COME WHEN CALLED (Billionaire & Biker Menage Romance)

by Trace, Piper

  “Listen, you little bitch. You—”

  “Put John on speaker.”

  Evie gasped and whirled around at the sound of Ford’s voice. He stood less than five feet away, his posture stiff, fists clenched at his sides. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. This will only take another moment and I’ll be back with you.” Trying to muster a perfectly normal smile for him, her heart pounded in her ears, her blood cold. She mentally raced back over her words, trying to gauge what Ford might have heard.

  “We are putting him on speaker-phone. Tell him.” He nodded toward the phone she’d let drop from her ear, and she saw in the set of his jaw that he was not going to be talked out of it. Slowly, she raised her cell back to her head, trying to assess the damage this was going to cause.

  Dammit. Why hadn’t she just mollified John and gotten off the phone without incident? Was she that self-destructive or did she just keep forgetting that John had the means to have her hurt? And he’d made it clear he was capable of it.

  John’s weedy, irate voice was yelling through the earpiece, but she didn’t allow her brain to process his rant. Instead, she locked her eyes to Ford’s, concentrating on the deep, green intensity in his stare and finding comfort in the fury she saw in them. Something in his stance or the blaze behind his eyes spoke through the connection they shared, and she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her.

  Calmly, she opened her mouth. “John, Mr. Hawthorne would like to speak to you.” John didn’t stop his tirade, and she repeated the sentence again, louder, adding, “He’s asked me to put you on speaker-phone. I’m going to do that now.”

  Ford reached for the phone and she handed it to him, not dropping her eyes from his. For a moment, Ford let the phone fall to his side, ignored, and reached out to take Evie’s hand. He closed his large hand around hers and squeezed, giving her a slight smile before turning and pulling her along behind him, back to the table where they’d been working and playing.

  Studying her phone, he clicked on the speaker button and set the cell on the table, all the while keeping a solid grip on Evie. Now there was only silence on the other end of the phone. “Good evening, John,” Ford said, his voice sounding calculatedly unemotional.

  “Mr. Hawthorne.” John’s voice boomed a little too cheerfully and Ford closed his eyes and shook his head once, a small, neat gesture that Evie caught only because her attention was tuned to him as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. “Let me call you on a conference phone. No need to conduct this business on Evie’s cell. What conference room has Evie set you up in?” Familiar muffled snuffling noises came over the phone, which Evie recognized as John wiping his nose with tissues she was sure were dotted with blood.

  “We’re in the library, John. There is no conference phone in here. Miss Radmin’s cell phone will do just fine.”

  “Evie!” John’s voice had the same exaggerated tone one might use to scold a dog. “Seven conference rooms stocked with luxury furnishings and state-of-the-art equipment, and you take Mr. Hawthorne to a table in the library? Mr. Hawthorne, I truly apologize. If—”

  Ford interrupted before John could continue, his beautiful voice holding the hint of a razor’s edge. “I asked Evie if we could work in the library. Those luxury conference room chairs your firm boasts are so large that two people cannot sit close enough together to review the same document. Nice for putting on a show, but worthless when it comes to getting actual work done. And I’m quite fond of your library tables. I find them to be just the right size for Evie and me.” Ford squeezed Evie’s hand and glanced a crooked smile her way. She felt her face blush, and she covered her mouth with her free hand as a pleasant thrill crackled to life low in her belly, catching her off guard in the midst of the scary mood she’d been dumped in.

  “Oh.” John’s clipped response belied nothing about what he was thinking and he used the pause to sniff a few times again.

  Ford plowed ahead. “Thank you for the phone call to check in on Evie’s progress, but I assure you we’re nearly done and don’t require your help. Evie is taking excellent care of my needs, as always.” Ford used his grip on her hand to pull her against his side, tucking their clasped hands between them. Standing together like that, they faced the phone, and John, side by side.

  Evie couldn’t help it—she felt a huge wave of affection for Ford. He always flirted with her and teased her, but now he was also taking up for her and protecting her. And with Ford’s well-muscled arm pressed against hers, she realized it was the first time in a long time that she actually felt safe.

  “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Hawthorne. This firm takes great pride in handling your legal affairs. We only want to ensure you have the best possible service.”

  “I do.” Ford turned his body, shifting his attention to Evie. Reaching up, he brushed her hair behind her ear in an echo of her own habit and tipped her chin up to meet his eyes. “Whatever you pay her, it’s not enough. I’ve worked with a lot of attorneys,”—Ford inclined his head toward the phone and raised his eyebrows, pausing for effect, and brought a smile to Evie at the private joke—“and Evangeline has one of the best legal and business minds I’ve ever encountered.”

  Her stomach quivered, full of butterflies, and she wasn’t sure which was stronger—her pleasure over what Ford had just said about her, or her fear of how John would react to it. Ford was pushing him, and pushing an unstable guy like John could have bad consequences.

  “Well,” John’s voice came across tight over the line. He wouldn’t like the idea of Ford admiring her work, possibly over his own. “Evie is certainly a valued paralegal. Without the benefit of all of the experience and education that we attorneys have, she still comes up with some clever thinking now and again. With the benefit of my guidance and refining, sometimes her ideas are quite useful.”

  Snapping his head back toward the phone, Ford bristled, mirroring Evie’s body language. His clenched jaw sharpened his profile, and he took a deep breath, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height.

  Oh no.

  “Okay John, because there is no question that you are an arrogant asshole, I’m going to be completely honest with you.” Ford’s voice was scary in its calm quietness. “Your value to this firm has a direct correlation with your ability to retain me as a client. Do not think for a moment I’m ignorant of that fact.” John made some blustering sounds on his end of the phone, but Ford plowed on. “The truth is, the only reason I use you as my attorney is because Evie works for you. There is nothing especially interesting or skilled about you any more so than a thousand other overpriced lawyers.”

  Noises sounding like John shifting the phone to his other ear came across like static. “Mr. Hawthorne,” he started, his tone toeing the line between placating and offended.

  “No.” Ford cut him off cold. “You are unprofessional. You interrupted our meeting—that you skipped—to abuse your paralegal. And I’m not an idiot. It’s clear you have a problem. Every time I see you, which is rarer and rarer—thank god—you are high.” Evie’s mouth dropped open as she looked back and forth from the phone to Ford, horrified.

  “Mr. Hawthorne!” John was not giving up easily.

  “Don’t insult me by acting surprised. I’m wealthy and I move in wealthy social circles with a lot of bored and aimless people. You don’t think I know a cocaine problem when I see one? Now unless you want me to complain to the senior partners, you will leave Evie and me to finish your work without any further disturbances. At all.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. In the still moments Evie wondered if Ford could hear her heart beating.

  “I’m coming down there.” John’s voice was cold when it came slinking back into the hush of the room.

  Jellybeans, Evie thought and pressed closer to Ford, angry at herself even as she did it. After all the time she’d spent in self-defense classes, progressing eventually to advanced kung fu, John could still make her cower. These days, after all of her training and skill, she
could probably kick John’s ass around the library, yet here she was pressed against Ford, praying John would stay away.

  This could not continue. She had to find a way to get out of the firm and away from that man. She was so tired of living in fear.

  Ford dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her against him. Something in Evie melted for him at the calmness the gesture brought her.

  “Don’t even think about coming here tonight.” Ford’s voice boomed through the room. “Do I need to call my private security? He’s waiting with my driver in the car.”

  Silence again. Sniffing. Then a restrained, “Evangeline, we’ll talk tomorrow”, before the line went dead.

  Neither she nor Ford moved, letting the silence wrap around them. Then Evie turned and looked at Ford, not sure what to do. He raised his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a pleasant smile that was totally unsuited to the circumstances. “Wow,” he said in perfect deadpan, “you must really enjoy working for that guy.”

  Though a moment before she’d felt a million miles from the emotion, Evie burst out laughing. When she’d caught her breath, she asked, “Do you really have a bodyguard waiting in the car?”

  “No. I drove myself here, alone.” Ford’s grin showcased his dimples and without thinking Evie touched his waist, her desire for him stronger than ever. Adrenaline from the exchange with John still surged in her veins, and she felt as though she must be radiating desire like heat waves over blacktop in July.

  “Good.” Her wide smile mirrored his. “Because I thought ‘waiting in the car’ was a dumb place for your bodyguard to be.”

  Ford’s brows pulled together momentarily before he laughed, and the deep, reassuring sound of it carried her even further from the distress she’d felt moments earlier. “That’s what you were thinking during that exchange? That I was mismanaging my security?” He wrapped his arms around her and she beamed up at him, relishing the feeling of being held against his firm, well-built frame. It had been a long time since she’d been in the arms of a man.

  “Okay,” she admitted, “I was also thinking that my underwear is in your pocket and the documents are going to need to be reprinted.”

  Ford’s grin took on a mischievous tinge that reached his glittering eyes. “I was also thinking about your red panties in my pocket.”

  Looking up at him from the band of his arms, Evie’s stomach tightened. Her weakness for Ford was too powerful to resist, consequences be damned. But sexual weakness and emotional attachment are two different things, she firmly reminded herself, and with what she’d been through recently, Evie could compartmentalize with the best of them. In fact, she was banking on that.

  Ford’s captivating voice became all business again. “Before we were interrupted, you had work left to do.” He touched her cheek. “And I intend to see that you finish it.” Ford flicked his eyes to hers and now his voice was husky. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined pushing my cock between your lips.” He wet his own lips with a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue, the tongue that had just made her lose her mind on the library table. “Kneel down so I can do that to you.”

  The space between their bodies was suddenly too much for Evie. A noise escaped her that sounded like a whimper as she fully surrendered herself to the moment. She wanted him to shove his cock into her mouth, to take anything he wanted from her.

  Their agreement allowed her to enjoy their tryst without wondering if it was going to work out, where it was heading, would John hurt them both, would Ford hurt her? Her solitary life for the past six months had been a living nightmare of worry and constant stress about her problem with John and the money she owed him. How would she get out of her situation? Where would she go? Could she be safe again?

  But if she let Ford take control, she’d be free, at least for those moments.

  She knelt in front of Ford on legs quivering with adrenaline and lust, and he sat back in his chair. Placing her hands on his thighs, she looked up at him for direction.

  She’d never touched him sexually before, in spite of all the times she’d fantasized about it. But if she was going to do it, she wasn’t going to ignore the dynamic between them driving the pulse of excited blood through her pussy—the dynamic they’d created of him being charge. The idea of it was making her crazy with lust. She’d analyze it later. Maybe.

  Meeting his smoldering gaze, she offered him the cue for what it was that she really wanted—for him to command her. “It sounds like I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, Mr. Hawthorne.” Not moving her eyes from his, she silently telegraphed her permission for him to control her—no, she begged him to do it.

  His eyes softened and his lips parted in what looked like surprise, and for just a moment, Evie could swear she saw a look of honest affection sweeten his beautiful features. Then it was gone, replaced by a mask of dominance that made her tremble with a nearly manic level of arousal.

  She fought the urge to look away, afraid for him to see the truth in her eyes of what she would allow this man to do to her, what she wanted him to do to her. She was frightened of that truth herself.

  But he seemed to understand what she wanted, maybe even more than she did. His deep voice thrummed through her like a current and heat sizzled in every nerve ending as Ford looked down at her with the face of an angel and said the wicked words she would look back on later as those that ruined her sexually for any other man.

  “I’m tired of asking politely. Suck my cock now, Evangeline. I’ve been patient long enough.”

  A feral groan bubbled from her throat. He grabbed her hands and pulled them into his lap where his erection had swelled noticeably against the front of his trousers, pressing her hands against his hardness. He felt substantial and strong, and without meaning to she made an appreciative “mmm” sound and moved her fingers over the soft fabric, exploring the contours of his erection.

  God, he felt good.

  Ford’s smile spread and he closed his eyes, crooking his lips in an expression that evinced delight in what she was doing to him. “Yes…make me come,” he whispered.

  He pushed against her hands, grinding her palms on his stiff penis. She trembled as a shudder of pleasure swept through her. Until then the kinkiest thing she’d ever done was deep-throat a cock, something she had a surprisingly unique talent for, so it unnerved her to discover that she was enjoying being…

  What was it called? Being given orders? Being forced? Was she into some kind of kink she’d never realized before?

  She was nearly as curious as she was aroused. She didn’t want to just play—she wanted to dive in and find out what was making her so out of her mind with lust. She wanted to test the limits. Stilling her hands, she stopped touching him and met his eyes, her body quivering with anticipation of Ford escalating the encounter. Praying he would take her cue and understand what she wanted from him.

  He did.

  A shadow flashed across his face. His beautiful voice was now kissed with an ominous promise, and he said what she wanted to hear. “Are you going to force me to persuade you, love? Because I will if I must. I have no intention of stopping. You are going to make me come.”

  At his brutish words, desire exploded in her—a wild yearning she’d never felt. And then understanding clicked into place like a firecracker going off in her head. She realized what it was he was doing that turned her on so thoroughly.

  She was enjoying being dominated. Mastered.

  She’d never felt such all-consuming excitement. It was as if she’d been set on fire, set free. She wanted him to make her do it, to use her body for his pleasure, to take what he wanted from her.

  Refocusing her attention back to his still fully clothed erection, she stroked him through the fabric, loving the way he felt under her fingers. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to meet his eyes, pressing his thumb across her bottom lip again. She parted her full lips for him obediently and he smiled, pushing his thumb into her mouth.
“That’s my girl,” he breathed.

  Evie closed her lips around Ford’s thumb instinctively and sucked it, not moving her eyes from his. He shut his eyes and groaned, sending a thrill through her at the masculine vibration of it. Sucking harder, she caressed him with her tongue, wanting to give him a taste of what she could do to him.

  He must have liked it, because at that, he brought his other hand to his waist and fumbled with his belt buckle, one-handed. He seemed to be in a hurry to get his cock out of his pants.

  She moaned at the thought of him so anxious to free his erection and the noise drew a hiss of breath from him. Pulling his thumb out of her mouth, he lifted out of his seat enough to yank his pants down in one swift movement.

  His cock, now free, bobbed heavily in front of her face and she reveled at the sight of it. Swollen and standing temptingly erect, it looked purple in its need for release. She wanted it in her mouth. Ford didn’t take the time to remove his shirt. Instead he hastily unbuttoned the lower buttons and settled back, spreading his shirt apart to keep the fabric out of the way and throwing his tie over his shoulder.

  He wrapped one of his large hands around his cock and there was still a substantial portion of it left visible.

  His cock was glorious. No wonder the women coming out of the limos with him are always smiling.

  Below his fist, the skin of his scrotum was drawn tight, darkened and, she was interested to see, shaved clean. She’d never felt particularly drawn to that part of a man’s anatomy before, but Ford’s smooth balls looked so enticing pillowed at the base of his dick that she found herself wanting to snake her tongue around their smoothness, draw them one at a time into her mouth to suck them too. She began to press her thighs together rhythmically as she knelt, encouraging the good feelings growing there again.

  Looking as he was and sitting like that, still half-dressed in a monogrammed shirt with his silk tie thrown over his shoulder, he looked like a complete gentleman visiting a whorehouse to get his cock sucked by someone who knew what they were doing—absolutely naughty. Very sexy.