His Wicked Games: A Billionaire Romance (The Cunningham Family #1)

If I thought Calder was magnificent before, it doesn't take long before I'm convinced he's a genuine sex god. A couple of hours after dinner, we lie tangled among the rumpled sheets, sticky with sweat and breathless from our exertions.

  “Wow,” I whisper into the darkness.

  Calder chuckles and pulls me closer to him. My arm rests across his chest, my leg across his thighs. I feel his lips press against the top of my head.

  “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” he murmurs against my hair. He runs his hand up my arm.

  I give a contented sigh. My entire body aches. Calder bent me into positions I've never even imagined before, let alone attempted, and my arms and legs feel like jelly. He brought me to the peak of ecstasy and back again, and my flesh still quivers at the memory.

  “You're a feisty thing,” he tells me. “Anyone who sees my back will think I was attacked by an animal.”

  I start to pull away, embarrassed, but he laughs and grabs me closer again.

  “That's a good thing. I like a woman who's not afraid to get wild, and you, sweet Lily, are the wildest one I've ever met.”

  Now it's my turn to laugh, and he grabs me and kisses me. I draw him closer. Maybe this is just sex. And maybe I don’t really know him that well. But there's a part of me, deep down, that knows I've glimpsed a deeper side of him, however briefly, and I know I've exposed a bit of myself to him, too.

  And that terrifies me.

  “Go to sleep,” he says, and kisses me again. “I plan to wake you again in an hour.”

  I bite my lip, and he gives a low chuckle and closes his eyes. In minutes he's asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my arm. I'm exhausted, too, but I know slumber won't come for me anytime soon. I've got too much on my mind.

  I wait for a few more moments, just to make sure he's completely out, before I slowly ease my way out of his arms. There's just something too… intimate about lying entwined while we sleep. This is just sex. Just a few crazy days of indulging some wild lust. After I leave this place, I'll never have a reason to contact Calder ever again, and he has no reason to contact me either. I need to remember that.

  I climb out of bed and fumble around in the darkness for my jeans. I finally find them in a rumpled pile at the foot of the bed, and I reach in the pocket and pull out my phone.

  My heart almost stops when I see the number of missed calls. I thought I heard my ringtone go off a couple of hours ago, but Calder and I were a little preoccupied at the time. Now I wonder how I managed to miss it ringing eight times over the course of the evening.

  All of the calls are from Garrett.

  I panic. Has something happened at the Center? Or to Dad? I click into voicemail and hold my breath as it connects.

  “You have eight new messages,” the automated voice tells me.

  “Hey, Lils,” Garrett's message begins. He sounds perfectly calm. “Just wanted to check in, since you haven’t returned my last couple of calls. I talked to your dad, and he says you’re stuck in Barberville because of the weather. I'm worried about you. Give me a call, okay?”

  In the next one he's starting to sound a little agitated.

  “Hey, Lils, it's me. I haven't heard from you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Will you call me and let me know where you are? I have the Jeep, remember? I can probably manage the roads. But I need to know where you are. Now's not the time to be stubborn. You asked for my help with the Center. I'm not going to let you shut me out again. Call me back.”

  With each subsequent message I can tell he's getting progressively more frustrated, and by the sixth he's starting to sound livid.

  “Dammit, Lils, don’t leave me hanging,” he says. “I know you’re up to something. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but this is ridiculous. Where the hell are you?”

  But it’s the next one that really ticks me off.

  “What the fuck is going on? Fuck this! I'm not your fucking puppet! You can't just expect me to do you favors and then fucking blow me off. I deserve some basic fucking respect. Excuse me for giving a fuck.”

  It makes me so angry that I almost don't listen to the final message, but it starts before I can hang up.

  “Look, Lils, I'm sorry,” Garrett says. He sounds defeated. “You just drive me crazy, you know that? Call me, please. Please. I promise I'll do what I can for the Center. Just call me and tell me what you're doing. I know you, Lils. You get these crazy ideas in your head sometimes. I just want to make sure you're safe.” There's a long pause, and then he sighs deeply. “Please, Lils. I miss you. I still—”

  I hang up before I can hear the rest and throw the phone down on the carpet. I'm so upset that I'm shaking. What the hell does he think he’s doing, blowing up my phone like that? We’re not together anymore. I’m not obligated to answer his calls, and I’m certainly not obligated to tell him where I am at any given minute.

  I've seen Garrett's temper before. It never reached the point of physical violence, thank God, but there was plenty of abuse on the verbal end. There's no talking to him when he gets worked up. It's like he morphs into a completely different person—one that completely terrifies me.

  I knew it was a bad idea to ask him. Fuck me and my stupid, desperate decision making.

  I'm having trouble standing still, so I grab Calder's shirt from the ground and slip it on. I march over to the table, grab our half-finished bottle of wine from dinner, and head over to the double French doors at the far side of the room. I don't care that it's raining. I pull open the doors and step out onto the balcony.

  The cold, wet air is a welcome slap in the face. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, and I wonder if that means I'll be able to go home tomorrow. I lean against the railing and take a swig of wine right from the bottle.

  This whole thing is a mess, and I'm not sure there's any way out at this point. The Center isn't any closer to getting help. Garrett is back in my life—and worse than ever. And on top of it all, Calder has turned my insides into a big confused pile of mush.

  I take another swig and stare out across the land behind the house. If there are any lights out in the garden, they've already been shut off for the night, but I can just make out a great dark section that I suspect is the hedge maze Calder boasted about. If I'd come here under different circumstances, I have no doubt I'd be delighted by the romance of it all, but I'm not sure what I feel anymore.

  My body has never responded to anyone as it does to Calder. And it's not just the way my flesh prickles when he's near, or the way my breath seems to stop when he kisses me. There's something that coils in my belly when we're close to each other, something more than just physical attraction. Every time I see a glimpse of pain in his eyes, or the darkness of a suppressed memory dance across his features, the coil tightens. There's the potential for something else here, something deeper, but I know it's stupid to indulge those feelings. That course can only end in heartbreak.

  The situation with Garrett only emphasizes that case. I knew it was stupid to call him again, even with completely innocent intentions, and it still blew up in my face. I need to start listening to my gut and stop allowing myself to be swayed by desperation or attraction or whatever it is that keeps getting me into trouble.

  I take another swig of wine and close my eyes. I force myself to focus on the feeling of the cool rain hitting my skin, of the drops sliding down my face and neck. Not for the first time this weekend, I'm struck by the sensation that this is all just some odd, vivid dream, and that any moment I'll wake and go off to work at the Center and all of these emotions rushing through me will be forgotten by the time I've finished my first cup of coffee.

  “Drinking without me?”

  Calder's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. When I turn, he's standing in the doorway, heavy-lidded and looking absolutely delectable, for all that he’s unfortunately decided to pull on a pair of pants before joining me in the rain. I turn back toward the rail and take another gulp of wine, fighting down the surge that rises in my belly
at the sight of him.

  “I didn't want to wake you up,” I say without looking at him.

  He joins me at the railing. “Aren't you cold out here?”

  I shake my head. “It feels nice.”

  He holds out his hand for the wine bottle, and I pass it over. He takes a drink and hands it back.

  “It's not often that I fall asleep with a woman in my arms and wake up to an empty bed.”

  “No?” I ask. “Is it usually the other way around?”

  I stare down at the wine bottle, but I can feel Calder's gaze on me, and I know he's trying to read me in the darkness.

  “That's not what I meant,” he says finally. “I'll admit, men have a reputation for preferring sex to the intimacy that might come after, but it's rare to meet a woman with such sentiments.”

  “I'm not sure what you're suggesting. I couldn't sleep. That's all.”

  He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and I can't help myself.

  “And even if I am 'avoiding intimacy' or whatever it is you're accusing me of, why does it matter?” I say. “I have no misconceptions about what's going on here. Why should I act like I have feelings for you when we're just fucking?”

  “Is that what you think? That we're just fucking?”

  I blink up at him in the rain, and I can't keep the shock from my voice. “Isn't it?”

  Again he doesn't answer immediately, and I'm not sure whether it's panic or some other emotion that makes my chest contract. When he finally answers, he avoids the question completely.

  “Tell me, what happened with that guy you were with at your fundraiser?”

  His query hits so close to all of my angst of the past couple of days that for a moment I'm stunned into silence.

  “How—why does it even matter?” I say finally.

  Calder takes the bottle from my hand and has another swig of wine.

  “I told you that I didn’t approach you because I wasn’t looking to start a fight,” he says, “but that’s not the whole truth. The other reason I didn’t say anything to you was because I knew it would have been a lost cause. You only had eyes for him.”

  Was I that obvious? I wonder. Had I been that caught up in Garrett? I think back to that night, to everything that had been going on between Garrett and me the time. Arts & Hearts had fallen only a month before our breakup. I'd sensed something wrong between us for weeks already, but I’d still been desperate to save our relationship. I loved him so much—stupidly so, I now realize—and I wanted to make things work.

  It was Valentine's Day, and I felt gorgeous in my black gown—not to mention immensely proud of what I'd accomplished with the event. That night Garrett was his normal, charming self, but nothing more. He laughed at my dad's jokes, listened attentively to the stories of our guests and patrons. But there'd been nothing for me. No secret smile, no admiring glances, no kind words about the work I'd done—or even appreciative comments about my slinky dress. I was a pathetic idiot. I should have realized it was over then. Hell, I should have dumped his ass ages before that.

  Just thinking about it makes me sick.

  “We broke up,” I tell Calder. “Not long after the event. I thought we’d discussed this already.”

  He takes another gulp of wine and passes it back to me. “I just wanted to make sure.”

  “Don't worry,” I assure him, wrapping my hands around the rain-soaked bottle. “I'm free to fuck whoever I like.”

  “That's not what I meant.”

  “No?”

  He gives a humorless chuckle. “Lily, that guy was an asshole. Anyone could see it.”

  Except me, apparently. And my dad. And the half-dozen friends and guests who'd complimented me on landing the handsome, successful journalist. I believe the phrase “great catch” was thrown around more than once.

  But Calder's not done.

  “He's the kind of guy who just likes to hear himself talk. He expects everyone to fawn over him, and most of the time, people do. He's happy as long as he thinks you need him. Meanwhile he couldn’t care less about what you actually think or want or feel. It's a very one-sided sort of relationship, I imagine.”

  He's so on the nose about Garrett that I don't even know what to say. He got all that from watching us interact for one evening?

  “Though I bet,” Calder continues, “that as soon as he thinks you're moving on, or that you don't need him anymore, he changes his tune completely. Guys like that hate it when they realize you don't need them anymore.”

  I think of Garrett's messages this evening, and I know Calder has it exactly right.

  “It's over,” I assure him again. “Don't worry. I have no misconceptions about him anymore.”

  “Good. You deserve better than that. You deserve a guy who appreciates you, who considers himself lucky as fuck to know that you chose to be with him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Are we in an after-school special now?”

  “I'm serious, Lily. You're a remarkable woman.”

  “I don't even know why we're having this conversation,” I say. “I thought we were just fucking?”

  Something flashes in his eyes—is that disappointment? Anger? Something darker? I don’t trust myself to know. I wait for him to argue, but instead he pulls me hard against him.

  “Just fucking, huh?” he breathes against my hair. “Then maybe we should be doing a little more of that.”

  He kisses me, and heat explodes through my body. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I suck it between my teeth. He moans and grabs my ass, grinding against me.

  Forget all the rest. This I understand. This I want. I twine my hands in his hair and curl my fingers against his scalp, holding his mouth against mine. There are no questions, no judgment, no exes. Just desire.

  He breaks away from me, but only enough to yank his shirt off of me. He tosses it aside, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom. He’s prepared, as always. He pushes down his pants in one movement, but before I can admire his naked form he grabs me, twists me around, and pushes me forward. My hands grasp at the railing, but he catches me by the hips, drawing my ass back toward him. His hand closes around the back of my neck, holding me bent over the railing. My fingers curl around the rail, and I lean my head forward to rest my forehead on the wet wrought iron.

  The hand that doesn't hold my neck slips across the curve of my ass, down between my legs. His fingers dance across me, gently exploring, sliding up and down until my entire body is quivering. My skin has grown so hot that the rain now feels icy-cold on my back.

  “You want to be fucked, Lily?” he rasps over the rain.

  I nod.

  “Answer me,” he growls, tightening his hold on my neck.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, please, yes.”

  There's a rush of cold air as he stands upright again, and I hardly have time to register the cold rain on my back once more before he rams into me. I suck in a breath and my fingers tighten on the railing.

  “Is this what you want?” Calder says. He withdraws and then thrusts again, driving more deeply this time.

  I let out a moan.

  “Say it,” he commands roughly. “Say it!”

  “Yes. Yes, I want this.” My voice cracks on the last word.

  He removes his hand from my neck, but only so he can grab my hips with both hands. His fingers dig into my skin as he drives into me another time.

  “What do you want, Lily? Say the whole thing.”

  I squeeze the rail. “I want you to fuck me.”

  He groans, and then he loses all semblance of control. He thrusts, again and again with wild abandon, and it's all I can do to keep my grip on the railing. I'm gasping for breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside of me. In this position, he feels deeper in me than he ever has before.

  “Is…this…what…you…want?” Calder grunts. His fingers dig into my hips.

  “Yes,” I rasp. “Fuck me, yes.”

  He continues to pound into me, and it's all I can do not
to continue my cursing. I can feel my body tensing and tightening, building toward release. I press my forehead against the rail, trying to keep myself together.

  But Calder has another idea. He reaches up and grabs my hair, pulling my head up. There's a sharp pain in my scalp, but I don't care.

  He thrusts again, and I cry out as my climax hits me hard. I grip the railing with white knuckles and bite down on the back of my hand to keep from screaming. From the way Calder groans behind me, I know he feels the way I'm tightening and pulsing around his cock.

  He gives a low, rough chuckle. He enjoys watching me fall apart in pleasure.

  “Again?” he asks, continuing his rhythmic movements.

  It would be so easy to let him take me to the edge once more. My flesh craves it. My heart is beating so fast I'm afraid it's going to burst right out of my ribs, and I'm struggling to catch a solid breath. Calder's grip tightens, and his speed increases. He's not going to show me any mercy.

  But as much as I love letting him control these intense encounters, suddenly I'm struck by an urge that I can't allow myself to ignore.

  “Wait,” I gasp. “Calder, wait.”

  He slows. “Don't worry, your body can handle it. The second one will be even better.”

  “No, that's not what I mean.” I twist myself away from him. I'm not prepared for the sudden rush of cold I feel when we're separated, or the weakness in my body when I pull myself upright.

  Calder stands rigid in front of me, and I can only imagine what he's thinking and feeling right now.

  “Get in the chair,” I say.

  “What?” His voice is tight.

  “You heard me.” My voice is stronger, steadier than my body feels right now. “Get in the chair.”

  This time my meaning sinks in, and there’s a touch of amusement in Calder’s voice when he speaks again.

  “I'm supposed to be the one in charge tonight. That was the bargain.”

  I desperately grasp at the tiny bud of confidence the wine left behind.

  “I don't think you know what you're missing,” I say in my sultriest voice.

  He steps closer to me, pressing me back up against the rail. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

  I reach up and run a lone finger down his body, starting at his throat and ending at the base of his hard length.

  “We're not properly fucking if you never let me on top,” I say as I wrap my fingers around him.

  He laughs, but it’s a rough, hungry sound.

  “A valid point.”

  He steps away from me, and I revel at the sense of power I feel as I watch him settle obediently in one of the balcony’s chairs.

  I take a deep breath. I'll admit it: I prefer when he's in control, when I'm at the mercy of his hands and mouth and cock. But there's something deep inside me that needs to do this, that needs to control him for a moment.

  I move slowly toward him, and when I’m standing in front of his chair, I reach out and place my hands on his broad shoulders. His muscles flex slightly beneath my touch. I step forward, straddling him with one leg on either side of the chair, and then I run my fingers down his arms, over his smooth hot skin. I can feel him watching me intently, even though I can hardly see his face in the dark. I can hear his heavy breathing over the rain.

  I move one hand to his chest and slide it down his stomach, echoing my touch of a moment ago. When I reach the base of his cock, I find him still rock-hard and ready. For all his initial hesitation, he still seems pretty excited to let me take the reins. I curl my fingers around him and slide my hand gently down his length. He's still slick from being inside me.

  “Maybe I should torture you a little,” I say, taking my time as I slide my hand up his length again. “Maybe I should give you a taste of your own medicine.”

  He moans, and his hands fly up and grab me by the hips.

  “You're already torturing me,” he says, his voice tight.

  I smile. It's incredibly arousing to be the one in charge for once. I love watching him crumble beneath my touch. I lower myself a little more on his lap, so I'm nearly sitting on his upper thighs.

  “Not nearly enough.” I slide myself forward so that he can feel my slickness against his legs, so that my tenderest spot rubs up against the base of him. He groans and tightens his grip on my hips, urging me with his hands.

  “I'm in charge here,” I remind him. “We're doing this at my speed.”

  He lets out a long, shaky breath, and I know it's taking all of his self-control to keep from throwing me down and having his way with me.

  I lean forward and brush my lips along his neck. Once, twice, three times. He sucks in a breath, but that's not enough. I move up to his ear, and then I run my tongue along its curved edge. He squirms a little beneath me, and his fingers tighten on me yet again. Finally I slip my tongue into the ear itself and swirl it around.

  Calder lets out a groan.

  “Enough,” he rasps. “Lily, please.” He squirms beneath me.

  I'm tempted to give him what he wants, but I'm not done playing just yet.

  I stop my gentle strokes and grip him by the shoulders once more. I raise myself slightly, shifting until I'm poised directly over his waiting cock. He moves, trying to drive into me, but I twist away and shake my head.

  “We're doing this at my pace,” I tell him, parroting back his own words from earlier. This time, when I position myself, he sits still, though I can tell by his low, throaty growl exactly what he thinks of my teasing.

  I lower myself slowly, until only the tip of him is inside of me. His shoulders are stiff beneath my hands, and I know he must be going crazy with self-restraint. Good. Let him suffer a little for all those times he's had me under his control. I lower myself a little more, and this time he leans forward to claim my neck. He nips at my throat, urging me onward as I continue my slow descent.

  By the time he's all the way inside of me, his breath is ragged, and I know there are teeth marks all over my skin. His skin is blazing hot beneath my hands, and his body is slick with warm sweat, even in this drizzle. From the stiffness in his body, I suspect he's only barely contained. Truth be told, I'm having a little trouble controlling myself.

  “How do you like it?” I whisper into his ear. “How does it feel to be at my mercy, for once?” I rise again, just as slowly, and when Calder doesn't answer me immediately, I know he's struggling. I lean forward and give his ear a playful bite.

  “You're cruel,” he says finally. “You're the cruelest, most infuriating woman I've ever met.” One of his hands moves to my neck, and he pulls me down into a kiss. I let him. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and bear down with my teeth, just a little, just enough to make him moan again. He pulls away once more and begins tracing a path of kisses along my jawline.

  “You're also the wildest,” he says between kisses. “And the sexiest. And the most utterly intoxicating…”

  His words make the blood rush beneath my skin. I don't know how much longer I can hold back. I begin to lower myself again slowly, but every touch of Calder's fingers and lips makes it that much more difficult to maintain this measured pace.

  “Fuck, Lily,” he says. “You're killing me.” This time he thrusts upward, burying himself in me before I have the chance to stop him.

  And that’s it.

  I begin to move against him, hard and fast, and he moans and echoes my movements, rising to meet me with his body. My fingers dig in his shoulders, and I throw my head back, letting the rain fall down on my face as I ride him like I've never ridden a man before. Every jerk of my body wrings a grunt from his throat, and I'm matching his sounds of pleasure with cries of my own. I feel like a wild woman, a crazed, sexual being who only wants one thing and will do anything to get it.

  We grind against each other until I know nothing but the heat and friction and pleasure. There's just me and his hands and his cock and his hot mouth moving across my exposed throat. He bites down on the tender flesh, and I cry out and move f
aster against him.

  My inner walls are starting to contract. Calder seems to notice, because he groans and thrusts more violently against me. I'm close to climaxing again but I want him to explode first.

  The next time he thrusts, I stop moving. Instead, I squeeze the muscles between my legs, tightening myself around him.

  He growls.

  I squeeze them again, and again, and the third time he gives another quick thrust before going rigid. Feeling him come beneath me sends me over the edge myself, and I cry out as I join him on the rippling waves of orgasm.

  When the pleasure ends, I collapse against him.

  “Well,” Calder murmurs in my ear after a moment. His voice is rough. “I think I’m going to like this ‘just fucking’ arrangement very much.”

  I know that I was the one who brought it up in the first place, but something twists a little in my stomach at his words. I'm not sure what's going on with me right now, but every sexual encounter with this man only seems to leave me more confused. At first, I clung to my hatred and told myself that my lust was only an unfortunate complication of the situation. But the more I indulge my desires with Calder, the more I find myself drawn to the man himself. I’ve caught glimpses of his own pain and frustration, and every time he holds me close like this and whispers sweet things in my ear, I find myself wishing I knew more of him. There’s a softness to him, but it’s hidden behind some emotions that I can’t even begin to decipher.

  But even though I’m starting to recognize my own feelings, I know they’re wrong. This man is responsible for the Center’s financial troubles. It doesn’t matter what’s happened between us this weekend—I can’t forgive him for that.

  I close my eyes and rest my forehead on his shoulder. I don’t even try to respond to his last statement. I know I’ll never find the words.

  Instead, I try to focus on the cold of the rain on my back and try to ignore the cold that's taken root in my belly.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN