by Anna Martin
He scratched at my nipple with the blunt edge of his fingernail, and I squirmed underneath him. When he closed his teeth around it, I shuddered, then lifted my hips so he could feel that I was hard, wanting him. As always.
After his tongue had finished its part in the act, he looked up at me through sex-heavy eyes.
“Do you still want me to top you?”
I nodded, throat suddenly dry. “Yeah.”
“Can I?”
“Please.”
He smirked, something in his expression telling me he’d probably thought about this for a while. His hands had been steadily roaming over my skin, quietly exploring the places I knew he liked best: my sides, where I was ticklish, the rise of my biceps, the line of my hipbone, where the slightest touch turned me on.
I was more than willing to let him take the lead in this. His confidence seemed to be growing as we spent more time together, and I loved that sure, intimate touch that told me this meant something to him.
Zane stroked my cock a few times before reaching back farther, and I spread my legs obligingly, letting him find my hole and flick his fingertip over it. When I let out a long, unsteady breath, he smirked again, and I grabbed the lube from the nightstand to push into his hand.
He immediately slicked up his fingers and pushed one just inside me, just the fingertip, and I tried not to push back into his hand. There was going to be a certain amount of give and take here. I couldn’t demand and expect him to know when to give. Zane deserved to be able to explore this new thing in his own time… but fuck, he was driving me crazy.
I reached down and grabbed hold of my cock, giving it a few hard tugs to ease some of the pressure, before Zane batted my hand away.
“Behave,” he demanded.
“No chance.”
He laughed and pushed a second finger in alongside the first. Then he curled his fingers and expertly found my prostate.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I gasped, my hips rising off the bed with no instruction from me to do so.
“Not on someone else. On myself… plenty of times.”
The image arrived in my head fully formed—Zane lying back, two fingers pushed deep inside himself as he searched out that spot that made men see stars.
“I’m ready. Now, please.”
My words were almost garbled, but Zane got the message, kissing my stomach, then pulling his fingers free.
“Do you want me to use a condom?”
“Huh? No. No, it’s fine.”
“Okay. I just wanted to ask.”
I hoped he’d never stop being this sweet to me.
More lube was smeared along his cock. Then he bit his lip as he looked down at me. “Like this, right? I mean, you don’t want to move?”
“This is fine. I promise. Please, Zane.”
My use of his name seemed to prompt him on, and he carefully pushed the head of his cock against my hole, stuttering only once before sheathing himself completely.
“Oh, God,” I murmured.
“I was about to say the same thing,” he said, and then he laughed. I carefully pulled my knees back to my chest, and he thrust into me again.
With my hand on his lower back I guided his movements, which slowly gained in confidence. Soon he had built up a slow, punishing rhythm that sent shivers down my spine. I’d never thought of him as a dominant sort of man, so when he took my hands in his, lifted them above my head, and pinned them there, the action was as surprising as it was arousing.
“You look good like this,” he said, looking down at my body stretched out beneath him.
“I feel good. You feel better. Fuck, Zane.”
I turned my head to the side, baring my neck for him and not caring if he left marks there. I’d wear them with pride, so everyone knew I was his.
It had been a long, long time since I’d done this last, since I’d given anyone else control of my body. I handed everything over to Zane and let him own me, control me, each sure thrust of his hips making me dizzy with wanting.
When his lips found mine again, it was like I’d not been kissed in forever. Zane’s tongue was soft and sweet, and he coaxed my lips apart, then flicked it against my own until I was gasping into his mouth.
“Can I have my hands back?” I asked, breathless.
“Hmm?”
“I want to touch you.”
“Oh.”
He unfurled his fingers from mine, and I immediately wrapped one arm around his shoulders, palming one of his asscheeks with the other hand, encouraging him to fuck me harder.
“Oh! This is good too,” he mumbled.
I laughed and drew him down into another kiss. For a few moments everything slowed down as I lost myself in him, wanting to keep that moment—him inside me, loving me—alive forever. When he broke away from my lips, Zane pressed his forehead to mine and began to fuck me harder again, seeking out his own pleasure and mine.
“Zane,” I said, reaching down to pull on my cock, wanting to take myself over the edge even though I didn’t want it to stop.
“You first,” he told me.
I nodded against his neck and pulled my orgasm from my body, spilling hard into my hand and crying out. I only just noticed that Zane was coming too, his face pressed tight to the curve of my neck. For long moments we held each other, unmoving, as our thundering hearts slowed to a more regular pace. Zane kissed me, over and over, and I shuddered as he pulled away.
Once we’d cleaned up, neither of us was ready to sleep. Zane sprawled on top of me, our fingers in constant motion against each other.
“So, you don’t mind topping, then?”
He let out a breathless laugh. “No. It wasn’t bad.”
“I thought it was pretty fucking amazing.”
“Mm. I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”
“Why did you think you would hate it?”
Zane yawned widely and rearranged himself on my chest. “Hate is a strong word, I suppose. I just like it when someone else takes control and fucks me hard.”
I snorted with laughter. “Yeah, you do.”
“Fucking you hard was fun, though. You make some great noises when you have a dick in your ass.”
“Oh my God, Zane.”
“What? If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.”
I shifted us both on the bed to avoid having to talk about it, if at all possible. He stretched and came with me without complaint, then kissed the bruises he’d left on my shoulder and chest. I didn’t mind that they were there, liked that he was kissing me better.
“So, can I fuck you again?” he asked as soon as I’d settled.
“Mhmm.”
“Okay. I’m going to keep talking about it, just so you know, because you look adorable when you blush.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
Chapter 13
Since Harrison had started walking, his ability to move seemingly huge distances in a very short space of time was taking us by surprise. For that reason, when there was a knock on the door Zane picked him up, meaning Harrison couldn’t escape out into the hall, before answering it.
I leaned over the back of the sofa to see who it was—we had to buzz visitors into the building, so it was rare anyone knocked.
Two police officers waited, stony-faced and official.
“Can I help you?” Zane asked.
“Are you Zane Al-Jazari?”
“Oh, God. Who died?”
I sprang to my feet and raced to the door.
“Excuse me?” one of the officers asked.
“Who’s dead?”
I gently lifted Harrison out of his arms and balanced him on my hip, then wrapped my arm around Zane’s waist.
“No one’s dead, Mr. Al-Jazari.”
“That’s your dad’s name, right?” I asked. I’d never heard it before, only ever known him as Zane Hadlin, but remembered the conversation when he said he’d adopted his mom’s na
me when he moved back to New York.
“Yeah.”
“Sir, we wanted to ask you some questions about the murder of Sabri Al-Jazari.”
His eyes hardened. “That was years ago now. Why are you here? The guy who did it is inside. What else are you going to do?”
“The man who was convicted of your brother’s murder was recently released from prison after an appeal. It was decided there was insufficient evidence.”
I could feel him sag against me and wanted nothing more than to hold him up.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” I demanded.
“We’ve found it difficult to track Mr. Al-Jazari down,” the second officer said. “He’s moved a number of times since returning to New York.”
“What do I need to do?” Zane asked. “I want this done and gone again.”
“We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Okay.”
I opened the door wider to let the two men in, not wanting to bring this into my home, not with Harrison around. It wasn’t like I had a choice.
Zane put his hand on my arm and squeezed it. “Take him into our room. Please, El.”
“I want to be there….”
“I don’t want him to be around this.”
I nodded and gave him a look that communicated all I was feeling: if you need me, shout for me, please don’t cut me out, don’t let them intimidate you.
I shut the bedroom door softly behind us and settled on the bed with Harrison on my lap. He was irritable, probably feeding off the horrible atmosphere, and I submitted to the inevitability of cartoons and stuck a Disney movie on to distract him.
Within moments he settled down.
It took nearly an hour for the police to go through whatever it was with Zane. No matter how much I strained to hear what was being said, there were no raised voices, no sounds of distress from the living room.
I heard the front door shut again, and then Zane crept into our room and curled into my side. I ran my fingers through his hair, hopefully soothing him, and felt him sigh.
“Tell me?” I asked. “Please?”
“During the appeal the defense lawyer picked apart everything I’d said in the original trial. They decided it was more important to keep me safe and hidden than to get me back into the courtroom as an adult, so that’s why I wasn’t called up. They let the bastard go on time served, since they couldn’t prove it was a premeditated murder or gang-related.”
“But it clearly was?”
“Yeah.”
“What happens now?”
“Not much,” he said with a halfhearted shrug. “I keep my head down, hope he doesn’t find me, hope even more that I’m not on his radar. There’s no way of knowing.”
The idea struck me as absurdly horrific, that this was the life Zane and his brothers had been leading before their mom shipped them out to Vermont. There was no chance of him going back to that life—I was sure of that much—although I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about him.
“Do you want to put in a civil case against this guy?” I asked. “We could probably do it.”
Zane shook his head. “That would just put a target on my back. Plus, you’re already fighting a case against Oliver. The last thing we need is to pile another one on top of that.”
I’d forgotten about Oliver.
“I hope he doesn’t get hold of this,” I murmured, unthinking. Zane stiffened next to me. “You know what I mean,” I qualified. “He doesn’t need any extra ammunition.”
“I suppose not.”
“Don’t you dare leave me,” I said, only half joking.
He buried his face in my side, throwing an arm over both Harrison and me. “I don’t even think that’s an option anymore.”
The next time I had an appointment with Linda, I took Zane with me. His confidence had been knocked since the police visit, and he deserved to know what was going on. He was an integral part of our family, and I needed him to know that.
Leo offered to babysit, so I took him up on that and dropped my son off at the house he shared with Reid. I was surprised to see the doctor there, he was so often at the hospital, and gave him a brotherly hug before I left. The guy had saved Leo’s life, and I loved him for that.
We drove across the bridge to Linda’s midtown office, Zane’s bare feet on the dashboard as he fiddled with his phone. When I asked, he said he was texting Cass, and I left it at that. I guessed his brother knew what had been going on, although Zane hadn’t told me anything explicitly, other than that his mom knew Sab’s murderer had been released.
I tended to agree with him on one point—Vermont was the best place for his mother right now.
Linda greeted both Zane and me with warm smiles and ushered us through to her office.
“So, the bad news is that Oliver has reopened the custody case,” she said with her painful frankness. “The good news is, he’s talking utter bullshit.”
The way Zane’s jaw dropped was more than a little amusing to me, but I kept the giggle inside.
“Okay,” I said, the gravity of the situation soon wiping away any residual humor. “Do you think we’ll be able to settle this out of court?”
Linda didn’t meet my eyes but messed around with some papers on her desk for a moment, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh.
“I hope so,” she said. “Instinct is telling me probably not, though. The bottom line is that Oliver’s trying to tell you who you’re allowed to date and who’s allowed access to your son. Obviously he can’t do that. Zane isn’t putting Harrison in any type of danger.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m sorry, excuse me?”
“I am,” Zane repeated, looking from me to Linda and back again. “With that guy out, who knows what will happen now. He could come after me.”
“Okay, I’m going to need full disclosure here, boys,” Linda said. Her grim expression made me nervous.
“I was the only witness when my brother was shot dead in a gang-motivated murder,” Zane said in a rush. “His killer has just been released on appeal on time served.”
“Oh, fuck,” Linda sighed. “Witness protection?”
“They haven’t offered it to me,” Zane said. “I was a minor when I testified—this was eight years ago. So technically, they don’t know who I am.”
“Technically… all right. In practice?”
“It wouldn’t be difficult for them to figure it out,” he admitted.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Linda muttered, running her hands over her face so the words were muffled. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“We only found this out a few days ago,” I added. “So we’re still trying to figure out what it all means, in real terms.”
“Don’t go into witness protection, for God’s sake,” she said. “That puts a big red flag on what’s going on with Oliver.”
“Will this mean Harrison gets taken away?” Zane asked. “Because I’m serious—if that’s a risk, I’ll go back to Vermont. School finishes soon anyway. I can go back and live with my mom.”
I was about to protest—to say there was no way I was going to let him go, to point out that he’d promised he wouldn’t leave us, but Linda held up a hand to stop me.
“That’s an option. Ah, Ellis, an option. We have to consider all of them.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I said, then turned to Linda. “I don’t want him to go.”
Linda exhaled noisily. “Okay. Let’s keep this out of the custody argument as much as humanly fucking possible. I can’t imagine any judge in the state deciding that the best place for Harrison would be with the parent who abandoned him only a few months ago, so we definitely have the upper hand. I’m going to get in contact with Oliver’s lawyer and see if we can settle this out of court, quickly, so we can deal with Zane’s problem.”
“Does Zane have a problem?” I asked.
“I’d fucking say so. But not for long. I’m going to find out why the hell a fucking
murderer is walking free on the streets of my fucking city after eight years served.”
Zane reached out and squeezed my hand. “Ms. McKey, I’m an art student. I can’t afford to pay you for something like this.”
Linda rolled her eyes. “Fuck a duck, Zane. I’ll do it pro bono. What’s money, after all?”
“Thank you. I just… thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said darkly. “It’s nowhere near over.”
Leo and Reid invited us to stay for dinner, and we ordered in from the Japanese place that did really good vegan food, according to Zane. Reid seemed quietly amused by Zane’s enthusiasm and was happy to let my boyfriend pick the dishes.
Leo had moved into Reid’s place a few months before Harrison was born, not long after he was discharged from the doctor’s care. They’d kept their relationship secret from the hospital for a long time, since Reid had been concerned about the possible repercussions on his career. They were out and proud now, though, and I silently guessed there might be more commitment in their future.
The house was nice, a three-story brownstone with views over Prospect Park. For Leo, the subway was only a few minutes away, meaning he could get to his clients in most parts of the city with relative ease.
Not long after Leo moved in, Reid had told me that my brother had taken over all of the third floor with his work stuff, and sure enough, the two rooms at the top of the house were full of parts and the skeletons of long-dead computers.
The rest of the house, thankfully, had more of Reid’s influence. The living room was decorated with rich wooden floors and dark leather sofas. Very masculine.
I was worried that Zane would be funny about the leather, but when I mentioned it to him he leaned over and whispered in my ear that it was fake, and he was too polite to say anything. I couldn’t hold in my giggles at that and pulled him onto my lap to bury my face in his neck. Even when I’d gotten past my amusement, he stayed on my lap. I liked him there.
Watching Reid with Harrison was what made me think he was getting broody. He was older than me and had made no secret of the fact he wanted children in the future. I guessed he was also well placed to arrange all of the medical stuff that came with surrogacy. Oliver and I had hired a company who did all of that for us, but it could be done without one.