Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels

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Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels Page 65

by V. J. Chambers


  Airenne blushed. “No, not at all. Like I said, my editor wanted me to ask the questions.”

  “Vigil is not someone we’ve discussed too much,” said Callum, looking at me.

  I shrugged. “I try to keep my work life separate from my dating life.”

  Callum paced in front of the couch.

  Airenne and the camera crew had packed up and gone, but as soon as we were alone, Callum started to freak out.

  “I can’t believe she asked those questions about Vigil,” he said. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. They’re going to associate me with Vigil, and they’re going to put it all together. It’s right in front of their noses. They’re going to know.”

  “They aren’t,” I said. “No one suspects anything like that.”

  He plunged his hands into his hair. “I never should have taken such a hard line against him. I thought it would help to distance me from him, but instead it just make me look more suspicious.”

  “It doesn’t. There are a lot of people who share your opinions about Vigil. You’re fine. We’re both fine.”

  He threw himself down on the couch. “I don’t like any of this. Being public with you is making everything worse.”

  “Nothing’s worse,” I said. “But if you don’t want me around, then I guess we don’t have to spend time together.”

  “Of course I want you around,” he said, reaching for me. “And you have every right to have a boyfriend that doesn’t act like a complete ass.”

  “You’re not a complete ass,” I said. “Just somewhat.”

  He chuckled.

  I put my hand on his chest. My voice dropped a few octaves. “I like it when you say that you’re my boyfriend.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you do?” His voice got lower too. “I’m your boyfriend.”

  I grinned.

  He kissed me.

  I closed my eyes and melted into him, running my fingers over his hard chest. I could feel his muscles beneath his shirt. I realized that I was close to his bare skin. All I’d have to do was unbutton his shirt, and he’d be completely uncovered. The thought excited me, and I kissed him harder.

  He pulled back.

  I looked into his eyes. “Something wrong?”

  “We just don’t do this when I’m not… you know, Vigil.”

  I bit my lip. “Well, just because we haven’t yet doesn’t mean we can’t.”

  “Maybe not, but…”

  “I’d like to try it.”

  He closed his eyes. “I don’t know, Cecily.”

  I kissed him again.

  He kissed back, but there was nervousness in the way his lips moved against mine, the way he held me. Vigil was never nervous. Vigil was fluid and confident. He made me do what he wanted.

  There was something endearing about Callum’s nervousness. It made me feel closer to him, like what we were doing was more intimate.

  My mouth moved away from his, and I began to kiss his jaw. Then his neck.

  I unbuttoned the first button on his shirt.

  “Seriously,” he said. “This probably isn’t a good idea.” He was tanned and smooth and hard, and he smelled good.

  I kissed his collarbone. “Since when has that stopped us?”

  “Cecily…”

  I unbuttoned the next button, my lips moving lower.

  He sighed. He pulled me away from him, forced me to look at up at him. “It won’t work. I can’t…”

  “What do you mean it won’t work?”

  His jaw twitched. He swallowed.

  I’d never seen him quite so unnerved. I kind of liked it. I unbuttoned another button. I slid my hand inside his shirt, feeling his warm, soft skin. “It’s only that I never get to touch you. I never get to see you.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t do it like this.”

  I took one of my hands out of his shirt and trailed it over his clothes to cup his crotch. He was hard and huge there. “Feels like you could definitely do it,” I whispered.

  He grabbed my wrist. I thought he was going to wrench me away, but instead he held my hand there. He kissed me again. “I want to. God, I want to. I wish I could be with you this way.”

  “You can,” I said.

  “I don’t…”

  I moved my hand over his cock, stroking him.

  He groaned.

  Then he pushed me back on the couch, on my back. He pushed my dress up around my hips.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  He yanked at my underwear, pulling them off.

  I snatched hold of his half-unbuttoned shirt and pulled him down to kiss me.

  His hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts, stroking my thighs.

  I scrabbled at his buttons, pulling open his shirt, baring his chest.

  He was beautiful. His was rippled perfection. I sucked in breath as my gaze traveled over him. I ran my fingers over him almost reverently.

  His fingers moved between my legs. His thumb found my clit. He nudged another finger inside me. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

  “You’re so fucking hot,” I said. “You’re gorgeous.”

  His face reddened.

  I’d never seen him blush before. Suddenly, things felt different between us. While our lovemaking had always been intense, this was somehow personal in a way it had never been before. I felt like I could really see him.

  And it turned me on more. I kissed him. “I want you,” I murmured against his mouth.

  “We’ll try.” He propped himself up so that he was looking down at me. “Maybe… maybe it works because it’s you.”

  I didn’t understand.

  He kissed me again, and then pulled away. “I need to get condoms.”

  “My purse,” I said, gesturing. “Hand it to me.”

  He did.

  I rummaged through it until I found a condom.

  He took it from me. He pulled away, fumbling with his pants.

  “Wait,” I said.

  He looked at me.

  I reached for the button to his trousers. “Is it okay? I want to see…” I unbuttoned him.

  He winced.

  I pulled back. “I-if it isn’t—”

  “No,” he said. “You can…” He slammed his eyes shut.

  But I hesitated. Why was he being like this? I was beginning to wonder if something about what I was doing was bothering him because something bad had happened to him or something. Did he dissociate sex when he was in that damned costume? Was I traumatizing him?

  “It’s okay,” he whispered again.

  I unzipped his pants.

  His cock was already peeking through the opening of his boxers.

  I bit down on my lip, looking at him. He was long and thick and swollen.

  I wrapped my hand around him, rubbing him from tip to root.

  He let out a shuddering breath. “Wait,” he said.

  I let go of him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. I…”

  He was kissing me. “You’re fine. It’s fine.” His hands were between my legs again, rubbing my clit.

  I moaned, all thoughts wiped out in white hot pleasure.

  “I just… I don’t know if…” He kissed me again. His fingers moved away from my body. I heard the sound of the condom wrapper being ripped open, then his shaft was pressing against me.

  I opened my eyes.

  His face was over mine, but he was looking down our bodies, at the place where we were nearly connected. His shirt was unbuttoned, baring his chest, and his pants were pushed out of the way. He wasn’t completely naked. But then, neither was I. My dress was only pushed up around my hips. Generally, I would have thought our half-dressed state was pretty hot, but right now I was mostly feeling unsure and nervous.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “I…” He looked up at me.

  I felt his cock pressing into me. As usual, he was impossibly large, big and sweet and wonderful as he filled me up.

  I shut my eye
s and sagged on the couch. I moaned. He felt so good. “Callum,” I breathed, testing out his name.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t call me—Shit.”

  Inside me, he was twitching.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  I looked at him. His eyes were closed, and he was grimacing.

  And inside me, he was coming—ejaculating. Already.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t—” He yanked out of me, tugging off the condom, buttoning his pants.

  He didn’t even look at me. He just headed out of the room, away from me.

  “Wait,” I called after him. “Where are you—?”

  He slammed the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I put my panties back on, rearranged my dress, and went after him.

  The house was huge and empty, and I didn’t quite know my way around. I wound through the labyrinthine halls, calling his name.

  He didn’t answer.

  But I heard his voice filtering through the halls, and I followed it. As I got closer, I realized there was another voice too—a female voice.

  I emerged into the foyer, the same place where Nolan had stopped me from leaving the first night.

  A woman was standing just inside the door. Her long, glossy dark locks had a gentle wave, and they fell artfully around her shoulders. Her skin was flawless and alabaster. She had perfect red lips. She was wearing a sleeveless dress and matching heels.

  She didn’t look real. She looked like she’d stepped out of a high fashion photo shoot. She was poised and elegant.

  “You’re not busy or anything, are you, darling?” she was saying.

  Callum was gaping at her. His shirt was still unbuttoned. “Blake, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Visiting you,” she said. “I sent Nolan off to find you when he opened the door. Didn’t he announce me?”

  Callum started to button his shirt, looking annoyed.

  “Honestly, I’m sorry to barge in on you, but—” She looked up and saw me. “Who’s that?”

  Callum turned to me. “That’s Cecily.”

  She looked me up and down. “Nice dress.”

  The magazine had provided it, but I wasn’t about to say that. I moved further into the foyer. “And who are you?”

  “She’s Blake,” said Callum.

  “Callum’s fiancé,” she said.

  “Ex-fiancé,” he said. “Like I said, what are you doing here?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “A favor.” He’d finally finished buttoning his shirt.

  “Uh huh.” She smiled pleasantly, but her smile didn’t seem real either. “Would you excuse us, Kelly?”

  “Cecily,” I said. “Are you asking me to leave you alone with my boyfriend?”

  She laughed. “Your what?”

  “What’s the favor?” said Callum.

  “You’re crooked, darling,” she said, gesturing to his shirt.

  He looked down. He’d buttoned the wrong buttons. The bottom of the shirt hung longer on one side.

  Blake crossed to him and began to casually unbutton it. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask, but I’m desperate. I need someone to come with me to the Garwood Charity Ball, and I was hoping that you and I could make a date of it.”

  “Date?” I said.

  She was rebuttoning his shirt. “Really, Kelly, are you still here?”

  Who did she think she was? I moved closer, clenching my fists.

  “What do you think, Callum?” she said. “Can you help out an old friend? Please?”

  He watched her hands as they skimmed against his chest.

  My throat felt tight. “Callum,” I said.

  He looked at me. “I-I couldn’t.”

  She was shocked. She pulled away from him, leaving half the buttons still undone, his gorgeous chest still partly bare. “But why not?”

  “I’m seeing someone. I don’t think Cecily would like it if I—”

  “What?” She looked at me sharply.

  I took another step forward. “I don’t think I would.”

  She shook her head, frustrated. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

  “She’s Cecily Kane,” said Callum. “She’s my girlfriend.”

  Blake looked me over again. “I’ve never heard of her. I don’t know anyone named Kane.”

  “She’s not…” He fumbled with his buttons. “She’s a newspaper reporter.”

  Blake made a face. “Oh,” she said in a different voice. “How… charming.” She shuddered, disgusted.

  “I didn’t think you and I spoke anymore,” Callum said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She was still staring at me, horrified. “We’re old friends, Callum. We have a history, you and me. We’re the same kinds of people. Of course we speak.”

  “You know,” he said, “you did dump me so that you could sleep with other people. Someone might take offense to that.”

  She turned to him, bringing up a hand to pat his cheek. “But not you, darling.”

  He shut his eyes.

  I cleared my throat.

  She glared at me. “Can you go somewhere else?”

  “No, I can’t,” I said. “Can you stop touching him?”

  She was appalled. “Callum, please tell her—”

  He reached up and grabbed her wrist.

  She made a shocked noise in the back of her throat.

  He yanked her hand away from his face. “Maybe you should leave.”

  She was stunned. “What?”

  He crossed to the door.

  She went after him, her heels clicking on the floor. “Listen, you know that I was just going through a phase before. I was young. I was stupid. You can’t really blame me for the way I acted. We were children, Callum.”

  “We were twenty-one.” He opened the door.

  “Exactly,” she said. “Children.”

  “Look, Blake—”

  “I want us to be friends again.” She put her hand on his shoulder. Was it impossible for her to keep her hands to herself?

  He swallowed again. “Well, that’s a nice thought. But I guess you can’t just barge in here, and…” He shrugged her off.

  She sighed. “Okay, okay. Clearly, you’re going to be a big baby about the whole thing. Jesus.” She ran her hands over the front of her dress. “Listen, I’m going to let you have a little bit of time to get accustomed to the idea of you and me burying the hatchet. Don’t let the past ruin the present, darling.” She stepped out of the door.

  He shut it after her and collapsed against it. “Could this day get worse?” he asked the ceiling.

  “You had a fiancé?” I said.

  He shook his head. “Not now, Cecily.” He took a deep breath, and then he strode past me, leaving me alone in the foyer.

  God damn his walking off on me.

  Vigil stuck his foot in the door, so that David Jones couldn’t close it. “Just wait a second.”

  David was in his fifties. He was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and smoking a cigarette. He was scowling. “I’m not talking to you, scumbag. You’re exactly what’s wrong with our city. Like we need some creep in a costume walking around all over the place. Grow up. Masks are for children.”

  “I only have a few questions,” said Vigil. “You ever work for the Barclays?”

  “You, lady,” said David. “I read your articles on him. He’s got you snowed, sister. He’s not some kind of hero. He’s fucked in the head.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Shall I quote you as saying that, Mr. Jones?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “This for the paper?”

  “We know that you were in jail—”

  “That was thirty years ago,” said David. “I ain’t been back since then.”

  “You got there doing drug smuggling,” said Vigil. “Did you do the work for the Barclays or not?”

  “You going to print this?” he asked me.

  “We want to know if you’re close to Hayden Barclay,” I said. “That’s
all.”

  “See, I’m not going to have my name in the paper with the Barclay name, you got that?” David said. “After you get yourself clear of that family, you got to work hard to make sure they don’t find you again.”

  “So, you’re clear of them,” said Vigil.

  “I am,” said David. “Been straight as an arrow ever since I did that time. I was a kid back then. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “You know anything about The Phantom?” I said.

  “What? The other masked crazy?” said David. “Why would I know anything about him?”

  Vigil took a deep breath. “All right, I’m going to believe you on this. But I know where you live, you understand? We find out different, we’ll come back and—”

  “Oh, shut up,” said David. “I’m not listening to your shit anymore. And I sure as fuck am not scared of you.”

  Vigil moved his foot. “You better not be lying.”

  David slammed the door.

  “I knew that was a long shot,” he muttered, heading away from David’s apartment to the place where his motorcycle was parked.

  I followed him. “Maybe he’s lying.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  According to my research, there were two men named David Jones that had associated with the Barclay family. Well, the other guy was actually Davis Jones, but we figured that he could reasonably have the nickname Davy.

  This first guy was really too old to have interacted much with Hayden Barclay. He was out of the business before Hayden was born.

  Still, we didn’t have any other leads.

  Vigil handed me my helmet.

  I took it, but I didn’t put it on. “Um, are we going to talk about what happened?”

  “With that guy?” said Vigil, gesturing toward David’s apartment. “What’s there to talk about?”

  “Not with that guy,” I said. “With, um, us.” I hadn’t seen him since meeting Blake. That had been days ago. We’d both been busy and hadn’t had time to get together. If Vigil hadn’t wanted to do work on tracking down Barclay, I didn’t think he would have even gotten in touch with me.

  He shrugged, turning away from me. “What do you want me to say about it?”

  I shifted on my feet, searching for a way to broach the subject of our awkward sexual encounter. Nothing I thought of seemed like something I could actually say aloud. I decided to let that slide. “You had a fiancé?”

 

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