by Lisa Hughey
Now.
Zeke finally acceded to my urging. He rolled over so that he hovered over top of me. His cock rubbed at my slick lips, and I arched my hips, begging for him. Then he stopped. Held still.
No. No. No. I tugged on his hips. He propped over me and looked desperately into my eyes. His blue eyes were glazed pools.
“Condom?” he gutted out.
My eyes went round. My body still throbbed and I could have cried. Of course I didn’t have a condom. I shook my head mutely.
Zeke let his head drop, his curls nearly brushing my jaw. His body jerked, and his head came up. “I might have one.”
He jumped up, and made a beeline for his duffel bag. His body was a study in masculine excellence. Long ropy muscles, round glutes, shoulders that could hold the world. He dug through his bag and then lifted his fist in triumph. He grinned widely. “I have one!”
His obvious pleasure convinced me that he was as into this as I was.
I lay on the cool cotton sheets, my body open and exposed. I should be embarrassed, nervous, at my vulnerability but instead an inner peace stole over me. This was right.
Zeke strode back to the bed. From the nest of blond curls at his groin, his erection jutted, long and thick with a bulbous head, blue veins pulsed. His body rippled with muscle, and my breath stopped in my lungs at how absolutely beautiful he was.
He tore the package open as he came over me. He stopped, his gaze traveled from my toes up to meet my eyes, and his sincere appreciation overlay with lust caused me to flush.
“You’re perfect,” he uttered as he pressed his beautiful body on top of mine. I stared into his ocean blue eyes and wanted to get lost in him. He just lightly penetrated my slit, the contact slick and bold, but he didn’t come inside, he just rubbed my clit and along the wet opening, teasing me. My whole body arched, as I silently begged him to penetrate me.
My sex clutched at the head of his cock, as I thrashed and grabbed onto his firm ass and tried to pull him inside.
Finally, he slid home. There was no barrier, nothing that made his entry difficult. The pain was minimal. He felt incredible.
Goddess, he was big. A thick intrusion, full and deep, as he pushed in to the hilt. The sensation was indescribable. As if he were splitting me in two and at the same time making me whole. My entire body shivered in response to his penetration.
But I needed something more.
He held still as if savoring the clasp of my sex around his erection. Then finally he began to move. He slid nearly all the way out, hitting spots along the way that sizzled through my entire body. I began to shake, my limbs buzzed and my head went light as he rocked in and out of me.
Sensation, overwhelming and dizzying swelled through me, then like the wave that took him out last night, thundered over me and I tumbled into orgasm. Rocked, buffeted, battered with sensation, and emotions I hadn’t seen coming as I shattered into fragments of consciousness.
Zeke exploded at the same time. His body went rigid, neck arched, hips jammed against mine, as his erection pumped against my inner walls.
I hadn’t expected this. This feeling of connection, of being in total sync with another person. I was euphoric, riding on a wave of endorphins so thick that I could convince myself that this wasn’t a one off, that we could build something together, become something together.
My heart thudded against my breastbone. Against Zeke’s thick chest as he collapsed over me. Still buried deep. His body was heavy and yet comforting, as if the world would have to go through him to get to me.
And that thought was enormously appealing.
Twenty-Four
October 21
7:00 am
San Luis Obispo, CA
I woke naked.
That fact was so surprising that I lay still, absorbing, remembering. The slightly rough rub of hotel cotton sheets against my bare skin sensitized me, made me aware of my body in ways I never had been before. I ached pleasantly, my skin tingled and my hair was tangled around my head and Zeke’s muscled forearm. He had his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as if anchoring me to him so I couldn’t go anywhere. And I liked it.
I was snuggled up against his body, my back to his front, and his morning erection prodded my butt.
I was a virgin no longer. The thought made me smile. Big. Bigger than big.
Last night had been one of the best of my life. With only one condom, we’d had to get creative. And boy did Zeke get creative. His slightly OCD tendencies had manifested in very thorough methods of sexual exploration. I’d fulfilled about a thousand fantasies in the last twelve hours.
Happy Birthday to me.
Last night was the best present I could have ever hoped for beyond being able to live without fear of my stepfather. A warmth filled me and I realized how long it had been since I’d done something just for me.
It had been amazing. Awesome. Crazy good.
But as the light flowed through the gap in the blackout curtain, I realized that my night of indulging myself, of taking what I wanted, what I needed, was over. Time to return to reality.
And reality sucked.
A sick dread trickled through me. While last night had been fantastic, my problems had not disappeared. They were all still waiting for me. Hovering like buzzards over the carcass of a dead sea lion washed up on the shore.
But I would always have last night. Every single second of my sexy times with Zeke was imprinted on my brain. I could take the memories out and relive the sensations and feelings in the late of night when insomnia was my enemy and I had no one to turn to.
I knew what my life was and what I could have and Zeke Hawthorne was not it.
He was a going to be a memory. A cherished, surreal memory that I would hold tight to and that no one, not even John Stanley, could take away.
Up to this point, Stanley had taken everything from me. I wasn’t ever going to be able to make more memories until John Stanley was one. I just had to figure out how to make that happen.
***
Zeke woke to the unexpected warmth of a body spooned with his. Sunshine’s scent, ocean and cucumber, crisp and fragrant wrapped around his senses and intertwined with the musk from their night of sex. Her rounded butt cradled his morning wood. This was a most excellent way to wake up.
Her long black hair draped over his chest and wrapped around his bicep tightly like her vulnerability had wrapped around his heart.
He was painfully aware that he’d fallen into serious crush mode. He was drawn to her. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done this before. He had a habit of falling for women, especially the ones he slept with, but as easily as he fell in, he fell out, usually about the same time they decided they were done with him. And they were usually done with him once his geek-meter kicked in and either they didn’t understand him or they thought he was weird.
Her curves were soft beneath his arm, and he savored this moment, understanding that this connection between them likely wouldn’t last. His family was cursed. He knew that.
And hell yes, he knew it was illogical, but it was also true. His grandma had left his Grandpop in the fifties. In the fifties. Back when no one got divorced, and she left grandpa to raise their son, his dad. Who did that happen to?
His mom left his dad, and him, as soon as Zeke was born. And his sex life, romantic life, up until this point would be considered anemic.
He knew it was an anomaly, considering his analytical, scientific brain, but a tiny part of him really believed that the Hawthorne men were cursed. At least it felt like it.
Her ribs expanded as she breathed in deep and curled her fingers to mesh with his and she pulled his hand to rest under her cheek. His heart warmed at the unconscious intent to twine them together and the gentle, innocent gesture.
Innocent.
She’d been a virgin.
The silk of her hair slid over his body, bringing his mind back to their creative play because he’d only had one condom. Something he planned on rectifying
as soon as possible so he could get inside her again.
After he’d gone down on her, to satisfied cries of pleasure, she’d returned the favor, sucking his cock and learning to give him a blow job with joyful inventiveness. Her hair had feathered against his groin and thighs.
He hardened even further, his cock ready for a repeat of the previous night. His morning erection pulsed against her butt as if saying, “notice me, notice me,” and she wiggled back against him nonverbally indicating she’d be up for another round. He certainly was.
Except, no condom. Dammit.
He was still thanking the Universe that he’d had one in his bag. He wondered if she’d mind if he ran to the hotel sundry store. Even this little strip hotel should have a small shop open during the day and stocked with hangover cures and protection options for random sexual encounters.
Before he could do more than kiss the sweet curve where her neck met her shoulder, Darth Vader’s theme song emitted from his phone and broke the sexual spell that wound around them.
And crap, he wanted to ignore his phone. But he couldn’t. The intimate moment was over anyway.
“I need to answer that.” His voice was husky, his throat raw.
She nodded and released his fingers. She curled her body into a tighter ball and buried her head under the sole pillow still on the bed.
Zeke reluctantly rolled away from Sunshine, his right arm cradled her body, and he reached with his left hand over to the nightstand to grab his phone. He pressed the answer button on his encrypted cell. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” Carson said.
Zeke frowned. Darth Vader was not Carson’s ring tone. And this call was coming from an unrestricted number.
“For what?”
“You’re going to be formally charged.”
Zeke’s heart stopped. The silence in the thick accusing air was absolute.
“What—” He licked his lips, tried to corral his careening thoughts, but he was having trouble making the shift from warm, sexy female and post-coital morning erection to the utter destruction of his career, his life. “With what?”
Zeke yanked his arm from underneath Sunshine and shoved out of the bed. His entire body was stiff, tight, angry as he turned his back on the absolutely wrecked bed. The pillows and bedspread were strewn across the hotel room floor like confetti after New Year’s Eve, except there’d be no celebration here.
“Treason,” Carson replied. “Under the Patriot Act, they can get away with quite a bit.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Sharing a computer program with scientists is hardly an act of terrorism.” Zeke tried to mentally assimilate Carson’s bomb. But he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around anything. Random thoughts floated in his head, unable to coalesce into a solid picture or cohesive reason why Carson’s announcement was wrong. He couldn’t seem to mount an argument. Couldn’t force his brain to process. Only one thought penetrated the fog. Treason. This was way bigger than his prior worry that he’d go to jail for hacking. The threat that had hung over his head since he started at the NSA now seemed trivial.
“I’m fucked.” He scooped a handful of hair into his fist and tugged hard. Trying to wake up and make sense of everything.
Carson didn’t respond, which was in itself a response. “I’m giving you this heads up.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. His entire adult life, Carson had looked out for him. Since the accident that killed his grandfather, he’d been a figure in the background that he could turn to when he needed advice since his father had trouble dealing with life. Carson had been the one to help Zeke navigate the legal proceedings after he’d been caught hacking by the NSA.
And then luckily for Zeke, Carson had turned Zeke’s innate distrust of the government around, given him a job, given him a purpose, and given him his life. But now, now he’d just told Zeke that they were going to take it all away.
“Don’t lead with your chin.”
Sports analogies. Never a good sign when Carson started using them. And basically Carson was telling him to stay protected.
Zeke processed Carson’s unspoken message. After this phone call, Carson couldn’t have any contact with him. “I’ll dump my cell phone.”
“I can’t advise you on what to do.” Carson had basically just indicated he was going to disavow Zeke. Shit. “But if it were me I’d get to a bank.”
Assets would be frozen. But it was okay if his official bank and investment accounts were inaccessible. There Zeke was in luck because his grandfather and father’s distrust of the government was strong enough that he had money ferreted away in several foreign banks and the credit cards to extract that money if he ever needed it.
He also took precautions every time he traveled so he had plenty of cash in his duffel.
“Why now?” The question nagged at Zeke. He was on leave. He’d had his interviews, but usually there was more discussion, more thought before the order to relieve someone of their job. And in this case, fuck,…treason. There were usually lawyers and personnel questions, avenues of groundwork that had to be laid, questions that had to be answered, and military lawyers and miles of red tape before a person was consigned to prison. The speed and severity of this punishment was drastic.
“I don’t know.”
He guessed that made sense. Carson was not his direct report. But it wasn’t as if Zeke could call up his boss and ask.
“Figure out how to clear your name,” Carson commanded. “I’m in your corner but I need help. And I have to be discreet. You have anything I can use?”
He had nothing. If he hadn’t let Susan Chen go yesterday he might have more answers.
“Since yesterday and now? No.” Zeke had no idea what he was going to do next.
“I’ll do what I can on this end. But Director Armbruster indicated that he’d delayed as long as he could and finally had to put the order in motion.” Carson cautioned. “Be careful. And watch your back.”
There would be no public outing on national television like they’d done with Staci Grant. Zeke would just be apprehended in a hotel room somewhere and disappear. No one would ever hear from him again. If he was lucky, he’d end up languishing in a federal prison in the U.S. But if he was unlucky, he’d be shipped off to Guantanamo, imprisoned in obscurity.
Zeke couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. His emotions seemed as frozen as his assets. He was numb. His whole life his grandfather and father had shown him how to protect himself, insulate himself from hurt, but as he stood naked and stripped bare he realized he’d still managed to grow attached. It just hadn’t been to a person, it had been to his job, the ideal of his service and his honoring of his intellect by using his brain power for good.
Yet in a nanosecond, he’d been metaphorically stripped as bare as his body. And because he’d done such a damn good job of staying remote from people, besides Jamie, Lucas, Jordan and Carson, it was likely no one would even realize he was gone.
He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself but the emotion was there, underlying the sharp edge of panic.
His heart thudded hard in his chest and he realized that he needed to get gone. About three hours ago. Carson’s heads up would give him some lead time but the agency would have an idea of where he’d started based on the GPS in his government-issued cell. He quickly popped open the back of the phone, snapped out the memory card and the other identifiers, then he grabbed one of his running shoes and crushed down hard with the heel even as his brain was working on getting out of here.
Zeke was mentally packing, calculating his options and probable hideout destinations, working at hyper speed to outthink the agency. Outthink his bosses.
Ignoring his nudity, he threw his clothes into the beat up canvas duffel, pawing through the sheets to find his shorts and t-shirt from yesterday.
Sunshine’s palm against his back stopped him suddenly. “What’s wrong?”
Her voice was soft, soothing, like an eye of calm in this sudden maelstrom. Her hand s
upple and real against his skin, the contact grounded him.
Shit. Sunshine and her problems. He’d forgotten all about her. Zeke stopped. He didn’t have time to explain. Didn’t have time to do more than get the hell out of here.
“I have to go.” He turned to face her. She’d wrapped the sheet around her body, shielding her skin but she couldn’t block the flash of hurt in her eyes at his abrupt dismissal.
She took an involuntary step back. “Oh. Okay.” She turned away from him and lifted her skirt from the floor. “Thanks for the place to crash last night.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He couldn’t just leave her. He’d promised to look after her. But he’d basically just been burned. Which meant that his contacts were no longer going to be able to help her. And being with him could actually hurt her.
Zeke started, “Look—”
“No, it’s all good.” She’d tugged the skirt on and was now clutching the sheet against her chest barely covering the curve of her naked breasts.
“Sunshine….” Zeke trailed off, wondering at his shit luck, wondering how he could even explain what had just happened.
Worst morning after in the history of the freaking world.
She’d pulled her sweater over her head. “I’ll just get out of your hair.” Her voice was steady but her fingers trembled as she tried to smooth down the wild tangle of hair around her face.
Zeke wanted to stop and revel in how her hair got tangled. But they didn’t have time. “I’m burned,” Zeke blurted out.
She paused as if finally realizing that he really wasn’t just blowing her off. “What does that mean?”
“It means that the agency has decided I’m no longer necessary.” No need to freak her out by telling her that he was likely being tracked by satellites at this very moment. And in all probability, the ‘shoot to kill’ order was in place if he chose to resist apprehension.
Zeke edged closer to her, instinctively going into protection mode. He wouldn’t let anything hurt her.
It was then that he realized she was going to have to come with him. Even though he had no idea where he was going or what he was doing, if she stayed here and they found her and connected her to him, she’d be apprehended and interrogated. So that clinched it. She’d have to come with him, at least for now.