Zero: A protective hero romantic suspense, page 17
She quirks an eyebrow skeptically and I can’t blame her. She doesn’t know how I haven’t had a Xanax in days or I no longer carry around my gun.
He makes me feel safe, and with what he’s doing to find Randy, I feel more in control of my life, hopeful. Hopeful that Randy will be captured.
Softening her voice, she nears me. “I only want you to be careful.”
And there it is. She’s like everyone else, treating me like a child. Zero doesn’t do that. Not once.
“Yeah right.” I place a hand on my hip and glare, fed up with everyone telling me what to do and having their own agendas. “And why? So I’ll be out of the picture? You only want him for yourself. Next you’ll be throwing yourself at him like Arissa.”
As I say the words, I know they’re misplaced. Lorna isn’t like that, and even as I knew it, I couldn’t stop myself. She gasps and swiftly jerks away from me as if I’m a wrecking ball and she doesn’t want to get hit.
“I’m sorry.” I immediately reach for her but think better of it when she shrinks from my touch. “What I said was low and so not true.”
“You know it, bitch.” Her tone is hard but not bitter, and she closes the gap between us.
“I deserved that and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Because you just had a run-in with Arissa. I saw it in her face.” Her lips twist in a wry grin. “But I’m nothing like her and don’t want any piece of Zero. I got my own man problems.”
I sigh and pull her in for a hug. “I don’t deserve you. You’re right. Arissa makes me so…”
“You and me both.”
“And thanks for looking out for me. I know you don’t know him, but trust me when I say, he’s a good guy.”
“Be careful and call or text if you need me.”
“I will.” I plant a kiss on her cheek and fly out the door.
Once at my apartment, I glance around the parking lot as I make my way to the entrance, always aware of my surroundings. In the far corner of the lot, a small car parks and turns off its light.
My steps slow as I near the entrance, anticipating the driver to get out but he doesn’t. Strangely, this reminds me of when Elvis was outside Club Tidal, and come to think of it, it could be Elvis.
But that doesn’t make sense. Elvis has no reason to be here.
Shaking it off as weird, I enter the building and take the elevator to my floor. When I step out into the hallway, Zero leans against my front door, all casual dominance, and I practically sprint to him, wearing a goofy, uncontained grin.
God, I want to kiss him.
But I won’t. As much as it pains me not to put my mouth on his, I will respect his wishes. Kisses don’t mean the same thing to him, and while it’s hard to wrap my head around that, I can’t begin to comprehend what he’s been through, and I won’t betray his trust in me. I won’t willingly hurt him.
His face lights up at the sight of me as a glimmer of a smile dances in his gaze. “Hi.”
It’s the most animated I’ve ever seen him, and my pulse speeds up. Breathless, not from running but from the sheer joy of seeing him, I stop nearly on top of him. “Hi.”
His eyes wander from my head to toe, and he reaches for my hair, fingers playing with the ends while his knuckles lightly brush against my collarbone, causing a frisson of excitement to skitter down my spine.
Desire smolders in his gaze. “I have missed you.”
Four simple words are all it takes to let my guard down. “Me too.”
Quickly, I fumble to unlock the door, and once inside, he kisses the underside of my jaw. A jolt of heat rockets through me and my eyes flutter closed.
He’s so close. Leathery masculinity surrounds me, and I lean into his grip as his mouth nibbles its way down my throat. I melt at the heat curling low in my core, his beard tickling my neck, and my heart spasming.
I squeeze my eyes tight, afraid to open them and find out this isn’t real but all a dream. And when he pulls back, my eyes shoot open to find him removing his long-sleeved button-down shirt and letting it drop to the floor.
Underneath, he’s in a white T-shirt, molding to his taut chest, and I copy him, promptly pulling my shirt over my head. A playful grin dances on his face as he kicks our clothes to the side and leads us to my bedroom where he places me on the bed.
His gaze holds mine as he kicks off his black boots then freezes, watching my fingers unbutton my jean shorts. I pause on the zipper, and his eyes bounce to mine.
In the dark room, the glint of moonlight and glow from the streetlights are enough to see his face. Anticipation and hunger loom large in his verdant pupils.
“You need help with that?” His eyes flick to where my fingers are immobile on the zipper.
“In a hurry?” I tease the metal clasp down, never letting my gaze stray from his.
“Yeah, it’s been the longest fucking twenty-four hours of my life.” His voice is raspy and laden with want. “I’m going to be fast and dirty the first time, then I plan to take my time.”
Fervor blazes a path to my core, and as if a starter pistol was fired, we bound from the white line, hastily removing our clothes in a race to the finish.
My shorts drop to the floor, then bra on top of that, and my underwear finishes the pile only seconds later. Before I can check on his progress, Zero reaches for me and pulls me onto his lap, facing him so that my legs straddle his bare, muscled thighs.
His jeans and socks are discarded, but he isn’t completely naked. My wet, hot sex presses against the bulge of his boxers. I wrap my arms around his neck and stare into his eyes. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and I quiver. It’s such an intimate and sweet thing for him to do.
“We’re doing this?” he whispers.
It’s an odd thing to say when we’re chest to chest, and I’m totally bared to him, and I wonder if he’s having second thoughts. Selfishly, I’m not backing down. If he doesn’t want this, he’s going to have to stop me.
“It’s about time, don’t you think?”
He rasps a chuckle and his hand sensually trails a path down my back. Our faces are only inches apart, and this is both torture and bliss. His lips are full and so close, breath warm on my cheeks and lips.
I scoot closer and grind against his growing erection. The backs of my nails score over the ridges of his shoulder blades and back, and he moans. “Morgan, you keep that up and I’ll have to spank you.”
Giggling, I bite my bottom lip, not in the least bit surprised at his dominance. “Maybe I want you to.”
“Maybe later. First, I want to make you come.” His eyes are dark and intense. “Scream my name.” Then his mouth is on me. Everywhere.
He kisses my neck, my chest, then the tops of each breast. He’s all lips, tongue, and teeth. Wild and aggressive, teasing and biting, and making me giddy with want. He’s the only thing I can think of. His name, the only thing I can say.
Short, soft whiskers burn my skin in the most delicious way, and together with his hands, I will have the imprint of him everywhere. Exactly how I want it.
His tongue flicks over my erect nipple, lips sucking until I gasp, body tensing as a decadent wave ripples and swells within me. He runs two fingers over my slick folds, and I sigh into the crook of his neck and sink my teeth into the tender juncture between his neck and shoulder when he thrusts both fingers inside of me.
Slow then fast, every move he makes is pure pleasure, and I squeeze the back of his neck as my climax spirals inside of me, spinning and twisting, tighter and tighter until I explode.
“Oh, Zero. Oh, yes.”
When I come down and open my eyes, like me, he’s breathing heavily and smugly staring at me, satisfied with himself. I palm the length of him through his cotton boxers. Rock hard and hot.
Desperate to please him, to give, I dip my hand under the waistband and grip his girth. My fingers stroke up and down his shaft and around the ridge of his head. Beads of his arousal make my fingers slide easily over his flesh, and his eyes glaze over with every stroke.
He groans, sinking his fingers into my thighs, and whispers in my ear. “Let go of me.”
My breath hitches and I still, fingers gripping him firmly. “What?”
Grunting, he tries to pull away but I’m unmoving, fingers firmly grasping him, too dazed and a little confused to do much else. “What’s wrong?”
“Fuck, nothing.” His soft smile matches the way his hand rubs against my cheek. “I want inside you.”
I whimper, nodding, and release him. I want him inside, so much, it’s almost too much to bear.
He leans forward, taking me with him, and I squeal as I hang upside down, legs firmly wrapped around his waist as he pulls two condoms from the pocket of his jeans on the floor. His grasp of me is solid and I’ve never felt safer.
Once I’m upright and the condom is on, he positions his crown close to my entrance. My thighs tense and I lift up, moving closer to his cock and lowering myself onto him, the slightest bit. He’s big and I lift and lower a little farther, easing him inside.
Zero sinks his hand into my hair. “That’s it. Jesus, you’re so tight.”
I shudder when he’s seated all the way in, filling me gloriously, and quake some more when he starts to move, thrusting upward in long, firm, strokes. I gasp and hang on tight, seeing stars behind my closed eyelids.
His hands are everywhere, and I want to feel them on me forever. Hard, heavy pulses build at the base of my spine, and my muscles tense with every one of his upward thrusts.
He grabs my thighs and presses them down around him, gritting his teeth. “Need deeper.”
I yelp as he suddenly pulls my slick chest to his and spins me over onto my back. His body spasms as I tighten around him, and there he is, holding himself above me, coiled tight like a spring ready to fly.
I lick my lips and nod. “Don’t hold back.”
I sigh at the weight of him, every inch of his hard, magnificent body pressing into me, and I suck at the salt on his bare shoulder, wanting to devour him.
He pummels me with hard, heavy pulses and chants, “Morgan.”
20
ZERO
I grab Morgan by the waist, making sure her arms and legs are wrapped tight around me and spin until I’m once again in a sitting position. My arms wind around her waist and her legs tighten, and the angle of my cock inside her changes and deepens. Her tits press into my chest and her forehead falls against my shoulder.
Shit, I never want to let her go.
She feels perfect.
Made for me.
Usually, I don’t crave sex, hate the skin on skin contact, but fuck if this woman isn’t obliterating all of my hang-ups.
Our bodies rock together and tension builds at the base of my balls, heat rising within until my movements are desperate and frenzied. She moans, near coming, and I roll us once more, pinning her beneath me, wanting to draw this out. Make it last forever.
I thrust deep, on the verge, and she splinters apart, crying out my name. No longer wanting to prolong this, needing to come with her, her desire fuels mine and it isn’t long before I climax and spill my seed.
She wraps her arms and legs tighter around me and I collapse on top of her, face buried in her sweet scent and the warmth of her neck.
We must fall asleep entangled like that because when I’m awakened by incessant ringing, it takes a while to remove myself from Morgan. She murmurs and rolls away from me and the direction of the shrill-sounding device.
Leaning over the bed, I snatch my jeans from the heap on the floor and fish out my phone. The ringing never stops.
It’s Hazel, and I’m tempted to ignore her and handle whatever this is in the morning until I note the many unread texts.
All from her.
Not ready to deal with her, I silence the phone and read them.
Hazel: Welcome back.
Your plane landed hours ago, why aren’t you home?
Then she becomes increasingly agitated.
Hazel: Is everything okay?
Please answer.
I need to talk to you.
Where are you?
Now on silent, my phone vibrates in my hand. Her again. I curl my fingers around the slender device, wanting to crush it. What is her problem?
Morgan stirs in bed beside me and stretches. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I run my hand soothingly down her bare arm and she snuggles into my hip, her head dropping back onto the pillow.
I hit the answer button on my phone and I whisper, not bothering to hide how pissed off I am, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh my God, you’re alive.” Hazel’s concern should provoke some kind of sympathy, but all the texts and calls only irritate me and rouse questions.
This isn’t like her. She retreats. All of this—trying to reach me and the way in which she’s going about it—isn’t unusual by itself. She’s done this before, shortly after her release from captivity. But something about this time…something’s different, and another sign that she isn’t on her medication. If she were in her right mind, she’d know I don’t respond well to this shit.
“Is there a point to this? Are you hurt? Is my place on fire?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my voice low.
“You came back tonight but never showed up. Never answered my texts. I was worried.”
I instantly regret not talking to her after she was left alone with Morgan. We haven’t seen each other since then, only spoken via texts, and I was waiting until I got back to tell her to go home.
“Zero, are you there?”
“Hazel, I’ll talk to you later at my place.”
“What? Where are you?”
“Good night, Hazel.” The razor-sharp tone of my voice causes Morgan to bristle at my side.
She inches up into sitting, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Fuck, I woke her up.
Our gazes lock in the moonlight and she mouths, “Is she all right?”
I nod though Hazel repeats her question on the other end of the line, knowing full well she has no right to know where I am or what I’m doing.
Morgan kicks free of the sheets and bounds from the bed, naked. My mouth dries and cock twitches at her beautiful creamy skin. Last night, my hands ran over every curve and line of her body and suddenly, they itch to do it all again.
But my insatiable desire isn’t enough to erase Hazel’s agitated ramblings. I have to do something about this, and while I didn’t want to call her doctor, now more than ever, it’s apparent that I have no other choice.
“Zero, just tell me you’re okay and that I’ll see you soon. Please.”
A knot of tension forms in my chest. “Hazel, I’m fine. Get some sleep and I’ll see you later.”
Ending the call, I drop the phone on the side table and rest my head against the wall behind me. Morgan strolls back into the room, carrying water and a bowl of grapes.
“Is she all right?” She hands me a bottle and the bowl before slipping in beside me.
“She will be.” I pop a grape into my mouth, chew, swallow, and then take a long pull from the bottle.
Morgan sips hers and studies me. “It’s okay if you have to go.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere.” I drag her to my side and she settles her head on my chest, and with a mind of their own, my fingers brush through her long hair. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. You don’t apologize for her behavior.”
“I wonder when she last took her pills.”
She tilts her head up to stare at me. “Are you serious?”
Solemnly, I nod and rub a hand across my face. “Yeah. She suffers from PTSD, and depressive and anxiety disorders. She’s got a mix of drugs she should take daily to help stabilize her mood and anxiety.”
“Should we go over there?”
“No, not like this.” It also doesn’t help that right now I won’t be of any use. I’m on edge and itching for down time, needing to decompress. “Hazel needs to cool off and so do I. It’s time for her to go home. I should have told her that after I left the two of you together.”
“Is it me?”
I tighten my hold and press a kiss to the top of her head. “No. Anything can set her off when she isn’t taking her medication. I’m not sure how long she’s been away from home. It’s time for her to get back to her routine.”
Morgan nestles into me, and the torturous sweep of her lips across my chest causes a fire to spark inside me.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“I’m sorry you woke up. You must be tired.”
“A little…and sore.” She places her mouth on me once more, and the unfamiliar yet increasingly insistent desire to kiss her surges within me.
I don’t find the thought repulsive, the opposite in fact, and strangely, without a doubt, I’ll never tire of her need to kiss me, touch me.
I brush her hair from her face and cup her jaw, tipping it upward so I can see her gaze, read her. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m a little hungry.” She plucks a grape from the bowl on my lap. “And if you’re up to it, I’d like to hear about your trip. How was Miami?”
I drop another grape into her mouth. “Okay. Both good and not so good. We intercepted the transaction which is a huge win.”
“But?”
“We didn’t gain any more information than we already have.”
“You still don’t know who’s behind it?”
“Yeah.”
“And that means you can’t stop future transactions, right?”
“Yeah. We want to shut them down, and while we know some of the regular buyers, none of them are talking. Not even the informants.”
The operation was a success in most ways, and while I was happy that we rescued a group of teenagers from being sold, I was also frustrated. Whoever is behind this knows how to cover their tracks or is so well removed from the daily activities that others don’t know who they were.
“This really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
