by Madison Faye
“I saw the way he looked at you and no one else at that party last night. I saw the way he had his damn eyes all over you. His guard will be down around you, and you’re more likely to get something than I am.”
I laugh a brittle laugh. “I’m not doing it.”
“Ms. Worthington, I don’t want to, but I will get a subpoena if I have—”
“She’ll do it,” Bill growls, pushing past agent Hall and jabbing a finger in my face. “She’ll do it because if she doesn’t, what does she think is going to happen to her poor mom?”
I freeze, my heart sinking even deeper than it already has.
Bill smiles evilly. “Oh, you’re going to help me out, kiddo. If I don’t deliver Castle, I’m done. And we both know full well whatever money your pops left you and your mom is long gone, and I don’t exactly see her getting a job anytime soon.” He smiles thinly. “So, if I go down, this fucking family goes down. You want your poor mom to lose it all? That it?”
The tears brim at my eyes, clouding my vision as I look away.
“Ms. Worthington, if it helps your decision...” Agent Hall puts a hand on my shoulder, and when I turn, I see her giving me a genuinely sad and sorry look.
“You’re not the only one,” she says quietly. “With Damien Castle.”
Something sharp slides through my heart, and I can feel myself start to fall.
“Here,” she gives me an apologetic look as she passes me a manilla envelope. My hands shake as I open it up, but when I slide out what’s inside, my whole body threatens to fall apart.
The pictures are black and white, shot with a telephoto lens, and all of them are of Damien.
…Damien and another young, pretty girl.
My mouth goes dry as I stare at the shots, ones of him smiling and laughing — of him hugging her on the sidewalk outside his building as they step out together. There’s even one of him kissing her on the cheek.
The floor gives out beneath me, and I feel like I’m falling as I slowly let the pictures drop from my hands.
“I didn’t want to show you those,” Agent Hall says quietly. “That’s not how I operate. But, you deserve to know.”
The room is silent as I stare at the floor, and at the pictures I’ve dropped there.
“Think of the family, Lyra,” Bill mutters. “Think of your poor mom. And then think of what a piece of shit Damien Castle really is. Help me put him down, and we all get out okay, and get back to normal.”
Agent Hall coughs, and when I turn back, she’s holding the wire in her hands.
“You won’t even know it’s there, honey.”
And slowly, I nod.
Chapter 12
Damien
“Something’s different with you.”
I glance up sharply so see Cole stepping into my office — without knocking or even notifying my secretary. If it was anyone else, I’d be launching over my desk to rip them a new asshole, but Cole gets a free pass.
Barely.
Cole’s one of my oldest friends, not to mention one of my most trusted advisors in pretty much any facet of my life. He’s as sharp as I am, almost as ruthless, and just as focused. Which is why he’s been my second in command ever since I founded Castle Capital.
I lean back from my desk, raising a brow at him as he closes the door behind him and steps into the office.
“What?”
“I said something’s different with you today. You’re all…fuck, I don’t know. You’re fucking smiling for once. That’s not normal. You got a fever or something?”
I grin and shake my head before I realize that I am smiling and quickly shut it down. Too late though, because Cole spots it.
“See, that. The fuck is up with you man? You get your dick wet after that party last night or something?”
I’m out of my chair, hurtling across the room, and slamming my friend into the wall before I even process it. Red clouds my vision, and I can feel my muscles tense as my hand tightens on his neck.
“Whoa!” Cole barks, shoving me away as I suddenly realize what the fuck I’m doing and loosen my grip. He shoves me again, his eyes narrowing at me.
“Jesus, man! Calm the fuck down!”
We stand there, panting and staring at each other before I finally take a breath.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
Cole grins, shaking his head. “So, that’s a no to getting laid last night I suppose.”
I look away, not knowing how to even answer him. But Cole’s not an idiot, and my lack of an answer is the only answer he needs. His brows arch as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Well then. So that’s a yes?”
I still don’t say a thing, but he just shrugs.
“A yes that you don’t want to talk about, but I can see it’s a yes.”
“It’s nothing,” I mutter.
“Bullshit. Who is she?”
I give him a hard, warning look, but he won’t let it go.
“Someone you don’t think I’d think is a good move.”
“I’m not interested in your opinion,” I hiss.
Cole laughs. “Well, I think you are at least a little bit. It’s why you pay me such a ludicrous amount of money, you know.”
“If your paycheck seems silly to you, I’d be happy to make it smaller.”
He laughs. “I’m good. I could also remind you though that my opinions are also why we’ve been friends for ten years.”
I smile, nodding at him.
“So, this girl; she married?”
I scowl. “No.”
“She a dude?”
I give him a sharp look. “Really?”
Cole grins. “Alright, then what?”
“Leave it,” I mutter. “Seriously.”
He sighs. “Fine, I’m letting you off the hook for now. But only because I’m still hungover from that fucking party last night.”
He claps me on the shoulder before he turns to leave, when suddenly, he stops.
“Oh, and just for the record. Whoever this chick is? If she’s making you smile like this, well, shit man, I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t approve of her.”
I’m still scowling at my friend trying to pry into my head after he leaves, but really, Cole’s right. Long after he’s left my office, I’m still sitting there thinking about what he’s said to me.
I am feeling different.
I’m feeling alive. I’m feeling grounded, but also soaring all at the same time. It’s like I can see clearer, and understand where I’m going like I never have before, and I know without a second’s hesitation that it’s all her.
It’s all Lyra.
Everything about her swirls through my head. The way she can flash that shy smile and just pierce right through all the layers of armor I’ve built up over the years. The way she just fits against me, and the way her soft skin makes me come alive. I think of the way her scent invades every part of me and sets off some sort of caveman reaction inside.
I think of the way she makes me crave her every goddamn waking second. Hell, every sleeping one too. Even just thinking about her now, I’m hard as a fucking rock. It’s like a primal urge to claim her — to pin her down, spread her sweet thighs, and fuck that tight, perfect, gorgeous little pussy until she takes every drop of my cum.
I want to breed her, and show the whole fucking world that she’s spoken for, by me. I want her round, and swollen with child, and when I step into a room holding her hand like that, I want everyone to know it’s me that’s claimed her — that it’s me that’ll be taking her home that night and every single night for the rest of our lives.
The page of that scenario gets my blood roaring hot, and I growl as I shake my head from the day dream.
Speaking of my angel…
I frown, glancing at the clock and seeing it’s ten past nine. She’s late, on her first day here. And no, I’m not mad or anything absurd like that — after all, I’m the one that kept her up half the night. I’m the one that kept her riding
my cock, and clawing at my bedsheets as I bent her over and ran my tongue over her pretty little pussy until she was begging me to take her again.
No, I’m not mad, but I am worried. Everything about Lyra says that she’s got her shit together. She’s not someone to be late, and as inane and paranoid as I know it is, part of me suddenly tenses at the thought that something’s wrong — that she’s been hurt, or harassed, or taken from me. The thought gets me snarling and half lunging out of my chair before I remember to take a breath.
I sit, simmering and reminding myself that all of this is new for me. Caring for someone like this, loving a woman like this — this is all new territory.
Just the same, I call up the building’s security cameras on my computer and start scanning through the angles of the front door. Suddenly, my eye catches a familiar wave of ginger hair, and my heart jumps in my throat. But then, I notice who she’s with, and my mood sours.
Bill.
I know the asshole is part of the deal, for now, and I know putting up with him is too. Again, for now. But still, having him here when I just want to be with my angel is like a little dark cloud I don’t fucking need. But I push that thought away as I watch them get into the elevator to come on up.
All I need is her.
I watch another camera as she steps out, my eyes taking her in and the beast inside of me roaring at the outfit she’s wearing. It’s very office appropriate — knee-length pencil skirt, long-sleeved blouse, with her hair up high. But even still, the fire blazes inside of me. Even still, the caveman in me wants to drag her into this office, bend her over my desk, tear those conservative clothes from her body with my teeth, and then bury every inch of my cock between her legs. I want her on her knees, her mouth open and her tongue out, and then I want her on her back, holding her knees while I run my tongue over every candy sweet inch of her pussy.
My cock lurches, and I groan as I reach down and stroke myself through my suit pants.
Jesus, this is what she does to me. This is the fucking primal animal she turns me into — drooling over her and stroking my dick in my damn office, wanting nothing more than to feel her tight, wet slit slide down my shaft.
And that is exactly what I plan on doing. Right now.
I stand and storm for my office door, and I don’t plan on coming back in here without her.
Chapter 13
Lyra
I gasp, jolting as I feel him come up right behind me. His masculine scent invades my senses, and when I feel his thick cock pressing right against my ass, I almost want to just give in right there. Even with what I know now, all I want to do is bend over my desk, yank my skirt up, and beg him to make me his all over again like he did last night and this morning.
But I can’t. I can’t — not with what I know now. Because now, whatever I thought we had is a poison.
The thought makes me squeeze my eyes shut, determined not to cry here at work, and not in front of him. His hands skim up my sides, and I steel myself, determined not to give in, or moan, or whimper, or turn around and smash my lips to his.
“You were late,” he purrs into my ear, his hands sliding over my hips. I take a shaky breath, biting my lip as I nod slowly.
“Yeah, sorry.”
I can feel him pause, and probably wonder why I haven’t turned around. He can’t know that if I do, I’ll lose it completely. Everything I’ve been told this morning by Bill and the FBI agents tears through my head, and those damn pictures of him and that other girl that Agent Hall showed me bite into something deep inside of me.
And that’s why I can’t turn around. That’s why it hurts so much that I can’t turn and face the man I love, even with what I know.
“Angel,” he growls into my ear, making me gasp even as I try and stop it. “Talk to me.”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip.
“Lyra.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter, using every bit of my strength not to lose it right there. But before I can stop him, he’s turning me around in his arms.
“Look at me,” he says quietly.
I look at his chest, shaking my head slowly.
“Lyra, please,” his voice is tense as he cups my cheek with his soft, warm hand, and gently raises my gaze. His eyes pierce into mine, and suddenly there’s no stopping the tears.
“Fuck, angel,” he growls, pulling me tight to him and wrapping his arms around me — so protective and so loving. I sob into his chest, wanting to hit him, and hate him, and love him all at once. I want to run away and I want to kiss him.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, taking my hand and pulling me after him as he strides down the hallway. We manage to avoid pretty much anyone else before he pulls me into his office and shuts the door quietly behind us. He turns, cupping my face and looking into my eyes with such heat and tenderness that I melt right there.
“Tell me, baby girl,” he says gently, his eyes searching mine. “Talk to me, Lyra.”
“I— I can’t,” I choke out, my pulse thudding in my chest and the room spinning around us.
“Look, whatever it is, you can—”
“I can’t,” I hiss, the tears running down my cheeks as I shake my head at him.
“Yes,” he growls. “Yes you can, love.”
Love.
The word pierces me deep, and suddenly, whatever walls I’ve been trying to build come crashing down. I tumble into him, throwing my arms around him and melting into his chest. He holds me tight, stroking my back and my hair and telling me it’s all going to be okay as I cry into him.
Slowly, I pull back, and this time, when I look up into his eyes, I know I can’t keep this from him — not from this man.
I bring a finger to my lips and slowly, I start to unbutton my blouse. Damien’s brows go up, and there’s the start of a grin on his face until I pop two more buttons, and then, his look goes cold. I open my shirt all the way, and then stand there, my breath hitching and my lip caught between my teeth as I let him see the wire taped between my breasts.
My eyes scan the room, and I quickly move to his desk, grab a pen and notepad, and scrawl a note across the page:
How do I disable this thing???
Damien’s eyes narrow at me, and I can see the anger and betrayal warring behind his eyes. But then, he shakes his head, and when he opens his eyes, all I can see in them is that fierce protectiveness I know. I see that and I see love.
He move towards me, his fingers brushing my skin as he gently and deftly plucks the tape away and pulls the listening device from my body. His finger goes to his lips, and wordlessly, he strides across the room, opens a keypad on the wall, and punches in a code. A small, hidden wall safe pops open, and he tossed the wireless transmitting device inside and slams the door shit.
We’re both quiet for a second, and I watch his shoulders tense before he slowly turns to face me.
“What the fuck is that?”
I swallow, my eyes searching his before I open my mouth.
“I know what you are,” I say quietly.
Damien barks out a brittle laugh, shaking his head. “And what’s that? What am I, angel?” He strides towards me, and I gasp as clutches me up in his arms.
“You know me, Lyra. And I know you know that!”
“They say you’re—”
“They say a lot of things that aren’t true, especially about people who succeed in this damn world,” he snaps, before his look softens.
“Look at me, angel.”
His face is soft and gentle, but I can see the fierceness in his eyes as he levels them with me.
“I know you know me, and you know whatever they’re saying isn’t true.”
“They say you’re stealing,” I say quietly.
“Let me guess, the FBI?”
I swallow, nodding and looking up into his eyes.
“It’s Bill. That’s why they made me wear this and come in here. Bill’s got one on too, because he’s trying to sell you out to save his own…”
But suddenly, all I can think about is the pictures. I trail off and look away, and suddenly whatever heat just bloomed into my heart fades as I think of the images of Damien with some other younger girl — holding her and kissing her cheek, and putting his arm around her.
“There’s something else.”
He says it quietly, his voice gravely as he reaches out and takes my hand. I go to pull it back, but he holds it fast.
“Kelly.”
The word hits me like a slap, and my eyes dart to his. He’s smiling, and I can feel the rage burning up inside of me as I narrow my eyes at him.
“Her name is Kelly. The pictures I’m guessing they showed you.”
“I don’t care what her fucking name is,” I hiss. “Just leave me—”
“She’s my goddaughter, Lyra.”
I freeze, my pulse jumping in my chest as my eyes flash back to his.
Damien smiles, his eyes piercing into mine as he reaches out, takes my hands, and pulls me close.
“Her name is Kelly, she’s twenty-one, and she’s Lorne’s daughter.”
I stare at him.
“Lorne, as in your butler Lorne?”
Damien laughs, his hands sliding up my arms to pull me closer.
“I think butler is maybe an antiquated term. He’s more the chief of staff for my household.”
“I thought you said Lorne was gay?”
“With flying rainbow colors, but Kelly is from his first marriage. You know, when he was faking it I guess.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Lyra, I’ve known her since she was born. She’s my damn goddaughter, and trust me, that’s all there is there. I mean she’s basically family to me.”
I drop my eyes, cringing as I realize how much of a psychopath I’ve just acted like.
“Don’t,” he says lowly, tilting my chin up and letting those eyes of his pierce into me. “Of course you thought it was something else, because I’m sure they framed it to be.”
He smiles at me, and as he draws me close, I can feel the heat and that protective glow melt over me again. He starts to lower his lips to mine, but before he can, I almost tackle him as I lunge into his arms and kiss him with everything I have. He groans, his arms holding me tight as my legs wrap around his waist. He kisses me slow and deep, his groans rumbling through me as his tongue finds mine.