Covet: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Vivian Wood

  “Hey,” she said, perking up at his presence. “We’re the only ones here.”

  “Yeah, aside from Chip and Dale back there.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t want to make them mad. I was looking at the guns and thinking, there’s more where that came from.”

  “Yep. All right. Let’s get you set up here.”

  He pulled a couple pairs of glasses off the wall for eye protection, along with two new pairs of earplugs. He handed them over to her, trying not to laugh at the sight of her wearing the glasses.

  “What?” she demanded to know.

  “Nothing, nothing. Just, you look very official, that’s all.”

  Her mouth crooked in a lopsided smile.

  “What are we doing here?” she said, pointing at the duffel bag.

  He pulled out one of the guns, double-checked to make certain it wasn’t loaded, then instructed her on all the gun parts. She nodded, and he could see that same intelligence taking everything apart, putting it all together again.

  Apparently the brain wasn’t the only thing she could study.

  “Okay,” she said. “The safety’s on, right?”

  “Yup.” He handed the gun over to her. She looked a little nervous, as well she should.

  After all, the last time she’d held a gun, she killed somebody.

  He watched her point it at the floor, going through all the motions. After a few minutes, he was ready to give her ammo.

  “Alright,” he said, taking the gun back and carefully loading it. “Come here.”

  She came to where he was standing.

  “Take the gun,” he instructed. “And stand like you’re preparing to fire.”

  She stood awkwardly, like she was afraid of the gun.

  “Here,” he said, slipping his arms around hers, hands around the gun. He felt her shiver as he touched her.

  He spoke a little louder, realizing she probably couldn’t hear.

  “Show the gun that you’re in control. Show it who’s boss. You do that, nothing bad will happen.”

  She squeezed the trigger, and fired off a shot. It went wide of the mark, veering right before sticking in the rubber anti-bullet mat.

  “Alright. You got it. Now look at the target. Don’t close your eyes this time when you fire.”

  He gave her a gentle squeeze, encouraging her. She fired again, managing to actually hit the target. She cheered.

  He released her with a sigh. It felt too good to hold her like that. He was venturing into dangerous territory.

  She looked back at him.

  “What?” she said.

  “Nothing. You’re doing well. Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll watch.”

  He sat down in one of the folding chairs that were along the wall. True to his word, he did watch… only it was her ass that had his attention. He could imagine the way her ass would feel in his hands when he grabbed her.

  “Hey,” she said, waving her gunless hand in his direction. “I think I’m getting the hang of this. And I need more bullets.”

  Callum let her go three more rounds, then announced that it was his turn. After carefully taking the gun from her, he loaded it and went to the next stall.

  He fired the whole clip, back to back, most of his bullets hitting the same spot: dead bullseye.

  “Holy shit,” Viola breathed, watching over his shoulder.

  Yep. The SEALs did make me quite the marksman.

  They took turns firing, handing off the gun, until they were out of bullets.

  “I think that’s it for us,” he said, securing the guns in duffel.

  “I got my fill, for sure.”

  They headed out, ignoring the heavy gazes of the two brothers at the front. Still, Callum didn’t feel safe until Viola was in the car, buckling up her seatbelt.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, starving,” she said.

  “I know a little Mexican place around the corner. It’s not much to look at, but the food’s fantastic.”

  “Let’s do it!”

  Within minutes, they were walking into a tiny stucco building. It might have been boring on the outside, but it was colorful inside. Strings of cat-shaped lights hung everywhere, and the drinks were served in plastic faux cacti.

  A hostess was quick to seat them, explaining that they were about to close the kitchen for a break in half an hour.

  “We’ll be quick,” Viola assured her, looking back at him. He shrugged and followed them to a table.

  Chips and salsa were delivered forthwith, along with menus. They hustled through ordering, then were left with giant cactus-shaped mugs of water.

  “So…” she said.

  “So?” he asked.

  “I dunno. I thought maybe you could tell me some more about Declan and Cormac.”

  He pulled a face. “Why? I already told you, you can’t sleep with them.”

  “Psssh, in their dreams. I meant like… how you ended up in the Cúram together. Surely your father only had to pull you out of military jail. Why did he get Declan and Cormac out too?”

  “Ah. That’s simple enough. I blackmailed him. I said if he left them in, I would go to the Navy and confess. He’d have a black mark on the Connor family name, and no son to speak of.”

  “I’m sure that went over well.”

  “Yeah, real well. He threatened not to talk to me.” Callum shrugged. “He got us all out. So I guess it worked.”

  “Do either of them have girlfriends?”

  He repressed the need to glare at her.

  “Why do you ask?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Declan seems like he’s maybe stable enough to date. Cormac though…”

  He nodded. “Neither of them have girls. Like, girls they see on the regular, I mean. The SEALs sort of… convince you not to take that next step with just anyone.”

  Viola’s eyebrows shot up.

  “What, you can sleep with anything that moves, but not date them?”

  “I didn’t say that they were manwhores.”

  “You didn’t not say it, either.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s just say that Dec and Cor are taking it slow, as it were.”

  She pressed her lips together, looking away. He could tell that she wanted to say something, but was too chickenshit to say it.

  “What?” he asked.

  She looked at him, those sapphire eyes piercing.

  “What about you?” she said slowly. “Who are you waiting for?”

  He wished he could take back his prompt. What the hell was she asking? Did she want to know if he was waiting for her?

  Before he could wrap his head around the question, their food arrived. Nachos for him, a Speedy Gonzales special for her.

  He dug in without answering, eating with such gusto that she eventually just shook her head. She dug into her own food, scowling at her plate.

  He finished before her, hopping up to pay the check. When he got back, her plate was cleared.

  “Ready to go?” he asked her.

  She got up and proceeded out of the dining room silently.

  As he followed her out, he wondered if there wasn’t something building, something quietly powerful, yet devastating.

  And he wondered if that something wasn’t coming for him, sooner rather than later…

  18

  The next night, Vi looked up from her books to see Callum enter her room. He wore a dark suit, which was about as debonair as they come…

  How often did she get to secretly swoon over a man in a suit?

  And that look… she couldn’t admit it to him, but those glowing emerald eyes did things to her. Made her want to strip before him, beg him for the attention she knew he would show her…

  “Hey,” she said shakily, closing her book.

  He carried a garment bag, which he dropped on the bed.

  “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

  She opened her mouth to say something or protest, say that she should stay in, but apparently he w
asn’t interested. That’s how she took it when he walked right back out of the room, anyway.

  Closing her mouth, she reached for the garment bag. Unzipping it, she found a dress inside.

  Her mouth went dry. It was a sheer red Jenny Packham, cut low in the front, with two thigh-high slits that would show the world exactly what she was working with.

  She picked it up, holding it against herself. She got up and looked at herself in the mirror.

  Lovely, she thought. It’s like this dress was designed for me. And I want to wear it…

  Putting the dress aside, she moved to get ready. She’d blown out her hair earlier in the day, so a quick shave and a light coat of makeup were really all the getting ready she needed.

  Dressed in the gown and a pair of killer heels, she peeked out her door. Callum loomed close by, more than prepared to leave.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She stepped fully outside, presenting herself. She saw his eyes go dark when he looked at her, there was no hiding that. But otherwise he didn’t respond, he just stuck an arm out for Viola to take.

  He led her outside to the waiting car, opening the door for her and making sure she was seated first. It seemed like a real date, except it wasn’t. At all.

  She really needed to remember that the next time she caught herself staring lustfully at his ass. Not a date.

  Viola tried not to be disappointed as he pulled the car out.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Metropolitan.”

  She bit her lip. “Not that I don’t want to go, but isn’t Metropolitan busy? There’ll be a ton of Italians there. Like primo danger zone for the both of us.”

  He reached behind her seat and handed her a small black eye mask.

  “Masquerade-themed. No one will notice us in the sea of masks.”

  She was quiet the rest of trip, as was he. When they pulled up, Callum put his own mask on, so Viola did, too.

  As it turned out, Metropolitan was doing a booming business that night, as evidenced by the numerous people standing in line. Viola started heading toward the end of the line, but Callum steered her around it. They walked right through security, with a nod to the bouncer.

  Inside the club was loud, the music pulsing rhythmically, a techno remix of a popular song. The lights flashed through the haze of fog, doing little to illuminate the dancers writhing to the beat.

  “Wow,” Viola said, but it was lost to the roar of the music.

  “Let’s get some drinks,” Callum said into her ear, making her shiver. She nodded and he led the way to the bar, long and lit up like a shining star.

  Once their drinks were in hand, whisky for him and a gin and tonic for her, he held up his glass. “What do we toast to?”

  She thought for a moment, then smiled and held up her glass.

  “Second chances.”

  She saw that same fire burn bright in his eyes in the seconds before they toasted, and he shot back his whisky. She sipped her drink, laughing.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to drink fine whisky like that.”

  He leaned in close, until he was right in her ear.

  “I’m not supposed to do a lot of things that I enjoy.”

  A chill raced down her spine at the way his lips touched her ear. Not a good sign for her resolution to be a good girl and remain well-behaved, that’s for sure.

  He pulled away after that, ordering another whisky and looking around.

  She looked around, too. People were everywhere, doing shots together and pulling their friends out on the dance floor.

  She’d never had friends like that, except for Jason’s friends. She remembered their girlfriends had been nice, taking her on outings and treating her like she was one of the gang.

  It had been especially hard, leaving them behind when she ran…

  Now, it was just easier not to make friends who would remember her, who might remark on her disappearance. She blinked into her cup, trying not to look as melancholy as she felt.

  It was a fair deal, she thought. My life in exchange for friends. That’s fair, right?

  She looked at Callum, who was staring off into the distance. At least he had Declan and Cormac. They might fight, but she could tell without asking that they were ride-or-die brothers, the kind who would never leave Callum hanging.

  When it came down to it, who did she really have in her corner?

  “Come on,” Callum said, putting his glass down and taking her hand. “Let’s dance.”

  She went willingly toward the back, forgetting her morbid thoughts. She was more concerned about trying hard not to look at his ass while he led her to the packed dance floor.

  Callum led her into the thick of it all, turning and drawing her close. It was a fast-paced beat, the song familiar. She smiled when he held her closer, knowing that for this moment in time, she was not alone.

  His hands worked their way down from her shoulders to her waist, his eyes setting her on fire. She turned around, grinding on him, making herself nearly crazy. He ran his hands up the slits in her dress, then down the tempting front of her dress.

  She could tell he wanted to tear the front of her dress, but instead he slipped his fingers underneath, touched her bare breast.

  She felt like she was going to explode, just from that simple touch. Could he make her cum like that?

  Even as she blushed at the thought, she turned up the grinding a notch. The music made her bold, the drinks loosened her up, so she reached behind herself. Sliding her hand between them, she felt the rigid outline of his cock.

  Hard. Ready.

  He let her explore for a second, not at all shy about his interest in her body. She wished she could pull his cock out, feel it in her hand. Or better yet, inside her, thrusting with all his might…

  He groaned and moved away, turning her around to face him again.

  “You…” he growled in her ear. “You’re going to beg for it.”

  His fingers teased the sensitive flesh bared by the slits in her dress, then he turned her around and marched her toward the back of the club.

  The fact that he was manhandling her, the way he greased a palm and got them a private booth, the knowledge of what he planned to with her… it should have shamed her.

  But there was something wild about the woman she was tonight, something that could only be brought out by the anonymity of the mask. It protected her, made her bold.

  Made her wanton.

  Callum held out a hand to the booth, gesturing for her to slide in first. She did, and he was entering the booth right after her, almost on top of her.

  His eyes were on her, watching her. His hand brushed her thigh, fingers teased back the fabric. Caressed upward toward the juncture of her thighs, until they crept along her silkiness.

  The second he touched her there, she moaned.

  He leaned forward and caught her moan, cutting it off with a steaming-hot kiss. His fingers carefully explored, found a rhythm she liked; his tongue traced the same pattern against hers.

  She felt like she was burning alive, like he would peel back her layers and reveal nothing but hot magma, ready to burst forth at any moment.

  She worked her hand inside his suit coat, under his shirt. Skin touching skin, that was what she craved.

  He shifted, probing her with two fingers while his thumb worked its magic. Playing her like a finely-shaped violin, made exclusively for him. She cried out, but he caught each cry, silencing her, the music thrumming in her ears.

  Suddenly she exploded, her body melting down like a nuclear reactor. She cried out in ecstasy, losing herself for several long moments. He held her close, feeling her tremble as she came down.

  She looked at him, really looked at him. And knew that it wasn’t enough.

  It wasn’t ever enough.

  She leaned in to kiss him, then whispered in his ear. “The closest hotel. Let’s get a room.”

  He looked at her, hunger and need blazing in his emerald ey
es.

  “As you wish.”

  His playful taunt was infused with strength, with the depth of his need.

  He got out of the booth first, then helped her out, righting a bit of her skirt as she went. She felt like she was dancing on air as they left, that she might as well be with a shah or a rockstar, as far as she was concerned.

  As long as it was Callum, she couldn’t care less.

  He drove to a gorgeous hotel downtown, one that still held all the 1940s glamour, still looked like starlets walked through the lobby regularly. She smirked when they registered as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

  She could only hope they would live up to the hype.

  Then again, she thought as they rode the elevator up to their room, she did have a bit of experience…

  She grinned to herself as she walked through the door.

  19

  Callum was on fire, stepping into that hotel room. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted Viola.

  Like he was dying, and she was the only thing that could save him.

  She was right in front of him, and he couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and grab her. She turned in his arms, and their lips met, the kiss passionate and full of need.

  He slid his hand to the back of her neck, acting on pure impulse. He needed to possess her, to own her, if just for this moment.

  He deepened the kiss, realizing how much he needed this — he’d let it all build too long. Maybe that was why he was so obsessed with Viola.

  It was long overdue, and judging by her enthusiasm in returning the kiss, she felt the same.

  He was desperate to feel her under his body, going crazy with the urge to feel every single inch of her under his flesh. He picked her up with one arm, carrying her backward to the bed.

  She was good the last time he’d had her, but this time there was something different about her. Intense, almost wild. She bit his bottom lip as he carried her back to the bed, moaning.

  “Hurry,” she cried as he put her down. “I need you inside me.”

  He reared back, looking down at her intently.

  “You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time for me to have mine.”