“Easy access, remember?” She slid her hand into an exterior zipper on his bag and produced the strip of condoms.
“Fuck me,” Zain muttered.
That was the point.
Andrea ripped one off and shoved the rest in the bag, which promptly tumbled off into the floor, leaving the window seat empty. She placed a hand against his chest and nudged him back until he sat on the cushions.
He’d let her do this once. Now, would he again?
She ripped the package open carefully and pulled out the latex disc.
Zain sat with his legs spread, jeans partway down his hips. She hooked her left hand into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. He helped her, their gazes never leaving each other, even as his cock was freed. The silence was...deafening. So many things unspoken. The need they both felt screaming at her.
She rolled the condom on while he watched, the blinds clanking as he shifted the cushions.
“Are you going to ride me?” he asked.
“Is that a problem?”
“Hell no.” He palmed his erection.
She’d rarely wanted to be on top. She’d always felt too awkward. But now, she wanted to touch him. To see his face.
“Come here.” He reached for her, clasping their hands, and pulled her to him.
She placed one knee then the other on the bench until she straddled his lap. Her stomach fluttered, unaccustomed to being watched like this. He could see all of her—had seen all of her—and yet he still watched her with a kind of predatory hunger.
He turned her hand over and cupped her mound, pressing her fingers against her folds.
“You’re so hot. And wet.” Zain sat up and kissed her, his fingers slipping past hers into her pussy.
She gasped and shifted her hips. His fingers were talented, but it wasn’t what she wanted. She wrapped her hand around his cock and rose, breaking the kiss. He shifted, helping her guide his erection to her entrance.
There.
She held her breath and lowered herself onto him. Her eyes drifted closed as her body shifted, stretching to accommodate his girth. She bit her lower lip.
He hooked his left arm around her waist and slid down a bit, changing the angle.
“Oohh.” Her breath stuttered out of her lungs as he hit a new, yet undiscovered pleasure spot.
“Yeah.”
Zain tightened his grip around her waist, urging her to move. She gripped his shoulders and rose, her thighs shaking.
Maybe this was a bad idea, but it felt so good.
He was the perfect height to lick her breast. She groaned again as he filled her. His hand coasted over her body, plucking her breast, rubbing her clit, while his mouth made love to her.
She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. There was nothing awkward or out of place about this moment. It was right. And she wanted it to go on and on forever.
Zain thrust up into her, sending a zing of pleasure through her body.
“Look at me.” His voice was rough, worn, needy.
She stared down at him, lost in his gaze.
He was in her. Everywhere. Her heart. Her body. She didn’t know how it’d happened so fast, but it had and she couldn’t see it changing. Ever.
She dropped her head until she could kiss him and rolled her hips, squeezing him with her internal muscles. Fingers massaged her clit, stroking the need for him higher.
“Come on, Andrea. Come on,” he chanted.
She gripped his shoulder, tossed her head back like some sexy siren, and rode him as hard as she could. The sound of their bodies joining driving her on. His grunts, the lick of his tongue, the touch of his fingers created an ache of need low in her belly she had to satisfy.
Zain sucked her breast, the sensation redoubled by his fingers stroking her need. She dug her nails into his shoulder, and bit her lip a moment before pleasure overtook her mind, spiraling out of control. He continued to thrust up into her, groaning and stroking her on and on until his movements became jerky, uneven and then he stilled.
She collapsed on top of him, spent, exhausted and unready to face reality.
Andrea loved him, and nothing was going to change that.
Zain wrapped his arms around her, hugging her closer. She stroked his hair and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting away the tears. They remained like that for several long moments, neither speaking, not ready to let go. At least not until a black and white cat jumped up onto the bench next to Zain.
Meow?
“I knew I hadn’t gotten them all,” she grumbled.
“Go away, buddy, she’s mine,” Zain muttered against her shoulder.
Her eyes prickled and tears fogged her vision. She needed a moment to get herself under control.
Andrea squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath. She could do this.
She sat up and smiled down at Zain, her heart quaking. The cat head butted his shoulder, intent on being involved. She ducked her head and kissed Zain.
“I’ll take care of this guy,” she said.
It was the most graceful way she could think of to flee. She scooped up the cat and climbed off the bench, hiding her face in the cat’s fur while she crossed to the adjoining bathroom and shoved the cat out into the hall.
She shut the door, blocking out the sound of Zain moving around and took a few moments for herself to pee and get her head screwed on straight.
How could she love him? She’d just met him. And yet—that was what she felt. She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, either.
Zain tapped on the door.
“I thought you might want this,” he said.
She cracked the door and peered out at him—still gloriously naked—and holding the red Star Wars shirt. She couldn’t help but grin and accept his offering.
“Your turn.” She scuttled out of his way, pulling on the shirt for a thin barrier between her heart and the object of her affections.
Yeah, she still didn’t have any defenses against him.
She pulled the blackout curtains and peeked under the bed and behind the dresser for any more stray cats before diving between the sheets. Sex had only woken up her mind and all her feelings, while her body was aching and exhausted.
Zain emerged, still without a stitch of clothing on. She could get used to this at least.
“You look ready to pass out,” he said.
“I doubt I can sleep.”
He laid down next to her, his gaze thoughtful.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Pick a thing.” She shrugged, hiding behind the events of the last week rather than admit the truth.
“I get it.” He slid his hand down her arm over the bandages. “I hate that I failed you.”
“No, you didn’t—”
“I did. I should have seen that coming. It’s okay to be scared. I was scared of losing you. I just...when we pulled up and you weren’t there, I had this sickening thought that I’d never see you again and I couldn’t wrap my head around a future without you in it. It was just...then you screamed...” He shook his head.
I couldn’t wrap my head around a future without you in it.
Andrea swallowed.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Zain couldn’t look away from Andrea’s slowly widening gaze.
Why was he still talking?
Could he just shut up already?
Of the list of things he should not be saying, he’d covered at least half of them in a few sentences. He needed to put a sock in it now, but the damage might already have been done. Especially if her wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling gaze was anything to go by.
He clenched his teeth together.
Andrea wrapped her hand around his prosthetic, holding it tight, if her white knuckles were anything to go by.
Zain opened his mouth to say something—smooth it all over—but the words were stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to take back what he’d said. He’d meant it.
“I have a bad habit.�
� Andrea was still staring at the ceiling.
Of what? Letting guys fall in love with her and then crushing their souls? Or was it just him?
“Okay.” He swallowed and steeled himself for the let-down.
“I ruin relationships. I like someone and I get scared of where it’s going. That I’m a fuck-up. That, well, you can just about insert any reason you want into the equation because it always ends the same.” She swallowed and ran her thumb over the silver hook in her hand. “I run away. I ruin things because they can’t possibly turn out good. Crystal says I need therapy, and she’s probably right. I just...”
She turned her head toward him and now it was his turn to struggle to breathe. There was a depth of emotion in her gaze he couldn’t begin to fathom.
“I really like you,” she said. “And then I realize it and I start to freak out. A lot. I’m scared I’m going to do something stupid because I don’t know how to not ruin good things.”
“What do you want, Andrea?”
“I want to hide under the bed.” She laughed and swiped her fingers under her eyes.
“Careful, you might find another cat.” It was his turn to be scared. If he said or did the wrong thing...would it change her mind?
“What do you want?” She turned, lying on her side, one arm curled under her head. Her hair was a curling mess spread out on the pillows. She was so damn beautiful.
Her.
He wanted her.
But maybe not in the same way she wanted him.
“I want to make it work,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully.
“Me, too,” she said without hesitation.
As happy as he was to hear that, he also had to face the truth.
“Andrea...I would be a fucktard if I didn’t—”
“Did you just say fucktard?”
“Yeah?”
“Just checking.” She grinned.
He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach. “I have to also point out that sometimes, in situations like these, when your life is in danger, it’s not uncommon to have feelings for someone that aren’t real.”
She tilted her head to the side, considering his words.
“I can see that...but I don’t think that’s right. For me at least...we have these...quiet? I don’t think that’s the word. There are moments like now, like randomly, I just feel...close to you. And maybe that’s what scares me. My mom left my dad and me when I was, like, eleven, I think. A counselor said it gave me attachment issues. Maybe I should take Crystal up on talking to a therapist.”
“I think you’re perfect the way you are.” He leaned in and kissed her, needing to touch her before he woke up and this was all a dream.
“How would this work?” she asked against his lips. The tension in her voice was clear.
“Well, there are weeks at a time when I could work remotely. What about you?”
“If it’s not a big project week, then yeah. Sometimes though, I just need the quiet of my office to work.”
“I get that. But we could feasibly go back and forth. At least once a month maybe, every six weeks if it’s crunch time.”
“And then what? What happens when it’s not enough?”
Her question echoed his thoughts exactly. He didn’t have an answer for her.
“Let’s not create problems, okay? You might hate me in a week.”
She bit her lower lip and her eyelids drooped.
“Get some rest. We can figure everything else out. I swear.” He kissed her lips briefly and rolled away.
The sheets rustled behind him. He strode across the room and released the straps holding his prosthetic on. The bag with his other arms sat on the floor. He placed his on top of the bag and rolled the sock off his arm, rubbing at the skin.
“Can I ask an invasive question?” Andrea’s voice was music. Happiness. Love.
Yeah, he needed to convince her to go to sleep soon.
“Shoot.” He flipped the lights off and returned to the bed, sliding in next to her.
“Why didn’t you take your arm off earlier?”
“Earlier as in when?”
“While we were taking our clothes off.” He didn’t need the light on to know she was blushing. He could hear it in her voice.
“Hm. I didn’t think about it?”
“Is that a rude thing to ask? I don’t want to screw up and ask the wrong thing.”
“It’s not rude to me. I guess...I’m not going to pause to take my arm off or put it on for sex. I mean, the hook was pretty good at taking your pants off.” He reached for her, pulling her across the bed to him. The shirt was a thin enough barrier it might as well not be there. “Does that answer your question?”
“If it’s on, it’s on. If it’s off, it’s off. Got it. I just...I forget it’s even a thing until you go to take it off. And then I’m like...oh, yeah. Huh. He’s still awesome.” She drew circles on his arm.
“I think you’re awesome, too.”
“Thanks.” She chuckled and scooted closer until their legs were intertwined and he couldn’t get closer without being in her.
It was a pretty damn great way to fall asleep.
20.
Andrea snipped tags off the new jeans and stepped into them. There were serious perks that came with having a loaded friend. At some point, while they slept through most of the day, one of Crystal’s family employees had been dispatched to get her something to wear. Probably because Crystal’s parents were appalled by anyone in sweatpants. Judging by the near perfect fit, Andrea could only assume that someone in the Great House had her sizes on file. Not surprising, since she’d done a fair amount of laundry here, and it seemed like any time she voiced a preference someone remembered it.
“Andrea,” Crystal bellowed from somewhere below, “food’s here!”
Andrea slid her feet into fuzzy slippers and checked her phone. Zain had woken up first, showered and was gone before she’d managed to get both eyes open.
No messages.
What was he up to?
Where’d he gone?
And why did it hurt so much to not have him near her?
She packed up her emotional mess and headed downstairs, collecting a trail of kitties behind her.
Crystal poured coffee into mugs and Zain sat at the bar with his laptop and a plate of steaming food. He glanced up mid-bite and winked at Andrea. Warm-fuzzies attacked her knees and she stumbled down the last two stairs.
“You look cute.” Crystal paused to give her a once-over.
“Thanks.” Andrea tugged at the hem of her shirt.
“How do your arms feel?” Zain twisted on his stool.
She crossed the kitchen, arms extended. The bandages had partially come off while she slept, and she’d taken them off for a quick shower. Zain gently took her wrists in his hands and turned her arms this way and that. He had the 3D arm on again. It didn’t appear any worse for wear after the rain and duking it out with Kevin.
The cuts weren’t deep. They’d all scabbed over and the doctors at the ER had told her they likely wouldn’t even leave scars. They’d been far more concerned about the bruising around her neck and the goose egg on the side of her skull.
“Any pain?” Zain asked. The way he stared at her, intent on the answer, made her think he wasn’t just asking about her arms.
“Not anymore.”
“Good. Eat. Bowman should be here soon.”
“Max?” Andrea took the stool next to Zain. “Why?”
“Something to do with Kevin?” Crystal stood across from them, opting to stand and eat.
“Not sure.” Zain shrugged. “He just asked if we were all here and if he could come by.”
“And you just invited someone over to my house. Gee, thanks.” Crystal quirked a brow at Zain.
“You have a problem with that?” Zain asked.
“Nope.” Crystal grinned.
He squeezed Andrea’s knee and kept picking away at his food.
“Anything else going on?” Andrea’s head was pretty fuzzy after only about six hours sleep. She was still tired, no doubt about that, but her need to pee and eat had forced her out of bed.
“I tried calling Miranda but she didn’t answer.” Crystal lifted her shoulders.
“Um. She has something this morning...I forget what. Isn’t her flight tomorrow?”
“Yeah, she and Cliff were supposed to be on the same one.”
“That’s got to be Max.” Zain lifted his phone, a white text bubble taking up half of it. The grimace on his face didn’t look good.
“What’d he say?” Andrea asked.
“It’s not Max. It’s work.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah—”
A knock at the door interrupted whatever information Zain was going to volunteer about his day job. He held up a hand when Crystal stepped around the counter, and pushed off his stool. One hand went to his hip, and it was only then that Andrea realized he was carrying a gun.
It was a very real reminder that they—she and Crystal—weren’t safe yet. Just because Kevin and Patricia were behind bars didn’t mean things were over.
Andrea swallowed and watched Zain peer through the narrow windows on either side of the door.
“It’s Max,” he said, and opened the door.
Max Bowman was about Zain’s size, a little wider in the shoulders, with lighter hair and eyes. Andrea had always thought of characters like Commissioner Gordon when she had to talk to Max. He was nice, but he wore tension like a jacket and the permanent frown lines bothered her. Still, he’d taken both her and Crystal seriously when they went to the cops about the on-line threats and doxxing.
“Afternoon, or should I say morning?” Max shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a peg near the door.
“Hey, you hungry?” Crystal gestured at the bar. “Have a seat. Coffee?”
“I’ll take a coffee, thanks. I’m about to go pick up food for the guys, so I’m good.” Max took the seat on Andrea’s left. “How you doing, Andrea?”
“I’m good. Thanks for everything.” How exactly did she thank the officer who’d helped the man she loved save her?
“I’m guessing this isn’t a check-up?” Zain slid back onto his stool and placed his hand on her knee, grounding her. She covered his hand and squeezed, grateful for the tether.
Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) Page 22
