Theirs to Corrupt (Titans Captivated #5)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Tessa

The question echoes in my mind as I study Pax’s face. His green eyes meet mine steadily, revealing nothing.

“You believe in the Machiavellian principle? That the ends justify the means?” I counter, leaning forward slightly.

Pax’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a slight tension in his shoulders.

“After the threat…” I rub the stem of my glass. “Did Link get his money?”

“The boss plays to win.” Pax’s tone is flat, his gaze unwavering.

That’s probably as close to an answer as I’ll ever get.

For a few minutes, I’m lost, staring into the depths of my wine, and questions I’ve had since I first looked the men up on Scandalicious return to me. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact we’re alone for once and that danger seems far away. But curiosity gets the better of me. “Is it true that he’s a Titan?”

Pax’s lips curl into a grin, the first real smile I’ve seen from him all evening. “The fictitious secret society?”

“Is it?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, the movement causing his shirt to stretch across his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”

I pause, considering my words carefully. “Seems fanciful.” And yet so does this world that I’m now living in. “At one time, I believed my brother was misguided, maybe a little spoiled by our parents, but essentially a good human being. I never imagined he’d try to…” What? Prostitute me?

Shoving aside my upset, I go on. “I thought the Mafia was something that only existed in movies and history. And that I’d be able to stay hidden forever.”

Pax leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze never leaves mine.

“At this point, the idea of Titans doesn’t seem any crazier than anything else. That influential, wealthy people would get together at an undisclosed location to discuss ideas, politics, try to solve world problems…”

He steeples his hands, quietly waiting for me to go on.

I shrug. “Other secret societies exist.”

He waits.

“At exclusive colleges, for example.” Warming to my topic, I study him carefully. “There’s one that three former presidents belong to, along with two previous supreme court appointees.”

As I score my point, he inclines his head to one side.

“So, if such an organization exists, I’d have no problem believing Link was a member.” I look at Pax, studying the strong lines of his face. “Question is, are you?”

He says nothing, but I notice a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Is being a Titan a matter of birth?” I press, leaning forward.

“I’m sure, hypothetically, that couldn’t hurt,” Pax replies, his voice low and measured.

“Legacy. Like a lot of things.”

“Yet if it were limited to that criteria, what would the point be?”

I nod slowly as things fall into place. “That’s why people like Julien Bonds might have joined.” After referencing the Genius of the Known Universe, I pause and gently swirl my stem. The wine catches the light, glinting like liquid gold.

“If such a group actually existed,” he clarifies.

“Right.” Since he hasn’t told me I’m ridiculous or changed the subject, I’m more convinced than ever that at least one of my future husbands is a Titan.

Pax picks up his wine but doesn’t take a sip.

I take his silence as an invitation to continue.

“At least tell me about Hawkeye.”

“The man?”

“The myth, the legend,” I add, grinning.

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Something like that.”

All tension vanishes, and for that moment, I’m enjoying myself.

Since he hasn’t shut down my questioning, I press forward. “I’m curious about the company itself. I mean, obviously you’re adept at protective services. And I see online that the firm provides paramilitary operations.”

“Yeah.”

“And that many people who work there are former members of the military—especially special forces. And police. Even FBI, CIA. All the letters of the alphabet.”

“You have been doing your research,” Pax says, his tone a mixture of amusement and admiration.

“You were military.” That’s about the only thing I’m sure of.

I half expect him to dodge my statement. Instead he’s straightforward.

“Army.” He pauses, and I bite back my impatience and wait for him to go on. “Like my father before me.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, I shift, and the soft fabric of my dress seems to whisper against my skin.

Pax’s expression softens slightly as he continues. “We didn’t have a lot. Mom died when I was young, so he did the best he could with an eight-year-old he didn’t relate to. He left the military for me and joined the local police force.” He pauses. “He was killed in the line of duty when I was seventeen.”

“Oh God, Pax…” My heart aches for him, and I resist the urge to go to him.

“I was pissed at the entire fucking world. And…” He gives a wry smile. “The aunt who took me in gave me two choices. Join the military or be thrown out.”

“Yikes,” I murmur, my mind racing to imagine a young, angry Pax facing such a decision.

“She was more generous than I deserved.”

I wonder if there’s more to the story. “Special forces?” I persist.

“Yeah.” He finally takes a drink. “Till I had enough, and Hawkeye recruited me. Recommended by a friend.”

“Torin and Mira? Obviously you trust them?”

“With my life. They recently got married.”

I suspected there was some type of relationship, but I hadn’t guessed they were actually married. “I’m surprised the organization allows it.”

“Company policy doesn’t necessarily prohibit it.”

Makes sense, I guess, since Pax is evidently more than just a protector to Link. “But that they get to go on assignments together?”

“They’re both highly trained agents, and Torin teaches at the company’s training center in Nevada. Fieldwork is an important component of instruction. They’re not often assigned together, but Hawkeye doesn’t want to risk losing either of them, so he ensures they have time together.”

I have a million more questions, but suddenly I yawn.

“You’ve had a long couple of days,” Pax says softly.

Is that all it’s been?

“We have a lifetime to learn about each other.”

Touched by the reassurance in his voice, I smile. “I guess that’s true.” I stand and pick up my glass. “Good night.”

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

At the entrance to my room, I look over my shoulder.

He hasn’t moved or taken his gaze off me.

My heart thumping a little from his endearment, I close the door.

For a few moments, still processing my time with Pax, I look out the window and sip my wine.

Finally, feeling drowsy, I try to undress. But my zipper is impossible to reach. No matter how hard I try, I can’t manage it alone.

Giving up, I return to the living room. Pax has remained exactly where he was.

“Uhm…” I begin. Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I could use some help,” I admit, gesturing to my back.

“Of course.” After putting down his glass, he comes to stand behind me.

The warmth of his body sears me.

He grasps the zipper, and I hold my breath as he slowly lowers it. The brush of his knuckles against my spine sends rivers of awareness through me.

His fingers linger at the base of my spine, and I’m very much aware of every point where our bodies almost meet.

“Go to bed, Tessa,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath warm on my skin. “While you still can.”

Sensual warning is laced through his tone, and I’d be wise to heed it.

He moves his hands away, and I press my palms against the front of my dress to hold it in place.

The air crackles with tension, and intimacy hangs between us, like an invitation I don’t dare accept.

After drawing a steadying breath, I turn to face him.

“Thank you.” I order myself to turn, to run, but I stand there, riveted, as if held in place by an invisible force.

Gently he brushes a finger against my cheek.

“Fuck.” Then he whispers, “Tessa…” He leans in closer, his breath mingling with mine in a shared heartbeat. And then he closes the gap between us, his lips meeting mine in a tender kiss.

Unable to resist, I melt into him, threading my fingers through his hair, holding on to this feeling of connection. The heat of his body seeps into mine, telling me I can trust him, erasing any doubts or fears I’ve had about how right this is.

His possession is not demanding or urgent; it’s a gentle exploration, a silent promise of more to come. The taste of him is intoxicating, and I am drawn deeper into his embrace, losing myself in the moment.

His arms are strong, reassuring, and right now, there’s nothing but the two of us, safety, and the moment.

He trails his fingers down my spine, igniting my nerve ending, leaving me dizzy, craving more.

With a moan, his erection hard against me, he deepens the kiss, and I start to lose myself.

I want…

He wrenches himself away, and I take a shaky step back, my breaths coming in little bursts.

Thank God one of us is capable of rational thought because I’d been so very close to giving into my need for him.

“Final warning, Tessa. I’m about done being a gentleman.”

I shiver, and not from fear.

“Tessa…” My name is a growl and a warning.

Jarred back to reality, I clutch the front of my dress tighter and hurry away.

I reach my room. Then, before I can change my mind, I shut the door. I don’t bother with the lock. Experience has already taught me that nothing will keep either of them out if they decide to enter.

I change into a sleep set Link bought me, either in Houston or earlier today at the bridal shop. The two-piece outfit—shorts and a top with spaghetti straps—is silky, and a delicate shade of peach.

I’ve told him not to spoil me, but I have to admit; these are the nicest pajamas I’ve ever owned.

Until I can find a job and get back on my feet, maybe I should just enjoy the moment.

The memory of Pax being so close won’t go away, even when I slip beneath the cool covers and turn off the nightstand lamp.

The moment I close my eyes and roll onto my side, hoping to drift off, I’m suddenly wide awake.

I listen for sounds of movement, but I hear none.

An hour, maybe two later, I finally doze off with thoughts and images of Pax and Link teasing me, blurring the boundary between reality and fantasy.

I’m back in the living room of our suite, moonlight spilling through the open blinds, casting soft shadows across the room.

Pax is there, his shirtsleeves rolled back, and Link emerges from his bedroom wearing a dress shirt and a pair of pants. The air is supercharged with a sense of forbidden desire. My heart races with anticipation.

Link beckons.

Helpless to resist him or myself, I obey.

When I’m in front of him, he trails his fingers down my arm, igniting a response deep in me.

He doesn’t ask permission as he reaches for the bottom of my sleep top.

Without being asked, I raise my arms, so he can sweep the garment up. Then he releases it, and it floats to the floor to pool there.

The air-conditioning whispers across my skin, making my nipples hard. At least I tell myself that’s what’s happening. Surely my reaction isn’t just from the way the men are looking at me…with deep hunger.

I’m flooded with conflicting emotions, a thrilling mix of vulnerability and exhilaration curling in my belly.

They share a look that is charged with unspoken agreement. I feel exposed, yet strangely empowered and free.

“You’re stunning, little dove.” Link’s voice is low, laced with a sexy huskiness.

“He’s right.” Pax comes closer. “You’ve never been more beautiful.” He sweeps his gaze over my bare skin, looking at me the way he had earlier, leaving me yearning for more.

Slowly, with deliberate intent, Link reaches to cup my breast, his palm warm and firm.

I gasp, arching into his touch as electricity arcs through me.

Even as Link continues, circling my hardening nipple with his thumb, “Let go, little dove. Be mine.”

How can I resist?

“Ask for it.”

“Please,” I whisper.

Link’s hand is a dangerous promise, and his thumb brushes against my sensitive peak. I moan softly and slightly arch my back.

Pax cups my other breast, and he gently squeezes.

Each man’s unique touch drives me mad.

Pax tightens his grip slightly, his fingers coaxing another soft moan from my lips. “Offer yourself to me.”

Though I’m not sure what he’s demanding, I rise onto my tiptoes.

I lean into him, silently begging for more of his touch. He rewards me by rolling my nipple between his fingers, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me.

Link, not to be outdone, dips his head to capture my other nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. I gasp, my hands instinctively going to their shoulders to steady myself as my knees weaken.

They support me, their strong arms wrapping around my waist, holding me up as they continue their sensual assault. I’m coming undone, trembling, lost…

I shake my head back and forth desperately.

Then all of a sudden, I’m somewhere else, disoriented, the room spinning, my heart racing.

Breathless, I blink the world back into focus, trying to reorient myself.

As reality seeps back in, I realize it was just a dream—nothing more. But it felt so real, so vivid.

The way they had looked at me, touched me… It had felt like more than just a figment of my imagination. It had felt like forever.

I drink in a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady my nerves.

I tell myself that it’s just the stress of the past few days, the unceasing series of events that have devoured my life.

After pushing my hair back from my face, I climb out of bed. After slipping into a robe, I pick up my glass from earlier. Knowing I won’t sleep, I make my way back to the living room.

A single lamp casts a warm glow across the space, and I wander over to the window.

Las Vegas is sprawled out below, twinkling lights against the night sky. I take a sip of wine, hoping it will help calm my jangled nerves.

My emotions are a tangled mess. The dream was…incredible.

I hardly recognize the version of myself in it. Would I really give myself over so completely to Link and Pax like that? The thought both thrills and unsettles me.

A soft sound breaks through my reverie.

Startled, I turn to find Link standing in the doorway to his room. Seeing him so near, right after my dream, jolts me.

He’s wearing the same trousers from earlier. Though his tie is gone and the top few buttons on his shirt are open, he’s still dressed for business. Does the man ever sleep? “Sorry if I woke you,” I murmur.

“You didn’t.” He crosses the room to pour himself a drink. Then he comes to stand next to me.

I’m acutely aware of his proximity. The dream may have been a fantasy, but the real Link’s effect on me is undeniable.

“Trouble sleeping?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

I nod.

“Want to talk about it?”

God no. “No.”

At his slight frown, I soften my response. “Thank you, though.” How would I even begin to tell him that my subconscious has conjured scenarios that excite and terrify me? That I want him and Pax terribly? As much as I want to not want them.

Link studies me.

The air between us hums with tension, like it had in my dreams. I take another sip of wine to distract myself from him.

“You don’t have to be scared.”

I freeze. How can he read me so easily? “I’m not.” But my lie is a whisper, not a strong statement.

“You’re a terrible liar, little dove.” He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, just like he’d done in the dressing room of Rêve de Mode.

“I…”

Wordlessly he plucks the glass from my hand and places it on a nearby end table.

So like the dream, but this is oh-so real.

My world narrows, and it’s just me and this compelling billionaire, standing in the soft glow of the Vegas night.

Link’s hand cups my cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding me.

“Little dove,” he says, his voice a low rumble that resonates deep within me. “You’re safe with me. With us.”

If reality is anything like my fantasies, I’m definitely not safe with them. My reactions frighten me. “I barely know you.” And what I do know isn’t reassuring.

“Then ask me anything.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Why are you doing this?” The question I’ve been holding back finally escapes. “Why marry me? Why go to such lengths to protect me?”

Link’s hand drops away, and he takes a step back, giving me space. He turns away, moving toward the window, his gaze lost in the cityscape below. The silence stretches between us, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to answer me at all.

“I have my reasons.”

His response is guarded, as I expected.

“Some of them are…complicated.”

I watch him, the play of light and shadow across his features, the tension in his shoulders. “Complicated how?”

“I told you once that I always win my battles. That’s true.” He clasps his hands behind his back. “But in this world, the one I inhabit, victories often come with…strings attached. Alliances are formed; favors are owed.”

He’s speaking in riddles.

“Life is a game of chess, and every move has consequences.”

Trying to follow his logic, I frown. “And marrying me… That’s a move in your game?”

“More than that.” Link turns to face me, his blue eyes like ice. “By making you my wife, I’m ensuring your safety. It’s the most effective way to protect you.”

“But why go to these lengths? Why not just…hide me away? Help me get a fresh start?”

“Because I want you to be mine.” His gaze never wavers from mine. “That first night at the Rusty Nail… You were fierce, brave, and so damn beautiful.”

But there’s more. There has to be. He’d called me Tessa when he only knew me as Nikki. “You figured out who I was.”

He doesn’t attempt to deny it. “When I found out about the danger you were in, I knew I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

A chill rocks through me as another terrible realization occurs to me. “You know Emiliano.”

Once more, he remains silent.

“And you’re taking me away from him.”

“A bonus,” he assures me. “Not my motivation.”

How am I a pawn between them?

He closes the distance between us and gently curls his hands around my shoulders. “You’re meant to be cherished. As my wife, you will be.”

In the time we’ve known each other, is it possible, even a little bit, that this compelling man has developed feelings for me?

“And how does Pax fit into all of this?”

Link’s expression softens slightly. “He’s my closest confidant, my right hand. And he’s committed to taking care of you as much as I am.”

I think back to the kiss I shared with Pax, to the way he looked at me, touched me. There’s a sensual connection between us, and I’d believe he cares for me, even if I have trouble believing that about Link.

Everything has happened so fast, but I can’t deny the pull I feel toward both of them.

Before I can respond, he eases me toward him.

“This is real, little dove. And you know it.”

Intentionally he leans forward to capture my lips, seeking entry.

Unable to deny him, I open my mouth.

This isn’t the gentle, exploratory kiss from my dream. This is Link Sovereign Merritt staking his claim.

He fists my hair, holding me tight as he deepens the kiss.

I cling to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt, feeling his strength, his power.

I’m lost in the moment, in him.

Suddenly the main door to our suite opens. Then it closes with a sharp, starling click, making me pull back.

Pax stands there, arms folded, dressed in a suit. “Am I interrupting something?”