Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) Read online

  Eva held her hand up, palm out, and curled her fingers twice in a Matrix-style bring it gesture.

  Yeah, it was on. He took his time to study every alcoholic horror the chalkboard had to offer, then finally decided on something called a Cement Mixer.

  Eva’s smile widened when the bartender cheerily poured a shot of Bailey’s. “Hah. I love Bailey’s.”

  Cam said nothing, just tilted his head to draw her attention back to what the bartender was doing. The man poured lime juice into the Bailey’s and the liqueur immediately started to curdle. Eva winced and reached for the shot like someone would reach into a snake pit. She gave him a pleading look, but he wasn’t about to take pity now. Not when the apocalyptic lighter fluid shot was still burning a hole in the lining of his stomach.

  He mimed taking the shot. “Bottoms up or pay up.”

  “Oh, I hate you,” she said, then downed it. Or at least tried to, but its consistency was indeed like cement and she ended up chewing it, making faces the whole time.

  Cam laughed. “Hey, this was your idea.”

  “I’m gonna get you for this one,” she mumbled and finally managed to force the Cement Mixer down her throat.

  The game quickly devolved from there, ending with Eva choking down a shot called Motor Oil, which she declared aptly named because it did taste like the black gunk that came out of a car long overdue for an oil change. Cam finished on some nasty concoction of Jägermeister and a dollop of warm mayonnaise and the slimy consistency had him coughing the moment it hit the back of his throat.

  Eva laughed so hard she snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. “The look on your face… Oh, wait, where’s your phone? I need a record of this.”

  She reached across the space between them and stuck her hand in his right front pocket, where he always kept his phone. With the alcohol in his system already warming him from the inside out, he thought he might burst into flames at the feel of her hand brushing against his thigh—and other, harder things. He started fantasizing about her closing her hand around his cock and giving it a hard stroke right there under the overhang of the bar—and that didn’t help his situation any. He really should be thinking about baseball. Or golf. That was a perfectly unexciting sport. Except her fingers were right there, and he found himself unable to focus on anything but the sensation of her lingering touch. He tried to suppress the groan gathering in his chest, but didn’t quite manage it.

  Eva stared up at him, her eyes glazed and lids heavy. Her lips parted on a soft, shaky exhale, her fingers flexed, and anticipation rocketed up his shaft. Just a few more centimeters over…

  After a long, uncertain moment, she withdrew her hand. He missed the contact instantly.

  Hello, awkward silence. And they had been doing so well, too.

  “We should get back to the wedding,” she said a bit breathlessly and wobbled to her feet.

  The wedding. Right. But, damn, with the way she was looking at him, all but stripping him with her eyes…

  He stood, but didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he stepped into her personal space, his heart pounding so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if everyone in the bar could hear it. His fingers trembled a little as he flicked the tie of her halter top off her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  She glanced toward the door and winced. “No. I really don’t want to go back there.”

  “Me, either,” he admitted and leaned closer.

  Eva titled her head back, her lips half parted. Maybe this was it. Maybe she’d finally give in to the sexual tension that had always been on a low simmer between them. Maybe—

  She backed up a step. “I’m going to call it a night, but you should probably go back to the reception. It is your brother’s wedding, after all.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Nodding, Cam ruthlessly squashed the surge of disappointment and stepped back. “Let me pay our tab, then I’ll walk you up.”

  “I’m a big girl, Wilde. Can take care of myself.” She rubbed her thumb across his jaw, then patted his cheek. “They even let me carry a gun and everything.”

  Which reminded him that she was supposedly carrying a firearm somewhere under her dress, and his gaze dropped down her body. A surge of giddy lightheadedness combined with the muffled buzz of alcohol had him grabbing the bar to steady himself.

  Eva turned to stroll away, but ruined her exit by wobbling dangerously after a few steps. He launched forward and caught her around the waist before she toppled, but his sense of balance was just as wonky, and they both nearly tumbled into a laughing heap on the floor.

  “I’m good. I’m good,” she gasped once they righted themselves. She pushed him away but didn’t brace herself for when he let go and ended up flailing around like Kermit the Frog before he caught her again.

  He stifled a laugh. “No, you’re not. You can’t possibly be because I’m buzzing pretty good, and I have at least seventy pounds on you.”

  “Psh. Seventy pounds or not, I can drink you under the table any day and we both know it.”

  Not this time. One of those shots had hit her really fucking hard. “Just let me be the gentleman my mom raised me to be, okay? She would roll over in her grave if I didn’t make sure you got back to your room after letting you get this drunk.”

  “You didn’t let me…drunk. No, wait.” Realizing she’d totally slurred that sentence, she shook her head and straightened her shoulders with as much dignity as she could muster. She chose her next words more carefully. “I have a little buzz, that’s all.” Then she giggled, which told him everything he needed to know about how drunk she really was. Eva never giggled. “Those shots were horrible, weren’t they?”

  “The Jäger and mayonnaise was a particularly revolting choice,” he said and gave the bartender his room number to have the tab added to his bill. He stuffed a twenty in the tip jar as he half-wobbled, half-carried Eva out the door to the elevators in the lobby.

  Yeah, pretty sure the floor wasn’t supposed to ebb and flow like the ocean tide. He was really going to hate himself come morning.

  “Couldn’t have been any worse than the Bailey’s and lime juice,” Eva said and jabbed the elevator’s up button. “I gotta give you kudos for that one. I’ve never had to chew a shot anymore. No, before. I meant before.”

  “Yeah, I knew what you meant.”

  She smiled up at him. “That’s ‘cause you’re fluent in Eva Speak.”

  Damn, he wanted to kiss her. It wouldn’t take much with her upturned face right there, her mouth mere inches away. All he had to do was drop his head and—

  The elevator doors opened and someone cleared his throat. Cam’s head whipped up, which made the room spin around him, and it took a long moment to focus on his twin standing in the elevator.

  Vaughn scowled at the two of them and stepped out of the car. “Where the hell have you been all night? When you didn’t return, Reece started panicking and launched a search.”

  Translation: Vaughn started panicking, not Reece. He always assigned his emotions to one of their other brothers, especially if he thought said emotions were not befitting of a former SEAL. Like panic, for instance.

  “Hey, now.” Eva stepped forward, putting herself between them. She didn’t let go of Cam, though. Mainly because she’d probably topple over if she did. Hell, he’d probably topple over if she did.

  “Don’t be mad at him. He was commiser…acating with me over my horrible taste in men.” She pouted and tipped her head back to gaze up at Cam. “Why the does everyone lie to me?”

  “Commiserating?” Vaughn sneered. “Is that what you call getting him shitfaced drunk?”

  “Vaughn…” Cam said with a note of warning that clearly told his twin to back the fuck off the protective “big” brother routine. The guy was only ten minutes older for christssakes. He turned his attention back to Eva and gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  Well, not exactly. Some might call him keeping his feelings to himself a
lie, but he preferred to think of it as an omission for her own good. If he told her how he felt, she might get her hopes up, start fantasizing about that happily ever after she secretly craved, and he wasn’t the kind of man that could give it. He was not the marriage or family type and he couldn’t hurt her like that.

  But he’d never tell her an outright lie.

  “That’s because you’re a good friend.” She patted his chest and looked at Vaughn, her chin lifting in defense. “And he’s not drunk.”

  Vaughn glared at them both. “Bullshit. He can’t even stand up straight.”

  “Okay, maybe I am,” Cam said. “What’s it to you? I don’t need your permission to have a few.”

  Vaughn growled low in his throat, his bad mood darkening the air around him like a cloud. And what the fuck was up with that? While he definitely wasn’t always roses and sunshine, he wasn’t usually a flat-out jerk like this, either.

  “Man, who stuck a poker up your ass and left it there? C’mon, leave Eva alone. She’s already had a rough night.”

  “No, it’s fine, Cam. Although…” She gave Vaughn an apprising up-down that would have scalded a lesser man. “It still astounds me that you two share the same DNA when he’s a complete jackass and you’re…well, not. All the time.”

  Vaughn’s lip curled. “He got all the good genes.”

  “Obviously. Now if you’ll excuse us, I need to go to my room before I pass out, and Cam is the only thing holding me up right now. So, shoo, evil twin.”

  Cam tried not to laugh. He really did, but Vaughn looked like one of those angry Saturday morning cartoon characters, the ones with heaving chests and bulging eyes and smoke pouring out of their ears. Besides, Cam was usually the first to defend his twin, but this time, Vaughn deserved to be knocked down a peg. Whatever had put him in such a pissy mood, he didn’t need to be taking it out on Eva.

  Without another word, Vaughn stalked past them, heading toward the bar they’d just left.

  “I recommend the Prairie Fire,” Eva called after him.

  Cam grinned and jabbed the button for the elevator, which had left without them. “He’ll probably like it. His SEAL buddies call him Tabasco because he carries around a plastic bottle of the stuff and puts it on everything.”

  Eva made a face. “Really? Gross.”

  “Yup. We may share our DNA, but we definitely weren’t born with the same taste buds.”

  The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. The ride up to the fourth floor started in an easy silence, but the confined space and the way she leaned against his side, her breast occasionally brushing his arm, started to get to him. He caught a light floral scent from her hair and he dipped his head closer to breathe it in. Probably just her shampoo since he knew for a fact she rarely wore perfume. Even so, he found the scent intoxicating.

  Or maybe that was just the alcohol in his system.

  Or a mixture of both.

  A distant, muffled alarm started signaling in the back of his mind as the elevator opened to their floor. Her room was only three doors to the left. His and Vaughn’s was six doors to the right, and part of him—the part shooting off warning flares—thought this should be his stop. He could stand right here by the elevator and watch her until she was safely inside her room. Then he’d go back downstairs and—

  “Would you mind staying with me for a while?” she blurted, then glanced away. “I’m, uh, not really ready to be alone with my thoughts yet.”

  Bad. Idea.

  Very. Bad. Idea.

  He completely ignored the warning klaxon now blaring in his head. In that moment, with the alcohol a pleasant hum in his brain and her standing there in that red dress looking both disheveled and sexy, he would have done anything for her.

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Five

  Eva fumbled her key before getting it into the slot and shoving down the handle to open her room’s door. She weaved inside and found a light switch that turned on the bedside lamp. But the light made her feel self-conscious and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself as she faced Cam. He’d paused at the threshold, his hand on the door jamb for support. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the rattan furniture and the windows that offered a 180 degree view of the ocean. Then his eyes locked on the king-sized bed.

  Her stomach did a funny flurry thing as she set her key card on top of the mini-fridge positioned in a nook between the bathroom and the main part of the room. She opened the fridge and grabbed two of the hotel’s ridiculously priced bottles of water. “We should probably have some water or we’re gonna hate ourselves tomorrow. We can sit out on the balcony and…talk. Or something. Whatever.”

  Cam hadn’t set foot in the room and his gaze was still fastened on the bed. She wasn’t sure if he’d even heard her rambling.

  “Cam?”

  His throat worked, and he closed his eyes for a moment as if in pain. “You know, I should go. I have…” He waved a hand in a vague motion behind him.

  “Oh. Of course. It’s your brother’s wedding. I’m sorry. Don’t worry, I’m fine now.”

  “No, it’s not—” He met her gaze for a bare instant, only long enough for her to notice the heat in his eyes. He cursed, and his voice came out thick. “I should just…go.”

  “Okay.”

  He hesitated, then stepped back. “See ya,” he said before the door fell shut.

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders sagged under the brutal weight of disappointment. “See ya, Cam.”

  She stood rooted to the spot for a long time, until she realized tears had blurred her vision.

  Dammit, she’d just taken an all-expenses paid trip to self-pity land, which included such fun rides as the self-doubt roller coaster and the insecurity-inducing house of mirrors.

  “Ugh.” She swiped a hand over her eyes. “Pull up your big girl panties now, Eva.”

  She returned the water to the fridge then forced herself to move, but only made it as far as the end of the bed. She sank to the plush mattress and stared at her bare toes with the fuck-me-now red pedicure her sister had insisted on before she left D.C.

  After a few minutes, the quiet in the room began to press her down, made it hard to breathe.

  Oh, God, she had wanted Cam to stay. Wanted to feel his hands on her again, his mouth against hers. She’d wanted…things that she shouldn’t want in conjunction with him. Most of all, she’d wanted him to make her forget everything, which wasn’t fair for so many reasons. Besides, she’d already monopolized most of his evening when he had family obligations.

  And even telling herself all that, it hurt like hell that he’d walked away.

  As her eyes began to tear up again, she dove for the TV remote and switched on the set. The local news came on, and she flipped through until she found an all-music channel playing country. She turned the volume down until Lady Antebellum’s Need You Now was little more than white noise in the background.

  Okay, this wasn’t so bad. Now that she didn’t have to listen to herself think, she could handle this. She needed to deal with the alcohol in her system or she’d wake up with a killer hangover. No problem. She’d draw a bath in the Jacuzzi tub, gulp down some Tylenol and a few bottles of water, then just enjoy a relaxing night. By herself. Because Preston sure as hell hadn’t wanted her. And Cam—

  Well, it was better that he didn’t want her like that, right? She bombed at the whole dating thing, and how many times had Cam told her he wasn’t looking for a committed relationship? Sex with him would only end in disaster, and she didn’t want to lose the only solid, stable thing she had in her life. So, yes, it was a good thing he didn’t want her. It was.

  Now if she could just convince her libido of that.

  Exasperated with herself, she stood and reached under her skirt to finally yank off the damn thong.

  Ah. So much better.

  She wadded the horrible excuse for underwear and shot it toward the garbage can, but a sharp rap on the door made her jump and threw off her
aim. The thong landed artfully on the desk lamp.

  Who the hell…?

  She reached through the slit in her dress and rested her hand on her gun. She’d felt naked without it so, much to her sister’s dismay, she’d made sure the dress would hide a slim thigh holster. Thank God. Unexpected knocks on hotel room doors usually didn’t end well.

  She peeked through the peep hole.

  Cam.

  Relaxing, she opened the door. “Hey, you scared the shit outta me. What—”

  He didn’t let her finish. He stepped toward her, cupped a hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her lips to his, swallowing her gasp of surprise. His mouth tasted of minty toothpaste, and his hair was soaked, the spiky dark strands dripping down his back and shoulders as if he hadn’t bothered to dry off after a shower. He still wore the outrageous Hawaiian shirt, but it was unbuttoned, thrown back on as an afterthought. His shorts hung low, highlighting the V of muscle at his hips and doing little to conceal how very aroused he was.

  She should push him away. Hadn’t she already decided this couldn’t happen between them? It was only going to complicate things and—

  He flattened his free hand across the small of her back, drawing her flush against him, and his erection thrust insistently at her belly.

  “Oh…” Everything female in her shuddered with pleasure and her mind blanked of all but his taste, his scent, and a rising tide of anticipation. All such a delicious reprieve from the emotional turbulence of the evening, and she let herself melt into his kiss. Her nipples hardened under the silky material of her dress as she rubbed against his hard body. He maneuvered them far enough into the room that he was able to kick the door shut, then spun and pressed her back against the cool metal. His hands roamed under the skirt of her dress, found her ass, and boosted her up. She locked her legs around his hips. He was giving her the gift of release and, dammit, she needed it. Needed him. Right here, right now.