I was having trouble finding words, so it was great that he didn’t need any. He kissed me as he moved in and out, each stroke came with him saying something wonderful. I almost couldn’t keep up with his adoration. I just knew they moved through me as smoothly as his cock did as it thrust in and out, eventually picking up speed until I was desperate for completion. The same feeling as before overtook me as I was close to coming. The need for him, the connection, the explosion that pleasure created right before it was all consuming.
I bucked beneath him, coming all at once with no warning. Mine must have triggered his because soon he followed me there, my name on his lips, his strong arms keeping him from collapsing on me as he did.
Those same arms held me while I shook through the aftermath. I hadn’t known it could be like that. I hadn’t the imagination to picture it.
When he kissed me, pulling out to get a towel to clean us both, I was still in a haze. Enough of one to curl up against him when it was offered and let him hold me for the few seconds it took for my mind to completely shut down to sleep. The deepest, darkest, happiest rest there ever was.
I woke up before he did once again. He slept with one arm draped over me, the other supporting my head on his arm. His eyes were closed as he faced me, once again silently asleep. There was hardly any light in the room, and I wasn’t sure what had woken me. His face wasn’t restful, and he made a sound in his throat that didn’t sound happy, more like a pleasureless groan.
The poor guy. He was having a bad dream, that’s what had roused me. As gently as I could, I ran my hand through his hair. I didn’t know how to comfort people from a bad dream. We really hadn’t had that in our lives, and it was better if we didn’t get sick in the middle of the night because rousing my father for help was like poking a starving bear. He was just as likely to holler than help.
But we’d helped each other, Hope, Bridget, and me. Sometimes, we’d climbed in each other’s beds just to hold on when the nights were long. I did like to have my hair stroked, maybe he would, too.
He shifted slightly, his features evening out before his eyes opened to slits. “Hey, princess.” His voice was low. “Was I snoring?”
I shook my head. “No.” Better not to mention his nightmare if he didn’t remember it. That might be uncomfortable for him.
He kissed me. I hadn’t expected it, but I quickly kissed him back. In this early morning where we were both hardly awake, it was so sweet that he’d done that. He slipped his hands between us, finding my clit and rubbing it gently. I gasped against his mouth.
“Zeke.” I didn’t know exactly what I was asking for, but I wanted more. That much I knew. I pushed against his finger, asking him to do it harder. Unlike the night before, it didn’t seem like there was such a thing as too much right then.
I wasn’t sore; I was needy.
I reached between us and found his cock. He was hardening already, and I took him in my hand, giving it a strong hold so that I could stroke him while he did the same for me. We moaned against each other, our foreheads pressing together like they were magnets that couldn’t stay apart.
It would be easy to come right now, I just had to let go and it would happen. He pulled his finger away, and I made a sound of disappointment. It was pretty much a whine, to let him know how much I disliked that. Who needed words when I could make myself understood perfectly well without them?
He pushed my hand away and pressed his tip inside of me. I gasped. We were absolutely not shielded by a condom, and for just that second, we were skin to skin in the most intimate way possible.
“I just want to feel you for one second, Layla. Just one.” He pulled out fast, grabbing a condom from his drawer, this time sheathing himself in swift movements that were much better than what I’d done the night before. He pressed back inside of me.
I gasped at the fullness of him, closing my eyes to feel the weight of our bodies joined together. I squeezed him inside of me, letting my muscles welcome him, drawing him closer to where I wanted him to be.
He moaned. It was a great sound. I wanted him to crave this as much as I did. I wanted to be the source of his pleasure, the reason for him feeling all of the sparks that were happening between us.
We moved together, and soon he drew from me my own noises—gasps, moans, pleas to match his own. He swore, and I dug my fingers into his back. The bed squeaked and shifted. It was the most beautiful collection of sounds I’d ever heard.
And then I came. It was so easy this time. No thought to it, no surprise, as though my body just knew how to do it, and this time was happy to comply with what I wanted. Needed. He followed me shortly after, and we held on as the waves rushed through, surging and eventually stopping, but leaving me quivering in his arms. I pressed my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat gallop and then slow while we both fell back down to Earth from wherever we went in those moments.
I kept my face against him so he couldn’t see my eyes, couldn’t read my expression, couldn’t know what that had just meant, that spontaneous joining first thing in the morning before the world was really awake for us.
I smoothed my hand over his muscles. He was built like a man, like he’d spent years honing his strength and wouldn’t be discounted. I’d dreamed of this man before it was appropriate to do so. I’d touched myself in the dark, a stupid teenager when he’d been taking out women, feeding them expensive meals and stroking his hand on their bare skin. I might be famous—infamous, really—but he was real. And he’d never take me seriously until I took myself that way.
I dropped my hand. I wouldn’t be another nothing to him. I had to earn this, but so did he.
And therein lay the problem. He didn’t want to. Relationships weren’t his thing. So I had to get myself under control before I fucked this entire thing up, and this was the last time I was ever in his bed before I made it impossible for him to decide to change his mind. I knew better than my last thought. You couldn’t really get a person to alter who they were at their core. The thing was, I didn’t think Zeke was made for being alone. He needed love as much as I did, and if he were going to decide he’d been wrong, I wanted him to do that with me.
I kept ranking up points on the pathetic score, but that was what I wanted.
It was Zeke who kept telling me I should have what I wanted.
I simply had to figure out how.
He pulled out of me gently and discarded the condom into the wastebasket next to the bed. Rain pelted down on the roof. When had that started? It sounded rough, like it was quite a storm.
“If that keeps up, we’re not running today.” He yawned. “Or going to the café. I’ll make us something. The chef doesn’t come in until after breakfast.”
I smiled at him. “Sounds good.”
He wrapped me against him again. “Go back to sleep. It’s too early for doing anything and too late to watch the sunrise. I’m not ready to face the day yet. I want more time just in this bed with you.”
Zeke was such a contrast of words. One second, he said something like that, which made me think he did want me in his life, and the next, he was telling me not to be needy. How was I supposed to keep up when he was a walking contradiction? If I asked, that would probably qualify as needy. And fuck, I didn’t want to be that.
We lay there like that, and I assumed he’d fallen back asleep until he spoke again. “You are completely awake.”
I lifted my head. “How did you know?”
“You breathe differently when you’re sleeping. That adorable little snore. I like it. And when you’re not doing it, you’re awake.”
That was embarrassing. “I’m sorry if it—”
“Layla.” He cut me off. “I just told you. I like it. A lot. So give it back to me so I can go back to sleep, too. Unless you absolutely can’t, in which case, I’ll get up with you and we can both be up for the day.”
I lay back down. I was still tired. He’d worn me out with our morning sex, and it would be nice to sleep a
little bit. If he really didn’t mind that I snored, then I supposed it was okay. Still, I might see if there was anything I could do in the future to stop doing that. I’d kind of thought I’d stopped as I’d gotten older.
Snuggling against him, I listened to his heartbeat again; I let his warmth drag me under.
I dreamed that I was on a beach, walking next to the water. The ocean dragged out and then came back again. My sisters were with me, but they were up ahead, leaving me behind because I couldn’t seem to walk as fast as they did. But that was okay. This was my pace, and it suited me. They were running for something, and I got to feel the water at my feet, the sand dipping and raising. The shells floating by.
“Layla.” Zeke wore a black V-neck shirt and a pair of light-colored khakis. He was also barefoot. He was just ahead of me and extended his hand to me, but when I went to take it, he was gone.
When I woke up again, with Zeke still asleep next to me, rain pelted the roof, matching my tears.
I wiped them away. They would probably constitute being needy.
Chapter Seventeen
I heard him enter the kitchen, but I didn’t turn around because I was terrified if I did, I’d spill the coffee I was making all over myself. As I was wearing his shirt that I’d picked up off the floor and it was nothing more than a men’s V-neck white undergarment, I didn’t want to destroy it with the coffee I was sure would never come out in the wash.
His arms came around me from behind, and he kissed the side of my neck. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”
Well, that much was obvious since I was, in fact, here fixing us both breakfast. “Careful, this is hot.”
“I told you I’d do it.”
I held up the coffee cup, and he took it from me. I picked up my own and moved out of the sanctity of his arms, mostly because I’d thought the word sanctity, and I had to get my shit under control before he ousted me from his life for being ridiculous.
I took a sip. Yep, it was terrible. Absolutely horrific. He didn’t have a coffee machine that I understood how to use, so I’d done the best I could. Why couldn’t he have one of those pod machines like everyone else I knew? Stick the pod in, make coffee. His had levers and gadgets. This had not worked out well. I could even have dealt with the old-fashioned carafe one.
“I should have let you. This is bad.” I set my cup down. “
He winced as he sipped his. “Yes, awful. Put that down. I’ll make more.”
I’d cooked up some eggs, and I was sure they were better than my coffee. I picked up my fork and placed the egg on the end of it in his mouth. “This, you’ll like.”
Zeke took a bite, and I let myself watch him take the food from the fork into his mouth and chew. He nodded at me. “Yes, really, really good. You can cook.”
“I can prepare very simple, basic meals. I would never say I can cook.” I moved away from him. “And obviously, I can’t prepare coffee with your gizmo.”
He grabbed my arm, dragging me to him. “Don’t go so far. The bed was cold.”
Zeke kissed me, and I smiled against his lips. I would say out of the two of us, he was the one who seemed needy this morning. The difference was that I loved it. I kissed him back. “I was trying to be helpful. You have a big day. I have a big day.”
He tilted his head and pressed a button I hadn’t touched on the coffee maker. It started to make steam. “What are your plans?”
“I’m going to work on the stuff the publisher sent.” Which would actually require me to check my email. “And maybe sketch some more.” I had something in mind, but I didn’t want to tell him about it. Not yet, anyway.
He nodded. “Sounds good. But it sounds as if I have enough time to do what I woke up wanting to do.”
The rain still pelted the house, giving our conversation background noise. “What’s that?”
He picked me up, and I shrieked because it was so unexpected, which made him grin. “I’m going to put my mouth on you, princess. I never got to do that last night or this morning. By the way, thanks for that wakeup. It was a real fucking treat.”
“You were having a bad dream.” The kitchen was less of an embarrassing place to discuss this. If he even wanted to.
He shrugged. “I don’t remember. No idea. But if that was the case, twice thank you. Anyway, back to what I wanted to do.”
I swallowed. “Zeke, I am happy to put my mouth on you.” I hated the word blowjob. Always had. And I hated the phrase eat you out. I hated all of the terms, which made sense, considering what I was about to tell him. “I don’t like oral on me.”
He narrowed his eyes at me and took my cheeks in his hands. “Why?”
“Too much pressure. And I worry that he’s not enjoying it, and then it’s just awkward and uncomfortable. Then there is the inevitable, what if he doesn’t like how I taste?”
He kissed my nose. “You know I like how you taste. Love it, actually. Woke up wanting more of you.”
I swallowed. “Well…that is, um, really nice. But the whole other problems are still there. And…”
“Layla.” He kissed both my cheeks. “Of course, it’s your choice. Let me just assure you of a couple of things for you to mull over. First, I will be enjoying myself. I’m hard thinking about going down on you. Any guy that doesn’t like doing it is only concerned with his own orgasm. Don’t get me wrong, I want one. I want another one with you. But that isn’t my utmost concern. Your pleasure makes mine better. No pressure during the act. Take all day. All night. I don’t care. When I’m going down on you, that’s all I’m doing. Only it won’t take you that long because you are an amazing lover and your body speaks to me.” He kissed me right by my ear. “So think about it. And it’s whatever you want.”
My heart beat like I’d already had coffee. I forced myself to swallow. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to go down on me. I wanted to like it. I just never had. “Maybe after I shower.”
He kissed me on my lip. “You don’t have to do that. But it’s whatever you want.”
The coffee must have been done because he handed me the cup. “Thanks.”
Zeke held my eye contact a few seconds longer than for it to be casual. “You’re welcome. There’s also something else.”
“Something other than you putting your mouth on me.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, you are going to keep me perpetually hard. Yes, other than that. I heard from Michael Li. Texted him yesterday because of this whole mess with your dad. I thought he should know. He’s security, and honestly, he was pretty pissed this was happening without him knowing. He’s sending security to you.”
I’d lived with security most of my adult life. In fact, these few days were the longest I’d been without a guard that I could remember. How old was I when it started? Twelve? “My dad took it away.”
“I put it back. My company, too. Li works for both of us.”
I guessed Zeke lived with security here at the house but not when he went out. “Shouldn’t you have a guard, too?”
“Maybe I should have, but not after the end of this week or before. The lawyers have gotten busy separating us.”
This was an abrupt change in conversation from the one we’d been having, and he seemed rather joyful for a person who had been at serious risk and absolutely not known it. “I’ll text my sisters to quit. They need to do that before the shit hits the fan.”
“Good idea.” He kissed me again. “Good morning, Layla.”
“Good morning, Zeke.”
I leaned over to take a forkful of my eggs. They really were delicious. I smiled at him. It was a little awkward being on the counter while he stood right up against me. But there was also an ease to this that I’d feared wouldn’t be there.
I’d had sex with Zeke Scott. I knew it. I mean, I’d done it; I’d been there and actively participated, but it dawned on me in this strange sort of otherly way that it had actually happened. I’d wanted that since I’d wanted sex, and it had happened.
“I li
ke your smile, whatever you’re thinking, it’s crazy sexy.”
I shrugged. My thoughts would remain my own.
He could try to guess what they were. For now, I liked him not knowing.
The shower was warm, and I let myself close my eyes to breathe in the steam and the heat off the tiles. Zeke’s decorator did a terrible job downstairs, but the upstairs bathrooms were perfection. I’d never been in a shower I liked more. It was the perfect size, had a place to sit down so I could touch up the shaving on my legs, and multiple jets so it was practically like being in a massage chamber of some kind.
What was Zeke’s bathroom like?
I needed to go in there to weigh myself soon. I kept forgetting. And then I’d take a sneak peek at the shower.
The door to the bathroom opened and closed, and I quickly hid the smirk that hit my face. It was sort of nice—well, nothing sort of about it—that he couldn’t stay away from me this morning. Or maybe he was like this with all his women. Four days of intense attention that left them thinking the wrong things when he was done. That thought brought on a frown I couldn’t hide.
He was shirtless when he opened my door. “Want company?”
That was the thing about Zeke, he always offered me the chance to say no. I had no intention of doing so, but I appreciated the option. Of course, since he was literally a salesman who got companies and families to part with a lot of money, that might have been a sales tactic.
In any case, it worked on me. “If you don’t mind smelling like my shampoo.”
He pulled off his pants, which were basically pajama bottoms, and stepped into the shower. He was already hard, his cock very erect.
“You’re staring at my cock, Layla.”
“You’re naked in my shower, Ezekiel.”
He grinned and tugged me toward him, getting wet under the spray with me when he did. “I can’t seem to concentrate today. Can’t get you out of my head.”
“We’ve only been up a little bit. Maybe you’re not trying very hard.” I lifted an eyebrow. Yes, I was being a brat. That was okay. He deserved it. All the space he was taking up in my head being so confusing.
Redhead On The Run (RedHeads Book 1) Page 19
