Kiera sighed, swapping her grocery bags to her other hand to fish her cell phone from her pocket once again. Nothing. Not one single text from Vincent, which probably meant he was either out drinking or at home dabbling in drugs again.
She wished that thought didn’t come so naturally, so casually to her, but having spent the past six months desperately trying to drag Vincent out of his downward spiral, she’d come to expect the worst from him.
I don’t know why I’ve even bothered, she thought, stuffing the phone back in her pocket to distribute the grocery bags evenly between her hands again. She’d splurged on New York strip steaks and champagne, as well as some fresh veggies and mashed potatoes, to celebrate what should have been a monumental evening for them both.
Kiera had good news. No, better than that—she had great news.
Too bad Vincent was too busy getting high to care about it.
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She’d planned on surprising him when she got home from the store. She’d wanted to see the look on his face when she told him that she, a lowly graduate fresh out of college, had landed a job at Broadrunner, Inc., one of the largest telecommunications companies in the nation. And not just any job, either. She’d been hired as the personal assistant to none other than Camden Blake himself, a position that any girl in the country with half a brain would have killed for.
It wasn’t just that a job like that paid well, enough to cover her student loans in just a year or two. Another reason the job was so alluring was Camden himself, and now that she’d met him in person, she could finally see why.
He was the spitting image of tall, dark, and handsome, with rich, mahogany hair and burnt jade eyes that glimmered when he smiled. But he never really smiled—it was more of a smirk, almost an, “I-know-something-you-don’t-know” mockery of a smile. When he grinned, it was more like a wolf baring its teeth. There was something dangerous about him, something fascinatingly devious, but Kiera couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
After all, she’d only just been interviewed by him earlier that afternoon. He’d hired her on the spot. It was going to be a while before she could fully peg him, especially since she got the distinct impression that a man like that eluded explanation for as long as he could.
She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind. She shouldn’t have been thinking about Camden. She should have been thinking about Vincent and the trouble he was into. That was the real world, something she’d have to deal with in just a few more minutes as she made the long walk to their apartment from the grocery store.
Part of her felt bad about being so angry with him. She’d seen him at his best, back when they were still in high school and flirting with the idea of forever. They’d been kids back then, hardly equipped to understand the meaning behind a long-term relationship, and yet they’d dove right into one anyway, securing their very own apartment and turning it into a veritable love nest.
Those memories were warm and hazy, like the way Vincent used to make her feel after they’d made love. There was safety in the images of him standing at their outdated stove, the aroma of bacon rousing her from her orgasm-induced slumber and his cocky grin driving her into another fit of lust. She’d never forget those nights they stayed up talking about philosophy, reality TV, and anything and everything in between. She’d always look back on those memories of their first few years together and smile.
But that was all they were now—memories. Things hadn’t been good between them for a while. In fact, Kiera realized, she couldn’t recall the last time they’d made love.
To each other, anyway, she thought bitterly, fighting the rising tide of disgust burgeoning in her throat. God knows what Vince does these days, and with who. Hell, if he did cheat on me, he’d probably be too high to remember…
That was exactly what had caused the rift between them. Everyone experimented with drugs in college—well, most people, anyway—but they never really hit the hard stuff. Kiera herself had smoked a little weed and tried cocaine once before she smartened up, but Vincent had become enamored with pills. He’d popped a few Mollies just for fun, then some Adderall to help him study, then some Oxy to relax, and then he started swallowing them every day, eager to escape the “banality of the real world,” as he put it.
In Vincent’s mind, he was a beat poet, a rock star, an existentialist. In Kiera’s eyes, and everyone else’s, he was a druggie who refused to admit he had a problem.
But she didn’t have to deal with that right now. Right now, she had a mini-vacation away from Vincent’s problems. Right now, she didn’t have to be his hero and savior. She could just walk home and pretend that anything she did for him mattered in the slightest.
She took a deep breath, focusing on all the wonderful memories they had made together as she put one foot in front of the other and ignored the rumbling of thunder overhead.
This was going to change everything for them. She just knew it. This job was exactly what they needed to break free of all the debt they’d accrued since college. In just a few months, their lives would be back on track. But would Vincent accept that? Would he understand that moving forward meant he’d have to grow up, give up the drinking and drugs, and act like he actually wanted to be in this relationship?
Kiera stopped at the crosswalk, pressed the button for the light, and waited while it changed. The storm clouds above were gathering in force now, blotting out the setting sun and casting the streets in eerie green. She shuddered as a cool breeze nipped at her nape. Then the light changed, urging her forward to the other side of the street where her apartment lay.
But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t take one step. Despite her mind’s urging, her feet remained in place and her hands continued to clutch at the grocery bags, grasping them so tightly now that the sheer force whitened her knuckles.
I can’t do this, she thought, her stomach turning at the thought of facing another evening wondering where the fuck Vincent was or what he was on. I can’t…
The snarl of an engine drowned out her thoughts, and Kiera turned, staring at the pitch black motorcycle that had pulled up to the curb next to her.
It was little wonder she hadn’t seen it sooner. It blended in with the ebony asphalt and the darkening clouds hanging low above her. It was so black it barely even reflected the light glimmering from across the street, the one telling her it was now safe to cross.
The driver looked at her—or at least, she thought he did. It was hard to tell exactly what he was doing under his helmet and visor. That, too, was black, rendering the man who lay beyond it a mystery to her.
What’s he doing? she wondered. Is he waiting for me to cross?
She sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case. She still wasn’t sure if she could.
She made a gesture to tell the man it was okay for him to turn, but he remained at the curb, staring at her from behind his helmet. When he spoke, she almost mistook his voice for the low growl of thunder.
“Wh-what?” Kiera asked him, blinking uncertainly.
“Get on,” the man insisted.
Kiera’s gaze darted around her. There were no other cars on the road right now, no police in sight, and even with all the gear he was wearing obscuring her view, the man on the bike looked well-built. Kiera was scrappy, sure, but she wasn’t a match for a man his size. The best she could hope for was that she’d outrun him.
But that wasn’t likely, given his mode of transportation. His Ducati could follow her up onto the sidewalks, run her down wherever she ran, and there was no one around to witness it if he abducted her.
Her heart began to race. She swallowed against the stiff lump in her throat.
“You can’t go home,” he interrupted her. “It’s not safe. You have to come with me. Get on the bike, Kiera. Please.”
She shifted uncomfortably, narrowing her eyes. “How do you know my name?”
The man sighed. He grabbed his helmet between his leather gloved hands and lifted it away, revealing a handsome face she’d seen just earlier that day.
It was Camden Blake.
“We don’t have time for exposition,” he snapped, “but I’ll tell you this: your boyfriend is in deep shit, Kiera. He didn’t pay for all those… recreational activities he’s been engaged in lately, and the men he owes money to are currently at your house waiting for you to come home.”
“Me?” she breathed. Her heart was now beating so fast she could hear it in her ears. “Why me?”
Camden didn’t answer right away. His green eyes flicked over her solemnly and he took a deep breath, then let it out through his nose.
“Leverage,” he said at last. “Against Vincent.”
She let those words ring through her for a moment. Leverage. This was bad. Very bad. The worst of it was the feeling that even if they did try to use her to get Vincent to pay up, he might not be willing to make enough sacrifices to save her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure of anything with him anymore.
But she was even less sure of Camden and his intentions. How did he know about Vincent’s drug problems? Why had he shown up at the last second to save her? She knew she should be grateful, but she had more questions than answers for the billionaire CEO she’d met only a few hours ago.
Like why the hell did he care, for instance.
His story made sense, though. Vincent was in deep with the wrong people. She’d known that for a while now. And if that was why he wasn’t answering his phone…
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“Get on,” Camden said again, and this time, despite all her misgivings, Kiera didn’t hesitate. She dropped her groceries and slung her leg over the bike behind him, tentatively clutching at his jacket as he revved his engine.
Camden chuckled as he put his helmet back on. “You’re going to have to do better than that.” Then he grabbed her hands, forced her arms around his waist, and pulled away from the curb and back toward the downtown area.
Kiera felt heat rise in her cheeks despite the cool wind slapping her face. She ducked down behind Camden’s broad shoulders, pressing herself into the coolness of his leather jacket. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself, but soon found herself overwhelmed by the scents he carried on him. There was leather, of course, but oil too, and a certain masculine scent that she could only describe as raw power.
She shifted behind him, trying not to dwell too long on how good it felt to hold his rigid, musclebound body in her arms. It wasn’t right—not when Vincent was in such trouble.
But who put him there? she asked herself, already knowing the answer. This is nobody’s fault but his own. You warned him. You tried to get him help. You tried so hard to…
And suddenly it wasn’t just the wind stinging her eyes, but unbidden tears too, hot and full of regret and rage. Panic welled up inside her, and she fought to keep her fear at bay as the magnitude of what was happening began to really sink in.
Vincent might be hurt. Or dead. And the people who had him might very well intend to inflict the same fate on her. But how did Camden Blake fit into all this? She was his employee now, sure, but other than that, she hardly knew him from Adam.
“Where are we going?” she asked over the roar of the engine.
“My place,” he answered, turning his head just enough so that the side of his helmet grazed her forehead. “It’s safe there.”
Kiera sighed and held on tighter. For now, she’d have to trust him. At this point, she had no other choice.
The luster of downtown eventually faded, giving way to a long stretch of highway that led into the woods. At a private drive, Camden made an abrupt turn, churning up dirt from the path as he snaked his way toward an iron gate. He never stopped the bike. The guard at the gate saw him coming and opened up, allowing them access to the large, sprawling estate beyond.
“Jesus,” she breathed, staring at the house. The damn thing had wings. She’d never seen a building with those that wasn’t a castle.
Camden avoided the circular drive leading to the front door and opted for another path, one that sloped downward into a private garage. As soon as they entered, Kiera found herself surrounded by all manner of motorcycles, from Ducatis similar to the kind he was driving now to rougher, tougher Harleys lurking in the shadows like big, angry bulls. There were a few classic cars strewn throughout the spaces too—in particular, Kiera noticed a Shelby ‘69—but they were few and far between compared to the bikes.
“Weekend warrior?” she asked him as he pulled into a space and killed the engine.
“Sure,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. Then he removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair, fixing the dark, immaculate locks. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
Kiera followed him as he stopped at a walk-in closet built into the garage wall and watched as he hung up his jacket and helmet. Then, to her surprise, he stripped off his shirt, tossing it into a hamper and shoving his gloves into a cubby.
She stared at his tattoos, at the elaborate knotwork of Celtic serpents entangled over his shoulder blade. The muscles beneath them worked as he walked, making it seem like the tattoos were moving, undulating in time with his steps.
What kind of CEO has tattoos like that? she thought. Or muscles, for that matter?
As he turned to open the door to a set of stairs, Kiera saw it wasn’t just his back that was imbued with the kind of strength that evaded most businessmen. Camden’s stomach was riddled with a sold eight-pack of hard, bulging abs flanked by deep-set Adonis lines. She found herself wondering just what lay between those lines, what wonders she might find beneath the waistband of his pants, but then bit her lip hard to quell those thoughts once again.
You’re just impressed because he might have saved you from those thugs. Maybe you haven’t gotten any in a while, but that doesn’t mean you can go fantasizing about every man who looks your way.
That was true. It had been months since Kiera and Vincent had been intimate, and that certainly hadn’t been her choice. Vincent had been responsible for the divide between them, and Kiera was forced to pay the price. If it wasn’t an argument driving them apart, it was his absence, or the fact that he was often too high to do anything other than lie back and pontificate about the hidden complexities of the universe. As a result, Kiera had been missing the intimacy and human connection that sex could bring, and perhaps that was why she couldn’t take her eyes off of Camden Blake now.
But what girl in her right mind could have? Even objectively speaking, the man was practically a god, and one who had saved her from a dark fate. Shouldn’t she thank him somehow?
No. That wasn’t fair to Vincent, and Kiera immediately felt guilty for thinking of it. He could be enduring unspeakable torment at this very moment, and here she was imagining her new boss with his clothes off. Despite all the hell he was putting her through, surely her high school sweetheart deserved better than that.
“Thanks,” she murmured as Camden held the door, allowing her to walk up the stairs first and into the mudroom, where he discarded his boots before leading her into the living room of his estate.
It was, as she had expected from the outside, huge. The floor-to-ceiling windows would have allowed the perfect view of the setting sun through the trees, on any other night, but as it was, Kiera could only see the rain beginning to pelt the topiaries on the lawn. There were a series of plush violet sofas with tufted cushions assembled near a roaring fireplace with a flat screen mounted above it, and Kiera thought she saw a PS4 on the mantle, but Camden didn’t stop to let her look around. He was already ushering her up another flight of stairs before she could really take in the extravagance of the room.
“This way,” he told her. “You shouldn’t be too close to the door, or where there are too many windows, for that matter. You can stay in my study.”
Kiera blinked. “I didn’t think people had those anymore.”
Camden smirked. “Well, then I’m happy to have surprised you,” he said, mounting the stairs once more. She followed, trying to ignore the warmth that his half-smile had conjured in her heart.
“I know this is strange,” he continued as he led her down a long hall. “We’ve only just met. But I couldn’t stand by and let you pay for the mistakes your fiancé made.”
“He’s not my fiancé,” she corrected him. Then she frowned. “And how exactly did you know about all this? Before today, you didn’t even know my name besides when you saw it on my résumé.”
Camden hesitated then. Though he kept moving, Kiera detected a rigidity in his gait. His muscles coiled, making the serpents on his back tense and writhe. The air around them seemed to become heavier.
“A man like me has certain… connections,” he said at length, though it wasn’t a particularly satisfying answering. Still, it seemed like the only one he was willing to give, and at this point, Kiera thought it best not to press on with too many questions. She could save the interrogation for later.
When he opened the door to the study, Kiera’s jaw nearly dropped. She’d expected a small space with a fold-out sofa bed, a desk, and some books. She hadn’t expected what amounted to a veritable library lining the walls of an opulent office suite.
The bed at the far end of the room was an actual bed, complete with a Rococo-style headboard and footboard carved from flawless, gleaming mahogany. The sheets were red and silken, and when she brushed her fingers over them, she realized that sleeping here would be like sleeping on a cloud. Even the mattress was deliciously soft, though still firm enough to support her body, and the pillows were memory foam as well. Despite the circumstances, Kiera was about to get the best sleep of her life.
“I… thank you,” she said, turning to look up into Camden’s verdant eyes. “Really. This means a lot. But… what do we do about Vincent? How do we fix whatever’s happened with him? I don’t have the money to pay them. I mean, I would have, if I’d started working for you before they got to him, but right now, I…”
Camden smiled. He held up his hand. “We can talk about that in the morning,” he assured her. “Right now, you should get some rest.”
“It’s a little early,” she protested. “And honestly, I’d rather talk about it now than lie awake all night wondering what the hell is going on. These guys who have Vincent—how dangerous are they? Do you think they’ll come after me here? What do you think they’ve done to him since I haven’t come home? How—”
“Kiera,” he said, reaching over and placing his strong, coarse hands on her shoulders. “We’ll talk in the morning. I have things I need to do, and I can’t do them with you constantly looking over my shoulder and asking questions about your boyfriend.”
She wanted to protest, but she shut her mouth instead, clenching her jaw tightly. She didn’t appreciate being treated like a child, especially when her life was at stake.
But there was something about the way he touched her that not only commanded a sense of authority, but sent little jolts of electricity surging through her body. As his thumbs brushed either side of her collar bone, she felt her nipples stiffen against the cups of her bra.
“Fine,” she muttered, stepping away and folding her arms so he couldn’t see. She eyed the bed. “Why do you have a bed in here, anyway?”
Camden shrugged. “When you live like I do, you can’t always get away from your work. I eat with it. I breathe it.” He smiled. “These days, I even sleep with it.”
Kiera’s eyes roamed his body before she could stop them. Is that all you sleep with? she wondered.
He turned away from her, walking back toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Bathroom’s the third door on the right, if you need it.”
“Thanks,” she said, watching him retreat. Heat prickled her cheeks as she realized her gaze was settled closer to his ass than it was any other part of him.
I need to get this out of my system, she thought, gingerly fingering the pendant Vincent had given her on their third anniversary. He’d bought it with money he’d earned from the part-time job he took fresh out of high school, and she’d always seen it as a symbol of his devotion, especially now that he rarely took the time to show her any now.
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Not rarely, she mentally corrected herself. Never. He never shows you that he cares. When was the last time he said “I love you?”
She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over, turning off the tall lamp beside her. She thought of how Camden had come to her rescue without her even calling him, how he’d gone out of his way to make sure she was safe.
He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to do any of this. But he wanted to, and that was a lot more than she could say for Vincent right now.
She lay down on her back and let the sumptuous mattress cradle her form as she kicked off her shoes. Vincent was in trouble, and yet all she could think about was the mysterious billionaire down the hall.
It’s just because I haven’t been laid in like, forever, she reasoned, lifting off her shirt next. Her body trembled as she unhooked her bra. I just need to indulge myself. Then I can focus on what really matters.
She tossed her bra onto the floor with her shirt, then wriggled out of her skinny jeans, taking her panties with them. She drew the covers up to her neck, shivering as she slid her hand down the center of her body, feeling the swells of her breasts rising and falling beside her palm as she inched it down toward the bare mound between her quivering thighs.
She arched a little as her fingers swept across her wet, warm lips. They opened to receive her touch, and Kiera bit her lip as she brushed one over her clit, reveling in the pleasurable pulse that followed.
Her toes curled as she dove in again, working her fingers along the tender nub she’d neglected for far too long. She was so wet that she was sure she was dripping onto the bed, but she couldn’t think about that now. All she could do was close her eyes and think about Camden Blake’s hard physique, his rippling abs, and the delicious package that must lay below them.
She moaned softly, lifting her hips to press tighter against her hand, and opened her legs a little more to fully expose her slit. Her breath came shorter and heavier as she wound her free hand around one of her breasts, her thumb lightly teasing her pert nipple, grazing along the fullness of the bud to send more tremors of ecstasy straight into her pussy.
“Fuck,” she breathed, tilting her head back as she imagined Camden straddling her chest, the weight of him bearing down on her as he stroked his cock against her lips. She could practically hear the sound of his hand gliding over his hard flesh, tugging at the swollen cock that would soon plunge inside of her. She imagined his balls swinging gently with each pass, lightly grazing her chin as she opened her mouth to receive his tip and swirl her tongue around it.
She imagined that scent again—leather, oil, and power. It filled her nostrils and lungs, and soon she could feel the dam of her orgasm spilling over, ready to break.
“Yes,” she murmured, lips burning as she spoke his name. “Camden…”
She heard a soft sigh and her eyes snapped open. She drew her hand away from herself like she’d been burned and sat up, staring wide-eyed into the darkness at the silhouette of Camden Blake himself.
“Oh my God,” she squeaked. “Oh, Jesus, I’m… I’m sorry. I was just…”
He was holding a little black book in his hands, probably a planner or a ledger, but his eyes were fixed solely on her. She watched, embarrassed and terrified as he set it down on a nearby shelf and stalked toward her, muscles blooming and wilting beneath his skin as he crawled onto the foot of her bed.
“M-Mr. Blake. I…” she began, but trailed off when she saw the glint in his eyes. Part of her wanted to tell him about Vincent, say she shouldn’t, couldn’t cheat on him, even when she was all but dead to him, it seemed.
But another, stronger part of her won out—the one that recognized the sheer strength and will of the man before her, a man who she knew would appreciate the gift between her legs that Vincent had spurned for so long.
“Fuck,” was all she said as he reached behind her, cradling her head in his hand. “Mr. Blake…”
And then he was upon her, his mouth crashing against hers, capturing her lips in a hot, violent kiss that stole the very breath from her lungs.
Kiera surged into him, her hands frantically roaming his body, trying to feel every inch of it all at once. She wound her fingers up through his hair, twisting and pulling at the dark locks, grasping fistfuls hard enough to make Camden groan. He pushed her down onto her back, smothering her with his kisses, with the weight of his hard, muscular body pressing her ever downward into the cool caress of the mattress. She gasped as he parted her legs with his knees and thrust his crotch against hers, letting her feel the pulsations of his manhood beneath his jeans. She was only too eager to remove them from his body and unleash his burden, to feel it hot and heavy against the crook of her thigh.
It was so big, and so very thick. As she peeled his tight boxer briefs from his body, she felt his dick prod into her leg, seeking out the tight, warm channel she’d already made wet for him. With his mouth now on her breast and his tongue twirling around her sensitive nipple, Kiera arched her body once more, driving Camden closer to her aching entrance.
He let his tip slide along her slit, coating himself in her silken lust and nudging her clit with his swollen tip. When she moaned, he bit her breast hard and dove into her with his cock, plunging up to the hilt inside her wanting pussy, filling her with every inch of his manhood even as she cried for more.
Kiera dug her nails into his back, pain and pleasure entwining as Camden lifted his head away from her breast and kissed her lips again, his breath coming hard and fast against her face as he panted through his nose with every stroke.
She had never been so fulfilled before, never felt passion and lust like this. Even when Vincent had been a better man, he had never made her feel like Camden Blake did. She wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible, and she wrapped him in her body, her limbs clinging to his powerful frame as he fucked her with every ounce of strength and desire he had.
She felt his dick pulse. Then it gave another throb, and she knew he was close. He held back for her, burying his face in her neck as he reached down to toy with her clit with his thumb.
“Cum for me,” he demanded of her, his voice a guttural snarl. Like every other order he had ever issued her, Kiera obeyed, crying out in surprise and bliss as Camden brought her to the pinnacle of passion and then launched her over.
She was falling into an abyss of rapture, flailing and bucking as her walls clamped down around his dick. She felt it shudder, then give way inside of her, jetting thick ropes of hot, salty cum into her depths, filling her once again in a way she’d never been before. Vincent had always been so cautious, but Camden was reckless, spurting his seed into her cunt without a second thought. Kiera was thankful she was on the pill, but realized in her lustful haze that she would have let him do it anyway, even if she wasn’t.
Not that he had asked permission, but that just made it all the more thrilling to her.
He held himself over her, his whole body shaking as he shot the last of his seed into her still pulsating cunt. Slowly, he pressed his forehead against hers, then his lips, and she shook around him, lost to the pleasure coursing through her every nerve.
“Mr. Blake,” she breathed as he pulled away. “I…”
But she didn’t know what to say, and as he sat up, she realized it was probably best if she didn’t say anything at all.
“I should… get back to work,” he muttered. He seemed distant now, as though trying to keep some kind of professional space between them even as his fingers grazed the soft flesh behind her knee. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Dazed, she only nodded at him. “Okay,” she said.
But as he pulled on his clothes and turned to leave, Kiera realized that he was forgetting something.
“Wait,” she began, standing to grab his little black book off the shelf. “Mr. Blake…”
But he was gone, already over the threshold and closing the door to his study behind him. Kiera sank back against her pillows, frowning as she looked over the ledger in her hands.
He might be back for it at any moment, but in the meantime, she could at least solve some of the mystery surrounding what was going on between Mr. Blake, Vincent, and the men who had allegedly been waiting for her to come home to use as “leverage” against her drug addict boyfriend. If Mr. Blake didn’t want to tell her what was going on, there was no real reason not to dig into the answers while she had them in her grasp.
After all, she still wasn’t sure she could completely trust him. He’d fucked her brains out, sure, but that could mean anything. A rich man like him was used to getting what he wanted, and she was sure the CEO of a big company like Broadrunner was accustomed to a little lying.
Perhaps her conscience was eating at her, too. Perhaps she wanted a reason to have strayed from her boyfriend in his hour of need. Perhaps she wanted to absolve herself of the guilt beginning to rise like smoke inside her belly. There were too many reasons to open the ledger and not enough reasons not to, and Kiera slowly peeked inside, flipping through the first few pages in the dark, her eyes straining to find something, anything that could give her a sense of what exactly was going on.
Maybe she could help Vincent herself. Maybe she could atone for the mistake she’d made with Mr. Blake.
But was it a mistake? Could passion like that really be manufactured?
She willed herself to stop thinking about it and to look for a solution instead. What she found only raised more questions.
Mr. Blake had been meeting with the Twisted Snakes, a well-known motorcycle club in the area. He seemed to meet with them pretty regularly. He was more than just a weekend warrior, then. There was some greater connection there. He might even be a member.
Kiera felt a pit open up in her stomach. Bikers are exactly the kind of guys who peddle drugs and enforce payment. What if Mr. Blake is involved in what’s happened to Vincent? What if I’ve been sleeping with the enemy?
She closed the book and quickly put it back on the shelf as she heard Mr. Blake’s footsteps approaching from down the hall. She turned her back to the door and pulled the sheets up to her chin, pretending to be asleep as he opened the door. She saw a shaft of light hit the wall in front of her, saw his shadow move slowly, quietly to the shelf, and heard him remove the book from it.
But then he lingered, and Kiera had to remind herself not to hold her breath. It was as if he was studying her, considering her.
Does he know?
If he suspected, Camden made no mention of it. He simply retreated form the room once again, leaving Kiera clutching her pillow and shivering despite the warmth of the covers.
Mr. Blake and what was happening to Vincent were connected somehow, and now here she was, lying in his bed. She realized suddenly that she might be fucked, and in more ways than one.