by Tara Wyatt
“First, my car will always be in the garage, with the keys in the ignition, allowing for ease of access if we need to bolt on short notice. It will also always have a full tank of gas. If something happens and you need to use it, do it.
“Second, there will always be someone on watch duty. We’ll rotate shifts between the five of us—me, De Luca, MacAllister, and the two Special Ops officers arriving later today. Once everyone’s here, we’ll work up a schedule.”
“I can take first watch,” said Ian. “You lot need sleep. I’m relatively fresh, in comparison.”
Morales nodded. “Appreciate that. Third, the house is equipped with a security system, motion-detecting floodlights, and security cameras. These do not feed to a security company but to LAPD Special Ops.
“Lastly, the idea is to stay out of sight. The backyard has high fences and is private-ish, but avoid it if you see others outside. Especially you, Alexa. You’re a public figure and easily recognizable. Anything you need—clothing, medicine, toiletries, whatever—one of the Special Ops guys can do a run.”
Alexa slumped back into the sectional, struggling against the waves of exhaustion pulling at her. “I understand. I guess you have no idea how long we’ll be here, right?”
“I can’t make any promises, but I do have some new information that makes me hopeful it won’t be long. The bugs you planted worked exactly the way we wanted them to, and I know the FBI are getting ready to move in. They don’t have enough on your father yet, but they do have enough—in conjunction with other investigations they’ve been running—to start making some arrests. The other piece of news is that, thanks to you, Crosby is safe.”
Relief flickered through Alexa, along with a sense of pride that she’d helped to save someone’s life. “Who is he?”
“A journalist investigating the Golden Brotherhood. We found him before they did, and he’s in protective custody now.”
Alexa nodded, too tired to do anything else. “Good. I’m glad.”
“Which leads me to an another point. Alexa, when the time comes, you’ll have to testify against your father.”
She sighed and then nodded. “I know. Honestly, I don’t really have anything to lose at this point. If I can help, I will.” It didn’t matter that he was her father; she knew him for exactly who he was now, and her guilt was gone. He was a corrupt, power-hungry, violent man, and even though he’d given her life and raised her, he wasn’t her father in any real sense of the word. He never had been, if she was honest with herself.
“Good. You’re a key witness, and any testimony you give will only help the case when we get there.” Morales pushed to her feet. “Any questions? No? Let’s assign bedrooms and crash, then.”
Without a word Zack picked up their bags, and they followed Morales up the stairs.
Home sweet home.
* * *
“There are five bedrooms. One of the bedrooms has two single beds, so we should have enough that no one’s sleeping on the couch,” said Morales.
Zack adjusted his grip on the bags in his hands. “We’ll only need four rooms,” he said, and Alexa and Morales both turned to look at him. “Alexa and I will be sharing.”
“You’ll be…Oh. Right.” Morales arched an eyebrow, studying them for a second. “I…heard. Well, take the master, then. It has an attached bath.” She pointed at the first room on the left and gave them a once-over again but didn’t say anything. “I’ll be down the hall. Get some sleep.”
Zack couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. He felt worn down and was running on empty. But one look at Alexa and all he wanted to do was take care of her. His own shit—the exhaustion, the pain in his face and ribs, the fear and the anger—didn’t matter.
He opened the door to their room and ushered her inside, closing it behind him. A queen-size bed sat in the center of the room, a nightstand on either side. The only other pieces of furniture in the room were a dresser facing the bed and a freestanding mirror in the corner.
Alexa sank down onto the bed. She was pale, dark circles coloring the skin beneath her eyes. Zack stepped into the adjoining bathroom, which had both a glassed-in shower stall and a jetted tub nestled under the window.
The first bed that he’d ever share with Alexa was in a safe house. Not exactly the most romantic setting, but it didn’t matter. She was safe, and he was here with her. Everything else was details.
He pulled open the shower door and turned on the water, running it until it was warm but not hot. He stepped back into the bedroom and found Alexa exactly where he’d left her, still staring at her lap. With gentle pressure on her elbows, he urged her to stand and started undressing her.
“Zack, I don’t think…Right now…” She shook her head even as she raised her arms above her head and let him pull her dress up and away.
He trailed his hands down her arms and unhooked her bra. It slipped down, and he kissed her forehead, smiling against the sweetness of her skin. “I know. I’m too tired too. Let’s have a shower and go to bed. Okay?”
She smiled, a real smile, and he returned it. This, right here, was exactly where he was supposed to be. With Alexa. Making her smile, taking care of her.
She bent to take her shoes off, and he undid the buttons on his shirt, then tossed it to the floor, toed off his shoes, and shucked his jeans and boxer briefs. He watched Alexa’s cute naked butt as she padded into the bathroom.
“I found towels,” she called, and poked her head back into the bedroom. Her gaze softened as she looked at him, her eyes doing a slow caress up and down his body. She stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and one of those girly sponge things from her bag, and this time he followed her into the bathroom.
She opened the shower stall’s door and stuck her hand in, testing the water before stepping inside. He followed her in, the door snapping shut behind him. He pulled her into his arms and nestled her against him, kissing the top of her head as warm water pattered against them. He didn’t ask if she was okay, because he knew she wasn’t. He didn’t ask how she was feeling, because he knew she was too tired and overwhelmed and wrung out to even know. He didn’t do anything except hold her, wishing he could shoulder it all for her. Wishing he could kiss it better, and knowing he couldn’t.
But he could comfort her. He could take care of her. He could protect her. So he would.
God, he would, until his heart stopped beating, he would.
“I love you,” she said, her voice echoing softly off the tiles. She pressed a kiss right over his heart, and it thumped against her lips in response. “I love you, and I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess.” He kissed her, gently and slowly. “I love you too. We’ll get through this.” He eased her away from him and scooped up the shampoo bottle she’d set down in the corner. “Turn around.”
She turned and raised her face to the spray, letting the water wash over her. When her hair was wet, he squeezed a small amount of the shampoo into his palm. The smell of coconuts filled the air, and he smiled. The first time he’d ever held her, when they’d danced at Sean and Sierra’s engagement party, her hair had smelled like coconuts.
He rubbed his hands together, slicking the shampoo over his palms and fingers, and then started massaging her scalp, working his fingers in slow circles.
She let out a soft, sighing moan. “Oh God, that feels good.”
He smiled and worked the shampoo through her hair, massaging her scalp for several minutes. He turned her around, rinsed the shampoo out, and repeated the massage with conditioner.
“You have the best hands,” she said, her eyes closed, her shoulders relaxed, and a sense of possessive satisfaction took root in his chest.
“They’re yours,” he said, a thickness filling his throat. Everything he had was hers.
She reached behind her and circled her fingers around his wrists, guiding his hands down her body, over her breasts, stopping when his hand was o
ver her heart. “Yours,” she said, echoing him.
His blood hummed in his veins. Happiness and possession and the need to keep her safe all sang through him. He rinsed the conditioner from her hair and then squirted a bit of her body wash onto the purple puff. It lathered up quickly, and he worked the puff over her skin in gentle circles, watching the soap and water slide over her skin, over the curve of her neck, the delicate slope of her shoulders, the straight line of her spine. Her full breasts with those pink nipples. The flare of her hips, the roundness of her ass.
She was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. So beautiful and sweet and strong.
Unable to help himself and grateful he no longer had to fight what he wanted, he pulled her against him and kissed her, trying to pour everything he was feeling into the kiss. “I know it’s fast and things are crazy, but I’m so all in with you, princess.”
She cupped his cheek. “Me too. God, Zack, me too.” With a contented sigh, she rinsed the soap from her body and took the puff from him, then washed him in turn, her touch so sweet, so gentle. She frowned slightly as she worked the soap over the bruise on his right side where he’d taken that kick. “I’m so proud of you, for the way you fought yesterday, but it’s hard to see you hurt.”
He laid his hand over hers, holding it over the large bruise. “I’m okay.”
She nodded and started moving her hand again, trailing more soap across his skin, washing him as thoroughly as he’d washed her. She yawned, and he rinsed off quickly and then shut off the shower. He grabbed the towels she’d laid out and passed one to her, and they dried off in sleepy, contented silence. But she seemed a little less tense, a little less sad, than when they’d first stepped into the safe house.
As soon as she was dry, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, then pulled back the covers with one hand. He laid her down and climbed in beside her, the sheets cool against his skin.
She snuggled into his arms, her eyes already closed. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she whispered, and he stroked a hand up and down her back. She smelled like coconuts and home.
“There’s nowhere else I’d be, princess. I belong with you.”
She murmured the word belong and then fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 21
Tell me what you like.”
Alexa set down the fantasy novel she’d chosen from the bookcase downstairs. She hadn’t wanted to read about real life, craving the distraction of dragons and wizards and magic.
Zack, finished with his watch shift, sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes on her. On her and hungry. Her stomach fluttered, and her heart gave a little jolt.
This day, of nothing and waiting and whiling away the hours, was the new normal. But at least she was safe. And at least she was with Zack. She was immensely grateful for both of those facts.
She played with the hem of her T-shirt. “What I like?”
Zack’s eyes tracked the movement of her fingers, and another hot flutter stole through her. “Yeah. In bed. We haven’t talked about that.”
She swallowed, suddenly very aware of every tick of her pulse in her throat. “Is that something people do? I don’t really have a good frame of reference here.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling crookedly. “Couples talk about sex. Or, at least, they should.”
She chewed her lip, uncertainty creeping in. She met his eyes and gave a half shrug. “I…I don’t really know. I’ve never…” Another half shrug as blood rushed to her face. “It’s never mattered.”
He moved up on the bed, sitting in front of her. “It matters to me.”
“I don’t know what I like. I wish I knew what to tell you.”
Her fingers were still playing with her T-shirt, and he took her hands in his. “Do you ever make yourself come?”
Her face heated even more, but despite her embarrassment she didn’t feel the need to hide from him or to lie. “Yeah, I do.”
He glanced at the mirror in the corner and then returned his attention to her. “Will you show me?”
She was amazed that her face hadn’t burst into flames. “You want me to touch myself?”
He smiled, wolfish and slow. “Yeah, princess. I do.”
A flood of heat coursed over her skin. A throb settled between her legs, and she clenched, surprised at how turned on she was at the idea of touching herself in front of Zack.
With slow, deliberate movements she undid the button of her jeans and slid the zipper down, arching her hips up off the bed to wiggle free. Zack tugged his shirt up over his head and let it fall to the floor, and she did the same. He undid his belt but didn’t undress any further. No, instead he stood and walked to the corner and dragged the mirror toward the bed, placing it right beside her.
“So we can both watch,” he said, and then dipped his head and caught her mouth in a hot, deep kiss. His tongue stroked hers, and she squirmed slightly, in both anticipation and nervousness. She’d never, ever done anything like this before. But she didn’t want to stop.
He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, and his jeans hit the floor. So did her bra. Finally, when she felt as though her heart were about to burst from beating so hard, so fast, he broke the kiss. The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed onto the bed, moving behind her. He held her so that her back was to his chest, and he angled them toward the mirror.
“Take your panties off,” he said as he trailed hot, openmouthed kisses across her shoulders. She did, tossing them to the floor, her entire body on fire. Not with shame, but with how much she wanted this. Needed this. He kissed her neck and then raised his head, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Look how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy. God.” He licked up her neck and nipped at her skin, sparkles of pleasure dancing over her. His hands gripped her hips, and she could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressed against her lower back. “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he whispered as he nipped at her ear. “Show me how you like to be touched.”
She eased her legs apart, and he hooked his ankles over hers, holding her open. But she didn’t feel trapped, or vulnerable, or exposed.
She’d never felt so desirable in her life. Zack made her feel beautiful, made her feel sexy in ways she’d never even imagined. His hands moved from her hips to her inner thighs, his fingertips feathering over the sensitive skin there. Her own fingers trembled slightly as she slid her right hand down, resting her palm over her bare mound. But they didn’t tremble because she felt unsure, or ashamed, or worried she wouldn’t please him. They shook only because of how much she wanted this.
Zack kissed her shoulder and then met her eyes again in the mirror, his gaze slowly sweeping down her body. She dipped her fingers lower, barely touching her clit, which was already swollen and throbbing. With a soft moan, she slipped a finger inside and then rubbed her clit in a slow, firm circle. She watched as it moved beneath her fingers, and she shifted her hips. Zack’s grip tightened on her thighs, and she inhaled sharply when she saw the dark, intense lust shining in his eyes.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, his voice husky.
She alternated her strokes in her favorite pattern, slow circles and diagonal flicking brushes. “Mm-hmm.”
“What do you think about when you touch yourself like this?”
His fingers inched higher on her thighs, almost at the seam now. One finger brushed the outside of her lips.
“You.”
He smiled against her skin and trailed more kisses over her neck as she continued to massage her clit.
“What about me?”
“Everything. God, everything. What it would feel like to kiss you. What your skin would taste like. What it would feel like to have your hands on me. Your mouth. To have you inside me. How good you’d feel and smell and taste and sound.”
He caught her earlobe in his teeth and tugged gently. “Fuck, princess. Me too. The night after Sean and Sierra’s engagement party, I had the sexiest dream about you. Do you want to hear it?
Should I tell you my fantasy while you touch yourself?”
“Yes, please,” she sighed out, rubbing her clit, her hips rocking a little.
In the mirror she could see how wet she was. Could see that Zack’s eyes were glued to her hand between her legs. He shifted against her, his hard cock hot and thick.
“I dreamed that you’d come home with me after that party, and that the second we were alone in my apartment, you were on your knees, and my cock was in your pretty mouth.”
“I want that,” she said, her clit throbbing. “Then what happened?”
“I couldn’t take any more, and I fucked you up against the wall, hard and fast, and you came so hard that you screamed my name.” She shifted her hips restlessly and whimpered. “Then we moved to the bed. And then the shower. And then the floor. Over and over again, until neither of us could move.”
“I want all of that too,” she murmured, her skin slightly damp with sweat.
“When I woke up, it only took me a minute to get myself off, and I came so fucking hard, thinking about how much I wanted you.”
“Oh God, Zack,” she moaned, arching against him. His words seared through her, exhilarating and surreal.
“Look how wet your pussy is,” he said, and she moaned again, louder this time. “Do you like it when I talk dirty to you, princess?”
She managed to nod. “Mm-hmm. I do.”
“What do you like about it?”
A week ago she wouldn’t have known the answer to his question or had the confidence to answer it, but things were different now. She was different now.
“Because you want to do those things to me, and I want all of it. I love you, and I want all of you. The sweet parts and the dirty parts. The strong parts and the soft parts.”
“I don’t have any soft parts right now,” he said, moving his hips against her, and she smiled, feeling light and free and happy despite everything. “Alexa.” He kissed up her neck, his mouth hot and sweet against her skin. “I love you.” He laid his hand over hers and started moving with her, and after a second she drew her hand away. His hand was so much bigger, his skin so much rougher than hers, and the contrast was delicious. The sight of his fingers moving over her clit was almost unbearably hot, and her insides pulled and tightened. Heat licked down her spine and settled between her legs, adding to the throb there.
