I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1)

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I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1) Page 15

by Jessica Frances


  “How? By blowing it up?” I shout, sounding more than a little hysterical. I take deep breaths to try to calm down.

  “Yeah, and by also making it a crime scene. If the evidence was destroyed in the process, then better for them.”

  “How can you be so calm about this?” I demand, my voice sounding shrill. “You were nearly blown up! Why the hell were you taking so long with it all? If you had given the USB up already, they wouldn’t have been after you!” I’m flat-out yelling now.

  “Ava, you don’t understand. I—”

  “I don’t care!” I cut him off. “This is too dangerous. Van nearly lost you!” I accuse, grabbing my hair and pulling hard, closing my eyes as I whisper to myself, “What the hell was I thinking?”

  “This isn’t your fault. None of this is—”

  “The hell it isn’t!” I can’t hold myself back, even knowing this isn’t the time or the place to be having this argument. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me! I wish I had never stolen your car. I wish I had never met you. I wish Brian would have just finished me off so this could all be over!”

  I barely have the last word out before Zander storms fully into the bathroom, backing me up against the wall and boxing me in as he slaps his hand hard against the wall beside my head. Van is still gripping him, so his badass look is a little hindered, but the fury written over his face is still enough to scare me.

  “Don’t say that. Don’t you fucking say that! Clarke is a piece of shit, who needs to be brought down. This whole fucking network of sick fucks needs to be taken down. Every victim deserves justice, and without you getting that USB and getting it into the right hands, no justice will come for those women. No justice will come for the women who will be taken in the future. This is the break we needed, and because of it, we’re going to save countless lives. So, don’t you ever regret what you did. I don’t regret a single second.”

  I’m taken aback by his words, but it doesn’t ease my guilt.

  “It was all for nothing, though. Your office … it’s all gone,” I whisper sadly, unable to clear my voice to speak louder.

  “It’s not all gone. I didn’t have it at my office. The evidence is still safe.”

  “It is?” I gasp, unsure how I feel about this. Will there be more bombs, then?

  “Yes.”

  “But I …” I trail off as I realize what he means.

  Jerry. He’s talking about Jerry.

  I feel a small amount of relief that it wasn’t all for nothing, but I’m still devastated and terrified.

  “I’m sorry about everything. I know it was the right thing to do, but I just … I hate what is happening to you both. I hate this whole situation.” Tears fall down my face, and my voice cracks from the emotion and guilt eating away at my insides.

  All those things combined is enough to distract me, which is why I don’t even see it coming when Zander leans forward and captures my lips with his own.

  It isn’t soft, it isn’t sweet, and it definitely isn’t romantic. It’s feral, and brutal, and bruising. But somehow, it is everything I need, taking away my thoughts and fears, and replacing them with heat and the beginning of desire.

  I’m alive. Zander is alive.

  All too quickly, though, Zander pulls away, both of us breathing heavy and my knees shake in their effort to keep me standing.

  Wow, my first kiss from Zander, and it was incredible.

  Then Van makes a noise, and we both glance down at him. He’s still hugging his brother and seeming to show no indication that he plans on changing that anytime soon.

  Zander doesn’t look back at me as he touches Van’s head. “We can’t stay here. We need to move. Van, I need you to let go.”

  Van doesn’t move one iota, and since Zander is standing in front of me still, I don’t move, either.

  “Van, we need to get out of here. Let go of me.”

  He shakes his head into Zander’s waist, an exaggerated shake that only further breaks my heart.

  “Okay, buddy, how about you hug my neck instead? You don’t have to let go, but move your arms up.”

  To make this easier, Zander bends over, and Van shuffles his arms so he’s hugging Zander’s neck. Then, proving just how strong he is, Zander stands up, lifting Van and wrapping an arm around him to support him and probably to take a little pressure off his neck.

  “Let’s go,” he tells me, holding his free hand out to me.

  We make our way out of the now crowded church, which looks like it’s being set up as some sort of base camp, to outside where Declan has a car parked and is waiting for us.

  We are far enough away from the drama that the roads aren’t yet gridlocked or closed off, but it probably won’t be long before they are.

  We all scoot into the backseat, and Declan barely waits for the door to shut before he takes off.

  I stare out the window, watching the world go by quickly and trying to not freak out. However, between nearly being caught by Brian, having Zander’s office destroyed by a probable bomb, and then that intense kiss, I don’t think I can hold off from having some sort of breakdown.

  I lift my hand to touch my bruised lips while unwittingly turning to stare at Zander, seeing he already has his eyes on me.

  He’s not smiling. He’s not looking at me with kindness or sympathy. He looks intense, his eyes on my fingers as I brush them over my lips.

  Before I can move them away, he rests his free hand on my thigh, his grip tight. He then brushes the inside of my thigh, his touch so close to my crotch that I hold my breath, waiting to see if he intends to do more.

  He doesn’t. He leaves his weight there as though he is a brand that is claiming me. Like his touch is keeping me from floating away and ensuring my thoughts stay right here instead of drifting off somewhere more dangerous.

  Van is still wrapped around Zander, but his arms hang loosely now as he peers out the window instead of buried in Zander’s clothes. It breaks my heart to see Van so vulnerable, so upset.

  I look away from them, glancing back out the window at the passing scenery. I have no idea where we are going, and I’m not sure I care.

  Will anywhere be safe for us? Will this be over soon?

  As it turns out … Brian still has one more play left.

  Chapter 9

  We are taken to a home that I’m told Sasha’s parents own. If going by the size of this house and how beautifully furnished it is, Sasha must have a rich family. Apparently, this is one of many properties they own in Chicago.

  Zander thinks we will be safe here.

  When Sasha attempts to check out his injuries, he slaps her hands away, his body jostling a now sleeping Van who is still in his arms.

  “I’m fine,” he hisses.

  “You’re not fine! You have bruises everywhere, and … Is that glass in your hair?” she snaps, not at all deterred by him pushing her back as she continues to coddle him.

  I look more closely and realize there does appear to be glass in his hair. Given the visible bloodstains on his back, there is a good chance he might have some imbedded there, too.

  Just how close was he when the building blew up?

  “Shit, I hope we have fucking bomb insurance,” Declan mutters as he passes by us and moves straight into the kitchen, opening the fridge door and searching inside.

  “Feel free to make yourself at home!” Sasha snaps at him, muttering under her breath that he’s an asshole.

  “I’m going to put Van down,” Zander mutters, striding away from us and heading down the hall. He only makes it a few steps before he turns around and looks back at me. “Ava, come with me.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he heads back down the hallway.

  I only spare Sasha a quick glance, seeing her smirk, before I rush after him.

  I find him in a bedroom, laying Van down carefully. He exhausted himself to sleep. I hope he can get as much rest as possible. We went through enough stressful situations to make me want to slip into a
coma, and I’m an adult. I can’t imagine how Van is coping.

  Zander pulls his shoes off, as well as his socks, before readjusting the sheets from under him and draping them over his prone body.

  “He looks so small,” I whisper, feeling panicked again at how close we were to being caught at Zander’s apartment.

  What would they have done to Van if they caught us together? Would they have let him live? Would they have killed him?

  “With me,” Zander growls, his voice quiet but still intense, as he stomps past me.

  Nerves begin to assault me as I follow. Am I in trouble? Maybe he’s still angry about what I said back in the church bathroom. Or maybe he’s angry that we kissed. He probably regrets it. He probably wants to clear the air that it was a mistake, made in the heat of the moment, and that we should just pretend that it never happened.

  When I follow him into a new bedroom, this one just as clean and sterile as the previous one, I watch as he stomps his way into the adjoining bathroom, removing his T-shirt as he goes. I catch a glimpse of his cuts before he’s out of my view, worry eating at me from seeing them.

  He probably needs me to get out any glass that is still stuck there. If he’s specifically being targeted now, it isn’t like he can go to a hospital to get checked out.

  Stepping into the bathroom, I don’t get a chance to check out my surroundings, except to see that the bruising over Zander’s face carries down his chest, before he stalks me, knocking my back into the shower screen.

  “Zander …” I begin, having no idea what I planned to say once he roughly grabs my face and crashes his lips down on mine.

  He kisses me passionately, melding his tongue with my own as my whole body heats up under his touch.

  I rest my hands over his arms, sliding along them before I move them down over his chest, forgetting about his bruises for a moment.

  Without warning, he moves his hands away from my face, grabs my hips and lifts me, pressing his hard groin against my overheated core. I groan as he rubs his stiffness against me and automatically move my legs to wrap around his hips.

  He moves us until my back hits the bathroom door, closing it with a loud slam. Then I am shoved against it, the jolt causing his erection to rub against me in the most delicious way.

  He pulls away from my mouth, but he doesn’t move far, his breath still skating over me, just as mine does to him, both of us breathless and panting.

  “I thought I lost you. When you called me, I couldn’t … I fucking couldn’t …” he gasps out, lowering his eyes for a moment as he digs harder into the sides of my hips.

  “I thought I lost you, too,” I admit, just as out of breath as he is. “When the call cut off, I thought your battery died. Then we made it to your office. It … It was such a mess, and … I couldn’t see how you … I-I was s-sure you were dead,” I cry, my own voice shaking now as those same emotions hit me all over again.

  “Your call saved my life. I was sprinting from the building to get to you. I made it outside when the explosion happened,” he explains, gazing at me intently. “I was thrown against a car, but I couldn’t stop thinking … I had to get to you guys. I had to stop that bastard from touching you.”

  “He didn’t get to us,” I reassure him as his eyes glaze over, back in time, reliving his fears.

  “Every fucking video I’ve watched, every woman I’ve seen tortured, played over in my mind. I couldn’t get your face off them. You were all I could see, and I knew what would happen if he had you. I can’t let him touch you. I can’t let you go.” His husky voice cracks, and my heart squeezes painfully for him.

  I reach down and grab his left hand from my hip, dragging it up to rest over my chest. “Feel that, Zander? I’m alive. We got out,” I declare, knowing my heart is beating a million miles an hour and there is no way he can’t feel it.

  “I promised to protect you,” he says, not moving his hand and pushing his hips harder against me so my back is flat against the door.

  “And you did. You told me to get out. You kept me calm, and we got away.”

  “But it could have so easily gone wrong. You should have been safe there.” He sounds self-reproaching.

  “This will all be over soon.” I lift my hands to his face, careful of where he appears to be hurt. “You said that. We can make it just a little bit longer.”

  “I don’t think I can go through that again …” He is whispering now, his husky voice full of emotion.

  “You won’t. They might have known where we were before, but they don’t have a clue now. We’re safe, right?”

  “We’re safe,” he affirms, finally moving his hand from my chest and up over my shoulder, over my neck, and then cupping my face. “I want you so badly.”

  His words cause my breath to hitch and desire to pool low in my belly. I already guessed as much, but hearing his words, listening to them echo inside my head, sets off a chain reaction I can’t stop.

  I have wanted him since the first time I laid eyes on him.

  I kiss him just as savagely as he kissed me, squeezing my legs around him and enjoying the feel of the jolt that rushes through him, causing him to rub against me again.

  We stay in this embrace for a while, but it’s still too soon when he pulls away, looking me in the eyes. I read his desire all over him. Can he see the same in me?

  “Are you sure you want this?”

  “Yes.” I finally sound confident. There is no doubt in my mind I want this, as well as need it.

  He doesn’t ask twice, dropping me back down to my feet before dragging my shirt up over my head. I appreciate the fact he doesn’t waste time.

  Within seconds, he gets me completely naked, and after grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling out a condom, which he leaves resting on the vanity next to us, I help divest him of his jeans and briefs.

  Both completely naked, we stand slightly apart for a moment, breathing heavily and taking each other in.

  Apart from the fresh bruises and cuts I see, there are also a few scars and something I didn’t notice earlier is the fine hair over his chest leading downward and smothering his erection. His entire body is hard and strong. His muscles appear huge and bulging.

  I’m not sure I have ever felt this turned on before. At least, not from just gazing at a man. From the way he is growing harder, the way his breathing is deepening, I have to assume he feels the same way about me as he stares over my body. His eyes on me feel like he is physically touching me.

  Part of me knows this moment, what is to come between us, is another huge moment in my life where things will change. Another shift in the course my life is moving toward. But I know with all my heart it is the right decision.

  This coupling with Zander isn’t supposed to be something sweet, something romantic, or deeply meaningful. This is about desire and need, and proving to ourselves that we are both still here, both alive, and no one will take that away from us.

  Just as this feeling hits me, something similar must hit Zander, because we lunge at each other at the same time.

  I wrap my arms around his neck as he grips my hips and lifts me, just as our mouths come together again. Our teeth clash, our tongues duel, and our bodies slap together as he shoves me back against the door again. Then he snakes his hand under me and, with no forewarning, shoves two fingers inside me. I clench around him as I scream into his mouth.

  He makes fast time of working me. My mind can only focus on his fingers as he speeds me closer and closer to what I need before he takes them away. Then he reaches out, grabbing the condom. But before he can do anything with it, I snatch it out of his hands.

  Using my teeth, I tear the edge off the wrapper before lowering my hands between us. He leans back a little so I have space and grips my hips again to keep me still.

  I tease him a little, touching him for the first time and rubbing the head with my thumb. He growls, moving his mouth forward so he can nip at my shoulder, the action causing a thrill to rush over
me.

  Delaying this not only teases him, but me, as well, so I make quick work, encasing him. Then, in one hot thrust, he is inside me.

  I stretch to accommodate him, the feeling borderline stuck between pleasure and pain. But then he starts to move and the pleasure overrides.

  I need him to move faster. I need him to own me, to destroy me.

  He removes his teeth from my shoulder, licking to the crease at my neck, where he sucks hard. Meanwhile, I move my nails down his arms, digging in as I repurchase them at his shoulders.

  He keeps sucking along my body while continuously slamming my back against the door. Then he makes his way to my lips, removing one hand from my side to graze over a nipple before he pinches it.

  The sensations of pain from my nipple and my back are a perfect match to the rhythm of how he is pushing in and out of me and the seduction of my mouth. Sex has never felt so intense, so passionate.

  I already feel my orgasm building inside me, desperate to reach that peak. I don’t often manage it during sex, and definitely never after such a quick moment of foreplay. I also have never been as turned on before, and Zander is hitting all the right buttons. If he can carry me over the edge, I know for certain I will have never come so hard in my life.

  Zander leans back from me a little, and I can’t stop my whimper, worrying over why he’s slowing down.

  No! I was so close!

  Then he lifts me a little higher, and as soon as I sink down onto him, I find this new angle rubs against my clit with every thrust. It is incredible.

  I have no idea what I’m crying out at every pass over my clit. I could be reciting every swear word I know in every language for all I care. I just need him to keep going, and he doesn’t disappoint.

  It only takes a few more thrusts, another pinched nipple, and a nip at my ear before I’m exploding.

  I cry out his name, my voice not at all quiet, while he continues to thrust, telling me yes, as he drags my release even longer.

  I actually feel another release go through me, this one smaller, but no less thrilling, as he finally comes inside me, shouting out my name as he plants himself inside me one final time.

 

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