COME WHEN CALLED #7, The Sunrise (Billionaire & Biker MMF Menage Romance Serial) (2 page)

He entered her again like he couldn’t stand not being inside her, but he held still in her while he touched her tender bottom, tracing the pink marks on her skin, his breathing heavy. Soon, with a moan, he began thrusting again.

He rocked against her urgently, as if she hadn’t just made him come only a few hours before. As he sank into her, he kept repeating, “Yes, yesss.” Her pleasure built quickly with each stroke. Ford was ravaging her with such fervor he seemed to be barely in control, and Ford was always in control.

In a ragged voice, his lips right next to her ear as his hips slammed against her ass, he asked, “When you were tied to this desk and I punished you, did you want me to fuck you before I let you go?”

“God yes,” she answered truthfully, without hesitation. “I wanted you to fuck me just like this—from behind. I couldn’t see you back there and I couldn’t stop you. I wanted you just to take me while I was tied up.” Her voice jumped in rhythm as his thrusts jarred her body, but he had heard her and it was enough for him. She felt him grow larger inside her and he pounded deeper, his fingers digging into her hips.

She knew they were both thinking of him taking her while she was tied up and helpless, and the thought made them both come, him only a moment after her. The reverberations of her orgasm were still pulsing through her as his cock started pumping cum deep inside her at the point of his own orgasm.

When he was finally done, he leaned over her, holding himself up with his arms, catching his breath. Slowly, he pulled out, and she grabbed the beach towel out of her bag and used it to clean up. He used the other end of the towel to dry himself while Evie arranged her bathing suit back into place. The hem of his shirt had gotten wet, she noticed, since he’d been in too much of a hurry to take it off first. He touched the spot and cursed, excusing himself to the bathroom.

When he emerged, looking as if he’d had a stylist in there with him, he came to her and embraced her for a long, quiet moment. “You’re too easy to be with,” he said into Evie’s hair, and it sounded ominously like an accusation to her. He pulled back to look in her eyes. “I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you,” he said, causing her stomach to twinge with worry. He’d done a good job of distracting her from what she came to ask him about.

A dark cloud seemed to pass over his face and he pulled back, dropping his head with a sigh. “I, uh… I’m going to work out.” He straightened the cuffs of his shirt, his attention seeming suddenly rapt to anything but her.

Evie chewed the inside of her cheek. Ford was fidgeting. Avoiding eye contact. She’d never seen him fidget.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice edgy with concern, her own eyes pinned to his averted ones.

“Nothing. Why don’t—”

“Ford,” she cut him off. “Talk to me.”

“No.” His voice was sharp and resolute. “The only thing you need to know—” his eyes caught hers and the intensity in them made her gut twist with fear “—is that I will not allow you to be harmed.” He blinked twice in quick succession, his eyes going unfocused for a moment before he seemed to return to her. He was seriously distracted.

She didn’t like the look on his face. His jaw was like steel, and his lips were mashed in a grim line. He seemed resolute about whatever had just played out privately in his head. Whatever it was, it didn’t make her feel any better.

He offered a hand to help her off his desk. “Charley might be around. I saw his truck out front, but not his bike. If you can find him, show him how you throw knives. It’ll really freak him out.”

She smiled in spite of her unease, knowing Ford’s attempt at lightheartedness was a front for whatever he was really feeling. She didn’t say anything else to him, but took her time in gathering up her bag.

They met eyes again as she turned to go, and again Ford couldn’t seem to hold her gaze, dropping his beautiful emerald eyes and running a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristically anxious gesture.

Evie closed the library door behind her reluctantly, vowing to find Charley and take him out to the garage to look at Ford’s car, but her biker man was nowhere to be found. She slowly climbed the stairs back to her room, so many thoughts snarling in her brain that she didn’t know what to think about first.

After showering, she grabbed a short, silky robe and wrapped it around her naked body, too distracted to pick out an outfit. Dropping heavily onto her bed, she stared out the window for a long time, mulling over the idea of asking Ford for enough of her salary in advance to pay John back immediately.

She hadn’t wanted to do that, and she knew it would cause an issue with Ford. He’d give her the money—she was sure of that—but it would change things. It was important to Ford that she had the free choice to leave at any moment, and if she borrowed money, she’d be beholden to him. She didn’t think Ford would continue their…relationship, for lack of a better word, if she owed him money.

And she wasn’t ready to give that up. Charley and Ford were giving Evie the only real happiness she’d had in years, maybe ever. To feel loved and desired and safe…well, she just couldn’t bring herself to change things.

She pondered how to get the money without altering their deal, but after an hour she gave up in frustration. If Ford gave her the money it would change the delicate balance between them, and Evie didn’t want that to happen. She had more than herself to think of—Charley was a part of this too. If she altered her relationship with Ford, who knew what effect it’d have on Charley and Ford. And she was
not
going to be the cause of Charley’s fresh heartbreak.

She left her room in search of both men, seeking comfort and an answer that wasn’t there. But she wanted to see them, needing to be reassured of her safety and theirs.

Instead of turning right out of her room and heading for the stairs, as had been her plan, she went left toward Ford’s room, her heartbeat racing. If he was in there, he might be angry at her for seeking him in his private quarters. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the spot in the hallway where Ford had made her suck him before demanding she fuck Charley alone. She shivered. So many things had gone on among the three of them. They’d been connected in ways that were beyond her wildest imaginings only weeks before. No wonder their feelings had grown so intense so quickly.

At least they had for her and for Charley. How could Ford remain unaffected?

She rapped hesitantly at his door, entering when she heard a distant, “Come in.” Ford was in his bathroom. She’d never been in his room before, so she followed the direction she’d heard his voice.

Upon entering the bathroom, she was struck by two overwhelming sights. The first was the architectural masterpiece that was his
en suite
. If Evie could imagine what the master bathroom might look like in the penthouse floor of a luxury Las Vegas hotel suite, she still couldn’t have come up with the reality of Ford’s bathroom.

First, it was huge—half the size of her last apartment, it seemed. And second, there were mirrors and marble everywhere. Even the intricately coffered ceiling had been fitted with mirrors. The room was partitioned into two areas, the first being a dressing area with thick, marble counters on both sides of the room, topping drawers that lined up under the stone slabs, adding order and linear aspects that were repeated over and over in the parallel mirrors. The effect was an elegant, breathtaking space of a caliber she’d never seen.

Yet all that shine and glitz was overshadowed by something else…the other sight that had swamped Evie’s senses with pleasure the second she’d stepped into the room. Ford, leaning on one of the counters on closed fists, wet from a shower. A towel was slung low around his waist and water beaded on his skin. His hair tousled in a messy, sexy way she’d never seen, shiny and wet. He looked at her through the reflection without turning, keeping his muscled back to her.

He held her eyes, his expression heavy, before dropping his gaze back to his own reflection. His eyebrows fell into a scowl, and his mouth tightened with disgust as he looked at himself.

She leaned against the door frame, not saying a word, and instead just drank him in, content to stand there. Finally, he glanced up at her again and, catching her eyes, he watched her watch him.

He was clearly troubled, and she assumed his unease was due to the bullet hole in his two-hundred thousand dollar car, so he caught her off-guard when he said, “Evie, don’t look at me like that. Please. Not you.” He averted his eyes again.

She blinked. “Look at you like what?”

“Like you might do anything for me.” The words came tight through his clenched jaw. He looked down at himself and straightened, crossing his arms across his tanned, chiseled chest. “You’re in danger, and I think we both know that you being here is only making it worse now. Yet, I can’t seem to bring myself to make you go, for your own safety.” He took a deep breath, flexing his jaw. “I want you to do it.”

He met her eyes, his words harsh and demanding. “I showed you the things I want. I want to
hurt
you. You can’t want that! You don’t deserve that.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, his face miserable. “I let you see all of me—” His face darkened and he glowered, looking away. “But still you won’t leave. Even after what I did to you. After what I’ve made you do with Charley…” He cut his words off, dropping his head. His posture highlighted his straight shoulders and corded back, bunched with tension. “Is it my money? Is that why you’re staying? Because being with me isn’t worth five-hundred thousand dollars, and it’s certainly not worth the danger I’m putting you in.”

Evie closed her eyes in a slow blink. “I’m going to try not to take offense at what you just said, due to your complete lack of skill in having a relationship with a woman, friends or otherwise,” she said dryly. “Ford, you have problems alright, but your sexual kinks aren’t one of them. Your biggest problem is your hatred for yourself.”

He squinted his eyes and frowned, his face a confused scowl.

She continued before he had a chance to deflect her words. “You don’t ever let people know the real you because you think you can’t be accepted—that you’re not worthy of love. And since you only let people see the shallow stuff—your looks, your money, your body—you think they only want you for it. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

He raised his eyebrows and pulled the corner of his mouth back in a skeptical expression, and she could see him mentally shrug off what she’d said as bullshit. “I appreciate your theory, Evie, but I have a hard time believing it. That’s not the reason I don’t get close to people.”

“Why then? Because you’re bored? I don’t buy it.” She let her voice harden. “I’ve known you for a while and I’ve never seen you as happy as you are now with Charley and me. You need this—you need people around you. Why do you do this to yourself? What’s so wrong with you that no one can love you?”

He raised his voice in response to her heated words. “You don’t understand. You didn’t grow up like I did. People being paid to love you, to care for you. Everyone knowing before you walked into a room who you are and that you are to be coddled and sucked-up to. It makes a person feel inhuman.”

He pulled himself tall again, turning around now to face her, leaning his towel-covered ass against the polished marble counter. “The ironic part is that people act like that because they think you’re special, or they’re told to treat you like you are, but it doesn’t make you feel special in the long run. It only ever made me feel worthless.”

His shoulders seemed to hunch at his admission and his voice lost its edge. “After years of that it made me feel like I wasn’t worth honest emotions, real reactions, true judgments. And then I guess no one seemed real anymore.”

She crossed her arms, mirroring his hostile posture. “No, you’re right.” She pressed her lips together and nodded sharply. “I don’t know what it’s like to have everyone fall all over themselves to take care of me and make me happy. In fact I’m not sure I’ve ever had one person want to do that for me in my entire life. Ever. So you’re right. I don’t understand.”

He closed his eyes, his voice pained. “I’m sorry, Evie. I wish things had been different for you.” He shook his head, looking away, silent for a moment. “Our lives have been so different and yet, in a vital way, so similar. We’ve both felt so alone.”

“I did feel alone.” She paused. “Until…” She trailed off, unsure if she should finish the thought.

But he’d caught it. “Until what?”

She shrugged, but his voice took on the tone. “Until what, Evangeline?” He was suddenly angry, his face reddening. “Until what? And don’t lie to me.” The volume of his words had risen again, and now his crossed arms rose and fell as his chest heaved. “You can’t mean until me. You can’t mean until I paid you to have sex with me and then hurt you, because that’s bullshit.”

She closed her eyes before speaking, reluctant to let him in on her special, private memory. “Until you took my hand in the library,” she whispered finally.

He blinked and his body stilled. He looked at her blankly.

“When John called and was berating me. When he said he was going to come to the library, and I was scared. You know how I hate to be scared now, but you didn’t then. And yet you took my hand. You put your arm around me. You somehow knew I needed something, and you were there for me. You took up for me. Protected me.”