Chain Reaction

by Tara Wyatt

  “Like this?” he asked, touching her the way she’d just done, his strong fingers moving against her clit in alternating circles and firm strokes.

  “Yeah,” she sighed out. “Just like that.” Her hips started to shake, and he took his hand away.

  “Not like this. I want to taste you.” Before she could say anything, he’d moved off the bed and onto the floor in front of her. He tugged her hips to the edge of the bed, and she eased onto her back. She watched him in the mirror, the muscles in his back flexing as he settled himself between her legs. Burning pleasure shot through her as he closed his mouth over her throbbing, aching pussy in a hot, openmouthed kiss, swirling his tongue over her swollen clit.

  Her hips jerked, and her back arched off the bed. “Holy fuck! God!” she cried out as she fisted her hands in the sheets. She pressed up onto her elbows, her eyes darting between Zack in front of her and their reflection in the mirror. Splotches of red dotted her skin from her neck to her breasts.

  His teeth scraped gently over her tender flesh, and he moaned. “You taste so damn good, sweetheart. Fuck.” He bit out the last word before closing his mouth over her again, sucking and licking. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. All she could do was feel and watch as he worked his mouth against her, his big hands on her hips, the muscles in his arms and back taut and gorgeous. His stubble rasped against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, adding another layer of sensation.

  He moaned against her, and the added vibration coiled everything inside her into hot, glowing knots. His tongue swirled over her again, and he sucked her clit into his mouth. She broke, all those knots unraveling as she came against his mouth, her hips bucking, his name falling from her lips over and over again, and her entire body felt like a heartbeat, pleasure throbbing outward from her core.

  Zack nipped at her thigh, and she ran her fingers through his hair. He smiled up at her. “I think we found something else you like.”

  She flopped down onto the mattress, her limbs shaking. “Uh-huh.” Closing her eyes, she let herself bask in the golden afterglow filtering through her veins. He kissed his way back up her body, trailing his wonderfully talented mouth over her stomach, her ribs, her breasts—lingering over her nipples—her neck, her ears, and finally her mouth. He kissed her, and she could taste herself on his tongue. Fresh arousal rolled through her, and she cupped his face, his stubble rough against her palms.

  “Thank you. That was amazing,” she said, threading her fingers into his hair.

  He kissed her again. “You’re welcome, but I’m not done with you yet, princess.” He pulled her up to sitting and stood, shucking his boxer briefs. A bead of moisture pearled at the tip of his cock, and she licked her lips, surprised at how badly she wanted to put her mouth on him.

  As though he could read her mind, he smiled, that cocky half smile that melted her insides. “Another time.” He picked his pants up off the floor, then retrieved his wallet and pulled a condom out.

  “I don’t want to use that,” she said, and he stilled, his hands dropping to his sides, the foil square still in one hand.

  “You don’t?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t want anything between us. I just want you. I’ve never done that before, but I want to with you.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, and his voice came out strained, almost rough.

  “I’m on birth control. So unless you have a reason why we can’t…” She trailed off and shrugged.

  “I’m good. I have to get tested all the time. For fighting.”

  “I want you, just you, inside me. Skin to skin. Just us.”

  He took a deep breath and dropped the condom, just letting it fall to the floor. “God, yes.” He closed the distance between them and kissed her, hard and deeply and urgently. And then he was behind her on the bed again, urging her forward. “I want that too, and I want to watch.” He moved them to the edge of the bed, directly in front of the mirror, and she knew what he wanted. What they both wanted. Rising up onto her knees, she straddled him, her back once again to his chest. He lined up his cock with her soaking wet entrance, slicking himself through her folds. With his other hand, he exerted gentle pressure on her hip, urging her down. She sank onto him, moaning as he filled her. She watched, fascinated, awestruck, as his bare cock disappeared into her. Both of his hands settled on her hips as she sank all the way down, loving the tight fullness of him inside her. Loving that there was nothing separating them. Loving him.

  “Oh God, princess.” He ground the words out, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. “You feel so good. So perfect. God.”

  She rocked her hips against him, reveling in the sight of him buried inside her. “I love how you feel, Zack. So big and so damn good.”

  He made a quiet growling sound and, with his hands firmly on her hips, guided her up and then down again. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mirror, from them, from the intensely erotic sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, over and over again.

  He kissed her neck and rolled his hips, and she tipped her head back against him. “Look at you, sweetheart. Look,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  She raised one arm and curled it around his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. He was so gorgeous it almost took her breath away to look at him. His thick brown hair a mess. His eye blackened and a little swollen. “Look at us.”

  “Us. I fucking love that there’s an us.”

  She never, ever wanted to forget this moment. The sight of her and Zack twined together, his gorgeously thick, naked cock moving in and out of her in sure, steady thrusts. The pleasure of his body inside hers. This gorgeous man, who was kind and sweet and strong, who loved her.

  “Me too. God, me too.”

  He moaned and picked up the pace, his grip harder on her hips. “I’m gonna come inside you. Yeah?”

  She wasn’t sure why, but the idea turned her on so much that she started to come around his cock, pleasure shimmering through her blood. She clenched around him as her orgasm rocked her, obliterating everything except the beautiful fullness of his cock inside her, the fullness of her heart, the fullness of them.

  “I love you. Fuck, Alexa, I love you.” He pushed himself deep, and she felt each pulse of his cock as he came inside her.

  She slumped against him, her heart racing, sweat slicking her skin. He kissed a lazy path from her shoulder to her neck, and she closed her eyes. “I love you too.”

  Chapter 22

  Glasses clinked, and dull, mindless chatter filled the air around Jonathan and Elijah. Jonathan pushed his salmon around on his plate, but everything he ate seemed to taste like ash.

  “So you have no idea where she is?” Elijah asked, sawing into his chicken.

  “No, but I told her to run. For her sake, and for Melanie’s. And it’s Alexa. I don’t think she knows much, otherwise she would’ve gone to the police, and we don’t have any proof she’s done that.”

  “I’ll have our guys inside the LAPD keep digging, find out if anything more happened when she filed the break-and-enter report.”

  Jonathan nodded and sipped his water. “I think she knew something, though,” he said, thinking out loud. “Why else would she snoop? Why else would she hire a bodyguard and lie about it?”

  Elijah took a long, deep breath and then shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I knew what to tell you. Sucks that it’s your daughter we’re talking about, or this would be a hell of a lot simpler.”

  Jonathan nodded and set down his knife and fork. His chest hurt, and he’d lost his appetite. He’d barely slept the night before, his mind churning with scenario after scenario, none of them good. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to ease some of the tension there. His temples throbbed.

  He took another sip of his water, and as he set his glass down, he noticed a commotion near the front of the restaurant. Several men in navy blue jackets with bright-yellow letters spelling out “FBI” were headed straigh
t for his table. He pushed to his feet as they approached, but they were focused entirely on Elijah, who’d gone pale. He adjusted his glasses and set his knife and fork down with a clatter.

  “Elijah Todd, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Christopher Crosby, acting as accessory to the murder of Jeff Astor, extortion, accessory to fraud, blackmail, accessory to drug trafficking, political corruption, money laundering, coercion, and nineteen counts of assault.” The lead agent reached behind him for a pair of handcuffs and, with one hand on Elijah’s shoulder, turned him around before slapping them on his wrists. All the other agents surrounded the table with their hands on their holsters.

  Jonathan watched, helpless, as Elijah was read his rights, and a desperate anger pushed up through him, making him want to scream, to smash things. But he didn’t. He stood completely still and made a list in his head of all the people he needed to call. Lawyers, and politicians, and cops.

  Another agent stepped toward him, a stern expression on his craggy face. “Mr. Fairfax, I’d caution you not to leave town at this time.”

  “Am I under investigation?” he asked, his lip curling.

  “If you leave town, you will be.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Advice.” He turned and followed the rest of the team out, Elijah almost invisible in the middle of the group. All eyes in the restaurant were on Jonathan, and he sank back down into his chair. He rubbed his neck again and swallowed. For a brief second, he imagined an invisible noose tightening around his neck, cutting off his air. Cutting off everything he and his father and his grandfather had built.

  Acid burned his chest, and he tossed his napkin down on the table. He threw money down and walked out of the restaurant.

  The Brotherhood was bleeding, and he needed to find a way to stop it.

  * * *

  Zack stared down at the series of text messages from Jamie on his burner phone, not sure what to feel. What to think.

  Everything he’d worked for was just sitting there, waiting for him, and he couldn’t act on it because of the messed-up situation he’d gotten himself into with Alexa and her father. And while it sucked to have to put his life on hold, he didn’t regret the choices he’d made, the ones that had brought him here, because nothing meant anything without Alexa, and right here with her was where he was supposed to be. Waking up beside her every morning. Curling up on the couch with her, watching TV or a movie. Cooking together. Making her come, over and over again, until she couldn’t even keep her eyes open. Talking into the small hours of the night, about anything and everything.

  Zack reclined in the mesh-backed patio chair and tipped his head back, staring up at the darkening sky, stars sparkling against the dusky purple. A particularly bright one shone directly overhead, and he wondered what star it was. Hundreds of thousands of tiny lights, hanging in the sky, millions of miles away. Entire galaxies reduced to dusty, twinkling specks. Zack studied them, centering himself and inhaling a deep breath.

  The sliding glass door opened, and Alexa poked her head out. “Hey. Getting some air?” she asked, stepping out onto the patio. She’d done as Morales had asked and avoided the backyard for the most part. But the neighboring houses were dark and quiet, so it was safe right now.

  “Yeah. Come here.” He extended his hand to her and pulled her into his lap, breathing in the coconut scent of her hair, the sweet warmth of her skin, fighting back the disappointment welling up in him. For several moments he just held her against him, and the longer he held her under those hundreds of thousands of stars, the less the fight contract seemed to matter. She was what mattered, this beautiful, sweet, brave woman in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her breath warm against his neck.

  “I had a text from Jamie. The UFC offered me a three-fight contract. Hopefully it’s still waiting for me when this is all over.”

  She hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. And it’s not the end. It just means putting things on hold.”

  “I know, but you’ve worked so hard for this, and now to have it happen when you can’t do anything about it…I know what this means to you, and I’m sorry. I’m grateful you’re here with me, but I hate that you have to put your own dreams on hold because of everything.”

  “It’s disappointing, but I’m okay. This is where I need to be.”

  She played with his hair, and his scalp tingled. “Natalie thinks this will be over soon. I hope she’s right. Apparently the FBI arrested my father’s right-hand man today.”

  “They’re closing in.”

  “Yeah, sounds like. Hopefully soon they’ll arrest him and shut down the Brotherhood, and then we can come out of hiding. It’ll be safe then. And then you can take that contract and pursue your dream.”

  He took another deep breath. “I need to talk to you about that.”

  She pulled back slightly and met his eyes in the darkness. “About fighting?”

  “Yeah, and about us. About the future.”

  She frowned. “Okay. What about us?”

  He took one of her hands and threaded his fingers through hers, holding their joined hands against his chest. “Fighting’s not an easy career. I’ll probably have to leave LA to train at a higher level. There are good gyms around the country, places like Florida and New Mexico. I’d understand if that isn’t the life you want,” he said, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

  But she smiled and kissed him sweetly, and his heart settled back into place. “You, Zack De Luca, are the life I want. I don’t really know what my future holds—I don’t have a job or a family, really, anymore—but I have you. So you do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here beside you, cheering you on, no matter where you go. Deal?”

  “Fuck yeah, princess.” He kissed her again, relief filtering through him. He’d felt it was only fair to warn her about what she might be getting into. After several seconds he broke the kiss and tucked her against his chest. Together they gazed up at the stars as the sky darkened from deep purple to soft black. “What do you want to do when this is over?” he asked quietly.

  She shrugged, her slender shoulders moving against him. “No idea. I’m just taking everything a day at a time. I know I don’t want to act anymore.” She sat up a little. “Hey, maybe I’ll go to college. I’ve always wanted to.”

  He smiled, stroking her hair. “What would you study?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I’d maybe like to do something in the nonprofit sector. Public health? Economics? Something to do with international development? I like the idea of helping people.” She paused and tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. “Maybe if I do some good, I can atone for some of the bad my father’s done. Maybe I can try to make it right.”

  He kissed her forehead. “You don’t need to make up for your father’s crimes, Alexa.”

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to. I can’t change what he’s done, but I can try to make the world a better place. That matters to me.”

  He traced his thumb over her knuckles. “So I’ll fight, and you’ll save the world. I like this plan. What else do you want?”

  “It’s probably way, way too soon to say this, but our situation isn’t exactly normal, and…although we’ve only been together a short time, I feel so close to you. Like I’ve known you forever.”

  “I get that. Lay it on me. What else do you want?”

  “I really, really want kids. At least two, maybe more. I hated being an only child.”

  The sudden image of Alexa pregnant with his baby flashed through his mind, and he kissed her again. Hell yes. “Honestly, I’ve never thought much about kids or a family, I guess because I’ve been so focused on fighting. But yeah. Kids with you sounds pretty damn amazing.”

  “Zack,” she whispered, and kissed him, slowly and tenderly, her tongue caressing his. His arms tightened around her, and his cock stiffened, heat throbbing through him. Heat, and the need to keep her safe, to mak
e sure she had the future she wanted. The future she deserved.

  She ran her hands over his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. He wove his hands into her hair, tilting her head back slightly and deepening the kiss. She rocked gently against him and moaned softly, and he broke the kiss, nipping at her lips with his teeth. “Let’s go upstairs. I need to be inside you.”

  She made the soft, whimpering noise that always drove him crazy, and she kissed him again, a playful sweep of her tongue across his. She wiggled off of his lap and grabbed his hand, tugging him eagerly into the house. The first time they’d had sex, the night before his fight, there’d been a shyness there. An uncertainty. That shyness was slowly disappearing, and he loved that she felt comfortable enough with him to open up and be vulnerable.

  Mac sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea, watching the laptop that served as the main monitor for the house’s security system. He smiled at them, but it was small and sad, and he returned his attention to the computer screen without a word.

  They reached their bedroom, and the door had barely latched behind them before Alexa’s hands were under his shirt, pushing it up. He reached behind him and tugged it up over his head, then tossed it to the floor. She slid her hands up his stomach and over his chest.

  “You are so gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re mine,” she said, and kissed a path across his chest, her lips soft and warm over his heart.

  Mine. He closed his eyes, savoring the word. So much contained in four little letters, because he was hers. Fully and completely. Had been for a long time.