by Lisa Eugene
Chloe’s fork fell to her plate with a clatter and her brows pinched. She hated the idea.
“He’s been angling to get in on my parents’ projects. I own a sizeable portion of their biotech company. I can offer him a percentage of the shares I own in return for getting us the research data on Memoram.”
“Brad, you can’t do that. They are your shares! It’s your parents’ company. I’m sure it’s worth a lot of money.”
Brad leaned forward on his elbows, his wide shoulders bunching beneath his suit.
“Chloe, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have more money than I know what to do with. I can easily part with a few shares of the company.”
Chloe sighed, suddenly losing her appetite. Why was he doing this? She couldn’t allow him to sacrifice so much for her.
“Listen,” he explained “We need the data on Memoram to prove that’s what killed the patients. Without it we’re screwed.”
She couldn’t help noticing he used the word ‘we’re’ instead of ‘you’re.’ Warmth pumped through her body at the thought that he’d go to such lengths to help her, but this was just too much.
“How do you know that Fusso will even be able to get it, or agree to give it to you?”
“If Phillips thinks he’ll jump back in as an investor, he’ll give it to him. He can just say he wants to look at it one more time. I’ll tell Fusso I’m interested in funding the project, but want to secretly review the data first. I’ve been thinking about this since Gordon Shaw’s death. It’s the only way we can get the data from Phillips without him getting suspicious. He’s probably already spooked if he thought Gordon was trying to get it.”
“What if he changes the results of the research? He wouldn’t want Fusso to know about the continued side effects and the deaths.”
“He most likely will. But we have documented symptoms in the charts of the patients who died in the hospital, and I’m certain we’ll find traces of Memoram in their blood and tissue, even if they have to be exhumed. All we need is the chemical formula.”
Chloe chewed on her lip, still not liking the idea.
“What if he tells Phillips the research is really for you? Phillips will know you suspect him. You work at WMH. How do you know you can trust Fusso?”
Brad fixed his stare on her and she shivered. “He’s a greedy bastard, Chloe. Just like Phillips. He’d sell out his mother to make money, and he’d sell out Phillips in a heartbeat. With the aerosolized version of my parents’ malaria vaccine, their company will probably triple in value. He’ll make a ridiculous fortune.”
“Let me think about it,” she said, but by the look on his face she could tell he’d already made up his mind.
“There’s nothing to think about. I’ve already contacted Mr. Fusso.” A flat palm rose as she started to speak. “Gordon Shaw was a good man. Mr. Barkley was my patient as well as a friend. I owe it to him—as well as the other patients—to see that Omega is held accountable. ”
Chloe was uneasy with this plan, but she had a hard time rousing anger. Brad was just as determined as she was, and he was truly a good guy, as Bea had once told her. But she also worried that Mr. Fusso would take the shares and not deliver the information they needed.
“You can barely keep your eyes open. Come on.” Brad led her to his room and tucked her into the biggest, most comfortable bed she had ever curled into, then left the room to make a phone call.
Chloe stared at the ceiling, trying to push away her concerns about Brad’s plan. She turned and snuggled against a pillow, feeling as if she was imbedded in a cloud saturated with his masculine scent. The fragrance billowed around her, keeping her wide awake. She was wearing one of his tee-shirts and a pair of shorts from her backpack. The intimacy of wearing his clothes was extremely arousing, and all she could think about was having his naked body wrapped snugly around hers instead of his shirt.
Needing to distract herself from her licentious thoughts, she tossed the covers off her legs and stood, surveying the room for where she’d left her backpack. She switched on a bedside lamp, thinking she’d spend some time reviewing the notes she’d made about her conversation with Gordon Shaw and the information she’d collected on Omega. Finding her backpack, she lifted it onto the bed and unzipped it just as the door pushed open and Brad walked in.
His gaze flew immediately to her bag and the expression on his face hardened.
“Where are you off to, Chloe?”
Her mouth went dry as he approached, his blue eyes towing her gaze, making it follow his progress until he was directly in front of her.
“Nowhere. I—I couldn’t sleep.” She hated the quiver in her voice, but when he looked at her like that, like he could see beyond flesh and bone, it rattled her.
“You weren’t planning on leaving, were you?”
Chloe’s gaze bounced to her backpack, and she realized he thought she was trying to sneak away. She shook her head and regarded him through narrowed eyes, annoyed again because if she wanted to leave, she’d just leave. She’d missed him and craved his comfort, and honestly he was the only one she could confide in and discuss the horrendous events that were unfolding, but she was used to doing things alone. She was the one who took care of everyone else.
Although she had responsibilities, no one ever told her what to do. She’d never had to answer to anyone. She appreciated his support and his help, but hated his domineering. She’d been pissed when he’d interfered with her altercation with Richard, and she knew it was his personality to try to direct everything around him, but she was not one to be directed.
She folded her arms across her breasts in challenge, and met his steady gaze.
“What if I were?”
Brad went still for a moment, the only sign that he’d heard her was his eyes flaring marginally. Their centers were almost as dark as the thick lashes that rimmed them. Chloe braced herself, ready for his burst of anger. Instead, his lips pulled in a slow, sadistic smile and the effect caused her toes to curl with trepidation.
His familiar anger she was prepared for, but the lazy dare in his cobalt blue eyes truly unnerved her. He was still wearing his suit, looking properly handsome, and she watched his hands move to his tie. His long fingers unraveled the knot and he slid it off his neck. Chloe swallowed hard, seizing her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind dismissing the thoughts that surfaced as ridiculous.
He wouldn’t dare. No way. No how. Not happening.
She tried to take a step back, but the bed was behind her. Instead, she stole a side step and backed up to a comfortable distance. Brad tracked her with his gaze, his face impassive, deceptively non-threatening. Chloe could feel hot energy leaking from him, knew his muscles were coiled beneath the suit waiting for her to make a move.
“Brad?” she drawled, her tone measured like she was soothing a feral animal.
He held the tie in one hand, his other idled at his side. His expression was relaxed.
“Brad? What are you doing with that?” She jerked her chin towards his tie.
“I’m about to answer your question.”
She cleared her parched throat. Damn…that would be the initial question, wouldn’t it? The one obviously not well thought through. The one that had arisen from her annoyance at his high-handedness. High-handedness he was more than willing to demonstrate, if she correctly read the look in his eyes. Damn!
Chloe did not have time to contemplate her dilemma because at that moment, Brad lunged at her. She tried to skirt his arms, but he locked his powerful biceps around her, and they both tumbled onto the bed. She realized she was laughing as she tried to roll away, but Brad, laughing now too at her futile attempts to escape, was undeterred in his aim.
At one point, she tried to lodge a knee into his groin, but he blocked it and scooted away, locking her legs with his solid thighs and growling a warning about his goodies. She sank her teeth into his neck, not hard enough to break skin, but the act did not elicit the response she’d expected. He groaned
and punched his hips into her pelvis, then cheated with a series of hard tickles that had her curled up with gasping laughter and squealing his name.
“Cl…cl…own suit…bo…bo…zo…hair…re..re..red…no!”
He flipped her and grinned down in her face, his forehead wrinkled with puzzlement.
“What?”
She shook her head, her hair flying wildly. “Nothing.” A curlicue of laughter spiraled up. “Let me up!”
“You’re beautiful when you’re wild and mumbling incoherently…” he teased, nuzzling her neck.
She was on her back now with his big body crushing hers into the mattress, and her hands pinned high above her head, her wrists encased in his strong fingers. Her breasts heaved up and down and the breath dashed from her lungs. She was winded from her struggles, part laughing, part serious, part delirious because she could feel the stab of his large erection digging into her abdomen, and it was seriously clouding her judgment.
“You are such a tyrant! Let me up! Don’t you dare tie me!”
Even as she said the words, he secured her wrists, looping the silk, and drawing it tight. He must have tied it to one of the iron posts in the headboard, because even when he removed his hands, she was unable to pull her wrists down. Shit! She was well and truly bound.
“Brad! Untie me.”
He sat up and looked down at his handiwork, his gaze taking a meandering stroll down the length of her body. Her tee shirt was crumpled beneath her breasts, exposing a white desert of skin dimpled by her belly button. Her shorts were askew and rode high on her thighs. He seemed to like what he saw, because a slow smile spread across his face.
“This is crazy!”
“This ensures me that you’ll stay put.”
“Brad, surely you don’t…” Her words trailed off when he bent his head and his tongue dipped into her belly button. She jerked from the contact, a fire bolt blazing to her sex, setting it aflame.
Oh, God…
She tried to remain still, to block out the traitorous sensations. After all, she needed to keep her wits, to demand that he untie her! But his lips feathered over her abdomen, causing shiver-inducing pleasure to shake through her body and her demand erupted as a garbled moan.
“What was that?” he asked, his mouth still tracing along her skin. She could tell he was smiling. “An apology? Hmmm…I don’t know… You haven’t been very cooperative. In fact, you’ve driven me crazy with worry this past week!”
Chloe nibbled her lip, guilt edging up on her. She hadn’t meant to make him worry. She’d thought it best to stay away and wouldn’t in a million years have expected her sudden absence to cause him such anger and concern.
He unbuttoned her shorts and jerked them down her legs, his actions detouring her thoughts. She tried to bring her hands down to cover herself and realized with a grimace that they were locked in place.
“Brad! Be reasonable!”
His chuckle was decidedly wicked. “Oh, I intend to be anything but.”
Chloe rolled her eyes to the ceiling, wondering how she could appeal to him.
Her tee shirt was rucked up high on her torso, her hard nipples peeking out beneath. The rest of her body was completely nude, exposed and displayed to him. He was still fully dressed in his suit, making her feel even more vulnerable in her exposure.
A quivering alarm rushed up her spine, but the fact that she was at his mercy, that she was bound and he could do anything he desired, was also darkly titillating, and her body gushed moisture that coated her dewy folds and drenched the inside of her thighs. She wanted to touch him. He was enticingly sexy with his dark wavy hair sloppily mussed, his angular features, and sky blue eyes holding seductive promise.
He settled beside her, his length pressed along her body. She gasped when his fingers slipped between her legs and tip-toed through her moist flesh, dancing on the concentrated knot of nerves.
“You feel amazing…so wet. You’re dripping, Chlo.” He peppered kisses along her jaw and whispered into her ear. “Something tells me you like being tied, like being held captive to my will.”
She opened her mouth to protest but it lodged in her chest when he slid several long fingers deep inside her. Chloe spread her thighs and bucked her hips off the bed, her shrieking nerve endings singing his praises. She tugged on the tie, her muscles tightening with spasms of pure pleasure that worked their way along her limbs. He swirled his fingers inside her, a languid probing that dislodged her breath in accelerating increments.
“My will right now, Chloe, is to fuck you until there is no doubt in your mind that you belong to me. You can’t run from this.”
His words arrowed straight to her sex, causing fluttery contractions that gripped his fingers like a vice. He lifted his head and captured her lips for a deep, drugging kiss, sweeping his tongue around in her mouth. Chloe watched as he moved down her body, stopping to palm her breasts as his lips trailed across her abdomen. He kneeled between her legs, her knees drawn up on either side of him. Her mind was a blur, reeling stark erotic images, her body trembling with need. She wanted him naked, sliding his hard body against hers and pressing his weight on her thighs. She wanted to rub her hands over his broad naked shoulders and glide them down his muscular back. With a frustrated groan, she pulled on her restraint.
“I want to touch you. Take off your clothes.”
Brad tsked and shook his head sternly. “That’s not my will right now.”
Her gaze lowered to where he opened his pants and pushed the edges aside. He delved in and drew out the throbbing length of his cock. She swallowed hard, her hips tilting instinctively, the muscles of her channel fluttering with greedy anticipation. His cock was beautiful. Visibly pulsing. Long and thick with a network of engorged veins climbing up the straining length. The mushroom head was overly fat and shiny, weeping streaks of pre-come. She couldn’t see his testicles hidden in the folds of his pants, but she imagined they were drawn just as tense as his shaft. A shock of black curls escaped the fabric, peeking around the wide girth. She stared, thinking she’d never get used to the raw power of his beautiful body or the clutching need he evoked in her.
Brad’s gaze fixed on her face, hot and sultry and unreadable. His eyes were hooded, displaying a tiny crescent of color. Chloe felt locked in a haze of lust, a palpable thing that infiltrated her mind and clawed at her body for a physical connection to this man. She still couldn’t figure out what he wanted from her, why he’d tied her. It was patently obvious that she wanted him desperately at the moment, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
His gaze broke away from her face and made a leisurely stroll down her body, stopping to linger between her legs. He used his palms on her knees to push back and roll up her hips, exposing her to his avid gaze. With a deep belly moan, he lowered his head and beat his tongue back and forth over her nub, deliriously lashing it to a tight bud. Chloe arched and called out, a vocal quiver that gave voice to the pleasure stabbing through her body.
“Oh, God! God! That’s sooo good! Please!”
Brad’s head shot up and he met her gaze. She had trouble focusing on his face, but could see a tiny grin split his lips and a dimple dig into his cheek.
“Just Brad will do, thanks. And save the amens for later.”
She bit her lip, trying to process his facetious comment, but just then, all thought spun away as he gripped his cock and dragged the bulging head slowly through her slick folds. He drew tight circles and scribbled his way along her sensitive flesh, torturing nerve endings to a screaming frenzy. Chloe jerked her hips, desperate for him to fill her. Whimpers and moans gurgled from her throat, but his hand kept urgently working his hot shaft against her, sliding and bumping, and making her mad with desperate lust.
“What do you want, Chloe?” His rough voice broke through her haze. She saw tight strain on his face while dark desire soaked his eyes, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one gripped with this brutal need.
“Please….”
Brad gr
oaned, a feral rumbling, and she felt him nudge her opening, stretching her flesh with a delicious slide that pulsed bliss through her channel. His bloated tip slid in, and he pumped a few shallow beats, then withdrew with a snarling moan.
“Fuck! That’s good!” He breathed harshly.
Chloe’s hips writhed off the bed. She closed her eyes and struggled for a breath, suffering the acute loss of his abandonment.
Oh, God. This. Man. Was. Killing. Her.
Her nipples were hard and tingling, her skin overly sensitive, and a deep burn fired her sex. She was dripping wet and shaking with her need for him.
“Like that, Chlo? Is that what you want?”
She nodded, unable to form words. More. She wanted much, much more.
“I see…” He held his shaft in his hand, slowly stroking from tip to base. Holding it out so she could peruse its magnificence. His cock was enormously distended, the wide head coated with their fluids. The carnal sight had her tugging hard on her bond. She craved him so desperately it physically hurt. “Hmmm…so you want my cock, is that it? You want me fucking you deep, am I right?” His gaze met hers and she was mesmerized with his intensity; his blue eyes were bottomless wells and she wanted to dive into the limpid dark pools. “You need me. Say it.”
Chloe blinked. What?
“Say it.”
“Fu—fuck me, Brad.”
“No! Say you need me. Say it, dammit!”
“I—I ne—need you.”
She stared, her body thrumming wildly, her brain scrambling her thoughts in a shuffle. What is this about? She tested the restraint.
“You won’t run…”
“I won’t run.”
“You need me.”
Didn’t I say that already? Can’t we just get on with it?
“I need you.” She swallowed, tasting the truth of her words. She thought she saw emotion cloud his eyes, bleeding through the blue.
“I need you to surrender, Chloe.”
She blinked. Was she supposed to say that too? Shit, she couldn’t think. Surrender what? What was she supposed to surrender? He already had her tied up! This was becoming about so much more than sex. Her heart pounded. She didn’t want to deal with any emotion right now other than the lust riding her hard.