His Every Need (15 page)

“My pussy. I want your tongue on my pussy.”

He grinned then. “You’re learning.” He lowered his head and licked the length of her.

Allie grabbed a fistful of his wet hair and closed her eyes. Yes, she’d definitely
missed Trevor. Normally he took his time—long, slow swipes of his tongue as he buried
his fingers deep inside her—but today he didn’t linger. He lapped at her quickly,
his tongue darting into her, twirling in a fast circle. It felt amazing, and when
he moaned against her, the vibrations from his voice sent shivers racing across her
heated skin. Then he pinched her clitoris. The sensation was overwhelming and she
shattered a few moments later. Letting go of Trevor’s hair, she clutched the sides
of the lounger, crying out. The sound echoed through the tiled room.

While she recovered, Trevor gave her one last taste before rubbing his cheek against
her inner thigh. “I don’t have a condom with me,” he said, gazing up at her.

Allie reached down and ran her hand over his damp hair. “Finish what you started the
other night.”

He frowned until she pressed her breasts together. “You want me to fuck your tits?”

She nodded. She wanted to take him like this, felt herself growing wet again just
thinking about it.

“I’m going to come this time, Allison.”

“Seems fair,” she said, still panting. That orgasm had left her a little dizzy as
it ripped through her body.

Trevor moved up the lounger and, grabbing hold of the headrest, slowly slid his dick
between her full breasts. “God, yes.”

With his brows drawn, Trevor peered down, watching himself glide between her tits.
A look of intense pleasure crossed his features before he closed his eyes. “You feel
incredible.” He increased the pace, thrusting forward and back. “I’m going to come,
Allison.” His body tightened as he shot a long stream onto her chest, another rope
of come landed on her neck. Still, he continued to piston his hips.

Once he pulled away, Allie let go of her breasts. “I need another forty-five minutes
with you, love.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. As he moved to grab his discarded
towel, he kept his eyes trained on her.

To tease him, Allie rubbed her middle finger along her breastbone, swirling his semen
in a circle and dragging it over her nipple. “Too bad you’ll have to make due with
a quickie.”

He closed his eyes for a second and licked his lips. “God, you drive me insane. You
know I’m going to be thinking about this moment for the rest of the bloody day.”

She liked that she sent him over the edge, distracted him. “I hope so.”

He lowered himself to the lounger and nudged her hip aside until she scooted over.
With gentle strokes, he wiped his come from her chest. “How are we doing on time?”

Allie’s hand trailed over his leg. “I think we’re good.”

Trevor tossed the towel aside and stretched out beside her. Throwing an arm around
her waist, he nuzzled her ear. “I take it things didn’t go well with your father this
morning?”

She shook her head and petted his forearm. “No. Not even a little bit. Is it okay
if Brynn stays a few more days? I know it’s not what you had in mind when we made
this bargain—”

“Allison.”

She stopped talking and glanced over at him. His spiky black eyelashes emphasized
the light gray, almost silver, irises. The black band that edged the lighter shade
provided a striking contrast. She could lose herself in those eyes.

He bent his head and ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip and briefly sucked
it into his mouth. Leaning back a fraction, he remained close, their lips almost touching,
but not quite.

“I told you Brynn could stay as long as she needs to. It’s fine. In fact, I’ll meet
the two of you for tea in the conservatory.”

She smiled.

The smile he gave her in return, a genuine smile that formed little commas next to
his mouth, caused her heart to skip a beat.

***

“I love these cookies,” Brynn said. She was the most relaxed Trevor had ever seen
her. The girl would always be shy by nature, but she seemed to be getting used to
him. She smiled, and her gaze darted away, settling on the fountain. “And thank you
for the gift card and docking station. That was nice of you.”

He wanted to make sure she was comfortable. Allie had mentioned the girl liked listening
to her iPod, so he simply instructed Frances to get what was needed. It was nothing,
really, yet by the look on her bright red face, Brynn was pleased. “You’re most welcome.
And the biscuits are British, of course.” Arnold only served them for Allie and Brynn.

In fact, both sisters had Arnold wrapped around their fingers. With great flair, he’d
presented them with little frosted fairy cakes, their initials written in pink icing.
Trevor didn’t get a little cake with his initials. When Allie and Brynn moved out,
his butler might very well decide to go with them.

He frowned and pushed the thought aside. The very idea of Allison not living here
made him uneasy. She wouldn’t always be here, but the when of it was his decision.
And right now, he wanted her here. In his bed. Straddling him.

With a sigh, he shifted in discomfort. He needed to be inside Allie again. As soon
as possible. The brief excursion in the pool house had only whetted his appetite,
rather than easing it.

Trevor grabbed a biscuit. The fountain tinkled softly in the background. This really
was a most peaceful room. The air was cool and dry and the flowers gave off a heady
perfume. Maybe this should become a ritual, taking a few minutes out of the day to
have tea with Allie.

She smiled at him. “Your mother finally picked a wedding cake.”

He threw her a droll look. “Excellent. I’ve worried myself silly over it.” He popped
the last of the biscuit in his mouth and then wiped his hands on the napkin. “Do try
the watercress sandwiches, Brynn. They’re quite nice.”

Brynn plucked one from the tiered tray and peered at it with suspicion. “What’s watercress?”
She lifted the top layer of bread and sniffed the sandwich.

“Watercress is an herb. Served on these tiny, crustless sandwiches at teatime.” He
picked one off the tray and took a bite. “Mmm.” He closed his eyes and smiled.

Brynn laughed and took a small bite. After chewing a few times, she shrugged. “It’s
all right,” she said.

“Well, they can’t all be Jammie Dodgers.”

“She’s getting red velvet to match her red dress,” Allie said.

Trevor sighed and glanced at her. She’d changed into a peach-colored dress and her
bra pushed her breasts up and outward. The memory of this morning, working his cock
between those lovely tits, made him hard. Slowly his gaze traveled to her eyes, which
he found glaring at him. Whoops. Wouldn’t do to be caught gaping in front of Brynn.
Still, if Allie didn’t want her breasts to be admired, she shouldn’t put them on display—but
he very much enjoyed it when she did.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, darling, red velvet.”

Brynn, who had been looking over the tray of food, paused. “You call your assistant
darling?”

Trevor noticed Allie turning a lovely shade of pink. It made him smile. “I call everyone
darling. Darling.”

“It’s a British thing,” Allie said. By the downward turn of those lush lips, he knew
his little slip had upset her. She could rail at him later. In fact, he looked forward
to it.

He drained his cup and stood. “Well, ladies, delightful as always, but I must get
back to work.”

“Mr. Blake, there are some things we should go over soon.” Allie gave him a hard stare.

“Of course, Miss Campbell. I’m at your disposal.”

Trevor left the conservatory with a smile. But when he walked into his office and
saw his father looking over the brass armillary sphere sitting on the bookshelf, the
smile turned into a scowl. “What do you want, old man?” He walked to his desk and
settled into the chair behind it.

“We need to talk,” Nigel said, spinning one of the rings.

“I can’t imagine why.” He kept his gaze trained on his computer screen.

“Trevor, we’ve done this bit. I know I’ve been a bastard. And I am sorry. For all
of it, Son.”

“Well and good. Close the door on your way out, would you?”

Nigel stopped fondling the sphere and walked toward the desk. “Your mother very much
wants the wedding to be a family affair.”

“You’ve always been particularly good at affairs.”

Sighing, Nigel fell into a chair with careless grace. “Are you ever going to get over
Anna?”

“Oh, do me a favor,” Trevor said, disgusted. Over Anna? He was over that slag long
before his father came sniffing around. Still, it was bad form. Man’s code and all
that. But what did he expect from such a tosser?

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Trev. And I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father to you. But Mags
and I would like to try and make it up to you.”

Trevor batted his lashes. “Are you going to buy me a pony?”

Nigel scratched his jaw with one hand. “I know we haven’t been the best of parents.
The memories you have aren’t all pleasant ones, but there were good times, you know.”

“Mmm, yes. Remember my sixth birthday party? In the middle of opening presents, Mother
accused you of fucking around. You went tearing off in your sports car, she proceeded
to get drunk on champagne and cry hysterically. One for the memory books.”

Nigel rubbed a hand over his mouth and shifted his eyes to the left. “Yes, well, you’re
not six anymore. This is for your mother, Son.”

“I’ve missed most of her weddings.” Trevor paused and stroked his chin. “No, I take
that back. I’ve missed all of her weddings. Yours too, in fact. Why should this one
be any different?”

Nigel stood and straightened his suit jacket, tugged at his cuffs. “You will be there.
You will give your mother this, and she will be happy.” With a stiff back he left
the office, slamming the door behind him.

Trevor gripped the armrests on the chair and sneered. It was always about their happiness.
His mother was little more than an incubator and his father, a sperm donor. Why didn’t
they just leave him the hell alone?

When Allie came in seconds later, he hadn’t begun to rein in his anger.

“What’s wrong with your dad? I just ran into him in the hall and he seemed really
upset.” She knitted her brow and approached the desk. “Trevor, what happened?”

He tapped a few keystrokes and brought a prospectus up on the screen. “I keep getting
fucking interrupted and I’m busy. Get out.” He knew it wasn’t fair to unleash his
anger on her, but he didn’t want to be bothered just now. He was tired of his parents
and their infernal wedding chatter. Tired of not being able to shag Allison whenever
he bloody well wanted. Tired of having so many people invade his office.

Instead of heeding him, she sighed and walked over to the desk, hopped on top of it,
and tilted her head forward, looking at his screen. “I talked to your mom today.”

“I’m sure it was a riveting conversation. What do you want?”

“I wanted to remind you to take it easy around Brynn. I don’t want her to think I’m
anything but your assistant.”

He still didn’t look at her. This investment expected a twelve percent rate of return.
No one could guarantee twelve percent in this economy, no matter how aggressive. He
didn’t trust it. And he always trusted his gut.
Except
when
it
came
to
Brian
Campbell
and
his
beautiful
daughter.

“Fine, no more slipups in front of Brynn.”

“Have you heard from the private detective? Does he have any news about Brad?”

“When I know something, you’ll know something. Are we through?”

She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. “About the wedding—just because you don’t
want to hear about it, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away.”

His mouth kicked up on one side as his gaze took her in from head to toe. “You look
good in that color, love. Use that credit card I gave you and go find something in
the same shade. You can show me later.” He dismissed her by picking up his BlackBerry
and punching out a text.

Allie reached over and grabbed the phone from of his hand. She remained unfazed at
his withering glare. “Your mother thinks you hate her, Trevor.”

“She wouldn’t be wrong.” Standing, he reached for the phone and plucked it out of
her hands. “I have business to take care of right now, Allison.”

“You have to make this right. I know they hurt you, but she’s your mom.”

He smiled, felt his lips pull up at the edges. “I don’t have to do anything. And I
think you’ve forgotten your place in the scheme of things, darling. You’re a fuck
toy, not my conscience. Now, run along.”

Three days. Three days and she hadn’t dropped that plastic smile once, at least not
in his presence. It was enough to make him mental. And why didn’t anyone else notice?
Even Brynn was oblivious to the fact that her sister was miserable.

And it was his fault.

Trevor knew he’d gone too far the instant he said
fuck
toy.
He’d been cruel, thoughtless. He was a bloody bastard.

After he said it, she’d looked momentarily stricken, then assumed that irksome expression
and jumped down from his desk. “You’re right. I’m here for sex. I won’t forget again.”
She walked out of his office, the line of her back straight.

He opened his mouth to call her back and decided against it. He could apologize, should,
really, but he knew her. She’d give him that horrible grin and tell him it was fine,
all was forgiven. She’d be lying, of course.

And she shouldn’t forgive him. He didn’t deserve it.

Three days ago, when she gazed up at him at the indoor pool, those lovely blue eyes
had eaten him up. He knew she wanted him, just as he had wanted her. But now she wouldn’t
even look at him. Oh, she was accommodating and said all the right things, but she
wouldn’t look him in the eye.

That first night, when he’d met up with everyone in the drawing room before dinner,
he’d tried to get her attention. But her gaze swept past him, over him, never settling
on him. Brynn began thanking him profusely in what he supposed was English as she
prattled on about the names of the songs she’d bought with her gift card. He’d tried
to look attentive and properly interested in what she had to say, but his eyes kept
straying to Allison.

Dinner was a disaster. Nigel had shot Trevor disappointed glances. Allie had just
smiled. And ignored him. Mags had kept a conversation going almost single-handedly
and was very good at drawing Brynn out of her shell. The girl blossomed under a little
bit of female attention. She must miss her mother terribly.

His gaze rested on Allison as she played with her food. How taxing it must have been,
putting her life on hold to take care of a dying mother and two sisters. He couldn’t
imagine it, couldn’t imagine using all of his focus and energy to take care of someone
else. Allie deserved a medal. And all he’d done was hurt her, call her names—foul
names.

“Why so moody tonight, dearest?” Mags had asked.

“What do you mean tonight?” Nigel asked. “He’s always been moody, even as a little
boy. Would much rather play with his cars and trains than be with people.”

Taking a deep breath, Trevor narrowed his eyes and held his tongue. Brynn was in the
room after all, and he didn’t want to scorch her ears. He could have told his father
to sod off, could have reminded his mother that the only person he saw for days on
end was his grouchy nanny who rarely spoke to him. They didn’t know how he behaved
as a child, as they were rarely home. Instead, he smiled at Brynn, turned to Allie,
and bowed his head slightly before leaving the room.

For the next three days, he’d insisted on taking tea with Allie and Brynn, forced
Allie to take strolls with him in the garden before dinner. And every night he challenged
her to a game of chess in the library. He’d tried to provoke her, tease her, eventually
got nasty with her. She looked right through him. And smiled.

When they were alone together, she would look anywhere but at him and ask, “Would
you like to have sex now, Trevor? I’m here for your pleasure.” It was as impersonal
as if she’d asked about the weather.
“Is it hot out, Trevor? Would you care for some sunscreen?”
With that robotic, goddamned expression firmly in place.

He’d been gobsmacked the first time she said it. And saddened. By the fourth time,
he smiled coldly. “When I want sex, you’ll know. The way you’ll be able to tell is
when my cock is inside your pussy, Miss Campbell.” She hadn’t asked again.

By Saturday, he’d had enough. He planned on taking her to dinner, leaving Brynn under
the watchful supervision of Arnold and Frances. His parents were still in residence,
of course, but he wouldn’t leave a goldfish in their care.

“Be in the foyer at seven,” he’d told Allie over tea.

“Yes, of course. Is there anything special you’d like me to wear?” She held her cup
aloft and glanced at his tie.

He all but gnashed his teeth. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be satisfactory.”

Clueless Brynn texted and ate a sandwich. How could she not see the difference in
Allie? How could she not see through the fake congeniality? It was baffling.

“No.” He shook his head. “Wear an evening dress.” He let his eyes drift to her breasts
and linger there. “If I don’t like it, you’ll change.” He flung himself out of the
chair and left the room.

“What’s wrong with him?” he heard Brynn ask.

Good God, what wasn’t wrong with him? He was a miserable fuck and desperate to break
through to Allie. Couldn’t take another minute of that polite, phony attitude.

At seven on the dot, she descended the stairs in a dark red, strapless dress that
exposed a good deal of cleavage, with her hair piled on top of her head. She was beautiful.
Or would be if she’d wipe that gormless expression off her face.

He offered his arm, and she hesitated for the briefest instant before taking it. Out
front, Simmons waited next to the limo. Trevor climbed in next to her, and she sat
as stiff and taut as a wire.

“Would you care for champagne, Allison?” He lifted the chilled bottle and poured some
into a waiting flute.

“No thank you, Trevor. I’m fine.”

Just to get a rise out of her, he handed her the glass with an evil smile of his own.
“I insist.”

“All right, then. Thank you.”

No
more
—he wanted to shout the words at her. He’d reached the end of his tether. He missed
her, the real her, the one who lectured him and shivered at his touch and was fiercely
loyal to her family. He had to do something to shake her out of this. Why couldn’t
she just say something vicious to get even?

With narrowed eyes, he poured a glass for himself. “Take down your hair.”

“What?” She looked momentarily startled before the composed look he’d grown to despise
settled back over her features. Handing her drink to him, she reached up and took
out a few pins, loosening her hair. She ran her fingers through the long strands and
then placed her hands in her lap. “Is this better?”

With a critical eye, Trevor studied her face and hair for several seconds. “No, it’s
not. Put it back up.”

He settled in his seat and watched her struggle to finger comb her hair and refasten
it with the pins. Still, she seemed unflappable.

His gaze swept over her new coif. It was messier than before, and he liked it. Yes,
he was tired of this phony pretense. He wanted her back. So, tonight he was going
to do everything in his power to make Allison Campbell come unwound.

***

Allie tried to ignore him. He was doing everything he could to get a rise out of her,
but she wouldn’t be goaded into an argument. He wanted a mistress, not a girlfriend—sure
as hell not a friend. He didn’t want advice about his family. He didn’t want to be
called out on his ridiculous behavior toward his parents. Fine. That was just fine
with her.

She was a fuck toy, so be it. He wanted sex, she’d give it to him. Without emotion
this time. Without aching for him, without feeling anything at all. Because fuck toys
didn’t have feelings. And that’s why she was there. To pleasure him whenever he wanted.
British bastard.

In the meantime she would be cheerful and pleasant. He thought he could rattle her
cage, but he’d underestimated her. He thought he was dealing with an amateur. He must
not know she was employee of the month fifteen times in the past four years. When
she spoke to him, she pretended he was just another hotel guest and assumed her customer
service face—the peaceful, unruffled expression that calmed even the most belligerent
tourist.

She ran a hand over her hair. “Is this all right, Trevor?” She let her gaze bounce
on him before looking away. That was one thing she couldn’t bring herself to do—look
at him. She couldn’t gaze into those light gray eyes and not want to burst into tears.

You’re a fuck toy.
Those words had ripped her to shreds. No, she hadn’t just been hurt by what Trevor
had said, that was too mild a description. She felt as if she had a gaping chest wound.

The thing was, she had actually started to like him, thought they had a connection,
a bond. But Trevor didn’t have bonds with people. He had employees, not friends.

That’s what she was, his employee. So she held on to that customer service smile like
it was a lifeline and she was drowning. Because if she didn’t, he’d see how much he’d
hurt her.

She felt his cold gaze flash over her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shrug
and raise a brow. “It looks fine, I suppose.”

Allie just smiled at the comment and turned her face toward the partition. She didn’t
know where they were going for dinner, didn’t care. In the past three days, she’d
interacted as little as possible with Trevor. Except when he’d made her take tea with
him, go on ridiculously long, rambling walks in the garden—which under normal circumstances
she’d have enjoyed—and forced her to play chess with him until late in the evening.

The last activity had her nerves frayed. She kept expecting him to try and seduce
her. And she would give in to him too, because, as she’d reminded herself enough times,
that’s why he kept her around. But to actually let him kiss her, touch her, slip inside
her body would be almost more than her faux cheerful attitude would be able to take.
So, she’d tried to prod him into sex, at least that way she would be in control.
“Would you like to have sex now, Trevor?”
He’d been shocked the first time she said it. His eyes widened, his cheeks paled.
But she kept asking, in a cool, polite voice. But after a while, he’d snapped back
and she didn’t dare push him any further. Knowing Trevor, he’d take her up on it out
of irritation.

And to be honest, for all her pep talks to herself about having sex with no emotion,
she was almost positive she couldn’t do it. The times they’d had together haunted
her. She dreamed about them, played them over and over in her mind. She’d never felt
so satisfied, so emotionally connected. She knew Trevor didn’t feel the same. He’d
told her that in a dozen different ways.

No, she needed to keep up the pleasant façade, needed to keep her emotional distance.
It was the only way she’d survive this. Survive him.

Simmons dropped them off at one of the largest casinos on the Strip. Trevor didn’t
speak at all but placed a hand on her lower back and guided her through the door and
into the elevator. As they slowly climbed to the twenty-first floor, he stood with
his back against one wall, his hands thrust in his pockets, and stared at her. She
looked straight ahead and did her best to ignore him but could see his reflection
in the brass doors. It was going to be a long night without Brynn, Mags, and Nigel
as a buffer.

The doors slid open, and still not speaking, Trevor escorted her to a restaurant she’d
only heard about. It was even more beautiful than she’d imagined. The white and ivory
décor should have felt impersonal but, instead, was inviting. As they were shown to
their table, Allie’s eyes traveled upward to the enormous glass bubble chandelier
that encompassed the middle of the restaurant. The maître d’ took them to a corner
table by the window, which allowed them a view over the lighted city, making the Strip’s
neon signs look exotic in the night sky.

Trevor held Allie’s chair before taking the seat across from her. “What do you think,
Allison?” he asked, nodding toward the view.

“It’s very nice.” She watched his jaw tighten. She was getting under his skin and
she was glad. He deserved it.

She picked up a menu. She’d never heard of most of the dishes listed, but when the
waiter appeared, Trevor ordered for the both of them. She hated when he did that.

“I think we’ll start with the caviar and a bottle of ’96 Cristal. Then we’d each like
a tasting menu with the wine pairings. Thank you.” He handed the waiter his menu.

She didn’t like caviar. He probably remembered that and ordered it on purpose. Allie
thought back to some of her worst customers. The ones who were angry about having
a room too close to the ice machine. The drunk ones she’d caught peeing in the hallway.
The ones who called her a fucking bitch for not having two queen-sized beds in one
room. She smiled as she handed the waiter her own menu.

Trevor leaned back in his chair. “You look lovely tonight.” He didn’t sound happy
about it.

“Thank you.” Her eyes skidded over him and got caught in his gaze. Those gray eyes
were so penetrating, so intense… She blinked and looked away, directed her attention
to the street below. She ignored him, refusing to look his way again until the waiter
brought their champagne and caviar.

Trevor fixed her a plate of blinis and topped the thin pancakes with a scoop of caviar
and a dollop of crème fraîche. “Here you are, darling. Eat up.”

Allie took the plate and nibbled the blini. This stuff was disgusting. She swallowed
it with a gulp of champagne.

Wearing a concerned frown, Trevor reached out and patted her hand. “I forgot, you
don’t like caviar, do you, darling?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s an acquired taste. You’ll get used to it. I’m sure that if I ate…” He waved
a hand at her. “What did you eat? Something made of hamburger no doubt.” He gave an
affected shudder. “I’m sure it would take me a while to get used to that.” He gave
her his most charming, sexy smile.

“I’m sure it would.”

She poked at her food and even managed to choke down a couple bites by the time their
dinner arrived. The waiter poured a red wine, and when she glanced down, she wasn’t
sure what was on her plate. A small steak with something on top.