Second Sight

by Carly Fall

  Wait. A. Fucking. Minute.

  “Just how close were you two?” His gut clenched; his skin itched. He’d suddenly become extremely uncomfortable.

  Her hand rested just above his belly button, and he energy in the room changed. Long gone was the lazy, post-coital bliss, and in its place, a large misunderstanding began to form as it grew and morphed, the awkward feeling of improper communication taking its place.

  “Well, we-we were lovers.”

  Zach sighed. “Oh, for fuck’s sakes.”

  She sat up and moved away from him. “I thought you knew.”

  He turned, propping himself up on his elbow. “How in the hell would I know something like that?”

  “I thought he would have told you when he dropped you off here, Zach.”

  He signed and flopped back down on the pillow. “No, he didn’t. I had no idea. Although, the signals were staring me in the face. I just didn’t put it all together.”

  She moved next to him again and lay her head on his shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

  How could he not have seen this coming? He should have been able to connect the dots, to figure out that the person who had hurt her had been Joe. Instead of jerking off the other night and fantasizing about Ella and her marvelous mind, he should have been looking at all the clues that had been dropped in front of him.

  It all seemed plain as day to him now.

  Dammit. He’d just broken his number one rule—he didn’t dip his stick in the pond of a man he knew, regardless of whether that man still fished in there or not.

  He yearned to run, to get space from Ella, but frankly, it felt really damn good being next to her soft body, having her curled up against him. In a nutshell, he didn’t want to leave her; yet, his sense screamed that this had turned out to be a really bad scene. How all this would play out with Joe, he simply couldn’t think about it now.

  “Zach, please don’t make this weird,” Ella whispered. “My past doesn’t matter. Please don’t shut me out because of my history with Joe. Don’t be afraid of him, or what he may do. He’s not going to do anything. I told you, he pushed me away. He doesn’t love me, or care about me anymore except what I can do to further his cause.”

  Her words felt like a million bees stinging his heart. Damn, Joe. Bastard.

  She had given herself to Zach, just as he’d done to her. There had been an intense, intimate connection where the anger, the betrayal, and the hurt they both experienced had been stripped away. The bullshit had been left at the bedroom door. They’d been raw when they’d had sex, both giving what they could, and each grasping at every caress, thrust, and kiss as if it represented a lifeline, something that would save each of them from their loneliness, and from themselves. What they’d shared had been one of the most honest and real experiences he’d ever had.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Ella.” He disengaged and rolled on top of her, his cock heavy and thick, wanting more of her tight, silky channel, more of the close connection they’d both shared. As he rocked his hips at her core, he murmured, “Except here. I’d really like to go here again.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms laced behind his neck. He sensed her desperation, her need for their connection not to be broken quite yet.

  “No one’s stopping you,” she said just before her lips met his.

  As she kissed him, he sank fully into her, marveling at the sweet splendor, the sincerity and beauty of the perfect moment they shared as their bodies met in intense intimacy.

  Chapter 18

  Ella stood from her bed and picked her robe off the floor, slipping it over her shoulders. She turned and looked at Zach.

  He slept peacefully splayed out on the mattress on his back, soft snores emanating from his open mouth.

  They’d literally stayed under the covers all day, only emerging when they’d needed food, or it had been Savannah’s mealtime or she’d needed to be let out. They’d had sex multiple times, slept, and talked. It had been one of the best afternoons of her life. She hadn’t thought of her past, given any consideration to her future, but just enjoyed the now, leaving her relaxed and renewed.

  She silently shut the door behind her and padded into the front foyer and down the hall to her office. Sitting down at her chair, she placed her head in her hands and sighed.

  Before Zach’s arrival, she’d wanted to hurt Joe as payback for the way he’d wounded her. She’d wanted him to feel pain as she had for so long in her angry, miserable state.

  What she’d done a few weeks back had seemed so sane, and such the right thing to do. Well, maybe not the right thing, but it had felt good.

  Through a stream of servers and re-routers, she’d contacted Group Nine and told them she’d be in touch with the best way to hurt Joe Smith. She didn’t want him dead, but she wanted his cause, the thing he’d tossed her aside for, to be damaged. She’d wanted him to hurt.

  They’d tried like hell to pinpoint her location, but all her preparation had paid off. Her signal had traveled all over the world from Syria, to Canada, Zimbabwe, Russia … she’d been right to assume there hadn’t been a way for them to track her. As she’d watched them try, satisfaction had rolled through her. Not only would she hurt Joe, she got to watch Group Nine scramble around like a bunch of kids jacked up on too much sugar.

  They’d agreed to her terms—she’d let them know when and where to strike at Joe’s organization, and they’d pay her two million dollars. If she didn’t deliver, they promised to hunt her down and slit her throat.

  She hadn’t seen a problem with it at the time. She’d collect the money, get a new identity, and disappear.

  The cash would buy her the freedom she craved … and it would take her away from Joe. In the meantime, his organization would suffer a debilitating blow. No, she’d prefer not to kill anyone, but she had wanted Joe hurting as much as she did. If that required the death of one of his operatives, so be it.

  She’d been a shell of a human being, the hurt and anger consuming her, eating at her soul with its negativity, just begging her to lash out at Joe.

  When Zach had arrived and she’d heard his story, she’d thought she’d found her perfect pawn, as he’d seemed special to Joe right from the beginning. She’d decided to keep her distance from Zach, find out what Joe planned for him, and then at the right moment, let Group Nine know where to get him.

  She hadn’t bargained on the fact that Zach would be a casualty of the government, just as she had been; nor did she realize how valuable he’d be. And she certainly hadn’t bet on the feelings she had developed for him.

  A sob caught in her throat, and she crossed her arms and laid her head down on the desk. Now, she couldn’t turn Zach over to Group Nine … she simply couldn’t. He’d given her things she thought she’d never see again—hope, pride, the need to be touched by another human being. He’d broken down her walls, penetrated her body and mind, and she’d enjoyed every blessed second of it.

  Her computer beeped, and she glanced up. A message from Group Nine flashed on the screen, asking for updates on when and where they could strike.

  They couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Zach.

  Resolve running through her, she decided she would fix this mess she’d gotten herself into. How she didn’t know, but she would.

  It’s not a good time, she typed. I don’t have what you want quite yet.

  You have until the end of the week before we start looking for you. We’ve been patient, but your time to deliver has come. Don’t make us put any effort into finding you … if we haven’t already. It’s not a nice feeling to wake while someone slices your throat – or so I’ve been told.

  She re-read the threat, her resolve growing.

  After powering off the computer, she checked the doors to make sure they were locked. She set the alarm and went back into her bedroom. Letting the robe fall to the floor, she climbed back into the bed next to Zach.

  He pulled
her close, her back flush with his chest. It felt right and perfect, and she knew she lay where she belonged.

  A tear trickled down her check.

  Oh, God.

  What had she done?

  Chapter 19

  Zach woke the next day and stretched his legs out on the bed. Although he had a cramp in his right bicep, at this point, he simply wouldn’t let go of Ella. She felt too good against him. Hell, he didn’t even want to get up and pee.

  Yesterday and last night had been something he’d never experienced before. There had been a distinct connection with Ella that frightened him, but it made him happy. She knew his secrets and weaknesses; yet, she’d welcomed him into her bedroom and had never asked him to leave. He’d even suggested he go to his own room at some point in the night, and she’d made it empathically clear she didn’t want that to happen.

  So he’d stayed.

  She flipped over so they lay chest to chest. He loved the feeling of her soft breath against his neck, the light smell of lilacs that penetrated his nose. He pulled her close, the blood rushing for his groin. This woman made him crazy.

  His finger trailed down the left side of her face, feeling the thick welt and the mottled skin around it.

  She flinched away from him.

  “I’m sorry, does that hurt?”

  “No, not physically,” she answered, her voice thick with sleep. “Touching it just reminds me that it’s there.”

  His hand fell to her shoulder, and he slowly leaned in and kissed her scar. “And it’s there. So what?”

  “It’s ugly, Zach. It’s completely unattractive, and it represents unhappy times for me.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “For someone who’s so damn smart, I’m surprised that you just can’t figure it out.”

  “What? What am I supposed to figure out?”

  He ran his hand over her shoulder again and down her arm. He cupped her ass and pulled her closer to him. “I can’t see it, Ella. It’s not even a consideration for me.”

  Running his hand through her hair, he kissed her forehead. “Now this … this wonderful mind that knows how to nurse someone back to health, can hack into computers, and likes to study the history of a lost civilization in the middle of some fucking desert? Now that turns me on.”

  He palmed her breast, feeling her nipple harden beneath his touch. “These are pretty awesome, as well.”

  Slowly, he traced up her shoulder, feeling the protruding collarbone and the column of her slender neck. He felt the scar as his fingers met her jaw. “But this? This isn’t anything to me. Even if I could see it, I told you, I’m so turned on by your intellect. I’ve seen you once in my mirror, and you were pretty, but you don’t seem to agree with me. That’s fine. We all have our insecurities.”

  He tapped her forehead with his index finger. “And this? This is sexy as all hell. This, sweet Ella, is what fucking turns me on. It makes me hard. I’m what’s called a sapiosexual. The more you talk, the more you tell me what you know, the more you surprise me and enlighten me with your knowledge, the more I want you.”

  He found her mouth, and their tongues danced together slowly. He rolled to his back, taking her with him. How he loved imagining her face as she straddled him, riding his cock to the tempo that made him come with such force, he wanted to scream in pleasurable pain.

  As he lost himself in the scent of sex and lilacs, her skin feeling so soft against his, he realized he’d be happy if he never had to leave this bed again. She placed him at her hot core and slid down his shaft, engulfing him in her sweet warmth. He groaned as he pushed his hips upward, wanting to go as deep as he possibly could.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  “Dammit,” she whispered as she began to get off of him.

  He grabbed her hips and held her in place. “No. Ignore it.”

  “We can’t, Zach.”

  “Why not?”

  She fully disengaged from him and got off the bed. “Because it’s Joe. I didn’t realized how late we’d slept, but it’s after noon. He’d said he be here around now.”

  “Oh, hell. Are you kidding me? If you go open that door, Joe will be on the other side?”

  “Yes.”

  A slight surge of panic went through him, but then his more practical side took over. “Let me get to my bedroom. Savannah!”

  He heard her whine when she stood next to him. “I’ll get in the shower while you wait to answer the door. Greet him in your robe and tell him you’ve been sick and haven’t seen me.”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled on his jeans and hastily grabbed the rest of his clothes, hoping he got them all.

  The doorbell rang again as he passed the front door and then made his way to the other side of the house, hurriedly counting his steps. When he reached his room, he stepped inside and gently shut the door and leaned his head against the pane.

  “Hi, Joe,” Ella greeted him, the sound of her voice floating over.

  “Ella, how are things going?”

  “Fine, I guess. I’ve been sick, so I’ve been cooped up in my bedroom.”

  “You’ve been sick?”

  Zach heard the concern in Joe’s voice, making his spine tingle. Joe still cared for her, and that bugged him because he wanted Ella for himself.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  “Why is that?”

  A long pause ensued.

  “Because, frankly, I don’t think I’ve seen you look as good as you do in quite a few months.”

  She huffed. “That’s so like you.”

  Zach stepped away from the door, not needing to hear the rest of the argument. He grinned as he got in the shower, but worry coursed through his veins as he washed Ella's scent off of him.

  It was apparent that Joe recognized the glow of a properly fucked woman when he saw her, and Zach wondered what that meant for him.

  A few moments later, he stepped out of the the shower and dried off, his cock still hard. Damn Joe for interrupting them. Could he have showed up at a worse time?

  After slipping on his jeans and t-shirt, he pulled on his boots, then went back into the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, he gazed into the mirror.

  Ella stood in the middle of a bedroom in a black, silk gown. It whisked down her body, brushing her curves and leaving just a little bit to the imagination. A slash of fabric went over her left shoulder, leaving the other one bare. It reminded of him of a Greek Goddess-style dress he'd seen in the old Cleopatra movies.

  She looked gorgeous with her dark hair pulled to the left, cascading down to her shoulder. Her eyes appeared vibrant and alive, her smile genuine.

  The scene changed, and he saw the gun again, leading him to believe it would be very important in his future.

  The next image, he’d also seen before—a hot tub—but this time, he got a little more detail.

  The bubbling pool of water seemed to be in some type of cave, or a grotto, steam filling the small space. Small flickering lights glittered on the ceiling, about ten feet up. The water looked dark but not ominous; more relaxing than anything else. How would that little slice of heaven play into his life? He grinned at the naughty possibilities that went through his mind.

  Of course, it could also be the place he met his death, but the salacious thoughts proved to be far more fun than thinking about his demise.

  After running a brush through his hair, he took a deep breath and hoped his facial features didn’t convey to Joe that he’d just screwed his former lover.

  He grabbed Savannah’s halter, then whispered,. “Let’s do this, girl. Don’t you go and tell Joe any of my secrets, okay?”

  Certain she understood, he opened the door, went out to the hallway, and made his way to the kitchen, finding the house shrouded in silence.

  “Hello, Zachary,” Joe said, his voice just a little bit different than usual.

  “Hi, Joe. How’r
e things?”

  “I’m well, thank you. Busy, but everything is going fine.”

  “Garrett okay?”

  Joe chuckled. “Yes, he took a bullet, but he’s recovering nicely.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Speaking of bullets, I see that Ella hasn’t put any into you.”

  Zach felt around for a stool and sat down. “Nope. We’ve co-existed without any violence, but I haven’t seen her in quite a while. I knocked on her bedroom door, but she said she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “That’s what she told me.”

  “So, she’s up?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess that’s a good sign.”

  “I supposed so. She went to get dressed, and then I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Great. Can I get you something?”

  After a beat of silence, Joe said, “No. It seems the coffee has been sitting here since this morning. The pot is still full. Were you not up until later, either, Zach?”

  He grinned. “I did sleep in today. Savannah kept me up last night with some stomach issues. She had me up and down all night long.”

  It seemed plausible to him, as it had happened before, and more than once. When her digestive track got out of whack, the gas had been enough to make his eyes water, and the ensuing mess had been awful.

  Joe chuckled. “I had a dog when I was young. I remember those problems. You want to help the poor beast, but at the same time, you wish it would just go away.”

  “Exactly.”

  The room fell silent as they waited for Ella. What the hell was taking her so long?

  Finally, he heard her walking across the tile, cut across the dining room, and into the kitchen. He smelled shampoo—something tropical and fruity, and her own lilac scent. Strange that a woman could naturally smell like a flower, but she did.

  “Okay, Joe. What do you want?’ she asked as she took the stool one over from Zach.

  “Well, hello, stranger,” Zach said. “I wasn’t sure if you had died in there. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”