Free Wicked Game: a Billionaire Stepbrother Romance by Bella Scully Page B

Damien’s feet in the garage greeted me as I froze in the doorway.  He turned and grinned at my stunned expression.
    “Like it?”
    “Sports car?” I groaned.
    “They’re quieter.  Good for sneaking around.”
    “We wouldn’t have to sneak around if we showed up during open hours like normal human beings.”
    “Normal is boring.  Besides, we’ll leave a couple thousand in the donation box.”  I flinched at the casual way he said that.  It was starting to get to me, the way he threw money around.  It reminded me of all those weekends with Dad, eating nothing but ramen because that’s all we could afford, even with his consultant job at the museum.  “We can’t go out during the day, the paps would be on our ass the entire time.  This will give us more time to really appreciate it.”
    I couldn’t argue with that.  I loved being anywhere the paparazzi weren’t.
    Reluctantly, I slipped into the passenger’s seat, overwhelmed by the smell of fresh leather and the hint of Damien’s cologne.  His gaze flitted over me, lingering on the way my black shirt clung to my curves.  I swallowed against the lump in my throat, pretending looks like that didn’t affect me.  I had to stop feeling this way.  Even if Damien was suddenly playing nice.  Even if some small part of me was remembering why I fell in love with him in high school.
    He stuck a pair of shining silver keys in the ignition.  
    “And besides,” he added, his grin glinting in the moonlight.  “It’s more fun this way.”
    “You mean more dangerous.”
    “Same thing, wifey.”
    He put his foot down on the gas, and I was thrown back into my seat as we soared through the gate.  
    “Damien!” I yelped.  
    He chuckled in response, rolling his eyes like he hadn’t almost snapped my neck.  
    Holy shit.  I had never been in one of these things.  My nails dug into the seat as my heart thundered in my chest.  Even that car of Bernard’s we hijacked in high school hadn’t been the deadly torpedo this demon was.  We shot through the night, invisible as the sleek black car sank into the night.
    By the time we made it to the museum, I had mostly recovered from my heart attack.
    He helped me out of the car and waited like a gentleman as I soothed my turning stomach with deep breaths.  I had already thrown up once today.  I fixed my eyes on the concrete sidewalk we stood on, flooded with the streetlight above us.  
    Finally better, I glanced up at the dim brick building above us.  
    GARRISON EGYPTOLOGY MUSEUM
    God, that sign brought back memories.
    Damien’s hands rested on my shoulders, snapping me out of it.  “I managed to find my old lock picking kit from high school,” he said cheerfully.
    “Of course you did.”
    “We won’t be using it though.  The security here is too good for it.  I hired someone to counterfeit some keycards for us, so getting in should be no problem.  But first close your eyes.  Your real surprise is waiting inside for you.”
    “Oh hell no.”
    “Trust me.”
    “Damien, there is no way in hell—”
    His hands clapped over my eyes.  I flailed against the sudden blindness, and my body fell back against his.  His strong arms closed around me, protecting me from knocking myself over and splitting my head on the sidewalk.  
    If froze.  It felt too good, moving against the warm muscles of his chest… and other body parts.  
    “Ready?” he asked, his warm breath against my ear.
    Fine.  Jesus.  Just stop feeling so good.
    “Yes.”
    I stumbled forward with his arms around me, feeling the strong muscles of his chest moving against my back and his hips pushing mine forward.  Oh God, why did that feel so good?  A few clicks and beeps from the keycard security system sounded near my ear, and the doors opened with a squeak.  He moved us forward, guiding me by the shoulders and the protective shield of his body through the doors and into the cold, sterile air of the museum.
    “Watch your