Wicked Pleasure

Her heart rate jacked into the danger zone.

Shit.

She’d pushed it coming up here in the first place, she realized as she pulled the door shut behind her as quietly as she could, all the while trying to one-handedly unclasp her purse.

Should have gotten the fuck out when I had the chance.

AJ pulled out her phone. She needed to rearm Liam’s fancy electronic trip wire, or she was as good as caught. He was a details man, and a deactivated alarm was the sort of detail that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

She cursed her impetuousness—always pushing for one more thing, one more score. It was sloppy.

And sloppy gets you caught.

Her thumbs flew over the screen, disconnecting the signal jam she’d deployed to bypass it in the first place. A quick glance at the alarm showed it was still off-line. What the hell?

“Come on,” she breathed, entering the start-up code again.

Still nothing.

Her eyes darted down the hall. Still clear, but not for long.

Think like the tech god. Liam Kearney was smart. Meticulous. Known for his rotating codes and his attention to detail...

Of course! The sequence changed with each restart.

It was ingenious. A discreet little counter that let him know how many reboots the alarm had been through. AJ didn’t have time to be too impressed, though. Whoever was headed her way would be arriving momentarily.

She made the necessary changes to her approach, and within seconds, the little green light on the trip wire flicked on. AJ jammed her phone back into her purse and turned around just as a figure appeared at the end of the hallway.

* * *

Liam braced a shoulder against the wall and allowed himself a moment to watch her as she stood, unaware of his presence, staring thoughtfully at the artwork in the hallway outside his bedroom.

Her profile was beautiful—the slope of her nose, the softness of her lips, the curve of her neck. Her raven curls brushed her shoulder as she tipped her head to the side, engrossed in the painting, as though he’d come upon her in an art gallery instead of sneaking through his house.

“Find what you’re looking for?”

Her gaze didn’t waver from the painting, but a slight smile touched her mouth. It was almost as though she was expecting him. She pointed up at the canvas. “Would have put my money on you being more of a dogs-playing-poker-on-black-velvet man.”

“I lock up the really expensive stuff during parties.” He pushed away from the wall and joined her beside the Pollock. “I thought you might like a tour, but I see you’re already taking one.”

She crossed her arms, drawing his eyes to the way it pushed up her cleavage. “Just curious,” she averred. “I mean, if the bathroom’s that nice, what riches must the rest of the house conceal?”

Her voice was full of sarcastic wonder, and yet again, her impertinence made him stifle a grin.

“Well, there’s no safe hidden behind this painting, if that’s your game.”

She cut him a measuring glance at his opaque reference to the library, and Liam watched, fascinated as the suspicious edge that had marked all their interactions thus far relaxed slightly. Like something had changed between them. “Foiled again.”

“In that case, I’ll call off the cops.” Liam pulled his phone from his pocket and keyed in the current iteration of the rotating eight-digit master password that would unlock the room behind them before stowing it away.

“As for the riches concealed behind these doors, only one way to find out.”

She glanced behind her, shrugging one bare shoulder in a show of nonchalance before she turned and pushed open the double doors to reveal his bedroom suite. If she was impressed by the room, or the glass wall that looked out over the grounds, she didn’t show it.

Despite her nonchalance, his body revved as she stepped over the threshold, wandering deeper inside. At some point after his first million, sex had become an inevitable conclusion. Something easily acquired when and if he wanted it, and much to the disgust of his sixteen-year-old self’s fantasies, less exciting for it.

The thread of danger in this interaction, his inability to decipher whether he was the hunter or the prey, had him on edge, primed for action. He’d forgotten how fucking good sexual tension could be.

She clasped her hands behind her back as she explored, taking in her surroundings. “It’s not what I expected.”

Liam pushed the doors shut, and the click was loud in the sudden silence as the soundproofing kicked in, blocking out the ambient party chatter and the throbbing bass line of the DJ. “What did you expect?”

“Based on your reputation as a jaded international party boy?” She glanced over her shoulder, and her mocking smile almost undid him. “Manacles on the headboard, some kind of swing in the corner.”

Liam slid his hands in his pockets. He wanted her. Against all reason and his better judgment, he wanted her. “I don’t need chains to keep a woman in my bed.”

“You’re awfully confident.” She turned back to the window, staring down at the party below.

She was a fascinating study in contrasts. Tough, but vulnerable. Smart, but impetuous. Gorgeous, but oddly reticent to exploit the hell out of that.

“Just hopeful. And for the record, I’m not opposed to chains. I’m just a strong proponent of mutual reciprocity.”

“That’s encouraging. Although I will admit, I didn’t take you for a literal exhibitionist.” She gestured toward the window, where a web of party lanterns and the submersible spotlights in the fountains lit the way for the dozens of guests still milling about on the sprawling grounds.

She pressed a hand to the window, and something flared in her eyes, something dark and exciting. He watched in fascination as she pushed it down, resurrecting her cool, mocking facade. “I thought you rich guys tended to show off your penises the old-fashioned way—fancy cars and sexual conquests.”

Jesus.

He needed to get his hands on her, his mouth on her.

“Don’t let my tech company fool you. I’m very old-fashioned, with a garage full of penis metaphors to prove it. As for sexual conquests,” he said softly, letting the words hang there for a moment, “don’t tell me this is where your courage deserts you.”

She looked over as he joined her beside the window. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

The declaration was said simply, as though she thought he hadn’t expected her to take him up on his dare to explore this heat arcing between them. But that was only because she didn’t realize how much credit he already gave her. And he didn’t even know her real name yet.

“Not even me?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

He stepped closer, and she shivered, but true to her word, it wasn’t because of fear.

Liam reached out and ran the pad of his thumb down her bare arm, from shoulder to wrist. Her pulse fluttered beneath her skin. “Because usually when people want each other this badly, someone ends up getting burned.”

She leaned into him, so close that her lips brushed his jaw. Her hand drifted down his chest...lower. Lower still. “I like playing with fire.” His knees almost buckled when she stroked the length of him through his pants.

With a quick squeeze, she unhanded him and began dispatching the buttons on his vest with quick efficiency. “Also, for the record,” she informed him, before unknotting his tie, “I’m more of an arsonist than a nurse.” She reached up and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders. “So you’re probably going to want to be careful.”

Careful was the last thing he felt like being with her. He wanted whatever this was, pulsing between them, begging to be let loose.

He swallowed thickly as she slipped his jacket down his arms. “I’m going to need—”

“Your wallet?” she asked, holding it up as the expensive Italian wool blazer hit the ground.

Liam popped the button at his collar. “Impressive sleight of hand.”

She pulled the condom he kept inside free and tossed his leather billfold onto his jacket.

“You’re easy to please.” She tracked his progress as he worked his way down the placket of his shirt, baring his chest to her gaze. “I haven’t even gotten started with my hands yet.”

She pushed him back against the window and set to work on his belt, the button on his pants. The metal hum of his zipper filled the room, filled his head. His breath came fast, and he swore as her hand closed around his erection, freeing him from his boxer-briefs. He wanted her so fucking badly he could barely stand it.

She licked her lips as she circled her thumb, spreading pre-come over his tip. Liam closed his eyes, letting the pleasure wash over him.

Fuck yes.

The sound of the condom wrapper ratcheted up his need.

He opened his eyes so he could watch, so his brain could sync the pleasure of her touch with the visual of her hand on his cock.

“Let’s move this to the bed.” His voice was strained as she slid her hand back up his length.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I want to taste you. Pleasure you with my mouth until you beg me to bury myself inside you so you can come that way, too.”

Her hand stopped its methodical stroking, and he used the slight reprieve to take a full breath.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a generous and talented lover and the champagne and lingerie crowd goes gaga for your smooth promises and high-thread-count sheets, but in case it wasn’t clear, I’m not here for declarations and foreplay. I don’t want to make love. I want you to fuck me.”

Jesus Christ. If his cock hadn’t already been so hard it hurt, that would have gotten him the rest of the way. “Are you—”

“I’m sure.” She grabbed the sides of his open shirt and leaned up to cut him off with her mouth, not kissing him, but catching his bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a sharp tug. When she let go, he soothed the slight sting with his tongue. “You talk too much, you know that?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had any complaints.” Liam let himself touch her, resting his hands on the warm curve of her hips. His fingers flexed, as though seeking the warmth of her skin beneath the fabric in their way. If he didn’t get her naked and wrapped around him soon, he might lose his mind. “But now you’ve forced me to defend my honor.”

CHAPTER FIVE

AJ’S EYES WIDENED as he tightened his grip and spun her to face the window.

Something hot and sharp ran through her veins at the show of dominance.

“Put your hands on the glass.”

Yes.

Her breath left her on a shudder, fogging the window for a split second before it cleared.

This was exactly what she wanted. No hearts and flowers. Just fucking. Down and dirty. Simple. A mistake, maybe, but she was past caring. Her blood always ran hot during a job.

She placed her palms flat against the cool, smooth surface as instructed.

Liam stepped close, until the front of him was plastered against the back of her. He tugged her hips back, as though she wasn’t already aware of the hot, hard length of him pressing against her ass.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was a low rasp against her ear.

She wasn’t sure how she’d given herself away, how he knew this particular fantasy was one of her go-tos. All she knew was that her skin sparked with electric anticipation as she stared down at the unwitting partygoers.

“Does it turn you on to know that one of them could look up and see you pressed against the window, on display?”

The sound that escaped her throat was pure sex.

There was something about the risk of getting caught, of being seen, that made her body burn. It was the perfect combination—the pulse-pounding danger of hacking mixed up with the physical release of sex—a rush that AJ couldn’t help but chase.

“Spread your legs.”

She followed the orders, widening her stance slightly. Liam was tall, but with her heels, their bodies lined up almost perfectly. His breath caught, as though in agreement with her.

“Can you feel how badly I want you?”

AJ swallowed, unable to resist pressing her hips back against him as she nodded.

God. She was so wet, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. She hated to admit it, but Liam just might have the skills to back up his reputation.

He flattened his hands against her hips, tracing the curve down her thighs until the tips of his fingers reached the hem of her dress. It was a relatively short trip, all things considered, and AJ shivered as he fisted his hands in the material and his knuckles brushed the bare skin of her legs.

“Do you want me to pull your dress up and fuck you for them?”

It was like the tech god could read her programming, no training manual required. And so far, he was doing everything right.

“Yes.” She whimpered with pleasure as he dragged the material up her thighs inch by inch, until it was bunched around her waist.

He slid his big hand between her legs, tugging her panties out of the way. AJ almost lost it at the first stroke of his thumb on her clit, hips bucking as he caressed and teased but never granted her the relief she needed more than her next breath.

“You’re soaking wet for me.”

His voice had her on the edge, and suddenly it wasn’t the party outside she was looking at, but the reflection of their bodies in the glass. His hand between her legs, the bounce of her breasts as she pressed back against him.

He did something magical with his fingers that sent sparks shooting up her spine, and she gasped, her body arching with pleasure as the world went dark. It took her a moment to realize why and another to wrest her eyelids open.

“I want you so fucking badly.” Not just dirty talk now, as their eyes met in the window. A confession.

A truth she felt even through the reflection, because she wanted him, too.

Her head fell back against his shoulder. Liam pounced on her exposed throat, and the searing heat of his tongue on her skin amped up her pleasure.

He groaned as he slid his cock between her thighs, and she rocked back, desperate for contact, spiraling closer and closer toward climax, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

“Do it.” It was an order. A plea.

“You’re not the one in control here.”

Judging by the harsh rasp of his breathing and the instinctive rocking of his hips, neither was he, so she let it slide.

And then, thank the sex gods, he was finally inside her, and she moaned as her body stretched to accommodate his impressive erection.

Good boy.

“Fuck.” His curse said it all.

Everything in her world narrowed to this—the scent of man and sex and want, and God, did she want.

Then Liam started to move for real.

And it was spectacular.

Combustion was too tame a description for what was happening between them. He wasn’t kidding about getting burned. Their bodies fit together like they were two pieces of a whole, built to fuck. And Liam was definitely doing his part.

He rolled his hips, setting up a rhythm that had her this close to purring, and her world narrowed to between her legs. Was sex always this good? Had it been so long that she’d just forgotten? Then he slowed his pace and pushed deep, and AJ knew she’d never have forgotten anything like this.

She braced herself against the window with her forearms, pushing back against him as he drove into her, powerless against the wet heat, the buildup of pleasure, the promise of the climax to end all climaxes.

Liam Kearney had mad skills.

She wanted this man, the scrape of his teeth on her neck, the shocking wet heat of his mouth on her skin. It was animalistic, the way she craved him, how much she needed what he was doing to her. His left palm slapped against the window for purchase, right above hers, and the tip of her middle finger touched the heel of his hand. In the heat of the moment, it struck AJ as oddly intimate.

“Christ,” he growled. “Once isn’t going to be enough, baby.”

Under normal circumstances, she might have taken issue with the endearment, but she couldn’t stand the idea of him calling her Robin right now, so she’d take baby all day and all night if it meant he’d keep making her feel this way.

“Your thighs are shaking. Do you want to come for me?”

Fuck yes.

And she was close, so damn close she could taste the imminent pleasure like candy on her tongue. As if he sensed it, Liam twined the fingers of his free hand in her hair, pulling tight enough to make her gasp. He pounced on her open mouth, the rough kiss timed perfectly with the plunge of his hips, and pleasure detonated through her, stealing her breath as he drove into her again and again before he shuddered against her, joining her in sweat-slicked paradise.

Holy shit.

AJ leaned her forehead against the cool glass, trying to catch her breath.

It had been way too long since she’d had her world rocked, that was for damn sure.

“Still think I talk too much?”

She bit her lip against the wayward smile trying to escape as she turned to face him, her shoulders resting against the window. He didn’t need any encouragement. “Only during the non-sex parts of our acquaintance.”

His answering grin stole her breath. Liam Kearney had one hell of a smile. It was a little disorienting when he weaponized it like that, and it threw her off. Otherwise she definitely would have moved before he braced his hands on the glass on either side of her head. At the very least, she would have turned her head when he leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss that melted her, softening her knees to the point she had to grab on to his shoulders to keep from liquefying and sliding down the window.

When he finally pulled back, AJ’s chest constricted as their eyes met. The intimacy of the moment quaked through her, far more intense than anything that had preceded it. This time when her heartbeat picked up, it had an edge of panic to it. Her hands slipped off his shoulders, but he didn’t back up.

“Next time we do this, let’s make sure I’m not hosting a party I have to get back to.”

He was too close. People saw too much when they were this close.

“Yeah, you have shit for timing,” AJ agreed, ignoring the reference to next time. Because there was no next time for them. Hell, with every second that ticked by, she was more and more convinced there shouldn’t have been a this time.

“I’m going to shower.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder before he straightened up. “You’re welcome to join me.”

She shimmied her dress back down her thighs. “Yeah. I need a minute first. I don’t think I can walk yet.”

The compliment earned her a smug chuckle as he unhooked his cuff links with deft, economical movements that said he’d done the same thing countless times before. “If you promise not to take too long, I’ll save you a spot,” he teased.

That was the moment AJ realized just how very fucked she was.

Because she wanted to follow him.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that she’d risked everything she had getting into this party. If she didn’t get the hell out of the mansion that Cybercore built as soon as possible, this unsanctioned mission might end up harming Whitfield Industries more than it helped.

Liam Kearney was a kingpin of the tech industry. Her hacked invitation wouldn’t go unnoticed forever. He was too smart for that.

The sound of the shower flipping on drew her attention.

AJ pushed down the resurgence of lust and the even more inconvenient pang of...longing?

Finish the job, she reminded herself.

AJ grabbed her satin purse and headed for the bedroom door, keeping her eyes stubbornly forward as she passed his en suite. She paused only twice as she fled from his house, once to grab her motion sensor from the baseboard in the hallway, and the second time to shoot a quick text to her getaway man—a cabbie who’d jumped at the grand she’d offered to drive her to this shindig and wait until she was ready to bail. AJ pushed through the imposing front door and she was relieved to see the yellow car pull into view as she hurried down to the end of the massive driveway.

AJ slowed as she approached the heavy security presence. She’d been hoping that would have thinned out a bit once the revelry got underway. Keeping her head down, she tried to blend in with the trickle of guests who were mulling about near the big gate, smoking.

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