Page 25 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Seventeen

Dangerous Liaisons

L iam stood by the bed, watching her sleep. He’d ended up carrying her the short distance from the elevator to the room. The fumes she’d been running on had faded, and she’d almost fallen asleep standing right there in the corner of the elevator.

He’d gently washed her feet again, then pulled off her tee and leggings, ignoring her soft protests and leaving her naked under the covers.

And, yes, he’d been tempted to trail his lips and fingers all over her perfect form, but he’d tamped it down.

He wanted her awake for those intimate caresses, but she’d barely been conscious, the exhaustion more than the result of an adrenaline drop.

It was from the final, futile grasp of her father’s drugs trying to stay in her system.

Silently begging her body to take more. Whispering that she would feel so much better. So much calmer.

So much more malleable.

Liam clenched a fist at his side. The woman had a way of driving him crazy, that was for sure. Still, he would never dream of pharmaceutically padlocking that sarcastic, snarky, bold woman. But Victor Reed wanted a controllable little princess, and so did men like him all over the world.

Liam’s hand ached, and he realized he’d clenched it into a fist as if he could will Victor into the room, then pummel his face until that prick atoned for his crimes.

Except there was no atonement possible for a man like Reed.

Killing Rebecca? Killing his wife? Torturing and manipulating his daughter?

Victor Reed was the devil, and Liam intended to make him dance for all the world to see.

Then he’d kick his knees out and watch the bastard fall from his own goddamn tower. Hopefully, not metaphorically.

For years, he’d told himself that his pursuit of Reed wasn’t about Sasha. It was about his mother. About Victor Reed getting away with murder.

And that was true. But it was only part of the truth.

The whole truth was that Liam had hated himself for craving the woman now sleeping only a few feet away. A woman he’d been certain was nothing more than Victor Reed’s puppet, willingly and eagerly spreading her father’s lies.

The gloves had come off three years ago when she’d accused Elias of killing her mother at a press conference.

As far as Liam was concerned, Elias Grimm was the devil himself, but the accusation didn’t make sense, and damned if Victor Reed’s beautiful and reclusive mouthpiece of a daughter was going to get away with lying about his family. Even a family that all but shunned him.

Maybe some part of him had wanted to prove himself worthy of being a Grimm, whatever that meant.

He didn’t know. He didn’t care. But he’d cornered her after that press interview, then made sure she knew that he had her number.

To him, she was nothing more than a lying little bitch—one who couldn’t think for herself and only followed her daddy’s lead, among a host of other horrible attributes.

Having laid out the verdict, he set out to prove it.

In the process, he’d learned a hell of a lot more than he’d expected, including that Victor Reed had killed both Sasha’s mother and his own.

That the drugs were unapproved and untested.

And that the man was only inches away from marketing them to a select group of wealthy individuals in transactions that would be virtually untraceable.

Too bad he hadn’t a whit of legitimate evidence he could take to the authorities, but Liam knew damn well every word was true. And he vowed to get the kind of proof that would not only take Reed down but would slam him behind bars for life.

And there was Sasha, trapped in the middle of it all. His heart twisted. Elias Grimm was a shitshow of a father and a vile human being. But he was Gandhi compared to Victor Reed.

Liam shuddered, telling himself he didn’t give a fuck about the man who fathered him. Who treated him like a wicked stepson, locked away in a basement.

Except, of course, he did care. And clearing Elias’s name by proving that Victor killed Lydia just might earn him the right to rise one rung on the family ladder.

And goddamn him to hell for wanting that.

He clenched his fists, drew a breath, then released it slowly.

Right now, he just wanted the woman. Not because the proof of Victor Reed’s crimes still lived in her blood, but because she sparked something inside him. He didn’t know what. He didn’t care.

He wasn’t even sure he liked it.

All he knew was the craving. The tightening in his chest. In his balls.

The way his hands itched to touch her. To take her. To make her his and protect her from the horrors of the goddamn world.

To protect her even from himself.

And wasn’t he turning into a damn pussy?

With a soft grunt, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as the moonlight filtered through the gap in the curtains. It caught her hair, making it gleam like the crown of an angel he wanted to defile.

To take down.

To exorcise from his fantasies for once and for all. Just as he’d tried to do over and over again on those lonely nights when he’d hacked into Elysium, the world she thought so safe and impenetrable.

He’d discovered her private sanctuary by accident when he’d been hacking Reed Tower’s electronic files. He’d seen a bandwidth irregularity, and that had led him to a secret server. Being a curious sort, he’d followed the footprints until he’d ended up in another world.

Sasha’s world.

And wasn’t that an interesting place to vacation?

He spent months carefully examining the code through the backdoors he installed, tweaking the prince here and there, letting him grow organically more and more into Liam’s doppelganger even as the prince teased and touched and flirted with Vale.

The real fun had begun when he realized that Sasha had access to wearable equipment to enhance the virtual experience, and he acquired his own bodysuit and headset with a few well-placed bribes.

He told himself he’d only hacked in to observe. To study this woman who got under his skin in ways both good and bad.

How could he have anticipated finding himself there? The fantasy prince who courted her slowly, teasing and tempting. Whose whispers turned dirty as his touch turned naughty, exploring all her dark, soft places, using fingers and tongue to take Sasha—no, Vale —to the highest reaches of pleasure.

And damned if he wasn’t jealous of Prince Killiam, especially when she cried out his name. When she thought it was just an AI-created prince who took her to the edge. Who pushed her over that sensual precipice. Who made her scream and beg and feel.

Prince Killiam.

She’d built him from code and craving, a fantasy prince who praised her gently and whispered filthy promises in a voice that sounded almost—almost—like his.

As far as Liam was concerned, the prince’s moniker meant that Liam wasn’t trespassing at all. That name was practically an engraved invitation. Not only into her world but into her virtual bed—and he’d accepted the invitation eagerly.

He’d logged in every night to kiss her lips and lick her cunt. To bite her breasts. To fuck her hard and deep until she screamed his name, albeit hidden in the name of the prince she thought she craved.

He’d intruded. He’d violated. He’d defiled.

And he’d loved every sensual, crazed moment of it. The way her body had tightened around his cock, the sensations through the bodysuit like a goddamn revelation. The passion in her eyes when she came.

He should have felt shame. Instead, he felt power.

And now, damn him, he felt so much more.

Her responsiveness in Elysium had made him harder than he’d ever been—and had made him wonder how she’d respond with real skin against skin.

He wanted to take her in all the ways he’d already had her. And yet he couldn’t.

He had to be careful.

He had to push aside the memory of those wild and erotic moments. The need he’d felt. The passion he’d witnessed from that sleeping princess.

She didn’t know he’d been in Elysium, and he intended to keep it that way.

But she was damn sure going to know him in this world.