by Angel Payne
“Does three hours give you enough time to dirty up your play room and then get presentable?”
“Hmm. It’ll be tight, but I can make that work.”
“Fucking sadist.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered good-naturedly…but the thought hit, as he looked back inside and beheld the tousled, gorgeous redhead within, that right now he was the greatest masochist who ever lived.
Chapter Nineteen
Lots of glass. Lots of light. Lots of white. Mua’s mansion looked more like a place that should overlook the waters of Biscayne Bay instead of Puget Sound.
Luna squirmed atop a blinding love seat decorated with a pastel blue pillow. None of it felt right. Why did anyone in Seattle decorate their place like a hospital?
Only one answer made sense. Compensation issues. When a man’s fortune was made on filth, it made sense that his household bleach receipts matched the booze orders.
She was getting a damn headache. Her heart began to pound.
Maybe it was her common sense coming back to life.
What the hell was she doing here? Why hadn’t she seen the weakened defenses through which Mua had crawled in to get at her? Why hadn’t she told him to go fuck himself and licked her wounds from Saturday in private?
Because she hadn’t expected to be alone after Saturday. And Mua’s smooth, slick smile was better than her empty, quiet loft.
Shit, how she yearned for that loft now.
She needed to get out of here. The whack job needed to find somebody else to play in this sandbox with him.
She’d furtively started looking for a quiet way to get out of here—when Mua’s tech guy shut off the speakers that pulsed with the eighties technobabble and motioned his boss to the wall of gadgets, cameras, and speakers they all referred to as “the starship.” Luna rose too, thinking whatever suddenly captivated the freak with the teased hair and the psycho killer eyes would do the same for Mua. If she got lucky, she could turn a trip to the loo into a walk out the front door.
Two things stopped her from the follow-through. First, a glance from Mua told her if she thought about running for it, she wouldn’t be living in peace for an extremely long time to come.
Second, and much easier to swallow, tech boy cranked up the volume on the feed to which he’d been tuned. Because of that, Zeke’s voice boomed through the room.
“…are you out of your collective minds?”
A rich baritone laugh answered Z, layered over mild static that denoted a tapped phone call. Luna forced her face to remain impassive. Garrett Hawkins. The guy sounded happy for once, something she felt like smiling and sobbing about. He’d been through hell to get to his joy with his destined love. She knew that struggle well.
The conversation between the two men continued. Luna steeled every muscle in her body every time Z spoke. It wasn’t an easy task when the growls and demands he issued to his friend swooped her mind back to that magical hour they’d shared at Bastille. Her blood sang. Her pussy plumped. Every inch of her sex throbbed.
Mua slid her his I-know-what’s-going-on-in-your-panties grin before patting psycho killer on the shoulder. “Excellent work, Stephan.”
The guy chuckled as Garrett and Z wrapped their exchange with the confirmation that Zeke and Rayna would be coming back today. “The dumb shits fell for the decoy at the airport faster than orcs under a paralysis spell!”
Luna closed her eyes in order to mask her shudder. Thank fuck Mua hadn’t told her to practice her special embrace with Stephan.
“They certainly did,” the man murmured. “And now things are falling nicely into place, hmmm?”
Something in Mua’s tone pulled her eyes back open. The man’s expectant gaze awaited hers. He’d clearly directed the question at her as much as Stephan. She licked her lips fast. Her nerves still jangled, and her heart still stopped from hearing Z’s voice again. Her body never reacted this way to anyone else. She was coded for him. He had to see that. He had to.
“You’re really sure this is going to work?” She leveled it at him as a demand more than a question.
Mua’s serenity remained unchanged. “One thing I love about my work is the certainty of human psychology and the beauty in making simple plans because of it.”
She crossed her arms. “This plan is as ‘simple’ as a Mission: Impossible script, Mua.”
He matched her pose. “The plan will work, darling.”
She wondered why his assurance only made her stomach tighten. “And Zeke won’t get permanently hurt? Even if worse comes to worse, the damage will be no worse than a Taser jolt, right?”
“We’ve been over this several times, Luna.” He dipped his head, looking full of vice principal disapproval, giving her a delightful trip down the path of awful high school memories. “Have I not guaranteed that we’ll both have what we want?”
Just like all those times in the VP’s office, she craved a cigarette and compensated by squirming. Fine. For all the man’s creepy vibes, he was right. Events were happening exactly as he said they would. His insight into her teetered on scary, which didn’t make it easier to find a damn thing to like about him. But she didn’t like wheatgrass shots or cleaning out the cat box, either.
Sometimes life required a girl to suck her shit up.
“All right,” she finally conceded. “I’m in. I’m ready.”
His reassuring smile returned. “Yes, darling. You certainly are.” He moved his hand from Stephan’s shoulder to her elbow. “Your bedroom is being prepared for you. Get a good night’s sleep, lovely Luna.”
She politely slipped from his hold. There was nothing flirty about his move—she mused the psycho killer with his skinny jeans and lush hair would be in more danger—but the man’s touch still reminded her of being licked by a snake.
“You know, it’s been nice of you to put me up, but I have a comfortable place of my own. I’d get much better sleep if I were in my own bed at my loft.”
“That could be arranged.”
She flashed a hopeful stare. “It could?”
“Certainly. I’m not a monster, Luna. And you’re not a prisoner. In the interest of your safety, however, we’ll send Vadim along for the night. I’m quite certain he’d like to see your little loft.”
She moved back from him by a step, gulping against a wave of helpless anger. Damn it, she should be used to the stuff by now, but it coiled just as painfully in her stomach as the first time she’d let Mua lay out this crazy plan. But if everything worked…
When everything worked…
Zeke would be hers.
For that, she’d risk a damn ulcer.
For that, she’d let Mua plant a whole cactus garden in her stomach lining.
She raised her head and met the man’s refined gaze. Then took a huge breath. Another.
“Which way did you say my room was?”
Chapter Twenty
Rayna had never been so happy to see the gatehouse at Sage and Garrett’s place.
The drive down from the cabin had been a giant training game in the art of awkward. And awful. After Zeke filled her in on the jaw-dropping news from the call with Garrett, he’d all but ordered her into a shower so they could get on the road as soon as possible. He assured her he’d clean up downstairs and leave her alone to bathe and change. She’d gone without questioning, though stopped at the top of the flight to sneak in a peek while he wasn’t looking. She wished she hadn’t. He scrubbed the dining room table where they’d shared so much passion as if it were now a murder scene.
She’d sobbed through every minute of the shower.
Things got even weirder during the trip itself. Z went straight for the Friend Zone as soon as they hit the main road, talking back to the radio DJs with dry one-liners and even asking if she was looking forward to seeing her own bed again. She’d managed an evasive hum as a reply—while her chest imploded and her muscles constricted with the effort not to bawl all over again.
Was she supposed to think of taking another step as this new person she’d become without his touch to guide her?
The man apparently had an answer for that.
Z threw the subject into the conversation between a bouncy tune by the newest pop-folk darlings and one of her favorite wailing Halestorm songs. Talk about perfect. Or pathetic. Or both.
I like the kick in the face…
She got the rundown of the Doms at the club who’d be “ideal fits” for her.
Just know that I’ll make you hurt…
Then the list of things she’d need to go over with Sage, along with “any other pertinent questions” she had.
When you tell me you’ll make it worse…
She’d see, he told her. She’d be challenged. She’d grow. She’d be happy. And when he got back from this mission and showed up at the club again, she’d thank him for doing this for her. She’d tell him he was right about this.
She’d answered him by twisting the volume knob higher.
I don’t miss you, I miss the misery!
Maybe if she let the radio scream it loud enough, she’d believe it.
As the song ended, Z threw the Jag into park in front of Garrett and Sage’s condo.
“Yo, Fashion Sparkle Zekie! You made it!”
Garrett’s warm Iowa accent broke into their thick tension. Sage’s squee of delight pierced the air, too. Rayna looked up and smiled. Her friend’s energy was always contagious, though today Sage seemed ready to make the jump to light speed from it. Her dark blond hair was pulled into a cute, messy bun, and she wore a butter-colored sweater that enhanced the tawny glow in her skin.
“Hiiiiii!”
Sage pulled the Jag’s door open and hauled Rayna into a hug. They pulled away and looked each other over out of habit, though now it was nice to see her friend covered in happiness and a few new curves instead of bug bites and plant scratches.
“Hi, yourself,” Rayna returned. “Wow. Sweetie, you look great.”
Sage grinned. “You took the words out of my mouth. Hmmm. Maybe Zekie should haul your ass up that mountain more often.” Her smile turned into a wince as she glanced over to Z. “And while you’re there, you can find a discreet way to burn some of those shirts.”
Zeke tugged at the collar of his button-front shirt, swirled with a pattern of bright red and yellow squares separated by blue starfish. “I knew you’d like this one, Sage.”
Sage rolled her eyes and tugged Rayna toward the door. “Sure. I’m completely into the ‘Picasso meets Sesame Street’ thing.”
Rayna joined her friend in a devilish giggle. She looked back, wondering what her open taunt would incite in Z now, if anything. She hoped for anything other than the fake grin he’d been flashing since they passed Lake Stevens.
He wasn’t grinning.
He stared at her with such deep intent she wondered how a hole hadn’t burned open in the back of her head. His lips parted to reveal his locked teeth. In an instant, she was mentally back at his feet, kneeling between his legs, gazing at his face as he prepared to lower her mouth onto his body. Bound to him. Connected.
His.
She released a deep sigh. Attempted a smile.
He tightened his jaw and looked away.
She swallowed and told her heart it was time to stop beating again.
That was actually a good move, considering the scene she walked into next.
She assumed Sage and Garrett’s living room was still in here somewhere. Yards and yards of dark gold tulle were strewn everywhere. Half a dozen gold urns, at least five feet high each, stood in a sentry line in front of the fireplace. More tulle spilled from them. Hanging on a portable clothing rack near them were at least ten formal dresses in different styles, all in royal purple. On the lawn outside, overlooking the complex’s lake and swimming dock, there was a natural wood arch half-decorated in flowing bows of the same color.
“What the hell?” Zeke finally stammered. “You two having a party?”
Every female instinct in Rayna’s body shouted the correct answer to that, but this wasn’t her moment to spill. She grinned at Sage in expectant glee. The little blonde danced over to her fiancé and dipped her head against his chest, openly imploring him to drop the bomb on Z.
“Dumbass,” Garrett muttered. “We’re having a wedding.”
Zeke’s face lit up with a grin. “Serious? Now?”
“Tomorrow,” Sage supplied. “Late morning, before the snow gets here. Surprise!” After Rayna crossed to her and they exchanged a squealing hug, she added, “Now you know why we needed you two to get back here!”
“Why?”
Rayna blurted it at the same time as Z. They shared a small chuckle because of it. And damn, it felt nice. Garrett and Sage swiftly followed with bigger laughs.
“You really are a dork sometimes.” Garrett shook his head at his friend. He followed by clapping a hand to Z’s shoulder. “Hayes, you’re my best friend. You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count. So will you protect it one more time by being my best man and making sure I don’t fuck this thing up?”
Z’s face widened with a soft smile. “Fuck, yeah. I’d be honored.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled Garrett into a fierce hug.
Sage approached Rayna with a trio of playful glides. “And Sergeant Chestain, you’re my best friend. So—”
“I’d love to!” Her voice cracked with happy tears as she and Sage gripped each other tight.
Zeke erupted with a growl while fingering the fresh bandage she’d applied to his back this morning. “All right, all right, now that we’ve had the waterworks, let’s get to the fun.” He rubbed his hands together. “Grab some beers, dude, and let’s go outside to plot the bachelor party.”
“No,” Sage interjected. She poked his chest with one hand and Garrett’s with the other. “As soon as the other guys get here, you’re going to go pick up Z’s dress blues and take both sets to the dry cleaners. Make sure you expedite the cleaning. After that, you’re picking out the cake and the guest book, going to the printer for the programs, helping Garrett with the playlist for the DJ, setting up the canopy over the patio—”
They all laughed when Garrett snatched Sage by the wrist, grabbed the list she’d been reading, and gave her bottom a fast but hard smack.
“Hey! I wasn’t done!”
“Yeah, you were.” Garrett kissed her hard, his eyes turning to bright blue flames with possession.
“But—ow!” She squirmed as he dug a deep pinch into one of her ass cheeks. Beneath her breath, she seethed, “You know that hurts after this morning.”
Garrett gloated. “Uh-huh.”
Rayna, buoyed by the joyful atmosphere, couldn’t help rocking on her heels and murmuring in a singsong, “Topping from the bottom. Never a good idea.”
Sage’s stunned stare got to her first. Garrett’s was a half second behind. In tandem, they swung their looks to Zeke. Rayna twisted her lips to stifle a chuckle. She’d call him a deer in the headlights, but the analogy was all wrong for Z. By the time she decided on moose in the headlights, he was already directing a recovery grin at Sage.
“Okay, back to the important shit. You’re not the least bit interested in planning the bachelorette party, Sergeant Weston?”
At that, Sage transformed. Her friend tossed Garrett a quiet, knowing look before responding. “Not going to be one, Z.” She lifted a hand to her stomach. “Mommies have to be careful about how th
ey define party, you know.”
Rayna was certain her gape was similar to Zeke’s. “Oh my God…Sage!” She hugged her friend again. “Really?”
Zeke repeated his own embrace with Garrett. “You humping bunny bastard.”
Garrett chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, okay. But now you know why we’re rushing this thing.” He gathered Sage close and kissed her forehead tenderly. “My family needs to be protected…just in case the bad guys win on this mission.”
“Shut your hole.” Zeke whacked his shoulder. “The bad guys are going to eat our shit for breakfast. Lunch and dinner, too.”
As if cued into action by those words, there was a testosterone-filled din at the condo’s front door. Seconds later, even the tulle, the urns, and the rack of dresses couldn’t drown the potent masculinity that dominated the air. Rayna felt her chest fill with quiet pride as Z greeted his men. As usual, Tait and Kell were practically attached at the hip; it made sense since they were the sniper team of the unit. Z gave an especially tight hug to Rhett Lange, which made sense considering the guy’s technical prowess had saved Z’s life—and probably her own. Next down the line was Rebel Stafford, who more than lived up to his name with his sinful black stare and double tattooed sleeves. Finally Zeke got to Ethan Archer, who’d been trying to blend into the wall. Not likely, considering the man often passed for a model with his chiseled features and stunning blue eyes.
She stepped close to Sage. “Are they all going to be in the wedding?”
Her friend giggled. “Only Zeke. They just wanted to be here when you and Z got back. And yeah, they’ll likely coerce Garrett into some kind of a night out as his last hurrah of freedom.”
Rayna smiled, though her eyes didn’t leave Zeke. She didn’t get to watch him very often without him knowing about it. The way he appreciated each of his men, focusing intently when they spoke to him… No wonder they’d follow him into the bowels of hell if he asked.
No wonder she’d fall to her knees again for him in an instant.
“I think it’s just what he needed,” she murmured to Sage before releasing a long sigh. “I’m just so glad my brothers aren’t on their heels.”