Bound Hearts 01-12

by Lora Leigh

  “And don’t forget it.” He jerked the shirt over his shoulders before bending to collect his shoes and socks. “Never fucking forget it.”

  “Never, Ian.” She sounded satisfied, not sated, but her voice echoed with pleasure.

  Clenching his teeth against the surging forces rising within him, he turned and stomped from her room, striding quickly to his own.

  It was just sex…

  He pushed his fingers roughly through his hair at the thought. If it was just sex, if it were nothing more than he had known with all the women before him, then why did he crave her touch now, more than he had before he went to her? Why did he hunger for something that had no name, no definition? Something that now ate at his soul and he knew would never again allow him any peace.

  If it was just sex, then why in the hell was his soul screaming that it was more…

  So much more…

  * * * * *

  The last thing Courtney wanted to do was leave Ian and have lunch, go shopping or try to be civil in any way, shape or form. She wanted to race after Ian, wanted to scream at him, demand that he stop hiding from her just when she could feel him reaching out to her.

  But she showered, dressed, and when she left her room she restrained from slamming the bedroom door and cursing violently.

  Ian, of course, was no place to be found.

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  Hiding.

  Coward.

  She wanted to rage with him, rage at him. She didn’t want to leave and give him the opportunity to build even more defenses against her. She wanted to hold him, feel again that merging she had known could exist between them. The completion that had, for endless seconds, rushed through her senses and left her shuddering in the aftermath.

  “I think we need drinks before lunch,” Tally Conover commented as Courtney joined her in the foyer, her gaze sharp, her expression thoughtful. “And we definitely need to talk to Kimberly.”

  Courtney barely refrained from glaring at her.

  “Come along, dear, girls’ day out. Do you need to inform Ian you may be late?”

  “I’ll need to be late?” Her fingers clenched on her purse as she fought to make herself follow the other woman to the door the butler held open politely.

  “Please inform Ian that Ms. Mattlaw may be severely late returning tonight,” she informed him imperiously. “I’m certain he’ll understand why.” Courtney hoped to hell he did, because she didn’t.

  Her senses were overloaded. She had no business venturing out into the real world right now, and she knew it.

  “This might not be a good idea,” she sighed as she stepped into Tally’s sporty little Jaguar. “Perhaps we should go shopping some other time.”

  “I agree with you one hundred percent.” She might agree, but the amusement in her voice assured Courtney that the other woman had no intention of canceling whatever plans were in the making.

  “I think a nice quiet lunch at my home, with a few friends, and plenty of drinks are in order. What do you say?”

  Courtney turned to stare at her as tires screamed in protest at the quick application of gas she gave the vehicle. She jerked in the seat, frowning at the thought of whiplash.

  “Will we get there in one piece?” She winced as Tally shot onto the main street, barely glancing at oncoming traffic as she did so.

  “Of course we will,” Tally laughed with a natural, sharp humor.

  Courtney shook her head, an unwilling smile tugging at her lips. She knew she liked the other woman for a reason, and she was beginning to learn why. She knew how to drive right, just to start with.

  “I’m going to make a guess here,” Tally suddenly stated. “Ian has, in some way, made a complete ass of his Trojan self and you haven’t regained your balance yet. When they do that, the only thing you can do is drown your sorrows in liquor and friendship and plan his downfall to the last detail. How close am I?” Too close.

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  “Are they all alike?” She sighed, bemoaning the fact that she assumed Ian was somehow different from the others.

  “Hell no,” Tally laughed. “They are as unique as they can get. But Ian is the hardest.

  The one least affected, from what I gather, by any emotion. Even Kimberly despairs of him. Did you know he’s often the third in her marriage with Jared Raddington?” Damn, and she had liked Kimberly too.

  “She’ll join us for lunch. I’m certain she’ll have some ideas on how to bring him to his knees.”

  “He’s fucked her and you want me to meet her?” Perhaps Tally wasn’t as intuitive as she was beginning to think.

  The other woman’s lips curled in a smile of satisfaction. “Don’t worry, you’ll love Kimberly. And you’ll learn we have to stick together, or else they’ll drive us insane.

  And trust me, there’s no way to avoid her or get out of liking her. Jared is as close to Ian as anyone has ever managed.”

  Courtney frowned. “Let me guess, you’re the troublemaker of the group?”

  “How did you guess?” An almost feline smile of accomplishment crossed her features, giving the unique planes and angles a decidedly wicked cast. “Now, settle back and relax. Ian will know you’re with me and that will make him crazy. He knows me. And he knows exactly what we’ll be plotting. We have to keep him off-guard, otherwise you’ll not have a chance at bringing him down.” Courtney wanted to shake her head, to somehow jerk herself back to reality rather than this strange conversation she was having.

  “Who says I need help?”

  Tally snorted. “Your eyes say it all, darling. And the fact that Ian left a meeting with Devril and Lucian to make you scream loud enough to bring down the rafters and echo into the office was clue enough. They called me, of course.” Courtney blinked back at her as she automatically braced herself at the next turn.

  “They called you?”

  “Of course.” She shrugged. “We’ve been waiting for this for months. Ever since Ian learned you were visiting he’s been like a bear with a sore paw every time it was mentioned. You mean something to him, Courtney, but he’s fighting it. Ian could easily cut his own nose off to spite his face. His friends aren’t willing to watch that happen.” There was an edge of warning in her voice. “And neither are you, I assume?” That question was filled with more than casual curiosity.

  Courtney narrowed her gaze on Tally, reading more now than a friendly invitation to anything. This was a carefully thought-out outing, with Tally Conover in the lead.

  “So what was your plan?” She sat back in her seat, watching as Tally shot her a knowing look before she turned her attention back to the road.

  “Ian’s fall, of course.” Tally shrugged. “Let’s just say that Ian deserves to be toppled from his little seat of icy splendor. He should be as tortured and as tormented as he 78

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  claims our husbands are. Now, when he taunts them into their little adventures to torture and torment us, he’ll think twice about it.”

  “What will you do when you can no longer plot Ian’s downfall?” Courtney suddenly laughed. She had a feeling Ian had given the women she was about to become very close friends with, just a bit of hell.

  Tally flicked her a glance rife with mocking enjoyment. “We have a list, darling. His name wasn’t exactly the last one on it.”

  Now that sounded like fun.

  “So today is a plotting session so to speak?” she ventured with no lack of amusement.

  “That’s a good description.” Tally nodded, obviously restraining her glee. “A plotting session. The first of many.”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell Courtney was going to miss out on this.

  “Then let the games begin,” she laughed, suddenly more optimistic than she had been before leaving the house.

  These women knew Ian, if nothing else, through their husbands. They would have the information she needed to hold
the advantage she gained today. And right now, Courtney knew, she needed every advantage she could steal from him.

  “She has left with Ms. Conover, sir. Should I have her followed?” Ian stood silently before the wide windows of his office, his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks as he frowned out at the dreary, cold day.

  “Don’t bother, Jason,” he sighed. “Tally would know they were being followed and she would cause as much of a fuss as possible.”

  “If I may say so, sir. Ms. Mattlaw is proving to be a bit of a wildcard. I believe letting her out unattended could turn into a catastrophe.” Ian snorted at the understatement.

  “Catastrophe would be a mild word if she learned she was being watched. As long as she’s with Tally, she’s reasonably safe.”

  He was aware of Jason’s bafflement at the initial order of the security measures he had placed Courtney. He had been unable to help himself. The past was a demon he couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Was her safety in question, sir?” Jason’s tone was concerned now.

  Ian sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and pushed back the need to find her, to order her back to the mansion.

  “Her safety is not in question, Jason.” At least not yet. Not from anyone other than himself and his desires.

  “Very well, sir.” Confusion radiated from the butler. “Shall I inform the Misters Conover, Wyman and Mr. Andrews that you will resume the meeting soon? They have 79

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  expressed some question as to whether or not the previous business discussions have been concluded.”

  He shook his head, turning back to the butler slowly.

  “They’re in The Club?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll join them there. Please let me know when Ms. Mattlaw returns.”

  “I’m certain the sound of the commotion will reach your ears before I can scurry to your location,” Jason harrumphed.

  “I’m certain you’re right.” An unwilling smile tugged at his lips at the thought.

  “But make the attempt in any case.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jason inclined his head before turning smartly and leaving the room, returning it once again to the oppressive silence which had filled it before his arrival.

  You’re so depraved, Ian. I sold my soul into hell to be your woman. To what end? This is my end.

  Once again, written words seared his memory.

  He couldn’t control the need, the hunger. It was eating him alive, as it never had before.

  He could see it, he could almost feel it.

  Courtney’s sexual appetite was strong, blistering in its heat. He could see her, her eyes dazed, pleasure consuming her as her lips opened in a scream, sandwiched between him and Khalid.

  The half-Saudi would complement her passions, his patience. His control would match Ian’s as they drove her past any boundary of pleasure she could have known.

  He wanted to play with her. He wanted to watch her writhe on the bed, retrained, pleading, gasping for release as he and Khalid drove her past any restraint, any conscious control. He wanted, fuck, he needed—hungered—to see her reach that point where she climaxed from not more than a breath against her clit, a lick to her nipple.

  Where her body was so sensitized, so aroused, so perfectly attuned to the pleasure they could bring, that when they pierced her snug channels, the orgasms would roll through her, a continual progression of release that would stroke, milk, convulse around their burrowing cocks.

  The need was overshadowed only by the memory of the last woman who had loved him. It was a pleasure he had wanted her to know as well.

  He hung his head, breathing in roughly as his shoulders bunched with tension.

  He had taken many women to his bed, experienced women, women who sought nothing more than that peak and went eagerly, too eagerly, toward it. He had thought that would be enough. It wasn’t.

  Courtney would fight it. She would beg, scream, curse his control and attempt to break it, whether she knew the end result or not. It was a part of her nature. She would 80

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  never give him that part of herself without a fight, without a challenge to his dominance.

  “Are you finished moping yet?”

  Ian turned slowly to meet Cole’s mocking gaze.

  Of all those who surrounded Ian in his day-to-day life, Cole alone knew the truth of what held Ian back. He had been there, in those horrifying days after Melissa’s death.

  “You’re out of line, Cole.” His jaw clenched with anger as he read the mocking condescension in the other man’s gaze.

  “Am I, Ian?” He shook his head, entering the office as he closed the door behind him. “She’s a wild woman. Maybe even more than you, with all your experience, could ever hope to tame. She’s your match. Everyone sees it but you.”

  “She’s an innocent,” he breathed out roughly.

  “She’s not Melissa, Ian. Melissa was broken, inside. You couldn’t have anticipated that. You couldn’t see through her lies and her games because you hadn’t known her through the bad times. You had no idea that she was less than the person she showed you. You know Courtney.”

  And he knew she was as wild as the wind. That she had always been impossible to peg, or to constrain. Even as a child she had been like a whirlwind, rushing around the estate, creating havoc, drawing smiles and unrestrained laughter. From the moment she turned sixteen she had tried to tempt him. God, according to her, she had watched him.

  “Maybe I don’t need to share Courtney.” He pushed back his own attempts to justify what he wanted.

  Cole snorted as he threw himself into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk Ian was striding to.

  “Yeah, and maybe the sun doesn’t need to rise tomorrow.” He scratched at his jaw thoughtfully. “You might not need it, but I bet she does.” Ian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re out of the running.”

  “Thank God,” Cole grunted. “Tessa’s the only wild woman I can handle. If she doesn’t fuck me into an early grave it will be a miracle.” Ian dropped into his chair, slouching into the thickly padded back as he propped his feet on the desk and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling morosely.

  Such inaction was against his nature. He had kept his involvements at a certain level for a reason, to allow himself the full immersion of his senses into his sexuality when the opportunity arose.

  He was a businessman, running not just The Club, but also overseeing the various businesses his father had left him, as well as the multitude of other interests. His life was often fast-paced, filled with on-demand questions, answers, and lightning-fast business reflexes. He thrived on it. Craved it. But the stress level often became tremendous.

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  It was then that Ian found his sexuality rose to the fore. He began to hunger, to need the excesses he found such enjoyment in. In all honesty, he would have found relief for that by now, if it had been any other woman. He had dated the innocents, hell, he had even bedded several women whom he had known were not cut out for the life he lived.

  And he had always, without fail, found his ultimate satisfaction, the relief of the building stress, the loneliness, the need to just fucking give, when he was helping to send a lover to the very pinnacles of ecstasy.

  It was where he hungered to send Courtney.

  It was beginning to torture him, to torment him. He was beginning to fear he couldn’t hold out much longer.

  “Let’s make a little bet.” Cole’s voice drew him back from his own musings.

  “What kind of bet?” Ian narrowed his eyes on his longtime friend.

  “Ten thousand says she pushes you into it. That she does something that shatters all that careful control you’re forcing on yourself, and before you know it, you’ll have her tied and blindfolded, screaming for mercy while you and a third work her over.
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  Another ten says you choose Khalid.”

  Ian snorted. Khalid was a given. None of the other Trojans, save for Cole, understood that particular kink.

  Hell, the first was a given. He was fucked and he knew it. The only question was how much longer he could possibly hold out. He was actually beginning to pray that Dane got a clue and arrived quickly.

  “Go to hell.”

  “Bet still stands. Club rules. I set the challenge, it’s up to you to make or break it.

  Time allowances.” Cole narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I’ll make it easy for you. A week.”

  Could he hold out a week? Sure he could. A week would be easy. Especially after the phone call to Dane that he intended to make. Ian wasn’t above admitting he was drowning in a puddle of his own making.

  “A week,” he agreed as Cole rose to his feet, a mocking smile tilting his lips.

  “Damn. I have to come to The Club more often. This could get amusing,” he snickered as he moved to the door. “Good luck, buddy. And no padding your own bet.

  I wouldn’t be pleased.”

  “Meaning?” Ian rose slowly to his own feet.

  “Meaning. If you call Dane, all bets are off, and I make certain your sweet little innocent learns some amazing home truths. Tess is good at having loose lips when the need arises.” Cole turned back and saluted him, mocking. “’Night, Ian.” Ian’s fists clenched. If the son of a bitch weren’t his best friend, he would kill him.

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  Chapter Eight

  Ian was pacing the floor at midnight when Courtney hadn’t returned to the house.

  At one o clock, he was cursing and nursing a stiff whisky. At two in the morning he had enough. He knew Tally too well. She was an instigator and determined to torture and torment the men she knew. She drove her husbands crazy at the office, and when they could take no more she conspired with the other women to make their husbands’ lives hell.

  She was continually thinking of ways sneak into The Club without Devril or Lucian, and even worse, she was sneaking the other women in. Forget about just asking,