His Captive, The Unabridged Collection: Billionaire Dark Romance

by Watson, Meg

  The bouncer nodded and William walked behind him and through the open door into the club. Several people at the front of the line groaned in disgust.

  “Oh my god,” Gabbie gasped.

  “Oh my god,” Riley repeated. “Camille, wasn’t that your brother?”

  “Stepbrother,” I corrected her automatically. I felt dizzy. What was he doing here?

  I had almost managed to put him out of my mind since I started spending my days at the office, but seeing him now made my heart start to race. He looked so handsome, so dashing… so different than he looked at home.

  Senior year in high school, I just started to develop these… urges. I don’t know how else to explain it. The boys at school would ask me out and I would try, but there was just no one in my life who came close to William.

  Our house was big enough that you would think I could just avoid him. When I started listening to loud music, my mother moved my room to the east wing, near the pool. I was practically in Siberia and secretly grateful that I wouldn’t have to squeeze past him in the upper hallway near the foyer anymore, which always seemed to get dramatically claustrophobic when he was near.

  Yet he always managed to turn up. I ran into him as he came back from the sauna or they gym. I ran into him when I dashed out to the pool on Saturday mornings for a quick swim before my mother could invent some household chores to “keep me humble” as she always claimed.

  I did my best to be humble, to be quiet, and most of all to avoid William, who I was almost certain could read my mind. Every time I saw him my mouth went as dry as toast and my knees knocked together. His tousled blonde hair made my hands flutter in the air, halfway on a mission to tangle my fingers in his locks. My panties went all swampy in a way that no other man had ever inspired. Could he tell? I never could translate his smirk, but I suspected he knew.

  Eventually I just gave up. If I couldn’t have the one man in the world who made me wet, I would just wait it out. It had to go away eventually, I reasoned. I tore into my mother’s chores with gusto, and taught myself the basics of server and wi-fi maintenance, along with a smattering of SEO and social marketing. If you could learn it on YouTube, I was all over it.

  But it never went away, and the warm gush between my thighs as William walked by told me it was as strong as ever. That was the man who turned me on. And yes, I grew up with him. And yes, I knew it was wrong. But I wanted him so bad my belly ached just thinking about it.

  The bouncer motioned another threesome past the velvet rope, then cast his eyes back to his clipboard. Gabbie and Riley crossed their arms in anticipation. Looking over them to the door, I could see a throng of bodies silhouetted against the strobe lights, undulating in time to the music. It was all I could do to pretend the music wasn't getting to me, but I didn’t want more mockery from Riley.

  Looking over his shoulder and at a small group of co-eds and their new best friend businessmen dates as they left, the bouncer saluted smartly, then turned back and unhooked the rope. Riley and Gabbie pressed forward, but he craned his head to look past them and said, “You.”

  I looked around like a character in a sitcom, pantomiming the classic Who me?

  “Yes you, let’s take a look at you,” he cooed in a voice that seemed out of sync with his longshoreman-type build.

  I shouldered between Gabbie and Riley and stood still, feeling vaguely uneasy as he looked me up and down. Was I supposed to be more dressed up? I was wearing a pink lacy minidress and strappy heels with a chain around the ankle.

  His eyes seemed to slide up and down my inseam a lot slower than necessary and he lingered at my pink-polished toes.

  “Size 9?” he purred, arching his eyebrow.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nevermind, pet, come on in,” he said with a winsome smile and held the rope aside.

  I walked through but turned when I didn’t feel Gabbie and Riley right behind me. The bouncer replaced the rope and looked back down at his clipboard while Riley silently fumed, and Gabbie stared at me with her mouth open.

  “We were next,” Gabbie said, clenching her jaw.

  “Were you?” the bouncer asked without looking up. I shuffled back toward them nervously.

  “You know we were,” Gabbie whined.

  The bouncer looked up, cocking his head ingratiatingly.

  “They are with me,” I offered in a voice that came out all quavery and self-conscious.

  The bouncer glanced at me and winked. “You go on in, sweetie,” he said then turned back to Gabbie and Riley.

  “Do you ladies know where you are?”

  Riley snorted. “The Still?” she asked sarcastically.

  “That’s right,” the bouncer nodded. “So not a hayride and not a hoedown.”

  “Excuse me?” Gabbie sneered.

  “You heard me!” he drawled. “You are not getting in here in your gym clothes, girls, so best be off with you.” He made flicking motions with his fingertips. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping with delight. “You there,” he called, motioning to the crew behind Gabbie, “come on up here, sugar, you’re next.”

  “Fuck you!” Riley yelled. She glared at me. “Camille, come on, we’re outta here.”

  I stood my ground nervously. The music swelled behind me invitingly. With a smile, the bouncer gestured to the door by raising his chin. “You’re wanted inside, Camille. You can catch a cab later.”

  “Yeah, I’ll catch a cab later!” I repeated awkwardly, grateful for the easy answer. “See you!” And before their amazed and furious expressions could fully register in my brain, I spun on my heel and slipped through the front door into the crowd.

  ***

  The club was so dark I felt suffocated and blind the moment I walked in. Standing still, I let my eyes adjust to the scene.

  The room was lit in splashes that pulsed with the music. There were a couple hundred people undulating in a single knotted mass on the enormous dance floor. Smoke machines poured out cool waves of mist.

  After about a minute, I could make out individual faces and bodies. People danced in small groups and alone, their heads back, eyes closed. It looked like a clothed orgy, with all that flesh pressed together. My thighs ached for that contact. I wanted to be among them, feeling the push and pull of a hundred people acting like one giant, pulsing organism.

  But I also wanted to watch, and I hung back, slinking along the perimeter of the group, sipping vicariously from their energy. The music bounced back to a thunderous, bass-driven tune with a repetitive, trancelike horn line. I circled toward the bar.

  The bartender didn’t even ask me what I wanted. He slid up to meet me as I walked up, then nodded before I opened my mouth. Turning his back, he grabbed a stainless steel shaker and started pouring a few things into it, then shook it athletically over one shoulder and strained it out into a chilled martini glass.

  Pivoting back, he met my gaze with a confident grin and slid the glass toward me. I opened my mouth to speak but it was hopeless. The music was too loud. He just shook his head and crinkled his nose in an expression that said don’t bother, it’s too loud. Shrugging, I pulled a twenty out and laid it on the bar.

  The liquid was a light leafy green and had tiny bubbles. Flecks of an herb danced over the shards of a few ice chips. I sniffed it cautiously before tilting it over my lower lip.

  Then, wow. That was gin… mint… lime? It tasted like a mojito made from a Christmas tree. It was spicy and slightly sweet at the same time. My mouth had been dazzled, if that was even possible.

  I looked up at the bartender who was staring at me expectantly. I must have had an expression that perfectly conveyed the wondrous delight I was feeling, because he grinned confidently and winked at me. He slid my change toward me and I plucked a couple singles out, leaving him the rest, and turned back toward the dancers.

  Leaning on one elbow on the bar to keep the room safely stabilized, I let my gaze wander back over the throng. They swayed so dramatically, I felt like I
was on the verge of vertigo, or on the verge of being washed into them like a pebble plucked off the sand by the tide.

  A large white screen bordered the back end of a raised platform. It glowed softly violet, changing color slowly, brightening almost imperceptibly. As I watched, shadows seemed to appear on it, the silhouettes of dancers with their arms raised, hair tossed, hips swivelling. After a moment, I realized they were back lit, and must be behind the scrim.

  Curious, I walked on to the stage and stood, moving my shoulders and swaying in time to the music. The bass was so dense I could feel it thrumming through my whole body. Breathing deeply, I let the music push me back and forth. The shadows on the scrim looked like my backup dancers, I thought with a tiny, private sigh of delight. Even though we were yards apart, I felt utterly connected to the dancers. Their rhythm was my rhythm.

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back slightly just to feel everything coming through me. Deliberately pushing any remaining awkwardness aside, I let the music flow. Soon I was swaying and pulsing in time, matching the shapes of the shadow on the wall in my mind. I opened my eyes again to see them, and then caught my breath in my throat, nearly choking.

  William stood just inches from me. His arms were crossed over his chest and his chin was lowered. His pale eyes burned from under his knit brow, and a lock of wavy hair fell down to his cheekbone. His expression was so intense, I immediately thought he was furious with me and frantically searched my mind for a reason. Was I in trouble? I felt like a little girl who had been caught stealing candy.

  I stood as still as a deer in headlights, waiting for some sign from his expression. What should I do? My mouth opened and closed fruitlessly. It was too loud - he would never hear anything I said anyway. So I just stood there for a few seconds, panicking, and then I shrugged and attempted a charming smile, just like at home.

  He cocked his head slightly, as though my smile didn’t make any sense. Then he rocked back a little and his nostrils flared as though he had laughed, maybe just a little. I could have sworn his expression softened. I watched him closely. Was there more? Could we talk? Why was he looking at me like that?

  But suddenly he turned on his heel and stalked away. I watched him for a few moments, my heart thundering in my ears. I felt that same intense longing that I used to, the feeling I had worked so hard to crush out of my mind. Whenever William was around, I wanted to fall into him like a magnet. My thighs quivered and I felt the sticky damp of my panties clinging to me. And now he was disappearing around the side of the scrim and it felt like a piece of velcro was being torn off me.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I darted after him. Turning around the corner of the screen, I saw the crowd of people and stopped. There were so many of them it took me by surprise. William had disappeared.

  I searched the crowd frantically. The dancers had closed ranks and moved like a single being. He was gone. Disappointment flared in me. What are you doing? I scolded myself. Let it go! Don’t follow him!

  But then a flash of violet to my left turned my head and I saw him vanishing into a brief void among the dancing bodies. Dashing forward, I tried to fit myself between them before he was gone. It was like chasing the white rabbit. Flesh and fabric pressed against me on all sides as I pushed through. His shoulder appeared, and then disappeared, and I stumbled ahead, trying to keep up.

  When I finally reached the other side of the throng, he was nowhere. I searched the bar ahead of me, then glanced backwards and to the sides.

  Stop and think! I commanded myself. What would you even say to him? Just let it go…

  Another flash of blue and violet rounded the bar to my right and I set off after it, temporarily blinded by an intense strobe. Shielding my eyes from the light, I stumbled around the bar and back. It was a dark hallway, leading to a few doors. Trailing my fingers along the wall to keep my bearings, I hurried forward. I came to another corridor on the left and took it abruptly, not knowing where it led but needing at least to try. The mission overtook my mind.

  Find him.

  But he wasn’t in the hallway and it just seemed to get darker, the longer I walked. Soon even the music was farther away and I could hear the sounds of my own breathing and the clack of my heels against the hard floor. I paused for a moment, holding the wall and panting. How did I get so out of breath?

  OK, this is crazy. Just stop now.

  Listening to my heart beat, I leaned my head on the wall. It was cool and hard like plaster. I tried to get my bearings and some sanity back into my rushing thoughts.

  This isn’t high school, Camille. That’s your stepbrother. Get over it.

  Slowly, deliberately, I gathered my composure. I wasn’t a kid anymore with a childish infatuation for the handsome older boy who happened to live in my house, I told myself. I could control this. I needed to get myself together and head back, if I could find my way. Maybe lose myself in the crowd, just dance until all my thoughts lost their words and became just primal notions of music and community. Find some other man and fuck his brains out, finally, just to bust that cherry that was like a constant reminder of something I was saving for someone who would never have it.

  That was it. That was a good plan.

  But why was he staring at me like that?

  Cursing myself, I let out a frustrated sigh and stood straight. This would not ruin my night, I told myself firmly, the way it had ruined so much of high school. I would not let my weird, unrequited obsession take over. I was going to go back out there and dance, and that was that.

  With my fingers on the wall, I walked slowly back out the way I had come. My eyes had adjusted to the light but everything looked dim and snowy like a poorly tuned in TV station.

  I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks, my breath hitching in my chest. He stood casually against the wall as though he had been waiting for me. When I came around, he raised his jaw slightly. I stood still and waited, fighting an intense vertigo.

  He jerked his chin slightly, indicating the hallway I had just exited. Slowly I backed up, but I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. I wanted to make sure he was real, and not just an apparition I had invented.

  He stared intensely at me as we entered the corridor. A million thoughts tumbled forward in my mind but I bit them all back, afraid of what I might say if I opened my mouth.

  Pivoting slightly, I found myself with my back to the wall. He came closer. His eyes stared intensely at me, almost glowing in the low light. I swallowed, hard, and pressed my palms to the cool wall.

  “What are you doing here?” he said finally. His voice was low and sexy and set something burning in the pit of my belly.

  I shook my head, unsure what to say. A thousand thoughts rushed through my brain, including crazy notions from my pussy like Ask him to touch you! Tell him you want him!

  “I asked you a question, Camille,” he said in a low voice.

  He stepped closer to me. We were about the same height, I realized, because of my heels. It was strange to meet him eye to eye like this. He had the broad, muscular chest of a college wrestler. His collar was open at the neck and I could see his pulse fluttering between his collarbones. Vaguely I wondered where his tie had gone. Hadn’t he been wearing one? I was almost sure of it.

  The low light from sconce above my head gleamed softly off his full lower lip. I swallowed hard. My mouth had gone as dry as sand.

  Meeting his eyes was a struggle. Half of me wanted to run away before all my secret thoughts came flying out, and the other half of me wanted to fall forward. I could smell his warm, bourbon breath and the musk from his skin. Breathing deeply, I let his scent fill my nose and mouth like honey.

  He came closer to me. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. I stayed completely still as he lowered his face slightly, nearing my neck. Was he smelling me too?

  “What is it you’re looking for, Camille?” he murmured in my ear. My heart flip-flopped.

  “I— I was lo
oking for you,” I breathed. It was the truth - I had practically chased him all over the club.

  “Looking for me? Why?” He drew back and fixed me again in his intense gaze. All I could do was nod. Words wouldn’t come.

  “Tell me.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t.

  “Because you want me, Camille?”

  You want me, Camille? The words sounded thrilling coming off his tongue. He said my name. My pussy throbbed in my panties. I nodded tentatively, shocking myself.

  “Then you have to say it.”

  “What?” I stammered.

  “Tell me what you thought of. Tell me what you want.”

  My mind raced. I couldn’t just tell him. What if he laughed at me? But if I didn’t say anything, I was terrified he would leave this place.

  Just tell him, I urged myself. Tell him now.

  “I— I used to think about you.”

  He nodded slowly. “Tell me what you thought about.”

  Fear gripped me. How could I say it all? After I worked so hard to suppress it?

  “I used to think about us… alone together.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I used to think about you… Taking me.”

  “Taking control?” he said in a silky, confident voice.

  I shuddered with longing and nodded. Yes, I thought. Yes!

  “Like how?” he asked.

  I bit my lip as a surge rushed through me. I wanted to touch him. Making me think of all these things was unlocking the desires I had so carefully hidden. But now that he was in front of me, I absolutely pulsed with all that pent-up want.

  “I used to think about you… Just taking me. Taking over. Making me yours,” I said in all in a rush, startling myself by my boldness. But it was true. A million times I had imagined him tossing my school books to the side and pinning me against my rumpled bedspread in one of his wrestling holds.