Strong Hold

by Sarah Castille

  “You don’t need to say please.” He chuckles, repeating my words. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve just got to grab a condom.”

  “No. It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” I want to feel him, bare inside me. Need him to fill me, push away the darkness and the memories, drown me in a sea of pleasure.

  “Are you safe?”

  “I’m safe. I would never put you at risk.”

  One hand finds my hip, holds me in place as the smooth head of his cock teases my entrance, gliding through my wetness.

  “You’re ready for me.”

  “Very ready.”

  “Feel me.”

  He pushes into me, and I feel like I could drown in this moment. I breathe deep, loving the sensation of being filled, stretched, utterly complete. He surrounds me, protects me, makes me feel more than I’ve felt since we parted ways.

  Emotion wells up in my chest, Unexpected. Unwanted. People aren’t supposed to cry when they are having sex. But the pleasure is cracking me open, and the sadness is leaking out, dripping down my cheeks in a waterfall of tears.

  He pulls back and thrusts in again, slow and steady, like he has all the time in the world, like he is totally in control. I wiggle against him, push back to meet his thrusts. I want him lost like me, overwhelmed by passion, unable to think of anything but the burning need to climax.

  “Slow down. I want to enjoy you.” He smacks his hand over my ass, shocking me still, but the pain turns into a sensual burn that rips a guttural groan from my throat. “Christ. You tempt a man beyond reason.”

  One hand thuds onto the table beside me, and the other slides around my hip. And God, oh God, he knows just how to touch me. His slick fingers slide my moisture up and around my clit until I am out of my mind, shaking, aching for release.

  “Hold on.”

  I clutch the edge of the table, and he thrusts faster, harder, stroking deep. His fingers circle closer, feathering every so lightly over my clit. I rest my forehead on his shirt, breathe in his scent as the table squeaks across the floor.

  My orgasm cracks through me like a bolt of lightning, making me cry out. My pussy clenches around him in wave after wave of molten heat as he thrusts inside me, drawing out my pleasure. His body goes rigid against me, and his hands grip my hips so hard, I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. I tense in anticipation. Suddenly, he pulls out and groans. Hot liquid splashes over my back. Only when he smooths his essence over my skin do I realize what he has done. Something so primitive and primal, it awakens an almost animalistic want inside me.

  Marked.

  He marked me.

  I push up, look over my shoulder, and almost don’t recognize his face, his eyes so fierce and full of male pride.

  “You okay?” he asks, leaning down, blanketing me with his warmth.

  “I’m not complaining. I thought it was kinda hot.”

  “You’re hot. Sexy. And so damn sweet.” He presses soft kisses to my nape, feathers his lips down my spine, making me feel loved all over. I’ve had sex, but nothing can compare to being with Zack. He knows me, sees me, touches me inside and out…

  I give myself a mental shake. I can’t go down this road. Thinking of this as anything other than a physical—albeit highly pleasurable—act is to open myself up to a world of pain and heartache.

  As if he can sense my emotional withdrawal, Zack pushes himself to stand. “Don’t move. I’ll find something to clean you up with. There’s a sink in the far corner.”

  “Sure.” I watch him cross the floor over my shoulder, tension etched in every line of his shoulders. “Is everything okay with you?”

  Water splashes in the sink. Drawers and cupboards bang as he searches for a cloth. He heard me. This place isn’t that big, and I wasn’t talking softly.

  “Zack?”

  Silence.

  A few moments later, he returns with a warm cloth that he runs gently over my back, washing away his mark, making me clean. After he returns to the sink, I hunt for my clothes, strewn across the floor.

  “What did you mean by again?” he asks as he tugs on his jeans. His words almost sound casual, but his tone is anything but.

  Damn. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go.

  “I thought we were done with that conversation,” I say, turning away.

  “We can’t be done with a conversation we haven’t even started.”

  “It’s nothing.” I pull on my clothes while he leans against the table, watching me in silence. But even his silent disapproval is not enough for me to reveal how deeply I am broken, how I can’t trust myself not to make a mistake again. All the men I have cared about have hurt me. Things I thought would make me happy brought me pain.

  “Not good enough. You were mine, Shay. Mine. I knew everything about you. And now I’m missing seven years of your life, and you’re making me think something bad happened during that time.”

  “You didn’t want those years,” I remind him. “So you have no right to ask me about them. And it doesn’t matter what happened then. What matters is what’s happening now.”

  He stares at me so intently, I feel like he can see my soul. “What is happening now?”

  Now, I am afraid my walls will crack. Now, he’s already carrying the burden of Okami’s death, and I don’t want him saddled with the guilt of my mistakes. Now, I know he will go hunting for Damian if I tell him what happened, and if he finds him, I don’t know what he will do.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t want to get involved, but this…”

  “What is this?”

  “Sex?” I shrug. “Two people having a good time?”

  His face smooths. “Is that all this is to you?”

  “Yes.” I gesture to the door, dipping my head so he doesn’t see the lie on my face. “We’d better get going. The fights will be over, and the team will be looking for us to join them for a drink.”

  “I won’t be able to make it. I’m flying to Seattle first thing tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” I scramble to hide my disappointment, but what did I expect after pushing him away? “What about coaching?”

  “You still have Torment and Fuzzy.”

  I’m not sure if he means he’s done with coaching me and I should train with them again or if they are just going to fill in for him over the weekend, but I don’t ask because I don’t want to be rejected all over again.

  Our feet thud softly on the wooden floor as we cross the boathouse. Zack pulls open the door for me, and I breathe in the scent of the ocean as I step into the cool night air.

  We walk back to the machine shop in silence. I should be relieved that I don’t have to answer any more questions or tell any more lies, but as the emotional distance fills the space between us, all I feel is an overwhelming fear that I’ll lose him all over again.

  18

  Zack

  Zack turned his rental SUV onto a tree-lined street in the heart of Bellevue. He’d bought the house for Viv and Lily after his first year on the professional circuit, letting them choose what would be their first true family home. Lily had fallen in love with the Seattle suburb’s trails, woods, and open spaces, perfect for her two rescue dogs. Viv had been drawn by the house’s unique architectural design, a cross between a Swiss chalet and a Gothic manor, all tall peaks and angles, with fancy moldings and painted fairy-tale blue.

  He tried to visit once or twice every month, coordinating his flights so he could spend weekends with his sisters. When Viv had been ill, the visits were a necessity, but now he came to help out around the house and for the pleasure of their company.

  A screech startled him when he walked in the door. Moments later, he was wrapped tight in soft arms, his chest engulfed in a mass of brown curls.

  “Lily.” He gave his sister a hug. “It’s good to be home. How are you doing?”

&nb
sp; “Good.” She gave him a last squeeze, moving aside quickly as her two golden Labs jumped up to greet him.

  Zack kneeled down and ruffled Chloe’s fur. Ringo nosed her aside for some attention, and he gave the pup a rub. One day, if he ever settled down, he’d get his own dogs and a big place for them to run, although the way things were going, it wasn’t going to be any time soon.

  Turning his attention back to Lily, he chatted with her about her accounting firm and new fiancé. Upbeat and energetic, Lily always managed to accomplish more in a day than many people could do in a week. Even when Viv had been ill, she had managed to keep up with her marathon training, run her business, look after the house and dogs, and volunteer at the hospital where Viv was being treated. Of the three siblings, she was the one who had managed to overcome the trauma of the past and succeed both personally and professionally.

  “Where’s Viv?”

  “She’s in her studio, finishing up a few designs. I’ll go make some lunch while you have a chat.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “How long are you staying?”

  “I’m just here for the weekend. I took some time off…”

  “A vacation?” Lily’s eyes widened. “Since when do you ever take vacations?”

  Zack shrugged, reluctant to share his reasons with Lily. Although he loved his sister, she had a habit of asking too many questions—uncomfortable questions to which he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t have any answers. “I had some stuff I wanted to do in the Bay Area.”

  Her lips pressed together, and she lifted an eyebrow, but he made a quick escape before the interrogation could begin and headed to Viv’s studio.

  “Hey, Viv.” He walked into what had once been a spacious dining room but was now Viv’s jewelry-making studio, the bright-yellow walls lined with shelves filled with boxes of beads and wires, gemstones, and soldering equipment.

  Viv looked up and smiled. Her blond hair had grown out since he’d seen her last and now reached her shoulders. She loved bright colors, and today she wore a brilliant turquoise shirt that made her hair seem even lighter than it was.

  “Hey yourself, Big Brother.”

  He crossed the floor to give her a hug, and she stood to greet him. She had never regained the weight she lost during her first battle with leukemia, and he worried that she wouldn’t have the strength for another round of chemo if her illness returned.

  “You were just here a few weeks ago. How come we get another visit?”

  “I don’t spend as much time with you as it is.” He took a seat on the stool beside her, careful not to disturb the beads she had placed over the surface of her worktable. “And I took some time off to stick around in San Francisco, so it was a quick flight to come home.”

  “Well, it’s always nice to see you. Hopefully, you’ll get to meet Lily’s fiancé this time. He’s quite the catch.”

  As always, Viv never poked or pried into his business. Not that he ever resented Lily’s questions, but even as a boy, he’d valued his privacy. Viv had always respected his need to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “What’s he like?”

  “I’m not telling you anything, except to say he’s a nice guy and he treats Lily well.” Viv grinned. “The days of you trying to scare away our boyfriends, following us to parties, or showing up at Pine Ridge lookout to ruin our make-out sessions are long gone. Save that overprotectiveness for the woman of your dreams.”

  He winced as her lighthearted comment hit too close to home.

  A frown creased her brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “I found Shayla.” It was a relief to say the three words that had so drastically altered his life in such a short time.

  Viv’s face softened. “In San Francisco?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How is she?”

  “Married.” Fuck. Of all the things to say. Not fine. Or she’s doing MMA. Or she quit being a ballerina. Or she’s more beautiful than when I left. Just married. But that’s what had been on his mind since he’d seen her again. Shayla had belonged to another man when she was supposed to be Zack’s forever. “She was married,” he corrected. “She isn’t now. It didn’t work out.”

  “Oh, Zack.” She covered her hand with his and shared his silence. Viv didn’t judge, didn’t offer her opinion unless he asked. She understood that sometimes he just needed to talk, and she was always there to listen.

  His heart squeezed in his chest at the thought that one day Viv might not be there with her big heart and her gentle smile. And then he pushed the thought away. She’d just had a few tests. Nothing more.

  “I’m coaching her.”

  “I thought she was a ballet dancer.” She settled back on her stool and picked up a strand of wire.

  “She was in an accident and broke her leg, so she couldn’t dance anymore. She took up MMA. Now she’s burning up the amateur circuit. I saw her when I went to her gym to recruit another fighter. I thought I might be able to help her make it to the pros.”

  “So you managed to fix things between you?” Viv was the only person he’d told about what happened the night he left Shayla. It was the first time she had outwardly disapproved of his actions. If Shayla hadn’t moved to New York two days later, he wouldn’t have been able to stop her from trying to untangle the mess he had made.

  “Not completely.”

  “Ah. Trouble in paradise.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face, returning to the one thing he couldn’t get out of his mind. “She was married, Viv.”

  She plucked a blue glass bead from the tray in front of her. “You knew that. If I remember correctly, you went to New York against Lily’s and my advice and saw her with her husband.”

  “But now she’s not married, and I see her every day.”

  With the wire in one hand, she threaded the bead with the other. “Why does it bother you so much? Did you think she wouldn’t meet anyone else? I’m not surprised someone else saw the same qualities in her that you did. You made a choice. You don’t get to be disappointed she took the opportunity you gave her. I know you never stopped loving her, because you haven’t moved on. But she didn’t break your heart the way you did to her.”

  “You don’t pull any punches,” he said, his voice thick.

  “You wouldn’t want me to.” She tugged the bead down and selected another. “And it’s not like you didn’t have a few honeys of your own.” When his head jerked up, she laughed. “You think Lily and I don’t know about all your women? We follow you online. We know all the gossip about who was seen out with our very secretive big brother.”

  Zack bristled. “I didn’t love any of them. She would have loved this guy she married.” It was double betrayal, both of their friendship and the heart.

  “There isn’t a finite amount of love.” Viv strung a final bead on the wire and then closed the clasp holding the ends together. “It’s like this circle. Endless.”

  “I think he hurt her, Viv.”

  Her smile faded. “Well then, I hope for his sake he’s far, far away. You made a name for yourself beating up our boyfriends back in Glenwood before you even started MMA. I can’t imagine what you would do now.”

  Zack toyed with one of the beads on the table. Was that why Shayla hadn’t been forthcoming about how her marriage had ended, why she’d tried to shut the conversation down? Was she protecting her ex?

  “If he did, it’s my fault. I put her in that position. She was mine, and I wasn’t there to protect her.”

  “And maybe she’ll be yours again if you don’t screw up. She’s had a taste of what’s out there, and it isn’t you. But you aren’t responsible for her choices. If you do get back together, at least you’ll know she’s with you because she wants to be with you and not because she doesn’t know her options.” She tipped her head to the side, studied him, considering. “Is that why you’re coaching her? To get her
back?”

  “She needed help.”

  “Does that mean you’re going back in the cage, too?”

  Zack shook his head. When he’d entered the ring to save Shayla in the underground and the world hadn’t ended, he’d briefly considered the idea of fighting again. But this wasn’t a simple matter of falling off a horse and getting back up again. He had his father’s genes, although his anger was roused not by drink but when someone he cared about was in danger. At least that’s what he’d thought until the Okami fight. The dude had been relentless, toying with him until he snapped.

  “A man died. I can’t forget that.”

  “Two men died in that cage,” she said firmly. “And now I see a flicker of life in the one who has shouldered a blame that wasn’t his to bear. You aren’t responsible for other people’s choices—whether it was Okami stepping into the cage knowing the risk or Shayla getting involved in a bad relationship. You can’t save everyone, Zack. And you can’t stop life from moving on.”

  He picked up the bead box, stared at it, set it back down. “She didn’t have to get married so fast. It was like everything we had meant nothing.”

  “I’m sure she thought it did mean nothing after you dumped her and walked away.” She handed him the bracelet she had just finished. “This is for Shayla. So she met someone else. So she jumped quickly into what sounds to me like a rebound relationship. It’s totally understandable. She loved her dad and lost him, and then she lost you. It was probably the one thing she feared the most. What’s she going to do when she’s young and alone in a strange city and some guy comes along and offers her what she needs?”

  “What did she need?”

  “Safety. Security. Love. All the things a partner is supposed to give you. Or a dad.” She pressed her lips together and stared down at her beads. They never talked about their father, and Zack had always assumed she had hated their old man as much as he had. But now, thinking back, he realized their father had never hit Viv. He’d never shouted at her or put her down. In fact, he’d spent more time with her when he was sober than with Zack or Lily, and he had frequently talked about how much Viv looked like her mom.