Page 20 of Wicked Games
“Christian it is then. I’m going to greet our guests. I’ll see you guys in the dining room in a few minutes.”
Once she left, I faced Lucien once more. The urge to deck him was still strong, but the will to clear my name was stronger. I needed his intel to make it happen, which was the only reason I didn’t act on my simmering rage.
“Follow me,” I said.
I led Lucien down the hallway toward the guest bathroom then stopped at the door and gestured for him to go inside. Instead, he shoved me inside and shut the door behind him.
“I want to rip that stupid mustache off your face.”
“Come home with me after this, and you’ll get your chance.”
“No fucking way. I told you—”
Lucien fisted my shirt, dragged me forward, and planted his lips against mine.
RYDER’S RESISTANCE WAS TOKEN ANDdidn’t last more than a heartbeat. I didn’t force my tongue between his lips; he was the aggressor. I parted mine easily and hungrily though, desperate to taste him and feel the arousal vibrating through his body. My dick was hard and aching, pleading for more of his rough treatment. I pressed myself tighter against him, reveling in his hardness pressed against mine.
It felt like second nature to grind against him while sucking his tongue into my mouth. I was seconds away from dropping to my knees and blowing him, uncaring we were in his parents’ home or that nothing was resolved between us. I wanted to take, to please, and to fuse the connection I thought lost to me forever.
Ryder came to his wits before I did, wrenching his mouth free of mine and stepping away from me. “Why are you really here, Lucien? What game are you playing now?”
“It’s not a game, Ry. Come home with me after dinner, and I will tell you everything.”
Ryder ran his hands through his hair and took another step back, looking as if he were fighting the biggest internal battle of his life. “It’s not a good idea. It won’t change anything. You can’t undo our past, and you can’t give me back the things you took from me.” He wasn’t talking about priceless artifacts, and we both knew it.
“Ryder, I know you may never trust me again, but I owe you the truth. I want to give it to you now.”
“I felt what you want to give me,” he said snidely, looking at the erection straining against my pants. His blue eyes were clouded with lust, hurt, and disillusionment. “God, I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me, Ryder.” Even though he should. “Part of you knows the real me would never choose to hurt you, and it’s the same part that’s keeping you from turning me over to the FBI. Your cynicism is preventing you from seeing the bigger picture.”
“What? That I’m the museum’s patsy? I already figured it out, but why do you care?” Ryder closed the gap between us and got up in my face. “Are you outraged someone else dared to use me? Do you think you’re the only one worthy of destroying my life? You’re the reason I’m in this mess to begin with, so why the hell should I trust you?”
“We want the same thing here, Ry.” He bristled with rage, and I longed to sooth the beast inside him. “We’ll find out who is behind this and clear your name. By doing so, it might shed new light on the prior recoveries in Paris and Cairo.”
“Recoveries?” Ryder asked incredulously.
Fuck, I hadn’t meant to say that, but maybe I had to give him a little upfront before I asked him to accept a lot later on. “Look, we don’t have time to get into this right now with your family and their guests waiting for us to join them in the dining room.”
“We’re not leaving this bathroom until you explain why you said ‘recoveries’ instead of thefts.” Ryder’s adorable use of air quotes made me want to smile, but I didn’t dare with so much at stake. I’d never seen him use them before and wanted to know when the habit started, but it wasn’t the time to ask.
“I’m not a thief, Ryder. I’m a recovery specialist.”
He snorted. “Pull the other leg.”
I reached between his legs and cupped his erection, and because it was as natural to him as breathing, he pushed against my hand. Unfortunately, he came to his senses and batted my hand away.
“It’s a saying, not a request, Lucien.”
“I’m familiar with the saying, but it doesn’t specify which leg. If given a choice, I’ll always grab the one in the middle.”
“Do you want me to take you seriously and hear you out?” Ryder asked.
“More than anything.”
“Then tell me what a recovery specialist does. You can give me the Cliff Notes version for now.”
“Okay, fine,” I agreed. “It’s not stealing if I recover items that didn’t belong to the museums in the first place.”