Wicked Game: a Billionaire Stepbrother Romance (14 page)

In the morning, the soft sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains woke me.
 
A yawn escaped me, and I rubbed away the sleep from my eyes with the heel of my hand.
 
Every muscle was pleasantly sore, and every inch of me ached wonderfully.
 
The silk sheets of the bed kept my body luxuriously warm, like sleeping in the summer ocean.

A silly smile crawled up my face as I woke.

Why do I feel so good?
I wondered, still half asleep.

I rolled over, grasping at the pillow beside me.

Damien’s sleeping face was only an inch from mine.

“Shit!” I cried, flinging myself up in bed.

Oh right.

That’s why.

Damien’s eyes fluttered open, and a confused expression spread across his face.
 
He glanced up at me with a raised eyebrow.
 
His eyes popped open for a moment, just as surprised as I was at the fact that we had slept together (in both senses).
 

Then a cocky, greedy smile replaced the confused one.

“Morning, wifey.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh God, not that again,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically.
 
“You’re naked in my bed with sex hair.
 
There’s no denying it anymore, wifey.”

“I said don’t call me that.”

With a groan, Damien propped himself up.
 
He ran his hand through his hair as he studied my panicking form at the other side of the bed.
 
He frowned sourly.

“What is it, Cleo?
 
Why are you so mad?
 
What did I do now?”

“We shouldn’t have done this.
 
This was a mistake.”

His jaw dropped.
 
“You can’t be serious.”

I threw the sheets off of me, ready to bolt.
 
Damien’s gaze lazily walked itself down to my chest, taking in the sight of my exposed breasts.
 
I snatched the blanket back and covered myself.
 
There was no way I was letting this trainwreck go on any longer than it needed to.
 
This ended now.

“You didn’t seem so sure about that when you were begging for my cock last night.”

I flinched.
 
Shit, I had begged, hadn’t I?

This man really was getting to me.

And that was dangerous.
 
I needed to put a stop to this.

“So I wanted sex.
 
That doesn’t mean this needs to last longer than a night.”

Damien flinched, like that had really hurt.
 

It confused me, but I pushed it out of my mind.
 
There was no way he could actually want me for longer than a night.
 
This was just another one of Damien Blackwood’s Ridiculous Crazy Adventures.
 
And I was just another lay.
 
As long as I was smart enough to remember that, I wouldn’t get hurt again.
 

This wasn’t a relationship, I reminded myself.
 

It was a way to steal his dead dad’s money.

That’s all.

“Cleo, you’re going to have to start making sense.
 
I can’t understand anything before my first coffee of the morning.”

He leaned forward, and his finger stroked along my shoulder.
 
There was something strangely soft and affectionate about the motion.
 
I shrugged his hand away, disturbed by how sweet and romantic he was acting.
 

I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but I didn’t like it.

Damien sighed.
 
“Okay, fine.
 
What did I do, and how much do I have to pay to make up for it?
 

“You didn’t
do
anything.”
 

Besides making me come harder and faster than I knew possible.
 
Though I pushed that thought out of my mind before I could get any dangerous ideas—after all, we were still naked in bed together.
 
I didn’t like him, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was hot as hell.
 

“I just don’t want this getting out of hand,” I added. “That’s all.”

“Out of hand?”

“We fucked.
 
That’s it.
 
Let’s not pretend it was anything else.”

I didn’t want to get caught in that trap again—thinking Damien did anything more than fuck.
 
He was famous for being a playboy.
 
I would be stupid for wanting anything more.
 

Though deep down, I realized a small part of me still did.
 

God, adult relationships were confusing.
 
I hated being an adult.  Couldn’t I just be a stupid kid again?

Damien tried to lean forward, tilting his head to kiss me.

I pushed him off of me and crossed my arms.

“You can go now,” I said, breathless.  

“This is my bedroom.”

“And I have to get dressed.
 
Leave.”

Damien pouted at me like a sad puppy.  I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

“Cleo…  I don’t understand,” he groaned.  “One minute you hate me.  The next minute you want to fuck my brains out.  You act like you love me, you kiss me, then you push me off of you and kick me out of my own bedroom.”

You act like you love me?
 
What did Damien know about love?

That cut deep.
 
I had managed to keep a level head so far, but that was too much.
 
I pushed myself away from him, ready to make a break with it with the sheet wrapped around me.
 
Hopefully my nakedness wouldn’t blind any nearby maids.

“No,” he said, snatching my hand and keeping me near him.
 
“You don’t get to run away this time, Cleo.
 
 
At least give me an answer.
 
I want you to stay.
 
I need you to stay.
 
Just this once.”

“Why?” I asked bitterly.
 
“Because you’re so
in love
with me?”

“Yes.”

I flinched.
 
God, that hurt.
 

“Don’t fucking say that,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut.
 
I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice and failed miserably.
 
“You don’t have to lie anymore.”

“Lie?”
 
His voice was enraged again.
 
The sleep left his eyes, replaced by indignant anger.
 
“You think I would lie about something like that?”

“Like you haven’t before,” I snapped.
 

“Cleo,” he groaned.
 
“I don’t understand.
 
Do you think this was just sex?
 
Because I can tell you, wifey—it was a fucking lot more than that.
 
And you’re staying in bed with me.”

“Why?  So you can leave in the morning?”

A tiny glimmer of recognition gleamed in his eyes.  He frowned.

“Is this about … er, what happened between us when we were kids?” he asked, sucking on his bottom lip.
 
Normally I would want to bite that lip and pull him onto me again, but I was overwhelmed by my anger.  

I had to be big-girl-mature-Cleo.  

Not horny teenage fuck-your-stepbrother Cleo.

“You mean the time you popped my cherry and ran off like a drunk one night stand?”

He winced.

“I already told you, Cleo.  It wasn’t my choice.  I was forced to leave.  We both know that.
 
And this is nothing like it was then.”

“Bullshit.  

“Cleo—”

I held up a hand, cutting him off.  I was surprised to hear it work.

“I’m not asking for an apology,” I said, sitting on my hands to prevent myself from strangling him.
 
“I’m just asking that you stop lying to me from now on.”

With an angry, growled groan, Damien fell back on the pillows.

“I know I was a fucking idiot as a kid, Cleo.  I should have been better about what happened between us.
 
I should have found a way to talk to you again.
 
But I’m not the same as I used to be.
 
And you have no idea how much I wish things could have been different.
 
But with our parents divorcing—”

“I know,” I sighed reluctantly.  It was true, wasn’t it?
 
I still didn’t trust him, but at least Adult Damien cared about my feelings, even if it was only because we were fake-married.
 
“But it doesn’t change what happened before.”

“You liked me then,” he said in a surprisingly small, hurt voice.

“I liked who I thought you were.”

He paused.  “Do you like me now?”

I thought about it.  He took me on ridiculous adventures.

“Yes,” I said finally.  I didn’t love him, and I didn’t trust him.
 
And I sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to obsess over him like I had as a teenager.
 
But I did like him, if only because he made my life interesting.
 
“Maybe.
 
Though I’ll probably regret that.”

Damien’s cocky grin came back.  

Damn it.  Wrong answer.

He crawled forward on the bed, running his fingers down my smooth leg.  “So why are you so pissed about our teenage years, Sis?” he asked with a cocky grin.  “Was I too good?  Did I ruin other men for you?”

I kicked his hand away.  

“The universe does not revolve around your dick, Damien Blackwood.”

“Are you sure?  I heard massive things have a gravitational pull.”

I desperately tried not to smile.  Dear God, I couldn’t let him see me laugh.  The second he figured out I had a soft spot for him, my panties were goners.

“You don’t have to be such a sarcastic emotional zombie,” he added, glancing over at me.
 
“You’re allowed to have feelings.
 
And I’m sure as fuck going to figure out what you feel about me deep down, whether you like it or not.”

“Shit, Damien.  Did you ever think this isn’t about emotion at all?  Did you ever think maybe I just need a good lay?”

His eyes perked up.  With a dangerous smile, he licked his lips.

“You could have just told me.”

“Forget I said it,” I groaned.

Wrong, wrong, wrong answer.

“You need a good lay?” he asked.

He lied back on the bed, stretching his arms out and biting his bottom lip.  From this position, his muscles were visible beneath the damp shirt.  His dark hair was gloriously messy, and I could see his tongue running along his teeth.  His eyes locked with mine, and I could practically hear them burning the words FUCK ME into my head.  

God damn him for being so sexy.

“Waiting,” he said simply.

“Like I said.  The world doesn’t revolve around your dick.”  

I moved my arm to throw a pillow at him, but he grabbed my wrist.  Suddenly, he rolled me on top of him, my chest pressed against his and my lips only an inch from his.

“If all you need is a good fuck,” he said.  “You could have just asked.”

“Damien, get the fuck off of me before you lose your gravitational dick.”

“Oh?  Do you want to be on bottom?”

“What?”

Before I could react, Damien had grabbed me by the shoulders and rolled me over on my back.  I struggled through the dizziness, slowly realizing that Damien’s warm, strong body was pressed against mine.  His eyes burned into mine, that dangerous grin still teasing me.

I glared.

“Oh yes,” he said, nodding.  “I think I like you on bottom too.”

“If you don’t get off of me, you’ll be six feet under.”

“You want me on bottom?”  His fingers slipped down the side of my body, sending delicious tingles of electricity soaring through my limbs.  “Damn, Cleo.  I forgot what a fucking demon you were in bed.”

Yes, because missionary virgin sex is positively demonic, I wanted to snap back.  I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge the sex we had had last night, not now that my head was full of horrible emotional relationship stuff.

Honestly, I couldn’t say anything, because he had grabbed me by the shoulders again.  Another wave of dizziness hit me as he jerked me on top of him, straddling him as my hips were pushed down against his.  His fingers dug into my thighs, steadying me on top of him as I caught my breath.

Thank God he was still wearing pajama pants.  I would die of embarrassment if he could feel the wet spot growing on my panties against his bare skin.

“Damien.
 
Get.
 
Off.”