Celestial Desire (6 page)

The moment Zane was released from active duty, he had taken up where his father left off. Those letters had given him a good starting point, and Zane collected enough evidence to warrant official action. Because of his efforts, and because of his service record, he had been allowed to take part in the take-down.

Months later he had learned that his mother and sister were dead. Both fair of hair and skin, they had been sold to a dealer in Europe known for his sadistic tendencies.

It had broken something inside of Zane. Though the rational part of his brain knew that there was nothing he could have done, the irrational part continued to harbor guilt. If he had been there, he might have been able to prevent the abduction. If he had been smarter, faster, stronger, he might have been able to track them down before it was too late. If, if, if…

The nightmares still plagued him, the demons of the past still shredded him from the inside. He still woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding, an inhuman roar lodged in his throat.

Except when he was with Celeste. When he was with Celeste, his demons were quiet.

They sat in silence for several minutes, each mulling over what the other did (and didn’t) say.

“Do you have a bucket list?” Celeste asked suddenly.

“A bucket list?”

“Yeah, you know. A list of things you want to do before you die.”

“I know what a bucket list is,” he said. As often happened when he was with her, she pulled him out of his dark place and back into the present. “I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

“Me neither, but you never know, do you? I mean, it could all change very quickly, don’t you think?”

Had she somehow sensed his morbid thoughts? Unless Mitch had told her what had happened – and he was certain Mitch hadn’t – there was no way she could have known. Which meant her comment was based on her personal experiences, not his. It was starting to make sense. Celeste feared her abusive ex would get out and track her down.

Zane’s first instinct was to ease her fears, to tell her that he would protect her, but he checked that impulse before the words made it out of his mouth. He was reluctant to make promises he might not be able to keep. It wasn’t because he doubted his ability to keep her safe; he knew beyond a doubt he could.

No, the problem was whether or not he’d still be around. According to his uncle, Celeste’s ex was locked up good and tight and had a decent amount of time remaining on his sentence, a far longer amount of time than Zane had ever been in a relationship.

If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of it. He only knew that Celeste had managed to hold his interest for longer than anyone else. And maybe,
maybe
, there was a chance for it to become something more. At the moment, he couldn’t imagine losing interest in Celeste any time soon, but he wasn’t sure enough of his relationship potential to risk getting her hopes up. This was all uncharted territory for him; he was taking it day by day. He just knew he didn’t want to hurt her, and
maybe
wasn’t enough to hang her hopes on.

“Yeah. I’ve seen it happen enough not to. Do you? Have a bucket list, I mean?”

She nodded, her eyes looking even bigger than they did a minute ago. Christ, when she looked at him like that it did something to his gut. “Want to see?”

“Hell, yeah.” He couldn’t have asked for a better insight into the woman currently monopolizing most of his waking thoughts. She grinned and opened her small hand purse. Her eyes glistened with excitement, like she was going to share a secret with him.

A faded photo fell out when she opened her wallet. Celeste reached for it, but Zane was quicker. An attractive woman and a young girl stood side by side on the steps of a Gothic-looking building. He recognized Jessica immediately, but not the girl next to her. Judging by the clothing and hairstyles, he would place the picture at being taken about ten years earlier. “Who’s this with your mom?”

Celeste cleared her throat. “That’s me,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

Zane looked up sharply to see her face suffused with red, then looked back at the photo, his mind unable to reconcile the woman currently sitting next to him with the young girl in the picture. The girl in the photo was clearly overweight, with long, straight dark hair and thick glasses. Braces were visible in her awkward smile. Jessica was beaming, proudly holding up a diploma, the name easily identifiable: Princeton.

Celeste snatched the photo back, clearly embarrassed.

“You look different,” he said simply. Celeste snorted, then immediately brought her hand up to her face, mortified. “Ya think?”

He chuckled. “You know, I was the smallest kid in my class until I hit high school. First day of my freshman year, I walked in and was promptly escorted to the principal’s office. They thought I was an elementary school kid who got on the wrong bus.”

Celeste raised her gaze, her eyes widening. He knew she was trying to picture him as that skinny, awkward kid he’d once been. “Really?”

“Yep. Then in one year, I shot up seven inches. It was awkward as hell; I grew so fast I actually had trouble with my balance. The next year, my testosterone kicked in and I packed on about fifty pounds and another five inches. Started growing hair in all kinds of interesting places, too,” he winked.

She laughed, the last of her embarrassment fading away. There was that tug in his gut again, feeling like some kind of hero because he’d made her smile.

“So… about that bucket list. Let’s see it.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Celeste handed him the paper. It was well-worn, soft and tissue-like from being folded and unfolded so many times. A bulleted list in handwriting so perfectly uniform it might have been computer generated, spanned two columns. His eyes scanned the list, his amusement growing with the first few entries.
 

• Get a tattoo.
  
• Get a navel piercing.
  
• Go skinny dipping.
  
• Ride a Harley.
  
• Pet a snake.
  
• Dance with reckless abandon.
  
• Go to Disneyland.
  
• Adopt a pet.
   
  

“This is your list?” he asked. He’d been expecting her list to include items on a much grander scale, but
hell
. Most of it consisted of things regular people did every day.

She nodded, squirming a little. Zane returned his attention to the list, squinting at the singular entry crossed off.

• Have wild hot sex with a gorgeous stranger.
  

He had trouble reading beyond that line. He raised his eyes and found her looking at him intently. He held her gaze for an eternity, searching for something – anything – that might give him a clue to what she was thinking at that moment.

Is that all he was to her – an item to be checked off a to-do list? Is that why she resisted his attempts for anything more? Or was there a chance that she was willing to take things a little further?

“Are you angry with me?” she asked finally.

“No,” he said, drawing the word out. “Should I be?”

She shrugged, dropping her eyes and reclaiming her list. She refolded it carefully and put it back into her wallet. “I never expected to see you again after that first night.”

Well, that made two of them. “Are you disappointed?”

She looked him right in the eye. “No. I’m not,” she said firmly, clearly. “Surprised? Yes. But disappointed? No.” She blew out a breath. “I think the more telling question is, are you?”

Zane might have laughed if the situation were different, the irony was just too much. Celeste was looking at him from beneath half-shuttered eyes, trying to appear only casually interested in his answer, but he knew better. Her hands clutched her little purse so tightly he could see the white skin stretched over her knuckles, and she was holding her breath as if his next words meant everything.

He was about as far from disappointed as he could get, but he couldn’t tell her that. After having to deal with her ex, she’d probably be running fast and far if she had any clue just how strongly he was drawn to her. It was unnerving, even to him. So he sidestepped all that by answering, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

She released the pent-up breath slowly, almost imperceptibly. The death grip on her clutch relaxed. “Yeah, you are.”

Zane sipped his coffee, hiding the intense wave of relief that flooded through him.
Crisis averted
.
 

Mitch watched Zane in silence for the better part of an hour. His nephew was definitely up to something. There was a gleam in his eye, a sense of purpose to his movements that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. While he wouldn’t readily admit it, the older man had been worried when Zane first came to him a few months earlier. Despite the fact that Zane said all the right things, and did all the right things, Mitch knew he hadn’t completely come to terms with everything that had happened. Sometimes Mitch would catch him staring off into space with a look so haunted it sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t gone entirely these days, but was markedly less than it had been.

“Should I be worried?” he asked dryly from behind his newspaper as Zane gulped down a cup of coffee and shoveled large spoons of whole-grain cereal into his mouth.

Zane finished chewing, swallowed and grinned, looking every bit the devilish little boy Mitch remembered and feared had been lost forever. As concerned as he was for Celeste, he could not find it in himself to be sorry to see his nephew looking happy again. “Nope.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yep.” Another infectious grin, and Mitch found his own lips quirking.

“Seeing Celeste today?”

“Uh-huh.” His blue eyes twinkled.

Mitch lowered his newspaper and glared at his nephew, giving up all pretense of feigned indifference. “What are you up to, Zane?” he finally asked.

Zane rinsed his bowl and coffee mug in the sink then placed both in the dishwasher. His grin widened as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet and wiped an imaginary speck of dust from the surface. “I’m going to help Celeste with her bucket list.”

Mitch stared at the door as it closed with a snick in Zane’s wake.
 

* * *
 

Zane could barely contain himself as he made his way over to Celeste’s. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so excited; it certainly hadn’t been any time in recent history and definitely never over something as simple as this.

He couldn’t wait to see her face. He’d texted her earlier, so she was expecting him, but he had kept the details of his plan a secret. As far as Celeste knew, they were going to spend the rest of the morning at her place, the same way they usually did. Spending hours making love to Celeste and discovering new ways to make her squeal with pleasure was definitely a great way to pass the time but today, he had something else in mind.

“Change into jeans and grab a jacket. Oh, and tie your hair back.”

Celeste tilted her head inquisitively, forgetting the wireless router she’d been tweaking. “It’s eighty-two degrees outside. Why would I need a jacket and jeans?”

“Because,” he said with exaggerated patience, taking the device from her hand and replacing it with a helmet. She looked at the shiny black headgear, then at Zane. She took in his jeans, black leather Harley Davidson boots, black T, and the leather jacket in his hand, and licked her lips. Then her eyes widened as realization dawned.

“You have a motorcycle?”

He grinned. “I have a motorcycle.”
 

* * *
 

“Quit squirming,” Zane commanded much later that night, splaying his large hand across her midsection to hold her down. He used the cotton swap in his other hand to carefully clean around the fresh piercing. “You’ve got to keep this clean or it’ll get infected.”

When he was finished with that, he applied salve to the new ink on the inside of her left hip bone, his touch gentle. Unable to keep still, Celeste propped herself up on her elbows to watch and grinned at his surgeon-like precision.

It had been an incredible day. Climbing on the back of Zane’s Harley, she’d snuggled up close and wrapped her arms around him, vacillating between thrilling anticipation and terror. At least until Zane stopped, looked into her eyes, and commanded her to breathe.

“I swear that you will be safe with me,” he’d whispered. A sense of calm had overtaken her then; a serene peace created by the absolute conviction in his eyes. If Zane said she would be safe with him, she would be.

They’d cruised up the coastline, Celeste nearly giddy with joy. The sensation of the rumbling bike beneath her, the strength and hardness of Zane in front of her. The warmth of the sun and the rush of air as they cut through it at breath-stealing speed. The scent of salt and sea and Harley and leather and Zane…

After about an hour or so, he had veered off the highway, taking increasingly smaller roads until they came to a cozy restaurant nestled along a particularly lovely cove, where they shared a tasty lunch of fresh seafood. From there they travelled to a tattoo and piercing shop.

Zane greeted the owner as if he knew him, then explained to Celeste that they had been in the service together. Celeste half-hid behind Zane at first, somewhat frightened by Chet Graver’s towering frame and shaved head. With intricate sleeves of ink and a multitude of piercings – some of which she just couldn’t stop staring at – he cut an imposing figure.

She warmed up to him quickly, though. For as fierce and frightening as he was on the outside, she felt inexplicably safe in his presence. He explained the piercing and tattoo processes in detail. She had to sign a few papers, then set about choosing what she wanted. Zane watched, amused, as she took her time. It gave him and Chet a chance to catch up a little. Celeste only caught bits and pieces of their conversation, but it was enough to surmise that they had been on tour together in Afghanistan.

Zane held her hand, his eyes glittering with both approval and desire as Chet inserted the dazzling crystal navel ring. It was over so fast she barely had time to think about it before he was reclining her seat and swabbing the inside of her hip bone with antiseptic.

For this, she kept her eyes on Zane. It took longer than the piercing, but not nearly as long as she’d thought it would. Chet was very skilled, and the small heart and flower design she’d selected wasn’t overly complex.

“Have I mentioned how fucking sexy this is?” Zane growled, tracing around her new adornments with the pad of his index finger, knowing full well he had. Several times, in fact.

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. But words are cheap, I thought you were a man of action.”

He moved so fast she barely saw him and the next moment, she was naked and he was looming over her.

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he crooned in warning, licking the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. Spending a good part of the day snug against his hard body, watching his eyes darken with lust as she was pierced and inked… she knew exactly what she wanted. No man had ever listened like Zane had. No one had ever gone to such lengths to please her. And no other man had ever made her feel as beautiful and sexy as she felt at that very moment.

“I don’t want to be careful,” she hummed, threading her fingers through his dark, silky hair, every bit as aroused as he was. She tugged, not enough to hurt but enough to let him know she was needy, too. “I’m a badass biker chick now, with the ink and body studs to prove it.”

He chuckled against her skin, blowing little puffs of hot, moist air. “Yes, you are. What’s a boy scout to do?”
 

* * *
 

Zane flipped them over so he was on his back and she straddled him. Her amber eyes were molten, with golden flecks and red flames licking hungrily down at him. She slipped her hands under his black T and pushed upward, exposing his skin. Leaning down, she tongued one of his nipples. He groaned and lifted his head to find her watching him intently. After kissing the other side, she began to slide down his body, laving wet kisses across his heated skin while her hands blindly began to undo his jeans.

Unable to do anything more than watch – fearful that even the slightest move on his part might break the spell – his eyes bored into her. What he saw nearly did him in – amongst all that hungry desire was an uncertainty that stilled him to his core and he
knew
, just as he instinctively knew so many other things about her: she’d never gone down on a man before.

He lifted his hips, silently acknowledging her request when she began to tug the denim from his body. The feel of her soft, smooth skin over his legs made his whole body shiver in anticipation.

Celeste’s hand wrapped around him and he hissed his pleasure. As if afraid to hurt him, she kept her grip loose as she stroked him, her eyes wide with discovery. Zane closed his much larger hand around hers and silently instructed her on what he liked best. Eager to please, Celeste was an excellent student.

When her lips first pressed against his manhood, Zane bucked. Her kiss was so light, but it burned him like a brand.

“Ah, baby, yes!” Her kisses became deeper, wetter, her tongue a wicked little tool surely meant to drive the last threads of sanity and rational thought from his mind.

He watched, enthralled by the sight of Celeste loving him with her mouth, the feel of her honeyed waves stroking the sensitive skin around his pelvis. “Suck me, baby, please, before I die from want of it.”

She obeyed without question, drawing the thick head into her mouth. Zane cursed, fisting his hands in her hair, desperately fighting the urge to thrust right down her gifted little throat. “Fuck! So good, baby, so fucking good….”

Celeste beamed at his praise and encouragement, her eyes filled with the same desire he felt. She tried lots of different things, always watching, always gauging his reactions, and seemingly loving every second of it.

He knew he sure as hell did.

Before long, his entire body had gone completely rigid and he couldn’t hold off one minute more. She squealed a little when he lifted her from between his legs and flipped her on her back. There was a brief sound of ripping foil, a few muttered oaths and then he was plunging inside her furiously.

Thank God she was so wet, he thought, nearly blind with lust and need. He pounded into her, her sheath gripping him like the most perfect, tightest fist, her feminine juices spilled out over her sex, coating the very base of his shaft and balls even as he still felt the slow burn of her saliva along the length of his cock beneath the condom.

“You are so fucking hot,” he panted, incapable of mercy, penetrating her with thorough strokes and a singular purpose to brand her as she had branded him; to claim her, imprint himself on her, as she had done to him.

Her cries grew in intensity and volume as she struggled to hold on, but Zane wouldn’t let her, not when he couldn’t control himself. Being inside Celeste, hearing her cries of pleasure, feeling the grips of her hands made such a thing impossible. She was like the perfect storm, rolling in and over and around him, intense and all-powerful, and all he could do was ride her through it.

“Come for me, baby,” he ground out, a pitiless command. “Come all over my cock!”

She obeyed without hesitation and he was following her over the edge, tumbling into the abyss. Zane thrust deep as her sheath clamped down around him like a living vise, rippling and squeezing, sucking his life and soul right out through his cock. The first jet was both agonizing and exquisite, making him shout her name even as he buried his face in her neck. He continued to thrust, each penetration drawing forth more of his essence as he held her even tighter, unable to get close enough, feeling like it would never be enough.

With one final shudder, he fell to the side, pulling Celeste with him as he fought to regain his breath.

Side by side, still joined and wrapped around each other, Zane tucked her head beneath his chin. Post-coital cuddling had never been his thing, but he couldn’t imagine not doing it with Celeste. He needed the contact. Needed to feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest, her breasts pressing against him with every heaving breath.

Lying there with her, stroking her back, hearing her contented sighs, he could no longer ignore the truth. He was breaking all of the rules he’d known.

He was falling in love with Celeste.