Protecting Fate (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Z wasn’t even close to done with her.

It should delight Sara to know that—it was what she wanted, after all—but there was a curious numbness building in her chest. She was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. And she wanted to go deeper. So she nodded against his hold. His grin was a reward in and of itself. “Good girl.”

It’s only three times
, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter if she lapped up his praise like it was better than chocolate, because this had a clear and concrete expiration date. There had to be.

He set her on the bed and stood. “Lie on your back with your hands laced behind your neck.” He waited for her to obey. “Do not move.” Then he walked out of the room.

She craned her neck, but there was nothing to see. It felt unnatural to lie there when her body was already recovering from those mind-blowing orgasms. She itched to get up, to move, to do
something
. But he’d said not to move, and she was more curious to see what he had planned than what her punishment would be if she got up. She shifted, her ass still smarting from the spanking he’d delivered.

A few minutes later, he returned, two belts in his hand. She went still, her heart skipping at the sight. Was he going to beat her again? She wasn’t afraid of pain, but it didn’t do much for her if there wasn’t pleasure attached. Sara opened her mouth to tell him just that, but at the last second remembered his command to be silent and didn’t say anything.

He surveyed her, as if checking to see if she was in the exact same position he’d left her. Apparently satisfied, he climbed onto the bed and straddled her ribs. He took her left hand and looped the belt around her wrist. “This won’t hold you unless you want it to.” He met her gaze. “
I
want it to. If your hands leave their bindings, you will be punished.”

The man sure as hell had a lot of rules. Her breath hitched as he fastened the belt to the bedpost, and then repeated the process with her right hand. She gave them an experimental tug. His knots would hold enough for her to yank on them with all her strength, but the loops were wide enough to slip her hand in and out of without difficulty. She gripped the leather and waited.

Z sat back, his weight on his heels rather than her, his cock an impressive length just out of reach of her mouth. “You have exquisite breasts.” He pinched her nipples hard enough to have her back arching off the mattress. “You won’t cover them up for the remainder of our contract.”

Sara shook her head, trying to focus. What did he… The truth hit her in the stomach. He wanted her naked and ready for him whenever he chose to take her. She shivered at the thought. If anyone came out here, they’d see her walking around naked, see Z doing whatever he wanted to her. She clenched her thighs together.

“Now, sweetheart, do you think you’ve been good enough to suck my cock?”

Probably not, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She nodded vigorously. “Yes, Sir.”

He laughed. “Eager, aren’t you?” He leaned forward, putting one hand on the headboard and using the other to guide his cock between her lips. She didn’t waste any time lifting her head and sucking him as deep as she could in this position. Working him with her tongue and lips, she moaned. God, she needed more, so much more.

Z pumped into her mouth, transferring one hand to the back of her head, controlling even this. His low curse was music to her ears and she tightened her grip on the belts, because it was all too tempting to touch him, to run her hands up this big thighs, to cup his balls, to supplement her oral strokes with manual ones.

“Enough.” He backed up, ignoring the sound of protest she made. He grabbed a second condom and rolled it on while she watched. Every move the man made was precise, exerting just enough effort to get what he wanted done. So carefully controlled, even when he was in the midst of a haze of lust. She wanted him between her thighs again, buried deep inside her as he drove them both to finish.

He must have been thinking the same thing, because he braced himself on his elbows and pushed into her, one slow inch at a time. “This is one, Sara. Don’t think for a second that you’re going to get off so easy with the other two.” He sheathed himself to the hilt, holding perfectly still. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She was only too happy to obey. He took her mouth, kissing her like both their lives depended on it as he rolled his hips, grinding against her clit while he was impossibly deep inside her. She gripped the belts so tightly, she was sure she’d have imprints on her palms, but she refused to let go, even though she wanted to touch him almost more than she wanted her next orgasm.

“Now.” Z buried his hands in her hair, sucking on her neck. “Come for me now.”

As if her body had been awaiting his command, it exploded, a breathless scream tearing itself from her mouth as she came. She kept her legs tightly around him as he cursed and thrust hard into her, following her over the precipice. Her body shook so hard, it was all she could do to lie there and ride it out.

He gentled his kisses against her neck and nipped her earlobe. “You pleased me tonight.”

The warmth in her chest had no place, even in this situation. It was only sex. Outstanding, forget-your-own-name sex, but sex all the same. Even with the power games, she had no business wanting to curl up around him and sleep. That was crossing so many lines, Sara didn’t even know where to start.

She had to put up some boundaries. Now.

…

Z could actually feel her trying to withdraw from him while he was still buried inside her. He’d made the mistake of tolerating that shit with his ex—he wasn’t about to do it with Sara. He lifted his head and forced her to meet his gaze. Sure enough, those blue eyes were already shaking off the pleasure and looking wary.

He had a choice now. He could push her, either until she gave in or until something broke, or he could back off and give them both some breathing room.

Since Z wasn’t feeling the least bit settled right then, he chose the latter. He climbed off her, and pulled her to her feet after him. She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. If either of them started talking right then, they were bound to say something they’d regret.

He wasn’t sure that would be a bad thing, though.

Before he could think too closely on that, he towed her into the oversized bathroom and turned on the shower. He tested the water, and turned to find her watching him with a strange look on her face. “What?”

“I don’t know. This is just…”

Strange. Unexpected. Completely fucked.

He kept the words internal. It wasn’t her job to shoulder his baggage, but hell if he’d expected
this
. She’d taken everything he’d given her and come back begging for more. He searched her face, looking for signs of regret or, worse, fear—the two major things he’d missed in Jennifer—but there was nothing except a strange mix of contentment and worry that was mirrored in the emotions twining through him in that moment. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it would be better if we did this separately.”

She was probably right, but he wasn’t ready to let her walk out yet, so Z held open the shower door and motioned her to precede him. With a sigh, she obeyed the silent command.

The shower was big enough for four people, and the dual showerheads gave them plenty of room to maneuver. As much as he wanted to keep touching her, he stayed on his side, scrubbing himself down and watching her do the same.

“You’re staring.” She turned and tipped her face up to the spray, letting the soap wash off her body in paths his hands itched to follow.

He didn’t bother to deny it. Instead, he let the hot water beat into his skin in a vain effort to release the tension there. Opposing urges rose inside him, the need to haul her ass to his room to sleep in his bed, to touch her and fuck her and make her his in the only way he could.

And to walk out of this bathroom and do something—anything—to get his head back on straight.

Neither option was the right one. He’d tried avoiding her, and that had worked for a less than twenty-four hours. Z called things like they were, and he didn’t like his chances of keeping his hands off her for the remainder of their time here. It was a losing battle, and a waste of effort. He wanted her. She wanted him. There was no point in spending precious energy fighting the inevitable.

Hell, he didn’t
want
to fight it.

So he chose neither and settled for a middle of the road option. “Have dinner with me.”

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Dinner.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you forget that we’re on house arrest in the middle of nowhere?”

“No.” He shut off his water, and reached around to shut off hers as well. “But I happen to know someone cooked a whole hell of a lot of food earlier. I can work a microwave as well as the next man.” He leaned forward, tracking the drop of water trailing down her collarbone and over her breast. “I’ll even get out a candle and make it truly fancy.”

“Be still my heart.” A tentative smile pulled at the edges of her lips. “I guess I did work up something of an appetite.”

“Thought so.” He grabbed two towels and handed her one. As tempting as it was to dry her off himself, to spend all the time he wanted exploring every inch of her body, it wouldn’t do a damn thing for his control. So he kept his distance, drying off efficiently and walking back into the bedroom to pull on his pants. He turned in time to see her shrug into the tiny robe she’d been wearing earlier, the bottom of it barely hitting the tops of her thighs. It was all too easy to imagine going to his knees in front of her, drawing back the silky fabric and…

Z looked away.
Keep it together, Loreto
.

He followed her out of the bedroom and down the stairs, struggling to keep his thoughts away from all the available surfaces to press Sara against and fuck her until he forgot all the reasons this was a terrible idea. To distract himself, he started talking, “How long have you worked for your uncle?”

“I would think that’d be in the file you’re sure to have on me.”

“I don’t have a file on you.” When she shot him a look over her shoulder, he amended, “I don’t have an exhaustive file on you.” There hadn’t been much time to get this place put together, let alone to gather all the information he usually would on a body he or his men were guarding. Add in the fact that this was Garrett’s sister, and he’d been reluctant to dig too deeply on her. The man was entitled to his secrets and, as his family, so was she.

“And what does this non-exhaustive file say?” She walked into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge to pull out several stacks of Tupperware.

“Do you want some help?”

She waved him away. “Sit. This will only take a minute. And stop trying to change the subject.”

Z leaned forward, propping his elbows on the counter. “If you were charged with guarding someone, or setting it up, what information would you put in there?”

She paused. “Is this some weird way of answering without answering?”

“I’m curious.” He’d only met Rodger Reaver a few times, but he was a man who would fit on Z’s team. He was competent and smart and had a ruthless streak that Z could admire. He might have given Garrett training, but the Army had done a lot of that, too. But Rodger had Sara working under him for years. To hear tell of it, he was grooming her to take over the company when he finally retired.

She’d been off her game for the last two days, but she hadn’t let being caught off-guard slow her down after that first time. It was impressive, really. And he found himself wanting to know more, to see more.

“Okay, fine, I’ll play. I’d get every bit of information that linked up my client with the person or entity that wanted to see them dead. Knowing the
why
behind it could be useful, especially since it could potentially tell me how far the enemy is willing to go in order to take them out—and how hard my people are going to have to work to keep the client alive.” She dumped several of the bowls into a large saucepan, turned on the heat, and then covered it.

“Then I’d look into what would make my client problematic. Do they have any addictions, any history of stupid behavior, any red flags that would mean my job making sure the idiot didn’t end up dead would be harder than normal.” She tapped her finger against her lip. “I might look into what their weaknesses and interests were, too. You want to make the situation as comfortable as you can, while still being safe, so they don’t get twitchy and decide to take a jaunt somewhere that would complicate the situation.”

He found he liked listening to her reason it out. He’d known she was smart, but seeing it was something else altogether. Z sat back to keep from reaching for her. “That about sums it up.”

“Really? And here I thought you’d have the name of the guy I lost my virginity to or what my favorite food is. I’m very disappointed.”

“I can see that.” He shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Why don’t you fill in the blanks then, since my file is so lacking?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think I’ll make it that easy on you.” Her eyes lit up. “You first.”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I’m not a sharer.”

“Funny, neither am I. It’s tit for tat, Z.” With a grin that kicked him right in the chest, she turned back to check the pan and stir it.

Would it really hurt to share such harmless information? Just because they talked didn’t mean they’d traipse through ancient history that was better left untouched. He watched her set a kettle on the stove. “Okay, I’ll play.” He thought back over the two questions she’d brought up. Easy enough to answer. “I lost my virginity to a sweet girl named Hilary. My favorite food is Mexican.”

“Was it any good?”