Free Twister: Party Games, Book 3 by Lexxie Couper

McDermott did everything in his life with absolute accomplishment and talent. Drive. Control global media empires. Deliver orgasms with his mouth…
    Her pussy fluttered at that last skill. Damn, could he deliver orgasms with his mouth. He could also destroy her with his mouth. With the words that fell from it.
    She shifted on her seat, watching the opulence of the Northern Beaches give way to more accessible homes and cars. She didn’t know where he was taking her. She’d refused to give him her address. Since the night she’d discovered her bodyguard straddling her, her home address was something she rarely gave out. It wasn’t that she thought Lachlan was a psychotic stalker, but old habits die hard, and the habit of keeping everything about herself private was now a very old one. When he’d asked her where she wanted to go, she’d shrugged. Be buggered if she was going to let him see how rattled the creep with the Porsche and grabby hands had made her.
    No, rattled wasn’t the word. More like petrified. She hadn’t been that scared since Andre tried to—
    “Where are we going?” she blurted, needing to kill the grim thought.
    Lachlan gave her a quick sideward glance, his lips curling with a small grin. “Not sure really. Just seeing where your car takes us.”
    Cameron frowned. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? Infuriating and sexy. It was…it was…well, infuriating.
    She swallowed a sigh. Her belly felt like a horde of butterflies was doing a frenzied dance routine inside it, but whether because of the creep or the man currently driving her beloved Mini, she didn’t know.
    Equally as infuriating.
    Turning back to her window, she tried to make her mind shift into neutral. It wouldn’t. Like a moth to a flame, it kept coming back to Lachlan. He pushed her buttons. All her buttons. Her sexual buttons—the ones she’d denied for such a long time, and her indignant buttons as well. The ones that made her prickly when someone dismissed the modeling industry like Lachlan had. Sure, no one was curing cancer or forging world peace, but it wasn’t the vacuous, pee-brained collection of skinny women most thought it was. Given the humanitarian work Lachlan’s own sister was doing with her fame, the hours dedicated to causes beyond looking gorgeous, it irked Cameron that he thought it was.
    Or maybe it was just her he had an issue with?
    “Any chance you’d like to tell me what happened back at the party?”
    His question, asked with almost off-handed calm, sent the butterflies in her stomach into overdrive. What what happened was he talking about?
    She shook her head. Better to deny all of it. “No.”
    He chuckled. “I’m talking about Mr. Pinkie-ring, by the way. Not…” He faltered, and for a split second Cameron swore she saw nervous embarrassment flash across his face. It made him look young. And innocent.
    Innocent? Was that word even appropriate? After the way he made her come again and again with just his mouth and fingers?
    Once more, her sex fluttered, all too easily remembering the masterful way he’d brought her to orgasm. God damn it, why did she have to go and think about that now?
    Again? Have you actually stopped thinking about it?
    The sudden sideward pull on her belly told her he’d steered the Mini into a sharp right and she tore her gaze away from his profile to study the dark area on the other side of her window. They were in a car park lined with massive old oak and eucalyptus trees, the blackness of the night making it impossible to see what lay beyond the asphalt.
    She swung her gaze back to Lachlan. “Where are we?”
    He didn’t answer for a moment, staring out the windscreen. “Well, there you go.” The words were a barely audible mutter, their tone as bewildered as his expression.
    Cameron frowned. “Lachlan?”
    With a shake of his head and a low chuckle, he grinned at her. “Come on.” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He opened his door and alighted from her car.