Sweet Victory: A Novella (His Wicked Games #2.5) (7 page)

I’m not sure how long I sit there, gazing up at the sky and losing myself in my worries. I don’t even hear the glass door sliding open behind me, and it’s not until Calder places a warm hand on my shoulder that I realize I’m no longer alone.

He sits down just behind me, his chest against my back and his legs through the openings in the rail on either side of mine. His arms loop around my waist and he pulls me back against him, and for a long moment neither of us speaks.

“She’s in the guest bedroom,” he says. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this. She’s so—well, she’s been through a lot.”

I want to remind him that he’s been through a lot as well, that he doesn’t have to make excuses for her, but I know it’s not my place. She’s his sister, whether I like it or not, and family trumps girlfriend. Why, the more I think about it, the more I realize how many similarities there are between this situation and the one with Calder and my dad. It doesn’t matter how gentlemanly Calder behaves, or how many times he volunteers at the Center—my dad still has a tendency to blow hot and cold at him. But Calder’s never complained. He’s never questioned my dad’s behavior, nor spoken a negative word against him at all. He respects that familial bond and my love for my dad too much.

If I can’t offer him the same respect in return, then maybe I
don’t
deserve him.

“You did the right thing,” I tell him, though the words sound false on my tongue. “Do you think she’s really in trouble?”

“Louisa’s a handful,” he says. “She’s always been. But she has a gift for getting herself out of any scrapes she finds herself in.”

It’s difficult, after meeting her, to reconcile the real Lou with the one I’ve always imagined. Since Calder never really talked about her, I always pictured her as the girl they portrayed in the media: overly sweet and dedicated to her philanthropy.
So dedicated that she chose to help people on the other side of the world over helping her brother
. But I need to stop thinking like that. For better or for worse, she’s still Calder’s sister.

I want to ask him if she said anything about our relationship, if she gave voice to the doubts he’s been feeling, but I don’t want to sound insecure. I need to trust him.

“Is she… back for good?” I ask.

Calder sighs. “I don’t know. We have a lot to catch up on.” He strokes my inner arm with his thumb. “She’s just… she can be reckless. But she’s my sister, you know? She’s the only family I have.”

The only family
. I’m not sure why his words hit me so hard, but my stomach twists.

“I feel like this is a second chance for Louisa and me,” he says. “We’ve… we’ve drifted, these past few years. But we need each other now, more than ever.”

I try not to think about what her continued presence in our lives might mean. She’s no longer supported by her family’s money—is Calder going to have to help support her until she finds a job on this side of the world? Calder seems to suggest this isn’t completely abnormal behavior for her—does that mean this will become a regular thing, her causing trouble and showing up in the middle of the night?

Almost as soon as I think such thoughts, the shame hits. Who am I to brush off part of Calder’s life because of a little inconvenience? I love Calder, and that means all of him. Crazy sister included. I might find this situation far from ideal, but it’s not about me. It’s about Calder, too. About us. I will push my selfish fears aside and accept the bad with the good.

I tilt my head back and nestle it under his chin. I can feel his heartbeat against my back. My hands find his in the darkness. He feels so steady, so solid, that I find my worries flitting away.

And then, in spite of everything, I laugh.

I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. For someone who claims to love games—the playful back-and-forth, the rush of suspense, the unpredictability—I don’t take surprises very well, do I?

My sudden outburst seems to shock Calder for a minute, and then he’s laughing, too. It’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard.

“You know,” he murmurs in my ear, “Louisa’s gone to bed. Our game doesn’t have to be over yet.”

“I hope not,” I whisper in return. I wiggle my butt against his crotch. His body is already starting to respond, and hope flutters in my chest. Who says tonight can’t still be something special?

“I’ve thought of another challenge,” I say.

“Mm?” he responds, nuzzling my neck.

“Make me come in three minutes or less.”

He chuckles and slides his hand between my legs.

“With pleasure.”

An hour later, I’m no closer to identifying my gift. I am, however, as exhausted and physically satisfied as I could ever hope to be.

“Are you sure you’re human?” I ask Calder breathlessly. We’ve moved back inside and are now splayed across the mattress. “I didn’t know it was possible for a mere mortal to have that much stamina.”

He chuckles and twists my nipple slowly between his thumb and forefinger. “You should know better than that by now.”

I do. I’ve never doubted that he is a bona fide master of sex.

I let my hand drift across his chest and lazily run my finger through his thin scattering of chest hair. He lets out a contented sigh and pulls me close. The weirdness from earlier seems to be gone—but I detect a little tension in his forehead and around his eyes. It’s not every day that an estranged family member shows up on the doorstep, and for all his determination to mend things between himself and his sister, this will be hard on him.

But I hope, for my part, that I’ve set some of his worries about us to rest. That by holding him close and twisting my body around his and breathing his name into the dark I’ve managed to convince him that this, right here, is perfect just as it is. Warts and all. If there is any stress in his life, I don’t want to be the cause of it.

And continuing our game is one way I can chase the last of those troubles away, at least for tonight.

“Don’t you think it’s time to take pity on me and just let me have my present?” I ask, running my hand down across his abs.

“Hm, that’s a good question.” He caresses my lower back. “I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I enjoy watching you squirm too much.”

I grasp his nipple and give it a twist. He jerks, laughing.

“Go on then,” he says. “Name another challenge. I suggest you pick one you might actually win this time.”

I push myself up on my elbow. “You just think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

His mouth quirks. “A little smooth.”

“Cocky bastard.” I give his nipple another twist before sitting all the way up. “I, for one, think it’s time for a shower. What do you say?”

His smile broadens into a devilish grin. “I think that’s a very nice idea.”

“Good.” I climb to my feet. “Then I have my next challenge. The first one to find some shampoo in that minefield out there is the winner.”

His eyes flash. “You just want another chance to scrounge around for your present.”

“Maybe.” I reach down and pull on my shorts. “Bonus points to whoever finds the towels.” I grab my tank top from the floor. “And you’re already behind.”

He scrambles for his own clothes as I skip back into the living room. Quickly—but quietly, so I don’t wake Lou—I began sifting through the boxes and bags, looking for anything that might resemble a gift. If I stumble across the shampoo, then all the better.

I’m on my third box by the time Calder joins me. I brace myself, expecting him to grab me from behind, but he heads for the boxes on the other side of the room.

Scratch that—he
beelines
for them. Either he knows exactly where the shampoo is, or he’s trying to keep me from finding the gift.

I abandon the box of knick-knacks I’m currently searching and make my way across the room to where he’s pawing through a large gray suitcase. It’s one of his, and though it appears to contain mostly cloth
es, I dive right into the other side.

“Cheater,” he whispers, nudging me with his elbow.

I stick my tongue out at him and keep searching. I don’t see anything that might be a present, but I do spot a plastic bag with a bunch of toiletries inside.

Unfortunately, so does Calder. We both lunge for the bag at the same time, fingers scrabbling for the shampoo bottle.

“I saw it first,” I say, trying to pry it out of his hand.

“Liar.” He tugs on the other end of the bottle and nudges me in the side again.

With my free hand, I reach under his arm and try to tickle him, but it’s a difficult angle and he twists easily away.

“Nice try.” He gives the bottle a particularly hard tug, almost ripping it out of my hand, but I manage to hold on.

He’s right next to me, his shoulder pressed against mine. I try to push him away with my elbow, but he’s too strong. He doesn’t even wobble.

Which means I only have one tool left at my disposal.

I lean closer to him, turning my head so that my mouth is right by his neck. I open my lips, extend my tongue, and slip it inside of his ear.

Calder jumps about a foot. A strangled sound of surprise escapes from his throat, and his fingers slip on the shampoo bottle. A quick jerk of my hand and the prize is mine.

“Well, look at that,” I say, waving the shampoo bottle back and forth. “I won.”

He growls and grabs me. I let out a squeal as he picks me up, and I can only hope that Lou’s a very sound sleeper.

“Do you know what happens to cheaters?” Calder’s voice is a rumble in my ear. “They get punished for their indiscretions.”

The promise in his words sends a shiver down my spine. He carries me into the bathroom, setting me down only so that he can flick on the shower.

“Dirty little cheaters need a thorough washing,” he says, tugging my tank top over my head. My shorts go next. I lost the lingerie somewhere during our last little game, so now I’m completely naked. Not that that’s anything new for me.

“I think, since we live together now, we should institute a no-clothes policy while we’re at home,” I say. “It would make things exponentially easier for us.”

“Naughty little tease,” he says, pulling me hard against his hips. “You realize if we had it your way, we’d never get anything else done?”

“And what’s the problem with that?” I start undressing him.

“We’d probably starve to death.”

“That’s why they invented delivery.”

“And we’d never get any sleep. We’d be exhausted all the time.”

“We can sleep when we’re dead.”

“I’d probably forget to go to work.”

“I have plenty of work for you here.”

“Money?”

“We could film ourselves and sell the videos over the internet.”

“Mm,” he says, sliding his hands over my ass. “You seem to have all of this planned.”

“I’m very, very thorough in my planning.”

“I see. I’m liking this more and more.” One of his hands moves lower, his fingers slipping between my thighs from behind. “We might have to make an exception for company, though. We might scare them off if we appear at the door completely naked.”

His comment is, intentionally or not, a call back to reality—a reminder that Lou, currently holed up in our guest bedroom, didn’t seem the least bit put off by our state of undress when she barged in. I fight down the flicker of resentment in my chest. I have no right to be bitter or annoyed by her presence here. If my dad showed up at the door needing help, I’d have welcomed him in without question—and Calder would have as well.

But I don’t want to think about Lou right now—not with this stunning specimen of a man currently undressing in front of me. Why modeling agents aren’t perpetually knocking down our door with contracts, I’ll never know. I can see him on the magazine cover now: his gorgeous body stretched out on some white sand beach, every hard muscle exposed to the camera lens… well, except
that
muscle, of course, which is for me and me alone. They’ll have to cover it tastefully with a towel or something.

“Oh!” I say, suddenly remembering. “We forgot towels.”

“Who needs towels?” Calder, fully nude once more, pulls me up against him. “I can dry you off. Not that I mind you wet…”

It’s a very tempting offer, but I haven’t completely lost all rational thought just yet.

“Why don’t you go ahead and hop in the shower,” I say. “I’ll be right back.” I pull his head down and give him a kiss that makes it very clear what I plan to do with him when I return, and then I head back to the living room.

I’m pretty sure I stuffed my towels in a garbage bag when I was packing; it’s just a matter of finding the right one. I spot a couple of bags on the other side of the room, so I head there first. They’re right next to the guestroom door, so I’m extra careful to be quiet as I sift through the crinkling plastic.

It takes three bags to find the towels, but I’m finally rewarded by the brush of terrycloth beneath my fingers. The towels are wedged deep beneath a down comforter, and I silently curse my poor packing skills as I dump everything on the floor. I’m just grabbing the towels when I hear it.