot and made a mistake marking one of your algebra tests. Then there was that day you talked about your mom. About how she used to let you into her closet so you could look at all her pretty dresses. Sometimes she’d let you try on her shoes too, and the thing you really missed about her was her hugs. So I gave you a hug, because you looked so sad I couldn’t stand it.” One finger eased a lock of hair behind her hair. “I remember once we had an argument about The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. I preferred The Hobbit because it had a dragon in it, and you tried to argue that The Lord of the Rings was better and quoted some Elvish poetry at me, like that was supposed to make me change my mind.”
He remembered. He remembered everything.
Her throat constricted even further, so she could barely breathe. Had to force the words out. “And you just said, ‘Yeah, but dragons.’”
“First time I’d ever seen you speechless.” His mouth curled in a smile that made her heart race. “You always had something to say, always had an opinion and were always ready to argue for it. You were so smart. I was so in awe of you. But the really great thing about you, Liv, was that you never talked to me like I was stupid. You always talked to me as if I was as smart as you were. I liked that. I liked that a lot.” His thumbs stroked over and over on her jaw, gentle movements, caresses. “I liked that you always wanted to know what I thought about something and you always listened to what I had to say. I remember once trying to sell Nine Inch Nails to you, because the lyrics were so cool, just as good as the folky chick stuff you listened to. I could tell you didn’t want to, but next time I visited, you started into this great fucking
diatribe about one of their songs.”
She couldn’t stop it this time, the tear that slid down her cheek and she couldn’t speak, not when he was holding her like that, touching her like that. Telling her about all the things they’d talked about in the library of her father’s house all those years ago.
“I don’t remember that,” she croaked.
He gave a soft laugh. “It was quite something. You were so pretty when you got wound up—I remember thinking that too.” The smile faded from his face. “I don’t remember much about your emails after I joined the Navy. I had too much stuff going on, I think. But there were a couple that stuck in my mind. When you told me that you weren’t going to study history after all. That your Dad wanted you to study business instead. I felt pissed about that.”
She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken anyway, and then all possibility of speech vanished altogether when he ran a gentle finger down the side of her cheek, tracing the path of her tear.
“I tried to tell myself that being friends with you was just a job, that I couldn’t get too attached. Dad warned me that it could happen and that I had to keep some distance. But I couldn’t. Not with you. I liked you. I liked you a lot. I liked sitting in that library talking with you. Back in the hotel, when I told you the truth, I kept telling myself that it wasn’t real. That I didn’t care.” His fingers tightened fractionally on her jaw. “But I was just trying to protect myself. Because no matter how many times I told myself it wasn’t real, that you were only a means to an end, it didn’t feel like it. And in hurting you, I was hurting myself.”
Another tear slid down her cheek. She wanted him to stop talking and yet never stop.
Intensity glittered in his eyes, the force of his will suddenly palpable in the air around them, violent and strong, totally at odds with the way he held her. “You were my friend, Liv.” His voice had gotten hoarse, but she could hear the hard edge of certainty in it. “I cared about you. And I still do. It was real, baby. It was all real.”
Her heart knew then. Her heart recognized the boy in the library. He was still there, shining in the eyes of the man, the boy she’d fallen in love with. Which made the man standing in front of her, holding her, not the stranger she’d thought he was.
He was and would always be Wolf.
And she loved him.
She should never have doubted herself.
The distance between them felt too great, so she lifted herself up on her toes, closing the gap, pressing her mouth to his. But that wasn’t enough either, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her body against all that heat, trying to kiss him harder, deeper. His hands cradling her jaw slid gently down her neck to her shoulders, then further down in a long, slow caress to rest on her hips.
Then in a casual display of strength, he picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all. She spread her legs instinctively, wrapping them around his lean waist, arching again against his rock-hard torso.
The warmth of his palms cupping the bare skin of her butt lit up every nerve ending she had, his kiss turning demanding and raw. And she returned it, desperation beginning to pull tight.
He was so strong he could probably take her like this, holding her without any support. She could slide right down on him, grind herself against him, ride him.… God, she wanted to.
Her hands reached down to the button on his jeans, fumbling with it, getting it open, sliding her fingers over the taut plane of his stomach and down to curl around the rapidly hardening length of his cock.
He groaned against her mouth, a shudder going through that massive, muscled body as she got his zipper down, tilting her pelvis so she could grind her clit against his erection, craving some relief. Wanting him so badly she could barely think.
She pulled away a little, kissing his jaw, the side of his neck, tasting his skin. “Like this,” she whispered. “I want you like this.”
He gave another deep groan, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Believe me, baby, so do I. But I need a condom and unless you’ve got one somewhere handy, we’re gonna have to move.”
She didn’t have one, but by then she didn’t care how he took her. She just wanted him inside her as quickly as possible. So she didn’t protest as he turned and walked with her out of the galley, moving through to the stateroom, taking her down on the bed.
She lay there on her back, her breathing wild as he very carefully began to open the buttons of the shirt she was wearing, peeling it off her shoulders and away, leaving her naked. Then he knelt there, straddling her hips, and simply looked at her.
His gaze burned, made flames lick her skin, made her feel restless and demanding, but she let him look because the heat in his eyes, the desire, filled up a part of her she hadn’t known was empty.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So fucking beautiful.”
Only Wolf could make a curse word sound like the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.
She reached out her arms to him. “Come here. I want you.”
“Wait.” He pulled his hoodie up and off in a single fluid movement, chucking it down beside the bed, revealing the sculpted, muscled lines of his chest. His dog tags hung between his pecs and she couldn’t resist sitting up and reaching to touch them, grip them. She met his gaze. “I said, come here.” Then she used them to pull him down so she was on her back and he was braced above her, the heat of his body so close to hers it was almost torture.
“You think you can order me around, huh?” His voice was deep and dark with heat. But there was a smile turning one side of his beautiful mouth. “I might have to punish you for that.”
Electricity shot down her spine and her fingers tightened on his tags. “Do it. I can take anything you give me.”
Flame leapt in his eyes, and suddenly her mouth was crushed under his, and he was kissing her hard and desperate and rough.
It was thrilling, exciting, and she gave as good as she got, biting his bottom lip as the kiss became consuming, one hand gripping his tags, the other digging into his shoulder.
He cursed then broke away, reaching over for the drawer in the headboard and getting out another condom packet. Seconds later he’d gotten rid of his clothes and was kneeling over her again, his hands shaking as he rolled the condom down.
She tried to help, but he wasn’t having any of it, knocking her hands away and then pulling her beneath him, pinning her to the bed as his weight came down on hers.
He didn’t wait, gripping her hips tightly as he thrust hard into her, but by then she didn’t want him to wait. She gasped at the sweet burn of him inside her, arching up as he began to move, the delicious friction making her tremble.
Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she held on tight, because he wasn’t going slow this time and he wasn’t holding back. Deep. Hard. Fast.
The metal of his tags dragged over her skin, brushing against one nipple, sending another arrow of heat to join the fire building inside her.
He didn’t kiss her, merely looked down into her face as he slammed himself into her, his own features drawn tight with desire, with hunger. Pinning her in place with his gaze as surely as he pinned her with his cock.
God, he was amazing. So intense. So beautiful.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels pressing hard against the tight muscles of his butt, moving with him, trying to match his pace. But he was wild and she couldn’t do it, shaking as he slipped his hand between her thighs and stroked in time with his thrusts.
The orgasm broke over her without warning, making her shut her eyes and cry out, her thighs quaking and her heart feeling like it was going to pound its way out of her chest. And before she’d quite recovered from that one, he slid his hands beneath her butt and lifted her hips, tilting them back before shoving his shoulders beneath her knees and her thighs now up around his ears. She groaned as the position let him slid even deeper inside her, trembling in reaction as his movements became sharper, harder.
It was so good. It
was too much. She couldn’t handle it.
“Wolf…” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Wolf … I can’t…”
“Yeah, you can.” He drove inside her, over and over, stoking that fire until it blazed again. “You can take anything I give you, right?”
And she did.
He rode her hard and deep and long, the agonizing friction and the weight of him on her, grinding down on her, tearing a second orgasm from her. It made her scream, the sound echoing around the cabin, and only then did he let himself go, his breath coming in short, hard pants in her ear. His movements got jerky and out of rhythm before he thrust one last time, so deep it was nearly painful, then went still, his body shuddering. A low, tortured sound escaped him and his teeth closed on her shoulder, making her shake right along with him.
And like she had before, that last time in bed, she wrapped her arms around him. And brought him home.
* * *
Wolf couldn’t move. It was like every single one of his muscles had lost the power to function properly. Except he was going to need to move, because Olivia was under him, and if he didn’t, he’d probably suffocate her or crush her, or something equally as hideous.
Forcing himself into motion, he rolled to the side, gathering her up in his arms and taking her with him, reluctant to give up the simple joy of having her bare skin against his. Then he groaned, because he had a condom to get rid of and he didn’t want to do that either.
Olivia folded her arms on his chest then rested her chin on them, smiling at him. “What’s that noise for?”
“Fucking condom.” Gently he nudged at her to move. “Gotta get rid of it. Don’t go away, though, okay?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not going anywhere.”
He grinned then made himself shift, going into the tiny bathroom to get rid of the stupid condom, before coming back to the bed. He propped himself up with some pillows against the headboard this time, pulling Olivia into his arms and adjusting her so she was lying down the length of his body, her sweet warmth and soft curves against every part of him.