by Lisa Hughey
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” He lifted his gaze to mine and I saw something else lingering in his eyes. Some other worry that I couldn’t place. “I’d rather you were safe.”
“I’ve been trying to be safe my whole life,” I said fiercely. “I’m tired of playing safe.”
“I can definitely use your brain power to collaborate with.”
It was as if he reached inside, found my deepest desire, and acknowledged that I was capable. More than capable, exceptional.
And I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest.
“But Sunshine…it will be dangerous.”
As if I hadn’t already figured that out when the Army had been zooming by us looking for his Range Rover.
Which reminded me. “We need to buzz your hair.”
Zeke grimaced but didn’t argue.
We quickly cleaned up from our meal, rinsing the plates and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. The scent of butter and simmering onions lingered in the air.
“Where do you want me to do this?” I stepped closer to Zeke.
“You don’t have to—”
I ran my hand through his hair, the curls were a silky mass and tangled in my fingers. I gloried in the tactile sensation of his hair sliding against my skin. “I may want to cut the longer strands with scissors, and then shave your head.”
Zeke shuddered. And I realized I was absently massaging his scalp and somehow I was closer than I meant to be.
His heat slammed into me as he circled his arms around my waist and pulled me snug against his hard body.
The rounded lip of the granite countertop dug in to my lower spine. I spread my legs to accommodate him, and he edged between my thighs, his hips pressed against mine, trapping me.
My softer curves yielded to his possessive embrace without thought. He wrapped his arms round me in a tight hold as if he were afraid I would break free. Before I could say a word, he’d slanted his head and possessed my mouth.
This was no easy, tentative seduction. He devoured my mouth with far more passion and messy intensity than the omelet he’d precisely parsed into small bites.
The stubble from his unshaven jaw rasped against my tender skin. He slid his palm up the center of my back, his touch firm against each vertebrae. The contact over my sweater sizzled through me and I ached for him to slide his rougher hand against my smoother softer skin. His other hand cupped my butt and urged me into his erection.
The intimate touch was thrilling. My head went light and my legs went weak. I gripped his waist tightly and held on. Zeke spun me around and lifted me onto the kitchen island. The granite was cool beneath my legs, chilling me even through the barrier of my skirt. His biceps bulged beneath my palms as I clung to his arms.
The urgency in his movements exhilarated me, and my heart thudded as he scraped his palms up my legs pushing my skirt until the material bunched in my lap. His thumbs rubbed at the crease between my thigh and hip along the edge of the bikini bottom and I nearly shot up to the ceiling.
I was already trying to rip his t-shirt over his head. “Don’t want to get hair on this,” I murmured against his lips.
He snickered and lifted his arms so that I could get it off. Zeke leaned against the island, his erection rubbed against my damp panties. I curled into the contact, so hard against my soft.
Zeke was tugging my sweater over my head and took the biking top with it. I pressed open-mouthed kisses over his pectorals, hungry for the taste of his skin.
He rubbed his palms against my ribcage and cupped my breasts in his hands before he pinched the nipples. The zing from the pleasure/pain sizzled through my body like electricity through water, and all my thoughts shorted out.
He dragged his tongue down my neck and I tilted my head back to give him greater access. The wet heat of his mouth sent tingles across my skin.
He nipped his way across my collarbone, then bent his head to suck my nipple into his mouth. I wanted to reciprocate, I wanted so many things but I didn’t know how to tell him. Still unsure of myself.
I wanted him inside me. I wanted the long, slow invasion of his cock and the sensual glide of his skin against mine. But I already knew this wasn’t going to be like last night.
My heart triple-timed at his carnal intent as he pressed me down until my bare back lay on the chilly granite. Then he bent his head and consumed me. His mouth, his hands were everywhere. He trapped my arms against my sides so I couldn’t touch him. In desperation, I shifted my hips rocking my damp sex against his erection, still covered by his board shorts, desperate for him to take me again.
“Please,” I whimpered. So caught up in the sensations rocketing through my body I was nearly insensate.
He lifted my hips, his palms skimmed along my inner thighs, and then he bent his head to taste me. His mouth was hot, wet, wicked. Finally I was able to move my arms, I fisted my fingers into his curls, pulling him closer, as he rubbed his stubble against my swollen sex. He lifted his head to smile at me a flash of white teeth against his lips, red from our frantic kisses, and his chin slick with my juices.
Suddenly I felt overly exposed, my bare breasts pointing toward the ceiling, my skirt bunched around my waist like a wanton, and my legs spread wide open as I sprawled on the kitchen countertop. This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this kind of thing.
But his laser concentration didn’t even see my sudden vulnerability as he stripped his shorts to the floor. He pushed me further back so that the counter’s edge hit at my knees and then he climbed between my legs and lay over me, his pecs flattening my breasts, and his erection hot and thick against my belly. He yanked open the drawer behind my head and pulled out the box of condoms. He did a one armed pushup off my body and ripped the box open with his teeth.
His urgency calmed my insecurities, as he dropped a condom square onto my sternum. I grabbed the package and tore it open as he tossed the box onto the counter next to us.
Once I got it open, Zeke smoothly rolled the condom down his erection.
As if he couldn’t wait any longer, the bulbous head of his cock nudged my opening.
I couldn’t help it, I tensed. Last night the pain had been fleeting but he was definitely big and my body definitely had needed time to adjust to his size. He rubbed against my clit, stimulating me, little sparks sizzled through my body. And then suddenly he was rocking against me, into me, with each foray of his hips he eased a little further inside. I tried to relax, but I was still tight.
A belated concern entered his gaze. His sudden realization of where we were and what we were doing was palpable in the dappled light of the kitchen. Oh no, we were not talking about that now. In desperation, I lifted my head and went straight for the flat disk of his nipple. I licked the tight button and unexpected pleasure flowed through me when he groaned.
My womb clenched, arousal dripped, slicking the way for his invasion. “I want you.” I needed him inside me. I curled my fingers around his muscled ass and tugged, silently begging him when he continued to move slowly.
The granite was cold and hard beneath me, the ceiling fan turned lazily above. Zeke was propped up on his elbows, his expression fierce, and as I stared into his face, light speared through the slits in the blinds, and created a halo around his blond curls, darkened his eyes. His concentration was intense as he tunneled his fingers through my hair, and held my head.
“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he murmured against my mouth.
I lifted my hips and finally he slid all the way inside.
He was buried as far as he could go, and I felt his thick length from my cervix to my clit. He filled me, completed me as if he were the other half of my soul. That thought was so profound, I couldn’t breathe.
His cock pulsed against my g-spot and each beat of his blood caused an answering throb deep in my sex.
“You okay?” he asked huskily.
I nodded. Everything about the moment embedded in my brain and I knew I would take it out and relive it. Over an
d over again.
Then he started to move.
His knees between mine, he spread me wide and plundered.
The hair from his thighs rubbed against my softer inner thigh, the root of his cock pounded against my clit, and lightly fuzzed hair of his chest teased my nipples. His thumbs brushed against my cheeks as he devoured my mouth.
Each thrust pushed me to a new dimension. Sensations bombarded me. The swell of something, more than physical but I refused to name, built like a tidal wave until with one final thrust he jetted his come into the condom, the force of his orgasm triggered mine. And I soared off the cliff, freefalling into pleasure so intense that my vision went white.
My orgasm steamrolled through me, and everything arrowed down to where we joined. Love and endorphins swallowed up my body and I was made of pure light.
I convulsed around him holding on tightly. His hands in my hair, his body slick with sweat, we were connected from our knees to our heads.
Zeke bowed over me, his forehead against mine. His breath puffed against my neck, with each soft huff shivers raced down my spine. My heart pumped against his chest as I soothed my hands over the strong muscles of his back.
He lay atop me in what should have felt crushing, but instead I felt cherished, as if anyone would have to go through him to get to me. I could rest, secure in the knowledge that he would be there to protect me.
I clung to that feeling, knowing it couldn’t last, that nothing that good ever did. I wrapped my arms tight around his back and held on, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as possible.
Temporarily, endorphins had clouded my brain and I’d believed that I was destined for something new, something good. But as our heartbeats slowed, the hard uncompromising granite at my back and the bulk of him between my legs transformed into a prison of hope. Because even though I wanted that happiness, wanted that closeness with another person, that was not my lot in life.
Thirty-Three
Ping. Ping.
My tablet alarm sounded from inside my purse, reminding me it was time to call the message center to check on my mother. For a short while I’d forgotten my problems, mired in the complex labyrinth of Zeke Hawthorne’s life and how we intersected. The amazing sex, the sense of connecting with him on a plane so ephemeral that it seemed like an illusion, had let me forget. But all that was a mirage. A wish for a different life.
With that innocuous ping, all my problems came rushing back. Mama, Blue, the threat of John finding us. Again.
Because even with Zeke’s issues, my primary worry was John Stanley. And oh my Goddess, what had I just done? Besides the obvious sex on the kitchen island, we both had much bigger problems than satisfying our physical urges.
“I need to check in,” I said almost desperately.
Zeke pulled from my body, and my sex clenched resisting letting him go, trying to hold him inside. He brushed his hand over my hair gently. The caress was affectionate, charming.
He hopped down from the island and sauntered naked toward the little bathroom off the kitchen clearly unselfconscious about his nudity. Whereas I wanted to cover up as soon as possible. I rolled off the island and quickly snatched up my sweater. Then scrabbled around looking for the bikini bottom.
By the time he came out of the bathroom, I was dressed and had grabbed a new burner phone from the Target bags.
I activated the phone, dialed the answering service, and entered the numeric code to get access to the messages.
My mother’s voice, calm and…happy, reverberated in my ear as I listened to her message. She and Blue were on the move and hadn’t seen John. Which of course I knew since he’d been on the beach with me a little while ago.
They were headed north to San Francisco. Although she didn’t come out and say that’s where they were going, she referenced a coffee shop that we had visited last year, and a confusing mix of emotions tumbled through me. I was thrilled she was okay. But did she have to sound so happy without me?
In what felt like the blink of an eye, my entire world had shifted. My mother didn’t need me anymore. My previous joy for helping Zeke was overshadowed by the fact that I was superfluous now. Which was a little crazy. I should be pleased, thrilled. I’d been wishing for freedom for forever.
Hadn’t I just been thinking about how much I wanted independence? About how trapped I’d felt? Finally I had the chance to do something with my brain. To do something that I wanted. I wasn’t going to be constrained by my crazy stepfather anymore, I’d found my new beginning.
But after hearing her message, hearing the happiness in her voice, I was lost again.
Goddess, I was such a mess.
“How’s your mom?” Zeke asked quietly as if sensing my mood.
I was thankful we’d been able to skip all the post-sex awkwardness because we’d been interrupted. Again.
“Peachy,” I replied, tempering the sarcasm with an overlay of cheer. “They’re going north.”
“How far?”
“Sounds like San Francisco.” I smoothed a hand over my wrinkled skirt. The only good in that message was the fact that when my stepfather had asked on the beach, I hadn’t had any idea where my mother was. “Far away from John.”
She didn’t need me. Wasn’t that really what I wanted? A chance to be me. A chance to take control of my life and do what I wanted?
“Good thing she doesn’t need you because I do. Badly.” How had he narrowed in on what I was thinking? Was I that transparent?
Zeke began to backtrack. “Uh, for your brain. You know.”
I should be happy for my mother. I wasn’t about to sacrifice her happiness for my own crazy mixed up need to be needed. So if Mama was happy I wanted her to stay that way. And I would do whatever it took. She’d been my responsibility for so long. I couldn’t let go. And the only way to keep her happy and safe was to find a way to get rid of John Stanley for good.
As if he reached into my thoughts, Zeke said, “You know, since you’re helping me with my problem. I want to help you with yours.”
How did he even know my problem? I didn’t even know my problem, I was so messed up in the head from everything swirling around.
“How so?” I scrunched up my face.
“I need to find Susan Chen and get her to clear my name.”
“Not sure how that helps me, Zeke,” I snarked.
“What if, after we find Chen, we go after Stanley?” Zeke threw the idea out. “We control the time, the place, everything, we just set it up so that he thinks he’s found you again when in reality we’ve lead him right where we want him.”
My heart quickened, my pulse thudded in my ears, part anticipation, part fear. Mostly fear. I’d held my own in the altercation on the beach. But to actually go after the man who’d kept me prisoner, and really take control of my life. Seize my future.
Could I do it?
I didn’t know. But the desire to confront him was like a physical taste on my tongue. I could erase that bitterness he’d forced on me and replace it with the sweet ability to do what I wanted, go after my dreams. Find my true place.
Goddess, the temptation.
“I can see you like the idea,” Zeke teased.
I was practically vibrating with the need to do it now.
“How?” I paced around the kitchen, my mother forgotten as I tried to picture the confrontation and couldn’t see past the result. I stopped cold. And went back to his original statement. “What about your problems?”
“We’ll take care of my problem with Chen first. But it’s possible Stanley can help me too.” Zeke said seriously, “I can question him about who hired him. That person had to know that he married your mother, which would seem to be a serious breach of sleeper protocol.”
Was going after John Stanley the right move? But if I didn’t, I would never be free of him.
Zeke said, “Let’s jump.”
I threaded my fingers through his. “Together?”
We were both doing something scary,
something that had the power to change the course of our lives.
“Together,” he said emphatically.
***
Zeke looked at the trust shining from her and hoped he wasn’t leading her down the wrong path.
His suggestion wasn’t just about helping her. He needed to help himself too. And trusting anyone was difficult. He finally figured out that he wasn’t going to be able to do this alone. He was going to need help. He was forcing himself to slough off his aloneness so he could save his career, and his life.
Now that Sunshine was on board, he needed to call Jamie and Lucas. He needed to proceed carefully so that Jamie didn’t have any blowback from helping him. And he wanted to confirm that if anything happened to him, Jamie would look out for Sunshine.
He definitely wouldn’t let Sunshine suffer because she’d helped him. He had to guarantee her safety. He refused to put her in additional jeopardy.
Zeke curved his arms around her waist. The same move that had led to the amazingly hot sex on the kitchen island.
He couldn’t help the little smirk that lifted his mouth.
“This is hardly a laughing matter.” But she smiled at him. “Geek Boy.”
He pressed a line of kisses along her jaw, happy that she was comfortable enough to tease him. He licked her upper lip, then pressed chaste kisses against the left, then right corner of her mouth. But instead of merely brushing her bottom lip, he sucked her lip into his mouth and nipped the plump flesh.
“I’ll never look at granite the same again, Granola Girl.”
A flush spread from the scoop neckline of her sweater past her collarbone and into her smiling cheeks.
Sunshine ducked her head. “Um, yeah.”
“I think we have some hair to cut.”
She whipped out the scissors far too quickly for his peace of mind.
Sunshine laughed at whatever was on his face. “Worried?”
“Should I be?”
“I’m wicked good with scissors,” she replied.
“Where do you want me?”