Not more than a couple of minutes had passed before the cops arrived to check out the alarm he’d sounded, but one of them had taken off.
Whether or not they found that guy would depend on if the punk they’d arrested last night decided to talk. Regardless, Zach had every damn intention of pressing charges. This was the third time somebody had decided to break into his place and he’d been in there last night.
His gut twisted a little as he thought about everything that could have gone wrong.
Javi or Keelie could have been in there.
Abby could have been there with him.
“Stop it, man.” He turned away from his battered reflection. That what if game was a bad, bad thing to get started. Blanking his mind, he hooked his thumbs in the gray boxer briefs he wore and went to shove them down, but even that had him almost doubled over as his ribs screamed at him.
“Need some help?”
He shot Abby a dark look as she came into the bathroom. She wore a pale green chemise with skinny straps that just barely skimmed her hips and her dark red curls were still tousled. He wanted to bury his face against her neck and just stay there. For about forever.
Instead, he looked away. “I can handle the damn shower.”
“Cranky.”
He glared at her. “A couple of assholes broke into my shop, I get the shit beaten out of me, and there’s not an inch of me that doesn’t hurt. Yeah, I’m cranky.” Then, as she arched a brow at him, he groaned and looked away. “Sorry. Just . . . I need a shower and I’ll find some Motrin and . . .”
She sauntered inside, moved around him to open the cabinet just beyond his shoulder. She pulled out a bottle and popped the cap. She shook out four and held her hand out. “The doctor ordered that dosage so here . . . you’ve also got some narcotics downstairs.”
“No, thanks,” he muttered, swiping the orange pills out of her hand. “That stuff makes me loopy.”
“Hmmm. Trust me, I’m well aware.” She filled the little glass from the side of the sink with water and held it out to him.
Once he’d taken the pills, she stood in front of him, eyeing him critically for a long, long moment. Then she moved in and slid her hands down his ribs, carefully, her palms ghosting over his flesh.
“Abby, I . . .”
“Shhh . . .” She slid her hands inside his boxers and tugged them down. His cock swelled in response and when she brushed the back of her hand against him, he groaned. “I don’t know if I’m up to this, sugar.”
“Oh, really?” She grinned at him and closed her hand around his cock, stroked up, then down. “You feel pretty up to me. But . . . don’t worry. I think we should take it easy for now.”
He almost whimpered just then, because as sore as he was, when she went down to her knees in front of him, every damned thing in him responded.
A faint smile tugged her lips and she shot him a look. “See? You’re more than up for what I’ve got planned,” she murmured, leaning and placing a hot, openmouthed kiss to the head of his cock.
He caught her hair in his fist when she lingered and slid her mouth down, then back. “You . . .” He closed his eyes and rested his hips against the counter of the sink. “I think I can only handle about five or ten minutes of this in my condition.”
She rolled her eyes up to meet his, and the wicked glint in her eyes just might have sent him to his knees. He didn’t think he could get back up if he went to the floor, though. Swearing, he braced one hand against the cool marble of the counter and fisted his free hand in her hair, tangling the crazy curls around his fist and shuddering as she sucked him deeper, taking him so far back he felt the head of his cock bump against the back of her throat.
She did it again and again, and for a few minutes, Zach forgot about the aches in his body, forgot about anything and everything but the slick glide of her mouth over his cock and the silk of her hair fisted in his hand.
Her fingers stroked up over his thigh and he hissed out a breath as she closed her fingers around the sac of his balls, gripped him tight.
Her teeth scraped over the sensitive underside of his cock and then, as she took him back inside, so fucking deep, she hummed a little, and he thought the top of his head was going to come off as he started to come. He rocked forward to meet her, muttering and panting under his breath as he reached out with his other hand to hold her steady.
She moved with him, her mouth hot, sweet, and wet. It was pure, sheer bliss and for those few minutes, the pain he felt faded away and all that mattered was her. Her, and that amazing mouth, her tongue curling over the head of his cock before sucking him deeper, harder. Her fingers, tormenting him as she gripped his balls.
As pleasure streaked through him, building higher and higher, he cupped her head in his hands and surged forward, holding rigid, legs locked as the climax tore through him. All the way through.
* * *
Abigale licked her lips and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth as she stood up, kicking his boxers out of the way. “You know . . . all I’d really planned on doing was helping you get out of your boxers,” she teased. “I figured you’d have trouble moving much with your ribs and all.”
He gave her a heavy-lidded look and cupped her face in his hand, stroking a thumb over her lower lip.
“You a little less cranky now?” she asked, sliding her arms around his waist.
He caught her around the waist and she went, easing her body against his, careful not to press against him as he tucked his chin against her shoulder. “I don’t know.” He kissed her neck and then asked, “If I say no, will you do it again?”
She laughed a little. “No. But if you’re nice, I might climb into the shower with you. You don’t look like you can wash your hair without hurting.”
He jabbed her in the ribs. “I’ll have you know I can wash my hair just fine, Abs.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you can and you’ll hurt and suffer for it.” She leaned back and brushed his hair back from his face. “Let me help, Zach.”
Dark blue eyes met hers and he groaned, dropped his head to rest his brow on hers. “You help just by existing, Abby. But you’re killing my ego here.”
She snorted. “Your ego is just fine. Besides, you got jumped by two thugs and you kicked ass.”
“The chair helped. The idiot tripped and the chair helped break his fall.” Then he stroked a finger down her back. “I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing you all wet and naked. Might get me in a better frame of mind for when I call my folks and tell them what happened.”
“Hmm. And you better get that done before they find out some other way.”
* * *
“I’m coming out there.”
Zach winced and said, “Now, Mom . . . you don’t need to do that.”
“You had to go to the hospital, you’re hurt, and I’m coming out there,” she said, her voice flat. “You live alone and you need somebody there to help you.”
“I . . . ah . . .” He flashed Abby a look and without batting an eyelash, threw her to the wolves. “Well, I got somebody. Abby is staying with me.”
There was a pause. One of those heavy, lingering pauses that seemed to carry the weight of the world. Abby stood in front of him, her hands propped on her hips and her brows arched as she studied him. He mouthed out, Sorry.
She started to tap her foot.
“Abby . . .”
“Yeah, Mom.” He started to shrug and then swore as it sent pain crashing through him.
Through the roar of blood in his ears, he only barely heard his mom’s voice and since he was struggling to catch his breath, he went ahead and listened and turned the phone over to Abby.
A few seconds went by before he could focus past the pain to hear the conversation.
“Yeah, Denise . . . I’m here with him. Honestly, other than being battered, I think he’s fine.” She watched him with a questioning stare and he grimaced, pressed a hand to his side as he made his way over to the kitchen counter. The amber bottl
e of pain meds beckoned and he blew out a breath, deciding to go ahead and just get it over with. One pill. He’d take it, pass out, and hopefully when he woke up, the worst of it would be done.
As he opened the bottle, he heard Abby’s heels clicking on the floor and by the time he had a pill in his hand, she’d slid a Coke in front of him. He gave her a tired grin in thanks and popped the evil little pill in his mouth, washing it down.
“Uh-huh,” Abby said, still talking to his mom. “Hmmm . . . yeah. I can handle him, I swear. I’ve been doing it a long time. I promise I’ll call if he gets to be too much of an ass.”
A few seconds later, the phone was back in his hand and he caught Abby’s waist, tucking her up against him before she could pull away. “So can you sleep tonight, trusting I’ll be okay?” he asked.
“No,” Denise replied. “You smart-ass. Because I’m going to try and figure out what in the hell drove you to open that shop where you did. I’m going to worry about what would have happened if you weren’t used to fighting two idiot kids at once—we should thank your brothers for that crash course they’ve been giving you all this time—and I’m going to worry about every other thing that could have gone wrong.”
“Hey, in the end, things could have been worse,” he said. “I’m here and I’m fine.”
“Yes. You’re here. You’re fine. And you’re with Abby . . .” There was a smile in her voice, one that he heard loud and clear, but he wasn’t going to unravel that mess just then. “So. I’ll stop worrying some. Now. Have you taken the pain medicine?”
“I just did. I got a few minutes before I start getting completely stupid with it.”
“Okay. Get off the phone then. And Zach? Make sure you’re not being . . . stupid about other things.”
The phone disconnected and he sighed, putting it on the counter and hoping Abby hadn’t been paying that much attention. Stupid about other things. Yeah, Mom. Real subtle, that hint.
“So. Just how completely loopy do you get with the pain meds?” Abby asked, brushing his hair back.
He grimaced and shot her a look. “I took something last night. Did you notice any . . . ah . . .”
“Oh. Yes.” She grinned. “There were a few moments. And I’ve seen you on pain meds before. It’s just been a while. I was wondering if it had gotten any better.”
“Shit, no. If anything, it’s just gotten worse.”
* * *
“You want to tell me why?”
Zach folded his arms over his chest and stared at a point somewhere over Abby’s shoulder. “Look, are you going to give me a ride in or not? If you’re not, I’ll call Keelie or one of the others. Hell, I can call a cab if it’s that much trouble.”
“Trouble . . .” Her eyes narrowed on his face as she drawled the word out and he suspected that probably hadn’t been the ideal way to try and move this conversation forward, but fuck. All he needed to do was go to the shop for a little while.
Clenching his jaw, he counted to five silently. “I spent all day laying around yesterday. I took it easy. Now I’m getting back to work.”
“You can’t even move without hurting.”
“I’m aware of that fact, thanks.” He went to shove a hand through his hair and had a dismal reminder of that fact, one that left him biting back a curse as his ribs shrieked at him.
“Gee, Zach . . . did that feel good?”
He glared at her. “Can we go or am I calling somebody else?”
“Are you trying be an ass?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips. She tapped her nails against her skin and part of him was thinking about the way she’d raked those pretty nails across his belly as they’d woke up. That was a thought that just made him more irritated because when he’d tried to pull her on top of him, she’d given him a nice little kiss on the cheek and then rolled out of bed.
She had him twisted up, damn it. She’d always had him like this, but it was worse now and he couldn’t even tell her how much worse it was. The bad thing was that if she really pushed it, he’d probably go ahead and do whatever in the hell she asked him, just because he didn’t want to see her unhappy and fuck, but he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t live that way and he knew it.
“I need to go in,” he said, keeping his voice flat because if he started to yell, they’d end up fighting and he didn’t want to fight with her. “I need to get an idea of what damage was done and figure out what to do about insurance and all. Keelie never thinks about it. I want my guys to see I’m okay and if by chance it’s some thug from the neighborhood, they are damn well going to know that this bullshit doesn’t mean I don’t go to work.”
“You’re right,” Abby said mockingly. “And resting through the damn weekend, giving your body a couple days to recover really proves what a macho piece of work you are.”
Shifting his eyes to hers, he just stared.
Their gazes locked and after a minute, she looked away and groaned. Zach closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.
Did he have to go in?
Hell, probably not. But he needed to.
It was what he needed to do and couldn’t she—
He didn’t let himself finish that thought because the answer was going to hurt too much. Things were changing, he thought. He hoped. And maybe someday she’d understand what Steel Ink meant to him. Why he had to go. But not yet, he thought sourly as he turned away and pulled out his phone. It wasn’t quite ten. Keelie was probably heading in and she had to get there to open but he could probably get Javier to pick him up. “I’ll call Javi,” he said brusquely. “He only lives about twenty minutes or so from here. I—”
Abby’s hand closed around his and she plucked the phone away with the other. “No.”
“Abby, I—” Whatever he planned on saying was cut off as she reached up and pressed her fingers lightly to his mouth.
“No,” she said again, her voice quiet. “Look, I’m sorry. I . . . damn it, Zach, I don’t get why you can’t let yourself take another day when just looking at you hurts me, but if it’s that important for you to go in, I’ll damn well be the one to take you.”
Then she lowered her hand and leaned in, kissed him gently, avoiding the cut on the right side of his mouth. “I’ll take you in. You either call me or figure out a way home. And I’ll bring you dinner tonight and when you’re sore and bitching about how you shouldn’t have bothered going in, I get to point at you and say ha, ha, I told you so.”
“Is that how it works?” he asked, ignoring the way his voice went kind of raspy on him as he wrapped his hand around her ponytail and tugged her head back.
“Yeah. And you will say it.”
* * *
“I can’t believe he came in,” Javi muttered, watching as Zach limped around the break room, surveying the damage.
“Me, neither,” Abigale said.
Keelie snorted and glared at them both. “Javi, you should know better. I’m surprised he didn’t stumble in here yesterday, although I know it was late when he finally got out of the ER. Zach all but bleeds this place.” Then she gave Abigale a look of mocking condescension. “Although I’m not surprised the glamour girl doesn’t know any better.”
Javi chose that minute to beat a retreat, disappearing down the hallway. Abigale couldn’t say she was sorry. Folding her arms over her chest, she shot Zach a look, but he was preoccupied and the music Keelie had blaring from her office was loud enough to offer at least the illusion of a private conversation. Narrowing her eyes, she studied Keelie and debated. Did she go for subtle?
Keelie met her gaze with a bold, almost hostile glare and Abigale decided subtlety would be pointless.
Fine. Screw subtle.
“Keelie, you want to tell me what in the hell your problem is with me?”
Keelie shrugged, her narrow shoulders moving restlessly under the fishnet top she wore over a skintight tank top. Flowers and scrolled tattoos wrapped around her biceps and danced along her collarbone. Beautifully done, elegant
. . . almost soft, Abigale thought sometimes.
Ironic, because Abigale didn’t think there was anything soft about Keelie.
But then again, anytime Keelie was around her, it seemed like the woman was pissed off.
“Who says I have a problem with you?” Keelie asked.
“Pretty much every word out of your mouth, every look you give me, and the general why don’t you kiss my ass, bitch attitude you seem to have with me,” Abigale said, shrugging. “Look, maybe that’s just you, but I don’t see you calling everybody you meet glamour girl. I’d think maybe you had a problem with people from the entertainment industry, but I saw you talking to Sebastian and you didn’t treat him like something you’d scrape off your shoe, and you work with Zach just fine. Which leads me to think it’s just me.”
“I don’t care what industry you worked in,” Keelie snapped. She gave Abigale a dismissive glare and added, “If you think being an actress makes you special, you’re dead wrong.”
“I agree. It doesn’t make me special. It was a job and it’s not one I miss. So . . . if it’s not that, what is it?”
It was quick. Very quick, but Abigale saw it. That flicker of a glance toward Zach. Swallowing, she waited as Keelie gave another one of those jerky, dismissive shrugs. “It’s nothing.”
“You have a thing for him,” Abigale said when the other woman went to turn away.
Keelie stiffened.
Slowly, she lifted her head and Abigale could see her staring at Zach. And the man was still oblivious, squatting on the floor and eyeing the damage to the door. It was clear somebody had attempted to clean things up yesterday, but the door would have to be replaced. He had a look of resignation on his face as he shoved a hand through his hair. Even with his face battered and the bruising from his eye spilling down over his cheek, he looked beautiful. Too beautiful. Hell, just then, he looked a little more beautiful . . . like a fallen angel ready to go on the warpath.
A second later, Keelie turned back around and her mismatched eyes met Abigale’s. “A thing for him? You think that touches it?” Her voice was low and angry. She paused, her mouth working as though she was looking for something else she needed to say. Finally, she just shook her head. “You don’t know what I feel. But that’s not a surprise. You don’t even know how he feels about shit, half the time. You’re so fucking clueless, and that makes you pathetic. You’re supposed to be his best friend, but you jerk him around like a puppet. No wonder Sebastian was so pissed off at you.”
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