37. Crew
“Thanks for letting me know, Leroy, I appreciate it.”
I toss my phone across the desk the moment I hang up with the current leader of the Thorne family. Charles reached out again to both him and Noah, which means he’s getting desperate.
The longer that asshole walks the streets of New York, the more on edge I become.
Voices at the door make me pause as I reach to pull my laptop closer. Bishop has been telling me for weeks that there’s something weird happening with the casino numbers, but I can’t see it no matter how long I stare at the spreadsheet.
“Camilla—” Kovu’s cut off when the door swings open and the little firecracker marches herself into my office like she owns the place.
I won’t lie. The sight of her in here, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her face free from makeup, and her wearing nothing but one of Bishop’s button downs, it’s fucking appealing as hell. But that doesn’t mean she should be in here. There are a number of compromising things in this office that she could see, and Kovu knows that. What the fuck was he thinking bringing her here?
I notice the scrunched-up paper in her hands moments before she slams it down in the middle of my desk. Anger radiates off her, and I can’t help but smirk when I notice the title of the first piece of paper.
Birth Control Implant.
“What the fuck is this, Crew?” she demands, her good hand falling to her hip. “What makes you think you have any say about whether I go on fucking birth control?”
I sit back in my seat and consider her. Fuck, is she stunning. But mad? Mad, she’s fucking spectacular. She’s fiery in a way I’ve never found appealing in the past. But now? Now all I want to do is bend her over my desk and spank her until she fucking bleeds. Not that that would stop her. No. I have a feeling there’s nothing we could do to our little menace that would break her spirit. And that’s why she belongs here. With us.
It’s a hard reality to swallow as someone who has sworn off relationships. And hell, I don’t know if that’s what we would call this thing that will blossom between us. But that’s irrelevant. I want her. We want her. And I’m not going to deprive myself or the others of something we clearly crave so deeply.
I turn to Kovu. “You shouldn’t have brought her up here.”
He chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “And miss this fireworks show? No way.”
I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to Camilla. “Come here.” I push my chair out to make room for her in front of me.
“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Camilla,” I growl, my hands fisting of their own accord. It’s been a long time since someone has denied me, and I don’t intend to allow her to get away with it.
“I said, no, Crew.” Her eyes slip closed for a moment, and I see a flicker of the girl she hides away, the one I want to meet. The others have met her when she’s been vulnerable, but I’m always faced with the mask. The version she was taught to show the world.
“Do as you’re told, or you won’t like the consequences.”
“What the fuck are you going to do?” she demands. “Huh? You going to kill me? Send me back to Charles? What?”
A snicker at the edge of the room has my glare turning back to Kovu, his eyes amused as he watches us.
I shove my chair back and prowl toward the woman who has enraptured each of us. She’s too shocked to back away from my advance, and I quickly pluck her off the ground.
“What the fuck?” she shouts, shoving at my arms around her like she thinks she’ll be able to overpower me.
Without bothering to respond, I deposit her on the edge of the desk and crowd her space, trapping her between me and the solid oak, giving her no escape.
This is how I like my women.
At my mercy.
“Crew,” Camilla warns, her eyes darting around looking for something she can use to escape, but there’s no escaping the devil. Or, in this case, four.
I notice Kovu moves farther into the room in my peripheral, but I’m too focused on her to care what the hell he’s doing.
“I suggest you shut your mouth,” I growl. “Don’t push me.”
Her eyes flash with challenge, and I move farther into her space until there’s nothing between us. Just her heaving chest and mine, pressed together in a battle of wills. “Or what? You never answered me.” There’s a subtle tremble in her voice that most would miss. But most aren’t in my position. They haven’t made their career from reading others.
“Do you still think we’re going to hand you over to Charles?” I ask, my voice low and menacing.
Her mouth opens, but she can’t seem to speak with me crowding her like this. Good. Seeing her out of sorts is strangely arousing, and I make a conscious effort to hold my hips back from hers. She doesn’t need to feel how fucking hard I am for her right now when she’s freaking out.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the calm my body needs. She’s not ready to see the darkest parts of me just yet, and I don’t want to be the one to scare her off. The others will do enough of that. “How many times do we have to tell you before you believe us?”
She shrugs, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to hold my gaze. “We are not going to be handing you over, Camilla. I don’t care if I have to tell you every fucking day to make you accept it, but you will believe me.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” she snaps. “If you’re not holding me hostage and preparing me to be handed over to Davenport, then why the hell am I still here? I’m sure you’re all sick of babysitting me.”
Kovu snarls behind her, but I don’t allow her to tear her eyes off mine to look at him.
“Little Menace. Why do you think I had Rogers give you those papers?” I raise a brow as I wait for the penny to drop.
She shakes her head with the limited range I give her. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”
Without hesitating, I lean forward and seal my lips to hers, swiping my tongue along the seam of the pouty pillows and groaning at how fucking sweet she tastes. I knew yesterday when I kissed her that those gentle caresses wouldn’t be enough for me. That I would need more.
Her lips are hesitant against mine, but she doesn’t pull away. Would I let her if she did? Probably not. I’m not used to being denied what I want, and there’s nothing I want more than to devour the little menace perched on the edge of my desk.
I drop my hand from her chin and sink it into the back of her dark hair, holding her in place as my lips take what they want from her, desperate and needy. The fire that burns in my stomach is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and once I get my first taste of her, there’s no coming back. I thought those gentle kisses in the kitchen would tie me over for a little while, but if anything, they dragged me deeper into her orbit.
I bite down on her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp hiss from her throat before I drag my tongue over the bite marks, soothing the pain for her.
When I finally drag my lips away from here, we’re both breathing heavily. She stares into my eyes, hers blown wide and conflicted, but she doesn’t pull away. Her breath whispers across my cheeks, and I can’t help but lean closer.
“Do you understand now, Camilla?”