Fyre & Revenge (4 page)

Logan laughed.
“You bloody sly dog! That’s got to be Zette Matthews. I didn’t
realise you two were acquainted. Christ, please tell me you haven’t
set your sights on her for this madcap scheme?”

“Maybe.”

“Fucking hell!
I wish I’d known that when you asked me to draw up those damn
papers! There’s going to be hell to pay when you divorce her,”
Logan groaned, using his most ‘put upon’ voice.

JJ just
shrugged, most of his attention on his lovely companion as the
waiter returned with their coffee. Where had the shy teenager gone?
Because the siren who had replaced her bore no resemblance to the
socially inept and nervous girl he remembered. Perhaps her mother
had stepped in and done something to actually help her daughter
instead of pursuing her own selfish pursuits.

“So? It’s not
like a little bad publicity ever bothered us before, is it?” He
really didn’t care what the papers said about him. To them he was
the bad boy of business, the Mako of the corporate world. He didn’t
bother to correct their stories. It made his competitors nervous
and he liked them that way. They were more liable to make
mistakes.

“Crap, crap,
crap…” Logan hissed. “No, but you never screwed around with the
media’s darling before. The woman can do no wrong in their eyes.
Shit…they’re going to crucify us.”

“So get someone
to dig up some dirt so we have something to fight back with. That
kind of person, there’s bound to be a skeleton in the closet
somewhere, start with the family and work from there,” he
ordered.

“I don’t
suppose I can quit now and save myself the stress can I?” Logan
asked glumly.

But JJ knew
him, knew that already his eyes were sparkling with the light of
challenge. He knew his would be, and they were cut from the same
cloth.

“You could. But
you won’t,” he said, and flipped his phone closed, ending the call.
“You ready to leave Zette?”

* * *

Zette swallowed
and nodded, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. No,
she wasn’t ready but one look at his expression, the tight set of
his shoulders and she knew he’d see through any delaying tactic she
tried.

“I wanted to
thank you.” Her voice was soft as he escorted her from the
restaurant, the large hand he placed in the small of her back
playing havoc with her senses. Why, of all the men in the world did
she have to react to him like this? She didn’t even like him.

No, that was
the problem, the little voice in her head sneered, you
do
like him. You like him too much, despite the fact he’s a rat who’s
going to make you sleep with him!

“For what?” He
glanced down as he steered her toward the lift. She stiffened for a
moment, her eyes flitting toward the front lobby. She’d assumed
they’d be getting a cab to his place, which meant she’d have a
little more time to compose herself.

“I thought we
were… I mean I assumed we were going back to your apartment?” she
asked as they stepped into the lift, the doors closing and
cocooning them in the small space. Their own private world.

His eyes locked
with hers and in an instant the temperature in the lift rose, the
tension between them thickening until she had trouble drawing a
breath.

“We are. I own
the hotel. I have an apartment right here.” His lips quirked, a
lopsided half-smile that did things to her insides that should be
illegal.

“How else do
you think I got a table at such short notice?” He moved closer to
tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So, what did you want
to thank me for?”

“For helping
with the concert,” she gabbled, trying to subtly shift to the side
to give herself some breathing room. He followed, the gleam in his
eyes saying she wasn’t getting away that easily.

“Since your
team started helping, things have moved so quickly it’s amazing!”
She shook her head, still astounded. As soon as she’d made that
call, the one agreeing to his insane proposition, JJ had been as
good as his word. His team had arrived the next day, taking up the
slack and freeing Zette up for the myriad of other vital tasks she
needed to do. So far they’d managed to achieve more in two days
than she had in two weeks. All she’d had to do was say what she
needed, they went away and voila, it was done.

The lift door
pinged their arrival and slid open. Zette slipped past him into the
dubious safety of the corridor. It was a temporary reprieve and she
knew it but when he got close, crowded her like that, she couldn’t
think. Her brain functions all ceased in favour of
anticipation.

She drew a
ragged breath as he sauntered out of the lift, an amused look in
his eye. Damn it, he knew what effect he had on her, knew she went
to pieces when he touched her. Judging by the look on his face he
was highly amused by the fact as well.

“No thanks
necessary. We had a deal.” His palm splayed over the back of her
hips again as they stopped outside a door. She bit her lip,
suppressing a shiver at his touch. His breath stirred the loose
strands of hair at her nape as he leaned down to swipe his key
card, his tone silky. “I help you with the concert, I get you in my
bed. Remember?”

Zette flushed,
shame rising hot and unsettling, making her stomach churn. Anger
followed on its heels. Why had he had to remind her? She was trying
to pretend, however unlikely considering how they felt about each
other, that they were an ordinary couple out on a date. But instead
he’d had to remind her what it was really all about. He was paying
her for her ‘services,’ just not in money like an ordinary
hooker.

She snorted to
herself. Well, if she was expected to play the hooker, then she
didn’t have to pretend any feelings for him did she? Other than
contempt.

“I’m here,
aren’t I? What more do you want?” She pushed through the door as
soon as it opened and into the room beyond. It slammed shut behind
her, the loud bang making her wince.

Hard hands
dropped onto her shoulders, spinning her around. A gasp escaped her
as he pushed her back against the door, his body pressing hard
against her. The look on his face hard, anger flashing in his
eyes.

“What more do I
want? You
know
what I want!”

His lips
crashed down to claim hers, plundering and demanding. His larger
body, all masculine lines and hard planes, surged against her.
Pressing her against the door, her breasts flattened against the
broad plains of his chest.

As soon as his
lips touched hers her anger shifted, found an alternative outlet.
He’d forced this, forced her into this situation but she refused to
let him make her a victim. She’d use him as much as he was using
her. Use this as a way to exorcise him and the weird hold he seemed
to hold over her for good.

She met him
kiss for kiss; hot, open mouthed kisses that drove the flames
between them higher.

His hand slid
into her hair, scattering the pins as he pulled her head back. His
lips blazed a trail of fire down her throat. Cheeks burning, she
moaned and wriggled to get closer, revelled in the feel of that
deliciously male body pressed into hers.

His hand
reached down, pulling her thigh over his hip. It splayed over the
back of her thigh, smoothing over her bare skin under the skirt.
She gasped as he shifted, pressing closer, feeling his arousal
through his pants. A hard promise pressed right where she needed it
most. Her pussy clenched hard at the thought of him filling her,
taking her. Even here against the door, she didn’t care.

Her fingers bit
into his shirt-covered shoulders as he pushed her skirt higher. His
breath was hot on her neck as he toyed with the lace edges of her
underwear. Tracing the edges with his fingertips until Zette nearly
melted, groaning with anticipation and frustration. So near and yet
so far. She needed him to touch her, to realise the promise he was
making with those soft touches.

He chuckled,
his lips nuzzling under her ear as she rocked her hips, seeking
more. “Oh, you like that, do you? What else do you like? This…”

His fingers
swept under the lace, right into her slick heat. She gasped, a
small cry on her lips as he stroked over her folds, parting them
and finding her clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh yeah, you
like that,” he murmured as his fingers moved against her, stroking
again. Pleasure spiralled through her, robbing her of the ability
to speak. “Let’s up the ante, shall we?”

He moved, just
slightly, and slowly slid a broad, blunt-ended finger into her. Her
knees buckled as she felt him slide into her, then pull back. In
and out, then circling her own slick heat over her clit until she
was almost out of her mind with pleasure.

“Oh God…that
feels fantastic.”

She felt,
rather than heard his chuckle. “It’s about to get a whole lot
better sweetheart,” he promised as he moved, shifting her in his
arms. Her eyes widened as she felt the broad head of his cock
pressing at her slick entrance.

He didn’t give
her time to argue. A rush of wet heat flooded her body, bathing the
swollen head as he pushed forwards. She bit her lip, their mingled
groans of pleasure sounded in the quiet room, as he pushed into her
body, stretching her. He was a big guy. She wasn’t a waif by any
stretch of the imagination but she was delicate, so his lack of
speed despite the anger swirling between them said a lot about him.
She knew he’d never hurt her, not in this way.

“God, you’re
tight. And wet. I knew you’d be like this.” He slid into her more
with each thrust forwards, working into her body by small degrees.
Finally he was buried in her to the hilt, impaling her on his cock
against the door.

“Don’t stop,”
she ordered as he paused for a long moment, his hips flush against
hers. She could feel every pulse and twitch of his body buried
inside her. She needed more, far more.

His jaw was
tight with tension, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply. The
expression on his face was almost one of pain.

His eyes
snapped open at her words, holding hers with a bright, almost feral
look. Their hazel colour searing in clarity. “I don’t intend to,
sweetheart.”

He set up a
fast rhythm, his hips driving against hers. She urged him on, her
fingers working on his shirt buttons. Trying to get them open so
she could touch him and run her hands over the hard muscles she
could feel under the expensive cotton.

With a growl of
frustration she gave up trying to feed the fiddly little things
through the holes and just tore it open. Buttons pinged, scattered
over the carpet at their feet. She ran her hands over him with a
sigh, pushing the shirt back to indulge her needs.

He chuckled
against her neck, not slowing the movements of his hips. “Feisty
little thing, aren’t you?” She raked her nails across his back for
an answer, gasping as his cock pulsed inside her.

“You have no
idea,” she murmured, giving him a hot look.

Where the
attitude had come from she had no idea. But it worked. Something
she could hide behind; a woman of the world. She could have sex and
damn well enjoy it if she wanted to, none of this ‘nice girls
didn’t’ nonsense.

She closed her
eyes, leaning back against the door as he drove harder into her,
his movements shorter and more powerful as his need drove him. His
thrusts were easier now, as her slick excitement coated his shaft.
A moan passed her lips as he thrust again, stopping deep inside her
to rotate his hips. The head of his cock pressing inside her in
ways that made her eyes roll back in her head.

She ground her
hips against his, needing more as the tension in her belly spread
out. Her whole body tightened in anticipation, her clit aching as
he drove her nearer and nearer to her climax.

“That’s it, let
it go babe,” he murmured in a soft voice, kissing along her neck.
His lips hit the spot behind her ear and she nearly did, a shudder
running down her spine. “Come for me Zette. I want to feel you come
all over my cock.”

That did it.
His voice, the crude words whispered so softly, his hard cock
driving into her soft depths. She shuddered again, her body
tightening to breaking point and then beyond. She cried out, his
name on her lips as she shattered apart in his arms. Coming harder
than she could recall before.

She was
beautiful. There was no other word for it. JJ lay on his side, the
early morning sun creeping around the edges of the long drapes at
the windows as he studied the woman lying next to him.

Her hair was
fanned out on the pillow around her, its rich darkness a marked
contrast to the white bedding beneath. A tumbled mass of silken
curls he ached to touch, remembering the feel of it against his
skin through the night.

He gave into
temptation, reaching out to wind a dark strand around his finger.
His hazel eyes were unguarded for once. Thoughtful. JJ was not a
man who relaxed around others. He’d learned that lesson early on in
life.

They’d made
love three times in the night. He paused, stopping his train of
thoughts in its tracks. Sex. It was just sex. Admittedly it was
damn good sex but it was just sex all the same. JJ didn’t do
anything else. Talk about ‘making love’ and women got the wrong
idea. Hell, even thinking that way was dangerous. Before you knew
it they were looking at bridal magazines and talking about seating
plans.

But that was
the point wasn’t it? He needed to get married to circumvent the
clause in his grandfather’s will. And he wanted Zette, no one else
would do. So what did it matter if he let her start thinking that
way…

He shook
himself. No, it still didn’t mean they needed to be bandying the
‘L’ word around too much. It was a marriage of convenience, his
convenience. Zette didn’t need to know that though. A brief pang of
guilt speared through his chest, his eyes following the soft curve
of her cheek and the flutter of her eyelashes as she slept. Quickly
he shrugged it off.