Misadventures in the Cage Read online

  “Touch yourself. I want to watch you pleasure yourself,” he told her, pushing his sweatpants down. “Watch me do the same.”

  When his cock sprang free, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. It was freaking massive. Hell, there was no way she was going to sit all the way over here and not enjoy that cock all night.

  “But…”

  He lifted one brow, and that was all he needed to do to remind her of who made the rules here. He had been very clear. It was his rules for the rest of the night. She was his to do with as he pleased until tomorrow morning, and if she didn’t like it…well, she didn’t have to be here.

  And she really wanted to be here.

  Sliding a hand between her legs, she found her wet slit and ran her fingers up and down it. The sensation almost caused her to buck off the couch because of how sensitive she’d become just from the way he was staring at her.

  He gripped his cock and began rubbing his hand up and down. A low growl emanated from his throat when he watched her dip a finger inside herself and then two. They went on like that for a while, rubbing and thrusting and pushing themselves closer and closer to the edge with their eyes glued to one another.

  Josie’s fingers found her clit, and she began rubbing quick, hard circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m close,” she said with a gasp as she felt her orgasm rumbling beneath the surface.

  “Stop.”

  “What?” She stopped rubbing and looked at him, her body protesting the abrupt halt. She was full of tension, and her release was just out of grasp.

  “Come here.” He lifted one finger and curled it, calling her toward him. “You don’t come without me.”

  She could get behind that. Scurrying off the couch, she quickly made her way over to him, but as soon as she reached him, he turned her around and then placed a hand on her back. He pushed her down until she was bending over.

  “Grab your ankles,” he told her. “Spread your feet and come fucking hard.”

  He was still seated in the chair in front of her, and now she was spread wide in front of him like a goddamn feast. And he ate his fill. His tongue plunged between her folds and lapped at her core while his fingers twirled circles around her clit. Within seconds, she was bursting at the seams as her orgasm ripped through her, and she nearly fell to the rug beneath her feet.

  He held her steady as he continued to lick, suck, nibble, and tongue fuck her orgasm out of her until she finally fell limp into his lap. He didn’t miss a beat. Without pause, he’d already slid a condom onto his cock and sat her directly onto himself.

  Gripping her waist with both hands, he lifted her off him and back on over and over, and he used his hips to pump in and out of her. She tilted her head sideways to find his mouth, their lips molding together as he kissed her.

  Hard and fast, he thrust until she could feel the warm surge of his climax inside her and he groaned at his release. He stilled as he caught his breath, and she leaned back against his chest to catch her own.

  “Fuck,” he said with a slow groan. “That was amazing.”

  “And just think…” she teased. “We haven’t even made it to the bedroom yet.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’ve never seen anyone cook naked before,” Callan commented, leaning against the island counter in the hotel suite’s kitchen as Josie stood in front of the range in nothing but an apron.

  “I’m technically wearing an apron,” she pointed out, jostling the string around her waist. “So, I’m not naked. Safety first, you know.”

  He chuckled, picking up the glass of whiskey in front of him and sipping on it. “What are you making anyway?”

  As soon as they’d recovered from their third bout of having sex, she’d declared she was famished and needed sustenance. Literally. That was how she’d said it. He’d offered her room service—hello, this was the MGM—but she’d insisted on cooking something herself. Luckily, he had a fully stocked fridge, so that wasn’t a concern.

  “Breakfast,” she replied.

  He glanced down at his Rolex. It was almost three in the morning. “Well, I guess it is almost morning.”

  Josie turned her head to look back at him, a dashing smile on her face. “Breakfast for late-night dinner is one of the best luxuries in life.”

  “The hotel does serve food all day long to the penthouse, you know,” he reminded her as he walked up behind her and circled his arms around her waist. She leaned her head to the side as he kissed her neck. “We could have had this ordered in…to bed.”

  She swatted him away. “There’s still plenty of time for that. I just love to cook. I was going to be a chef, you know.”

  He leaned back against the counter. “Were you?”

  She nodded. “I was. Until my brother’s career kind of took center stage in my family.”

  “What’s your brother’s career have to do with you?” he asked as she plated an omelet and placed it in front of him. It had to be the fluffiest, most delectable stack of eggs and cheese he’d ever smelled.

  “What happened to our rules?” She lifted one brow as she looked up at him. “No details, remember.”

  “Humor me,” he responded.

  Indecision crossed her face, but she finally shrugged her shoulders. “I work for my brother.”

  She stabbed a fork into his omelet and took a bite for herself.

  He surveyed her face as she spoke and noticed a flicker of something—resentment, annoyance? He wasn’t sure, but it seemed negative. He wanted to dig a little deeper.

  “Is that your dream job?”

  She snorted, rolling her eyes so hard that they practically rolled into the back of her head. “Far from it. Like I said, I wanted to be a chef. I actually went to culinary school straight out of college. I have the skills to be one if I wanted. I just need to study under a chef for a while and get some experience in a kitchen—if any damn place would actually hire me. My real dream is to work on the strip one day or have a restaurant out in Los Angeles.”

  “Really?” That news perked up his ears. His hometown. “Los Angeles would be lucky to have you.”

  She handed him her fork, and he took a bite of the omelet. The taste was every bit as good as how the eggs looked in their presentation. Better, even. The flavors teased and exploded against his tongue with every bite—a mixture of cheese and bacon and egg that worked perfectly together.

  “Mmm.” He closed his eyes. “Yeah, we’d be fucking thrilled to have you. You’re talented, Josie. You should be doing what you love. You should be cooking.”

  “Maybe one day.” She shrugged, sauntering back to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a carton of orange juice and poured a glass. She took a sip first and then placed it in front of him.

  Callan offered her another bite of the large omelet because it was way too much for him to eat alone. She accepted, and he fed it to her. It was damn near sensual, and he realized he was getting turned on again just at the way her lips wrapped around the fork and pulled at the eggs.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” he said with a low growl coming up from his chest.

  She grinned. “Do you want me to blow on it for you?”

  There was no other way to answer that question except hell fucking yes.

  With deliberate movements, he slowly pushed down the top of his sweatpants. He worked himself out of his boxer briefs and held his cock in his hands.

  Her eyes widened as she watched him, and she visibly swallowed, her chest rising and falling faster and faster as her breath quickened.

  “Get on your knees.”

  “Is that a command,” she dared him, her eyes sparkling with desire and the hint of a smile on her lips. “Sir?”

  “Get. On. Your. Knees.” He would only repeat himself once.

  Sauntering over to him, she placed her hands on his chest and slowly dropped to her knees, letting her hands slide down his chest as she did so. Her nails grazed his abs and stopped at the hem of his sweatpants, finding a resting spot on
his hips.

  “Mmm,” she moaned as she leaned forward and let her tongue slide across the length of his hardened cock.

  He hissed at the warm, wet sensation of her mouth, his hips bucking forward at the feeling. He moved deeper into her mouth, the warmth of her lips covering him as she took him deeper and deeper. Within seconds, he was sliding down her throat and then pulling back out, only to slide back down again.

  The woman had no gag reflex. It was incredibly sexy, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking full advantage of wanting every delicious lick of her tongue. She swirled around him like she was licking a lollipop, and he knew he was close.

  “I’m close,” he told her, warning her, but she just pulled him tighter against her.

  When he came, she took everything he had to offer and then stood up like it was no big deal. He had to sit down at the kitchen island to collect himself, but she leaned against the counter and helped herself to the rest of the omelet like she was famished from a workout.

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said.

  She chuckled. “Oh, I know. But wait until I make you my soufflé. You’ll never be the same.”

  He lifted one brow. “Is that so?”

  Josie finished her food and washed the plate, yawning and stretching her arms over her head.

  “Ready for bed?” he asked.

  Sheepishly, she glanced at him. “Honestly, a little bit. Maybe a short nap?”

  Callan grinned, reaching a hand out toward her. “Come on, little one. Let’s go to bed.”

  She took his hand and curled up into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, and they walked to the bedroom. He pulled the covers down on the mattress and watched as she crawled into the middle of the bed, taking the apron off and throwing it onto the floor.

  Callan rid himself of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxer briefs, and crawled into the king-size bed beside her.

  The big spoon to her little spoon, he wrapped his body around hers from behind. She sighed contentedly and backed up into him.

  “Good night, Callan,” she said with a soft whisper, kissing the back of his hand.

  “Good night, Josie,” he replied, kissing the side of her head through her curly mound of hair. “Thanks for tonight.”

  She giggled. “You’re welcome?”

  “I’m serious,” he said. “There’s no one else I’d rather bury a body with. I’m really glad we met.”

  “Aw.” She turned around in his arms to face him, chest to chest, laughing lightly at his words. “I’m really glad we met, too. I feel really close to you already. We’re basically bonded for life now over that damn doll.”

  He grinned. “Partners in crime.”

  She pushed a lock of hair out of his face and smoothed her finger across his cheek. “I feel like we were meant to meet.”

  “Maybe we were,” he mused.

  “Maybe we were,” she confirmed.

  Chapter Six

  When she woke up the next morning, Josie could feel the ache of the tequila pounding in her skull. She groaned, rubbing at her temples as she tried to focus on a way to make the pain go away.

  “Not feeling so hot?” Callan asked her, yawning as he was just coming around to waking up. His arms were wrapped around her torso. “All that tequila yesterday would do it.”

  Josie made a moaning sound in response because that was about all she could manage at the moment. She backed up into his body farther, curling into his warmth.

  “I’m taking that as a ‘not feeling so hot,’” he replied, gently peeling himself from her and standing up from the bed. “Can I get you anything? Water? Aspirin?”

  “Yes and yes.” She put her head under a pillow and blocked out the sunlight streaming in through the window. “And anything else you can find to fix a hangover.”

  Memories of last night came swarming back to her. Did we bury a sex doll together? Oh, God. She needed to stop drinking.

  Callan snorted, laughing. “How about some French toast and strawberries from room service?”

  “Ding ding ding,” she replied, sticking a hand up in the air. “I’ll take two.”

  “Great, well, I’ll place the order.” He picked up the phone on the nightstand. “Stay as long as you’d like. I have a work obligation at eleven, so I have to leave in a few minutes.”

  “Where’s my phone?” Josie scrambled out of bed so fast, she nearly rocketed from the sheets. “It’s not eleven already, right?”

  “It’s ten o’clock,” he informed her, checking the time on his iPhone. “We definitely slept in.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” She ran to the bathroom and turned the shower knobs quickly. “Mind if I take the fastest shower in the world?”

  “Go for it,” he told her. “So, is that a no on breakfast?”

  “No time!” she shrieked, jumping under the stream of water and beginning to clean herself as fast as her hands could lather soap across her body. She had less than an hour to be clean, dry, and sitting with her brother at his press junket in front of hundreds of reporters. He was going to freaking kill her if she wasn’t there. Hell, he was already probably freaking out that she wasn’t at the house. She’d definitely missed the morning call time, having already supposed to be mic’ed-up and in front of the cameras this morning.

  Shit. She was in deep shit.

  Why did she even care? She paused for a moment, almost considering crawling right back into bed and fucking the hell out of the beautiful stranger she’d just met.

  That would certainly be better than living her life. More like, living her brother’s life. But she did what she had to do for the family. That was just part of being a Gray. It was the only life she had ever known.

  She quickly finished up the rest of her shower and hopped out, drying herself off and looking for her clothes. She’d tossed them everywhere last night.

  “Here,” Callan said, walking up to her with a garment bag. “I had the hotel send this up while you were in the shower. I think it’s your size.”

  She blinked twice, looking at him with surprise. “What?”

  He unzipped the garment bag, and inside was a very professional-looking sleeveless white dress that cut off at the knees. “I figured you were late for a work event or something, and maybe this would come in handy. Seems like it would work for any type of event, really.”

  It was freaking perfect. Now she would actually look like she had tried for the press junket and not just rolled out of bed and done the walk of shame.

  She balked at the grandness of the gesture. “You’re just going to give me this?”

  “I mean…you can bring it back,” he said, a teasing smile on his lips. “I’d love an excuse to see you again.”

  Josie grinned, loving the not-so-subtle way he’d managed to sneak himself back into her life. “I think I would be willing to return the outfit tonight. I might need some help unzipping it, after all.”

  “I’m very good at taking off clothes,” he teased with a wink.

  She laughed, taking the dress from him and bringing it into the bathroom. She slipped on the dress and glanced at her reflection. It fit perfectly, like a glove. In fact, she looked downright amazing. She was definitely going to see him tonight, but she might not give this dress back—she looked too damn good in it.

  Upon exiting the bathroom, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely on the lips. “Thank you. You’re amazing.”

  He lifted her off the ground, growling lightly against her neck. Walking her over to the bed, he threatened to toss her onto it.

  Josie squealed and smacked at his shoulders. “Put me down! I have to go!”

  “Just one more romp in the sheets,” he teased. “You’re so fucking sexy in this dress.”

  She wiggled out of his arms, finally freeing herself. “You are impossible.”

  “Because I can’t wait to see you again?” He kissed her on the cheek. “Some would call that romantic, my dear.”

  “Don�
��t forget the rules,” she reminded him, a flutter of nerves—or was it excitement?—in her belly. “No falling in love.”

  “I didn’t make any promises about not falling in lust.” He smacked her ass as she walked away, making an mmm noise. “That booty, though.”

  She laughed, putting an extra sway in her walk to purposely make her ass shake as she moved. “Goodbye, Callan.”

  “Goodbye, Josie,” he called after her as she left the hotel room. “See you tonight. Same time, same place.”

  She waved at him and headed down the hallway. The moment she got on the elevator, she powered up her cell phone. Sure enough, it beeped for a solid minute with notifications coming in.

  37 unread text messages.

  10 missed calls.

  3 voicemails.

  Ah, her work was never done. Being her brother’s personal assistant was exhausting sometimes, but it paid the bills. And it paid well. Like, really well. Almost as well as being one of the characters on Gray’s Angels, the reality show that she and her family often starred in, even though her brother was the main character. Being his assistant and sister meant she had a main role in his life and, therefore, a main role on the show.

  She was able to afford a really nice life in the city she loved because of what her brother did, and for that, she was really grateful. None of them would have found fame or success if it hadn’t been for his career and bringing them to the limelight. She just had to remember that. She had to keep that in the foreground of her mind instead of thinking about all the what-ifs, the maybe-insteads, the I-could-have-beens.

  Sure, she loved to cook, and she’d done damn well in culinary school, but that wasn’t going to pay the bills anytime soon. Not here in Las Vegas, at least. Not to mention the fact that leaving the family business—which would essentially mean leaving her brother—would be seen as abandoning the family. Plus, she had a contract with the show.

  Leaving just wasn’t an option in the Gray family.

  You do for family. It was the family motto, and if they had a crest, that was what it would say.