COME WHEN CALLED (Billionaire & Biker Menage Romance)

by Trace, Piper

  A shiver went through her and she picked her wine back up and finished it, mainly because she didn’t know what to say in response. Were they still talking about knife-throwing?

  Ford stood up, taking her empty flute. “This ex-boyfriend would be wise to steer clear of you.”

  While Evie knew he was referring to her own self-defense skills, his words still made her feel protected. She’d been living every minute with a steady niggling fear in the back of her mind, and driving through Ford’s gate, knowing Boone was on guard behind her was like a weight finally off her shoulders.

  Ford placed their glasses on a polished wood bar at the side of the room and turned back to her, leaning against the bar and crossing his arms. The pose highlighted his upper-body muscles and Evie couldn’t believe she was going to be paid to be around this man. Just looking at him made her pulse flutter. Just being in the same room with him made her want to be on her knees in front of him.

  What had he turned her into?

  She was absolutely preoccupied with sex whenever she was around him. Constantly in a state of arousal. It was distracting, to say the least.

  “We have a busy day ahead of us, settling you in. Come here please, Evie.”

  She rose on unsteady legs and moved to stand in front of him. Even small commands from him made her nipples hard.

  Blatantly, he swept his eyes down her form. “I like what you’re wearing. It’s not as conservative as what you wear at the office. I prefer you in less conservative clothes while you’re working for me.” He pursed his lips and hesitated, as if daring her to state the obvious—that he shouldn’t dictate her wardrobe unless it was legitimately relevant to the job. “Will that be a problem?”

  Evie shook her head, afraid her voice would fail if she tried to answer. Except she had no clothes at all. She only had the clothes on her back and her outfit from yesterday in her duffel bag. She’d bought today’s outfit at a large chain store the night before, along with shoes and makeup, since all of her belongings were still back at her apartment.

  It was a simple navy knit dress, but he was right—it was more body-skimming and shorter than she’d have worn to the office. She’d found some high-heeled sandals with a strap that wrapped around her ankles, and for underneath the dress, black thong panties.

  “I’ll have to see about getting some new things,” she murmured.

  “No, I’ll see about getting you some new things.”

  “Mr. Hawthorne, you can’t buy me clothes,” she protested. She was going to have a hard enough time understanding the boundaries without him confusing things more by buying her gifts and personal items.

  “That’s not correct. I can buy you clothes, and shoes. In fact I provide uniforms for all of my household staff. Just consider what I buy you to be your uniform.”

  She opened her mouth to protest further, but he’d made a good point. If he would insist she dress a certain way, the least he could do is provide those things for her. So instead she smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You might not want to thank me until you see what I’m asking you to wear,” he warned, his eyes twinkling.

  Oh. She tried to chase the vision of a French maid uniform out of her mind.

  “We’ll start with a tour.” He looked down at her feet, cocking his head. “It’s a big house and you don’t appear to be wearing your walking shoes. Please let me know if you need to take a break.”

  Evie tipped one of her feet flirtatiously, showing off the heel and flexing her calf, hoping her legs looked fantastically sexy in the pose. “You’re right…these are not walking shoes. The uniform shoes you provide will probably be more appropriate.”

  Ford swept his eyes slowly down her legs, pausing for a long moment to linger on her heels before adopting his familiar, teasing, disciplinarian face. From the twist of his mouth, it was obvious he was holding back a smile. “Actually, the uniform shoes I provide will be higher heels than those, and they will be entirely appropriate for your duties, none of which will include much walking.” He smiled, his face infuriatingly pleasant.

  Evie dropped her eyes to her shoes, butterflies swooping around her stomach, her heart suddenly pounding. “I can’t imagine a lot of activities that heels higher than these would be appropriate for.” She spoke quietly, keeping her eyes down, not certain if they were really talking about what she thought they were talking about.

  “I can.” Ford reached out and put his finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to his. In a heartbeat he’d moved from flirtatious to seductive, his voice a low purr. Evie stared at him, hardly breathing. Would he kiss her now? Pull her down on the sofa? Take her right there against the bar?

  Anticipation crackled through her as she waited for his move. He was in control—that was their unspoken agreement. Everything was up to him. But nothing happened. Was there something else she was supposed to say? Give him a thumbs up? Take her clothes off?

  Whatever it was, she’d do it.

  “Shall we?” Ford released her chin and gestured politely toward the front hallway as if nothing had happened, as if they’d been discussing how she liked her coffee. Evie’s shoulders collapsed nearly an inch as the tension in her body released.

  “Of course.” She concentrated on keeping her voice as steady as his, and preceded him out of the room.

  “Evie, are you really going to be okay in those shoes?” He sounded genuinely concerned and Evie smiled thinly, despite her frustration.

  “I wear shoes like this all the time. I’ll be just fine. I’m very talented.” She called over her shoulder.

  Stepping up to walk next to her, he placed his hand lightly on her lower back. “Yes you are, love. Very talented.” The statement seemed loaded with double-meaning. Mashing her lips into a thin line, she thought she might scream. This man might kill her.

  Had any woman in history ever died from unfulfilled lust? Because she just might be the first.

  CHAPTER TEN

  FORD GAVE HER a lengthy tour—formal garden out back, pool, wine cellar, library, office, theater, ten car garage and the mansion’s massive, gourmet kitchen complete with walk-in fridge for catering large parties. Parties he said he never had.

  Even though she’d gone on about how amazing his house was, he hadn’t seemed excited to show it to her. His demeanor seemed resigned—resigned to living there, resigned that it was remarkable. The only time he’d perked up was when he’d shown her his car collection, particularly his black Aston Martin Vantage, a car she hadn’t even known existed. When he’d shown her his vehicles, it was as if he was ten years old and showing her his best Christmas presents.

  As he’d explained in detail what made each car special, she’d heard little of it, too distracted by the spectacle of Ford’s face lit with enthusiasm. She’d never seen him like that. He was joyful—alive—and seeing it made her realize the contrast of it to the demeanor she normally saw in him. His typical charm and sexy charisma were effective distractions, but they were masking underlying sadness.

  It didn’t make any sense. He’d told her he didn’t allow people into his life. Why would this man, who could have anything and anyone, reject it all and choose instead to be an unhappy loner? She remained subdued for the rest of the tour, uneasy with her realization. She’d chosen to be a part of his life—what part, she was still unsure of. But what ghosts did he have in his past to haunt him? To haunt her? She had enough of her own to contend with.

  As they made their way back to the living room, they passed a massive mirror in the entryway and Evie caught sight of herself. Her reflection made her heart contract in her chest. She looked out of place in his home, next to all his fine things.

  And who was that woman in the mirror? The one playing at some game she didn’t know the rules for. She was running, but away from something or toward something, she had no idea.

  Guilt kicked her in the gut. How could she think such judgmental thoughts about Ford’s secrets with her past, her issues, her secrets?

 
They passed the staircase without going up. “The tour doesn’t include the upstairs?” she asked.

  His bedroom, maybe?

  “I will show you your quarters after our meeting. Then you’ll be free to begin settling in.”

  Right. Meeting. Because she was there to work.

  When they returned to the great room, he settled onto the couch this time and briskly ran through an overview of her responsibilities, their earlier flirtation apparently forgotten.

  She remained by the door, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Swallowing, she tugged at the hem of her dress and tucked her hair behind her ear, so thrown by his hot and cold behavior that she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying.

  Surely he’d intended to continue exploring the world they’d opened up in the library—the masterful role he’d taken in demanding sexual pleasure from her, the mind-blowing orgasm he’d given her in return. She was there to live out her fantasy, dammit. Weren’t they on the same page?

  Disappointment lay heavy in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he really did just need an assistant.

  “Evie, are you listening to me?” Ford’s voice cut into her train of thought, jerking her attention back into focus.

  Startled, she met his eyes. She almost blurted it out, just to get it over with so they could at least have the discussion and she wouldn’t be left wondering. But she needed the job, unfortunately, so she took a deep breath and chose not to sexually harass her new boss.

  But that didn’t change the fact that she was confused and he was making her absolutely crazy. “Sorry, I’m not listening.”

  Ford blinked, seeming surprised at her honest answer. “I thought you were going to be good at this job, Evangeline. Was I mistaken?”

  “No, Mr. Hawthorne. You weren’t mistaken.” She looked down, kicking her toe into the carpet like a sullen teenager. Sighing, she resolved to get to work—actual work. Ford should get whatever time he needed to move things along, if he wanted to, just like she should. But if he kept up with the mixed messages, she might need to set him straight on her tolerance level.

  “I will be good at this job.” She didn’t look at him, certain he’d see in her face the X-rated thoughts keeping her preoccupied. Thoughts he obviously wasn’t sharing. “I’m just distracted today, I guess.”

  Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, he tented his long fingers in front of his mouth and stared at her silently for a minute. “As am I, love. Very distracted.” His voice was heavy and dark.

  Her breath caught.

  “Seeing you here in my home—I like it. I never have guests, other than Charley, but you seem to fit, and I can’t think straight having you all alone like this.” Curling his lips in the bad-boy hint of a smile that put his dimples on show, he gestured to the expanse of floor in front of where he sat. “Come and give me a show, Evie,” he said softly. “Just walk away from me. I want to watch you move.”

  She hesitated for only a moment before she stepped in front of him and paused, her heart thudding again. He raised his eyebrows at her—an impatient gesture. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. I’m not sure what you want me to do. I feel silly.”

  He took one of her hands in both of his, smoothing his thumbs in a sensual rhythm across her palm. “First, don’t ever feel silly in front of me. I will only ask you to do things I’m very serious about. And the things I think about when I’m around you…” He met her eyes. “There is nothing silly about those things.”

  Evie sucked in a bracing breath, her knees unsteady.

  “I will be more clear since it’s your first time. It’s going to be a treat for me to have you in this house with me. You have an incredible body, and in my own home, I intend to freely enjoy it. So specifically what I’m asking is for you to walk away from me and back so that I can look at your ass and your tits.”

  Her lips parted and she took a step backward, pulling her hand from his. No mixed messages there. There, he’d been pretty clear.

  Her mind raced, trying to hit upon an appropriate response, but even in her anxiety, she couldn’t miss the tingling from below, the thrill that swelled to life immediately in her pussy when Ford had clearly—and unapologetically—stated his intentions to ogle her without restraint while she worked for him.

  He tilted his head when her hesitation lingered, his brows drawing in. “Evie, is there a problem? I thought we’d enjoyed a mutual understanding in the library—that you liked my controlling ways. Does this not work for you?” His voice dropped an octave. “If you need to draw a line, my dear, you’d better draw it now. Because this—” he gestured to the floor in front of them where he’d asked her to walk, “—this is nowhere near my line.”

  Holy shit. Where the hell was his line?

  Evie wasn’t sure she could go there. So far she could handle him, but something told her she couldn’t see his line with a set of binoculars.

  “No.” Her voice wavered. “This is fine. I did enjoy the way you took charge in the library. I’ll just—” she turned and pointed to the intended path in front of Ford, “—just, there and back?”

  Ford nodded slowly, an amusement playing across his lips. “Just there and back, love.” His voice was exaggeratedly soothing.

  “Okay.” She turned, squared her shoulders, and walked. Three steps. Four steps. Knowing the entire time exactly what he was doing behind her. Enjoying her, as he’d stated. She could almost feel his eyes roaming over her ass and hips.

  “Slowly,” he scolded. “Slowly, please.” She obeyed, swinging her hips suggestively. If this was Ford dipping his toe in the water, she wanted to make it look warm and inviting.

  “That’s far enough. Now turn around and walk back,” he instructed. But when she turned, shock halted her to a standstill. His hand was in his lap. An obvious erection pressed against the front of his trousers and he was stroking it over his clothes. A ball of white-hot heat sprang to life between her legs and began licking flames up every inch of her skin.

  She let out a shaky breath, realizing she’d been holding it.

  “Come here.” Ford’s voice was husky.

  Before she’d even consciously made the decision to move, she’d already taken four steps towards him.

  When she was standing right in front of him he instructed, “Turn around and lift up your dress. I want to see the panties you wore for your first day on the job.”

  His hand was still on his cock, massaging it over the fine wool of his pants while he watched to see if she’d follow his orders. Pivoting in front of him, she raised her hem, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Whether from adrenaline or lust, a fine trembling ran throughout her body. He hissed in his breath when she exposed her ass, bare except for the thin strip of black thong.

  She peeked at him over her shoulder but he scolded her. “Keep your eyes facing forward until I decide what I’m going to do with you, please.”

  Her legs trembled and she bit her lip against a wave of lust so powerful it threatened to knock her over.

  What was this magic?

  He seemed to know exactly what to say and do to make her crazy with passion—things she didn’t even know herself.

  “Bend over and spread your legs.” He said this as if he’d simply asked her to grab him a file or make a call for him. Completely cool. Completely in charge.

  In contrast, her heart was doing wobbly back-handsprings. Bending over, she braced her hands on her knees. Could he see how wet she was already?

  Her excitement in contrast to his composure was almost humiliating, and yet her pussy throbbed harder still. She longed to turn around, her nerves feeling taut to the point of near breaking.

  “Your skin is so creamy. I’d love to see your bottom reddened from a good spanking.”

  Her eyes widened as a jolt tore through her. Spanking?

  “These panties remind me of the ones I took from you that night in the library.” His voice had turned soft. She jumped when she felt his finger swipe down the black material covering
the engorged flesh between her legs. A whimper escaped her throat before she could tamp it down. How did he seem so unaffected?

  “Bend over further.” The command in his tone was undeniable.

  Evie slipped her hands down her legs and squeezed her fingers around her shins, the position not quite comfortable. Holding herself like that, exposed to his scrutiny, she hardly breathed, waiting to hear what he wanted of her.

  In the privacy of his estate, he was being even more forceful than he’d been in the library. So it hadn’t been a fluke—one crazy night that she’d look back on and laugh uncomfortably about. No. Evie was loving this treatment and wanted more, wanted it to escalate.

  How could she have gone so far through her adult life without knowing how much she loved this? Discovering a new, unexplored treasure trove of her sexuality was like Christmas, and she couldn’t wait to be forced to open every present.

  Just when she was sure she couldn’t hold the position any longer, she heard the unmistakable sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

  She thought her heart might pound out of her chest. Her skin pricked as she anticipated his touch. How many heartbeats before she’d feel his hands on her hips, pulling her back toward him, his hard cock probing to find entrance into her slick pussy? Entrance he would not be denied.

  But he didn’t touch her. “Turn around and kneel down.”

  Doing as he instructed, she saw Ford had his pants pulled down and his large erection in his hand. Her mouth watered. She’d been fantasizing about Ford’s cock since the night in the library, and there it was—as enticing as she remembered—and even his big hand didn’t cover it all. Her stomach fluttered as her heart impossibly beat even faster.

  She’d never felt this before, this feeling of wanting to do whatever a man demanded, hoping he’d use her for his own sexual pleasure. Some rational part of her brain suggested that it was supposed to feel wrong to be used. But somehow it didn’t, at least not by Ford. In fact it felt more right than anything she’d ever done in bed. It felt so natural, so intrinsic, this desire to fulfill his fantasies. And whatever she did to him—for him—made her hotter than anything any man had ever done to her.