Player chose his words very carefully. “You gave me the greatest gift today that a woman could give a man like me. I’ll treasure it, Zyah, and never forget it.”
The bubbles from the jets fizzed around his body, reminding him of the way her tongue had stroked over his skin. He did his best to shove down the memory and keep his cock under control, but there was so much steel in it he couldn’t help a lazy slide of his hand as the bubbles gave the sensation of her mouth devouring him.
“The thing is, that was too dangerous to repeat. I was too rough with you. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time. What you were doing felt so good, baby, and I was too far gone. I could have really hurt you. I’m not willing to take a chance like that with you.”
Zyah’s dark eyes moved over him. “You knew what you were doing. And I knew what I was doing. When I needed to stop for a minute, you stopped.”
He had. True. But it could have gone either way. “I hesitated. You have no idea how close it was. I didn’t want to stop. I knew you could take more. I knew you could hold your breath longer. I even reminded you. I remember that much. I was that far gone, Zyah, and that should tell you something right there.”
He hadn’t wanted to stop. Just talking about that moment where her mouth, her throat, had constricted his cock to the point of paradise and her eyes, all liquid for him, had looked up at him sent fire crashing through his body all over again. His cock jerked and pulsed with the memory.
“It tells me that you stopped and checked to make certain I was all right. You offered to stop. It wasn’t just you, Player, it was me. I was feeding your emotions just as you were feeding mine. I wanted what happened. I took us there. I don’t want you to feel guilty about it.”
“You have a sore throat. Your voice is husky.”
Zyah didn’t deny it. “And hopefully, tonight, when we get really crazy in bed, I’ll be deliciously sore other places as well.”
Player lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. She had to see him. Hear him. Understand what he was saying. “I’m not like that, Zyah. I’m not that man. I’m not a selfish bastard who takes his own pleasure and doesn’t give a damn about his woman. In that moment I was thinking about myself, how I was feeling, my body, not you or your pleasure.”
“No, Player, you weren’t. You were very cognizant of me the entire time. More than I wanted you to be. That just proved to me more than ever that we were meant for each other.” Zyah sound very complacent, even a little amused. “You were supposed to be wholly consumed with your own pleasure, that was the point, but you definitely were worried about me, and you liked how I looked all laid out in front of you.”
That much was true. She’d looked so sinfully sexy laid out like an erotic offering. He’d never seen anything so sexy as her lips stretched so wide around his cock, or the way it had appeared like a monster in her throat. He had wrapped his palm around her throat to feel the way he invaded, the way she took him. Just the reminder had flames rushing through his veins.
“It’s going to be one of those days, baby. I’m going to need you to stand up and bend over the side of the tub for me.”
She raised an eyebrow as he rose. “Now?” Deliberately she didn’t move as he took the two steps to get to her.
“Right now.” He reached for the mass of hair on top of her head.
Laughing, she rose from the water so it poured off of her. He caught her up, spun her around and pressed her body so it draped over the marble railing. Her breasts hung over the sides, dripping. His foot pushed her legs wider while his hand ensured she was slick and ready for him. She was. Hot. She pressed back with her bottom to entice him.
The sight of her naked body draped over the marble caught at him. She had the most beautiful ass. Everything about her was perfection to him. He loved her shape. Every curve. Her coloring. Her sense of fun. Every damn thing.
His cock jerked hard when she pushed her ass close and rubbed. He swatted her hard and laughed when she yelped and tried to turn her head. It was too late—he was slamming home, driving himself deep, letting the fire consume them both. He’d been sated earlier, so this time he was going to be able to hold out, take more time, feel the burn for a long, long time and give her multiple orgasms. Many, many. He had plans for the day. She didn’t get many of them off, and she deserved to have the best day he could give her.
NINETEEN
Czar stood for a long time studying from every angle the drawing Anat’s husband had given her as an anniversary present. Player had hung it on the wall of the large shed farthest from his house. He’d kept the lighting bright throughout the shed, even spotlighting the drawing. He didn’t want to take any chances that if the visitor appeared—and at some point, he wanted to draw him out—the man would be able to see enough to identify where they were. Already, Player feared he could find Zyah.
Czar wasn’t the only member of Torpedo Ink present. Savage, Ink, Storm, Maestro and Mechanic were there as well. Player, like the others, wasn’t happy that the president of their club had insisted he come. No one knew what they were dealing with, so they didn’t want to risk Czar, Lana or Alena or any of the married men. Czar and Steele were deemed by the club far too valuable, although had they known the others had secretly met and had tried to keep them away, they would have been furious.
“No matter how I look at this thing, Player, I don’t see anything but a very beautiful and complicated drawing.” Czar turned to the others. “Any of you see anything different?”
Savage had draped himself by the door, but his gaze was fixed on the picture. He always looked casual and very relaxed. No one who knew him ever bought that pose. He was completely focused, ready to protect Czar should any threat suddenly come to him.
Player was grateful no one thought he was insane. They hadn’t witnessed him putting the bomb together, nor had they seen the eyes watching from the center of the drawing, but they didn’t question him. Maestro and Anat had heard the ticking of the clock, but that was the only real proof Player had to back his story, and it was thin. Zyah had added her testimony to his, handing her notes over to Czar, as well as her sketches, hoping Czar might identify the man from their past. He hadn’t been able to.
“Sorry, Player,” Savage said.
One by one, the others all studied the drawing just as thoroughly as Czar had. No one was able to see what was so clear to Player. It was frustrating.
Zyah fished around in her purse and pulled out a small box. Carefully she opened it and unwrapped a monocle, using almost a reverent touch. “Try this, Czar, but please be very careful. It means a great deal to my grandmother. It was my grandfather’s, and he wore it all the time when he was working on this drawing.”
Player had no idea she had asked Anat to borrow it. Instinctively, he knew Zyah would never have taken it from the house without permission. Her hand shook just a little as she handed it off to Czar. Clearly, she’d even asked Anat a few questions about the monocle.
Czar stood in front of the drawing and fitted the eyepiece over his right eye. His swift intake of breath was audible. “That fucker. What an anniversary present to give his wife. He put plans for a bomb in a drawing for her. Firstclass asshole.”
Player glanced at Zyah’s stricken expression. “Czar.”
Czar followed his gaze. “Sorry, Zyah.” Clearly, his anger hadn’t been expelled, because he swore in his native language. What kind of man does that to his woman?
Zyah cleared her throat. “It’s all right, Czar. I knew the plans for the bomb were there. I didn’t want to know, but Player’s been building it for weeks now. I had to accept the fact once he told me. I didn’t know about my grandfather’s monocle being the device to reveal the plans. And just to let you know—I’m a fairly strong telepath. I don’t hear what you’re saying when it isn’t directed to me, but I know you’re saying something. You don’t have to try to spare my feelings.”
“Just the same,” Savage said, taking the monocle from Czar. “There’s no need to
make you feel worse than you already do. Anat’s going to have a very difficult time with this.” He fitted the round piece to his eye and studied the drawing, whistling softly. “This man was a pro. This was made how many years ago?” He passed the monocle to Ink.
“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” Maestro asked Zyah as Ink studied the drawing. “Does she have to know? She loves her husband. She talks about him all the time.”
“Yes, I have to,” Zyah said, her voice gentle. “We don’t keep things from each other. I would never be able to face her again if I didn’t tell her about this.”
“Was she suspicious when you asked to borrow the picture?” Mechanic inquired, taking the device from Ink so he could study the plans for the bomb.
“No, we’d talked about showing the drawing to Czar when we were at the Floating Hat with Blythe,” Zyah said. “I told her I’d take good care of it. She’s very good at hearing lies, and I didn’t tell her one. I borrowed the picture yesterday. I wrapped it up so carefully. Player and I brought it out here to the shed. I didn’t tell her that.”
She was watching Mechanic. Player moved closer to her, and she immediately put her hand on his leg. Her touch was light, but he knew she needed comfort. He covered her hand, applying pressure until her palm pressed into his muscle.
The two people who had studied the drawing the longest had been Savage and now Mechanic. Both had quite a lot of knowledge when it came to bombs. Mechanic looked at the drawing from every angle just as Savage had done. Player was interested in what they thought. This was no ordinary bomb, and the strange thing was, Player hadn’t come across anything like it before.
“The device is definitely for a specific purpose,” Mechanic murmured aloud. “Very detailed and different. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Savage joined him, taking the monocle. “I agree. The bomb looks like it would work, there’s no question about that, but . . .” He trailed off and passed the device back to Mechanic.
Maestro was the only one who hadn’t looked at the drawing. He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how you can do this, Zyah. Have you seen the proof yet?”
She shook her head. Player felt her press her hand deeper into the muscle of his leg. He knew she was torn.
“Your grandmother is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever encountered.” Maestro was utterly sincere. “If she’d have me, I’d marry her myself. That hound dog Dwayne River keeps sending her flowers and drops by the house to have tea with her. He doesn’t even like tea.”
Player could see that Maestro was trying to keep Zyah’s attention on him rather than on the speculating the others were doing about the bomb. He knew it wouldn’t work for long, even if she was distracted for a moment. Zyah was determined to get to the truth.
“Maestro,” Savage said, without turning his head. “You don’t like tea, and you’ve been deceiving Anat and drinking it with her by the gallon just to impress her.”
A roar of laughter went up. Even Zyah had to laugh. “You do know it’s impossible to deceive Mama Anat, Maestro. If you don’t like tea, she would know it.”
Maestro frowned. “How could she know?”
Zyah shrugged. “She just does. Same as I do. Player’s never going to get away with anything because I’ll always know when he’s up to no good. Just remember that, honey, if you decide to run off with a hot little blonde. I’m very good with a gun.”
Her fingers suddenly dug into Player’s leg muscle very hard. His gut tightened into hard little knots. He looked down into her upturned face. Her dark eyes had gone liquid.
Gedeon. She whispered his name in his mind. Brushing him with trepidation. With sorrow. Swamping him with fear. Mama Anat. Her voice dripped with tears at the dawning realization.
He didn’t dare look at the members of his club. Like him, they had probably considered that Anat, having been married to Horus as long as she had, would have suspected, if not known. For certain, Czar would have considered it. And Savage had spent enough time with Anat to realize that she was too intelligent not to suspect.
Player sank onto the narrow wooden bench beside Zyah, locking his arms around her, uncaring what the others thought. He sent waves of soothing comfort into her mind. Don’t panic on me, Zyah. We don’t know anything at this point. Anything at all. Everything is speculation. Until we know something as fact, we don’t act on it or get upset over it.
Czar had drilled that into them when they were children. It did no good to try to look ahead and fear what they didn’t know for certain. They could only deal with their reality. That was what they needed to do right then. He stroked a hand down the back of her head. Czar looked at him sharply.
“I just owned right up to hating that poisonous brew,” Savage declared, covering the silence. “Told Blythe. Then told Anat.” He handed the monocle to Maestro. “This is a thing of beauty. Anat’s man was a fucking genius, but I’m still not certain what part of the contents were designed for. Player, you must have figured that out when you were putting it together.”
“At first, when I was working on it, I was doing so in my dreams. I was a child, building a bomb in my head when everything had gone wrong. When things get overwhelming for me, I retreat into my head and I build bombs.” He despised admitting that to the others, but he did so matter-of-factly. “I look at it like puzzles in my head. I just fit the pieces together. I focus on that instead of what is going on around me.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Mechanic said. “I tend to do the same with engines.”
“I do it with art, tattoos,” Ink admitted. “Sometimes I bring wildlife into it.”
“For me, it’s the weather, the cloud formations,” Storm said.
“Music,” Maestro said.
“Best not to say what goes on in my mind when I need to escape, not with Zyah here,” Savage said. “Suffice it to say, bombs are the better alternative.”
Czar said nothing. He looked expectantly at Player, indicating for him to continue.
Player rubbed his hand up and down Zyah’s arm. Both of them—maybe everyone in the shed—had realized, when Zyah had revealed that Anat had known Maestro was lying over the tea, that she most likely had to have known about her husband and his anniversary gift. If she could hear lies, and she’d lived with her husband all those years, how could she not know? Zyah was truly devastated. Player didn’t know what to think, and he was determined to reserve judgment.
You okay, baby? If you need to go up to the house for a break, I can handle this here. We won’t go any further, other than trying to figure things out, without waiting for you.
I can handle it, Zyah assured, cuddling closer into him. I know my grandmother. She would never be involved in anything that would harm others. The idea just threw me for a moment.
“The problem started when I was shot. I really hate to call it a brain injury.” Player despised revealing that his brain had been torn up by that bullet. “Apparently, that bullet did a lot of damage. Steele worked his magic, but the trauma was very severe. The migraines started and refused to stop. I have nightmares nearly every night.”
Now he really sounded like a pussy. He hadn’t ever wanted to talk about this to his club. He’d felt so different from them, so apart, and this just seemed to make it worse, yet when he’d admitted he built bombs in his mind in order to stop himself from thinking about what was happening to his body when he was raped, the others shared they’d done similar things. Player tightened his hold on Zyah. He’d sat next to her to comfort her, and now she was the one giving him the strength to tell the others what needed to be said.
“When I used to build illusions, playing around with Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and the characters for all of you when we were kids, if I did it too long, my brain couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t in full control of my talent then. I hadn’t really built it up, and sometimes I’d get tired if I entertained you too long.”
He rubbed at his temples, remembering the pounding ache that always told him he’
d gone too far. “I’d get these terrible headaches. I learned to stop the moment I’d get blasted with one, but before I realized that was the warning sign, I discovered that my illusions could turn to an alternate reality very fast. The alternate was never good and would pull others into it.”
Player glanced around the shed. The others were very quiet, very focused on him. “I often built the illusion of the wall with the door so we could all slip through. I did it dozens of times, but sometimes things would go wrong. We’d be in bad shape. The first few times, I was young and it was difficult for me. I wasn’t strong enough.”
He shook his head and glanced at Czar. Zyah tightened her fingers on his skin, her mind moving in his. “Remember when I was holding the illusion of the wall with the closed door so Sorbacov and his friends had no idea all of you were escaping out the real door? That time when we were all in such bad shape? Really bad shape. Every one of us. We could barely walk. They’d nearly killed Savage and Reaper. We thought they were dead. All of us were already in the dungeon, but we went back for them. We thought Sorbacov was gone. He and his friends came back.”
Beads of sweat formed on Player’s forehead. He felt them trickle down his face and wiped at them with the back of his hand. He couldn’t look at Zyah. What if she couldn’t accept him after he admitted this to her? What if Czar couldn’t?
Maestro nodded. “We were trying to carry Savage and Reaper out. Savage was really bad. That’s when they tore the skin off him and branded those words into his back. He was slippery with blood, and any place we touched him hurt like hell. He couldn’t make a sound. Reaper had been cut and someone had played tic-tac-toe on his face with a knife. There wasn’t a place on his body that wasn’t bloody.”
Mechanic kept his gaze fixed on Player’s face. “You saved all of us that day. Alena was hurt, and I was carrying her. Ice was in bad shape. I think he’d been in the loom and they’d ripped him up. That was the day from hell. Czar, Transporter and Maestro took out one of the bastards who had tortured Savage while Demyan, Ink and Keys killed one of the ones that had gotten to Reaper. We had no idea Sorbacov and his friends were in the building.”
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