by Alison Ryan
Chapter Three
I watched him sleep.
It was still hard to believe he was back in my life. It was even harder to believe I’d allowed him back in so easily. But pretending to be hesitant would have been me lying to myself; as if I’d ever had a choice when it came to him.
He was so handsome. Stubble marked his face. Nolan was someone who needed to shave daily. He was a man full of testosterone, someone who could have probably grown a mountain man’s beard in a week.
My mind wandered and I imagined what he might look like with such a beard. Shirtless, chopping wood next to our cabin, deep in the woods somewhere. Maybe in the mountains around Lake Tahoe. He looked damn good. I squeezed my thighs together to stifle what the image in my brain was doing to my body.
He laid in the compact bed of the plane, his muscled forearms crossed over his chest, his face so peaceful.
How he could sleep right now, I would never know.
I looked out the window into the night. It was cloudless as the Gulfstream glided through the sky. It was dark below, the occasional small city’s lights dotting the way. I wondered what state we were over now. I envied the people below us, all sleeping soundly, living lives of simplicity with the people they loved. I let my mind drift from Nolan the mountain man to Nolan the average Joe, wondering what it would be like to live in one of those houses with Nolan, Nolan the mechanic or carpenter or fireman. A “normal” kind of life of barbecues and, someday, PTA meetings. Only the dull ache Nolan’s cock left in my core reminded me that no life with him, no matter how mundane, could ever be “normal.”
Still, it was something I would have done anything to have. Normalcy. Happiness. A life with a distinct lack of surprises.
I thought of my father. Wherever he was, was he happy? Did he miss me?
Would I ever really see him again?
If Nolan said I would, I had to believe him. It was all that was getting me through this.
“Good morning, passengers,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Just letting you know we’re about 30 minutes from Vancouver and should be landing shortly.”
The pilot’s voice shook me from a deep and dreamless sleep.
I sat up in my chair, already regretting falling asleep in it. My neck and back were sore, my mind in a fog, adjusting to where I was.
“Camilla.”
His voice stirred me awake.
“We’re almost there?” I said stretching. “I feel like we just left. I’m so tired.”
“I promise, I’ll get you straight to the hotel and you can sleep all day if you want,” Nolan said.
“No, I’m okay,” I said, sitting up. “I’ll be fine. The sooner we meet with Emerson Titan, the sooner I can see my father. I don’t want to waste any time on things like sleep.”
“Camilla, being exhausted isn’t going to make things happen faster,” Nolan replied. “It’s just going to make time move much more slowly. Rest is going to be important.”
I sighed. Sometimes he spoke to me like I was a girl, but when his hands and mouth were on my body I was all woman. His woman. Maybe.
I didn’t know what we were to each other, to be honest.
When we disembarked from the jet we were met by two tall, imposing men in sleek black suits and dark sunglasses.
“What, we need the secret service while we’re here?” I asked. “To protect us?”
Nolan shook his head as we headed to the waiting SUV. “They’re here to protect Emerson. They’re his men. He never leaves home without them. And he never meets anyone unless they’re escorted by these guys.”
I stared at the bodyguards, their expressions revealing nothing. They were fortresses of men; the sorts of men I would want to be by my side if I was ever worried about the wrong kinds of people coming after me.
We slid into the back seat of the black Range Rover, Nolan immediately putting his hand on my thigh, making goosebumps rise on my skin again.
“You’ve never been in a safer vehicle than this one,” he said, as one of Emerson’s men slid into the driver’s seat. The sound of the locks going down made me jump.
“Yeah? What is it, bullet proof?” I joked, grabbing on to his muscled arm as we began to drive off the tarmac. The driver still hadn’t spoken a word to us, despite clearly being able to hear our conversation.
“More than that. It’s IED proof. It has a blast-proof undercarriage. The windshield can take a .308 caliber rifle that shoots armor-piercing rounds,” Nolan explained. “It’s pretty amazing how they do it. A company in South Carolina completely disassembles the vehicle and re-engineers everything they possibly can from the wheels up, with safety and security in mind. The added weight means the engine has to be modified as well, more powerful. It doesn’t come cheap. Oh. And it has plenty of cup holders. Almost too many, really.” He winked at me. “It’s made especially for diplomats and billionaires. The President travels in limousines identical to this, although his have a few offensive capabilities that this one doesn’t. Classified stuff.”
Suddenly, I was nervous. Why the hell did we need to travel in something like this?
Nolan must have sensed my apprehension. “Don’t worry. This is just how Emerson rolls. We’re not in any danger at the moment.”
At the moment. Great.
We arrived at the Four Seasons less than twenty minutes after disembarking. And fatigue was hitting me hard. I yawned next to Nolan as we pulled up, my head on his shoulder. He touched my cheek affectionately.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m really beautiful right now. Exhausted and still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.”
“You’re stunning,” he said, leaning over to whisper in my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about how quickly I need to get you alone in our suite.”
I smiled, my heart thumping against my chest. Could he hear it?
“Isn’t Emerson here?” I asked.
Nolan nodded. “He’s somewhere in the vicinity. But we have time before we see him.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t so tired anymore.
Chapter Four
Nolan Weston both terrified and titillated me. It was that combination of fear and complete desire that made sex with him something that I was sure no one else on this planet could ever have possibly experienced.
As soon as we were in the royal suite at the Four Seasons, his hands were on me. The bulky men in suits were stationed outside of our door, but he had me pushed against it on the other side as his mouth traveled down my neck and to the low V of my blouse.
“Fuck, I love your body,” he said, taking me in with his eyes. He ran his hands beneath me, taking handfuls of my ass like he owned it, then moving his fingertips up my sides as he kissed my neck. His hands met gently at my throat, cradling my chin for a moment and staring into my eyes before he pulled my breasts out of the cups of my bra. “I’m going to fuck you right now, Camilla. And though I was slow with you last night, there’s no way I can hold back this time.” He lifted me up, his hands under my ass as I wrapped my legs around him. “The question is, where? On the bed? On the floor? Against the window so the world can watch you writhe and scream for me?”
I kissed him, long and deep. “I don’t care where. All of the above. Just don’t let go of me. Ever.”
The size of him. The feel. As he fucked me on the California king bed I could see us from the large full-length mirror that hung on the wall next to the bed. My body was all curves and smooth lines. I couldn’t help but admire the woman I had become as I watched the man of my filthiest dreams pound me from behind. His large hands were on my hips as he thrusted in and out of me. I looked flushed and heated; a lusty look in my eyes I couldn’t recognize. My hair was tousled, strewn wildly on the bed around my face. It was like looking at a stranger. I had never been more aroused.
Is this why people taped themselves having sex? I guess I understood it now.
I looked so young and he looked so
much older, something that turned me on even more. It made this feel so forbidden, being the ingénue under his skilled hands. I cried out as I came for him, my wetness gushing from me, lubricating the place where he continued his assault on my sex.
“I can feel you coming,” he growled. “Only I can do that to your body. Say it, Camilla.”
“Only you can make me come, Mr. Weston,” I pleaded. “I need more. Please.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, flipping me onto my back, continuing his thrusting. “You’re getting fucked until you beg me to stop.”
“So I guess you’ll be fucking me forever,” I said, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “Because I never want this to stop.”
I mounted him an hour later, still needing him. He hadn’t come yet and I wanted his seed inside of me so badly. I had never been taken by a man with such absolute control, such orgasmic discipline. I knew I felt good to him, he told me as much, but somehow he could just fuck me and fuck me and never allow himself to release. I wanted to be marked by him. In every way.
The look on his face as I rode him made me feel so satisfied in my own skills as his lover. It was a look of primal craving, but also intense love. His hands held my hips as I rolled them against him, his girth hitting me in the right places as I called out to him, letting him know the pleasure he was giving me.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he said. “Do you want that?”
“Yes!” I cried out. “More than anything.”
He yelled out as he released and I could feel it inside of me. Warm and pulsing. I laid down on him, my ear against his chest. The sound of his heart pounding made me smile.
I did that, I thought. I made his heart race. I made him come. I took the control from him. Nothing he could do could stop his body from responding to what mine commanded his to do.
I showered after a brief nap in his arms, invigorated by our lovemaking and still eager to see Emerson Titan.
Nolan joined me and we kissed, our bodies slippery against each other.
“I love you,” he said, running his hands up and down my wet, naked body.
He said it with such conviction.
“I love you more than anything, Nolan,” I said.
He stared into my eyes for a long moment. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I would have given anything to know.
“I’m going to dry off and get dressed,” he said, giving me one last kiss on the mouth. “I hate to leave you when you look this sexy, but we should meet Emerson soon.”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to see him.”
As he closed the glass shower door behind him, I wondered if he felt like this after each time we made love. Because at that moment I felt like there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him.
All he’d ever have to do was ask. The power I gave him over me was not something I ever imagined I’d freely give to anyone. But that was how it was with Nolan.
I was his, no matter what.
Chapter Five
Emerson Titan was not the stereotypical billionaire mogul. He was a personality as much as anything else.
People magazine loved to run stories on him a couple of times a year. He graced the cover of Forbes several times every decade. He rubbed elbows with Hollywood’s elite, even more so than Wall Street’s. Of course, he was also a partial owner of one of the largest movie studios in Los Angeles, among his other investments.
But he was someone who used that sort of influence for good. There were so many rumors about the pure, altruistic deeds of Emerson Titan. I had never heard anything negative about the man. He was America’s favorite rich guy. The people who worked for him were fiercely loyal because he treated them so well.
And so when I met him, I was slightly star struck.
In a conference room somewhere on the fourth floor of the Four Seasons, Emerson Titan sat at the end of a large, oval-shaped table that had enough seats for 20 people. He sat alone, flanked by more men in suits to match the ones who had walked with us from our room to here.
As we entered the room and he noticed our presence, his face lit up.
“Nolan Weston!” he said, a laugh at the edge of his deep voice. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Nolan said walking toward him, a hand extended.
“No handshakes, my boy. This isn’t a business meeting,” Emerson dismissed his hand and hugged him, like he would a son. It was very obvious Nolan and Emerson shared a close friendship.
Emerson’s eyes met mine as he pulled away from Nolan. “And this is Camilla. Richard’s girl.” When he said my father’s name his tone of voice changed. “I was so devastated to hear about his passing, Camilla. My condolences, child. Aren’t you a beautiful girl? You look so much like your mother.”
I was surprised. “You knew my mother?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, glancing at Nolan. “She was friends with my late wife.” He said nothing else.
“Well, she’s dead too,” I said, and suddenly realized I’d turned this light moment into something heavier. I was a girl with two dead parents and for some reason I’d decided to remind a stranger of this fact.
Except one of them isn’t dead, I reminded myself. But he doesn’t know that. I don’t think.
Emerson walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He wasn’t as tall as Nolan. He was perhaps six-feet. But his presence was big and the way he looked at me made me want to cry into his shoulders.
“I know,” Emerson said. “I’m so sorry. You have been through so much.”
I nodded, blinking back tears.
Nolan was next to me now, his hand grabbing my own.
“Thanks for meeting with us, Emerson,” Nolan said. “We need to talk about something, but it has to be in a safe place with no one listening in.” Nolan looked at the men surrounding us. “No offense, guys.”
As usual, the men in suits gave no expression or acknowledgment.
“That serious?” Emerson asked, looking at Nolan. “You know, I usually don’t have this kind of security detail, but with what’s been happening with Atlas and with the people at Elixir…”
“I know,” Nolan stopped him. “It’s a scary time. How is Atlas?”
“Not great,” Emerson sighed. “Somehow his location was compromised. He and Piper have gone dark again. And she’s almost due. You heard about Odin, didn’t you?”
Nolan nodded his head. Mine was spinning. I had no idea who they were talking about, it felt like they were speaking in code.
“This can’t keep going on,” Nolan said. “We have to stop it.”
“Trust me, no one wants an end to this more than I do,” Emerson said. “Okay. I’ll clear the room. I’ll have my men wait outside.”
The five bodyguards that had surrounded Emerson as he sat at the table, and the two men who escorted us to the conference room, marched rigidly out the door.
The last one to leave spoke to Emerson. “We’ll be right outside, sir. And the room is clean. We checked it before you entered.”
“Thanks, Nigel,” Emerson said.
And now we were alone with one of the most powerful men in the world.
And I still didn’t know why.
Chapter Six
“Who is Atlas?” I asked as we sat down.
“He’s my son,” Emerson said. “My eldest.”
“Why is he in hiding?” I asked.
Nolan cleared his throat. “Camilla, that’s really classified information, and not something you need to concern yourself with.”
“No,” Emerson said, holding his hand up. “It’s fine. Though Nolan is right, the only reason I shouldn’t tell you is because it puts you in danger to have that knowledge. Something I wouldn’t do. Not to Richard’s daughter.”
“You know my father,” I said, realizing I wasn’t speaking in the proper tense. “I mean… You knew him.”
Emerson nodded. “Oh, yes. Your father was one of my most trusted advisors. I have been with his firm since it
s inception. When your grandfather still ran it.”
My grandfather. Dad’s dad. I’d never met him.
“It’s amazing the things I learn about him,” I muttered. “You knew him a hell of a lot better than I ever did.”
Emerson looked at me, sadness marking his eyes. “He was a private man. He had to be in his line of work. I know he adored you. Richard thought you hung the moon.”
A lump formed in my throat.
Nolan spoke. “We’re here to talk about Richard. And to tell Camilla how you’re connected to him. She should know, Emerson.”
Emerson looked at Nolan, his expression hesitant. “Why is that important now, Nolan? Richard has passed. And she’s in danger just by being his daughter. I won’t burden her with things that could get her killed. You should know better.”
Nolan shook his head. “But we need your help. No one else can provide us with what you can.”
“What are you talking about?” Emerson said, glancing over at me.
“Richard isn’t dead,” Nolan said. “And Camilla needs to be with him. No one else knows he’s alive except the people in this room. And I want it to stay that way.”
Emerson’s face went pale. It was clear to me that he really hadn’t known.
“Richard is alive?” Emerson asked, clearly puzzled. “But… he had a stroke. His body…”
“It’s complicated, but I was able to make arrangements with the kind of people who are very good at making things look how you want them to look,” Nolan said. “Richard knew if he just pretended to be lost at sea, they’d never have believed it. They would have gone after Camilla to try to get him out of hiding. There had to be no doubt he was dead.” Nolan rested his arms on the table. “And clearly, it worked. You had no suspicions.”
“No reservations at all,” Emerson said. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or to be frightened. Where is he?”
“I think some things are best left unsaid,” Nolan replied. “For both our sakes.”