Ruthless (10 page)

A few minutes later, he growled at me. “Ah, princess, you gotta let up. I'm gonna—”

But I didn't stop. I held on tighter and quickened my pace. Three strokes later, Zag shouted and arched off the couch and into my mouth. I swallowed as he came.

He sagged into the couch with a groan and I pulled away, resting my head on his lap. My breathing shuddered and I worked my sore jaw. Honestly, I thought I would've felt less guilty now. But I didn't. Instead I felt horny and guilty. Apparently blow jobs didn't help one atone. It didn't help that I had an ache between my thighs that wouldn't let up. But then blow jobs always got me worked up. Seemed counterproductive to me.

“Mmmm, baby, come here.” Zag reached down and grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up onto his lap. “I think it's time to do you.”

I made a face. “But I'm all gross from work and wearing my gym clothes.”

“Like I give a fuck.”

I rolled my eyes. He was such a guy. “Well,
I
do.”

“Fine. I got a solution to this problem, too.” Zag stood with me in his arms and kicked his jeans off, then hoisted me over his shoulder and into a fireman's carry. “We'll just go clean up. I can use a shower myself.”

“Zag!” I squealed as he jostled me, making his way into the bathroom.

He shut the door behind us and let me slowly slide down his body. “What?”

I just had to laugh. Like I had any chance of not getting naked with this man—I didn't have that much willpower. “Fine.”

“I knew you'd see it my way. Now strip.”

I mock saluted him, then grabbed the bottom of my shirt and leisurely pulled it up my body and over my head. My breasts bounced slightly when they came clear of the shirt.

Zag swore under his breath.

Smiling smugly, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, but I didn't let it fall. Instead I clutched it close to me and tilted my chin at him in a clear challenge. “Come on. This isn't a peep show. Tit for tat.”

Zag grinned. “I'll show you my tats if you show me your tits.”

“Oh my god.” I laughed. “We're not five, playing doctor here.”

“Hey, you started it.”

“But I'm showing more skin than you, so I think you should pay up first.”

“Fine.” Zag whipped his shirt off and I heard a faint ripping sound. “Your turn, princess.”

It'd been a few weeks since I'd seen the magnificence of Zag's nude chest—his tattoos, his scars, and the faint brown hair dusting his pecs and down the middle of his abs before continuing in a trail that disappeared into his boxers—the man was a work of art. I was pretty sure I had drool on my chin at the sight.

“Gawk while you strip.”

Torn out of my worshipful stare by his smart-ass direction, I flushed and let my bra slide down my arms and to the floor. Now I only had my yoga pants on to protect me from his heated stare.

And staring he was. The second my bra dropped to the floor, his eyes turned a deep gold color like he was lit from within by his naughty thoughts. Zag wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. But then he hesitated.

“Now who's showing more skin?” Zag's eyes darted from my yoga pants to his boxers and he cocked a brow. “I think you should pay up now.”

It was just like that arrogant bastard to throw my own words back at me. I had to laugh. He was so cute when he was being all cocky. I tossed him my own confident smile, then slowly peeled my yoga pants down my legs until they pooled at my feet.

If it were possible, his eyes grew even more golden. The shit-eating grin fell from his face and he stared at me with an intensity that made my heart pound. All the teasing, lighthearted fun fled as he stalked toward me.

“Zag, I told you: Shower first, then we can—”

He stopped within a hair's breadth of my body, his lips hovering over mine. “Shut up, princess.”

Then he took my lips in a crushing, soul-searing kiss that stole my breath and every thought from my head. I could only feel. His lips on mine. His tongue teasing and dancing with mine. The deep throbbing and aching emptiness between my thighs. He was so potent that even parts of me that weren't touching him sang with electricity.

But then all too soon he stepped back. “Sometimes you're too fucking sexy for words.”

While I was left gasping for breath and searching for a coherent thought, Zag turned and opened the shower door on the huge cubicle, then stepped inside. A beat later, his boxers came sailing out and landed on the other side of the bathroom. The sound of the shower turning on echoed through the once quiet room.

I took another breath. Why was this man so potent? Even now—ten feet away—I could still feel his magnetic pull. And if the pulsing between my thighs was any indication, I'd need to feel a hell of a lot more of him than that.

“You joining me, princess?” Zag's voice reverberated in the bathroom.

Time to put up or shut up. I shucked my panties off and kicked them into the corner with Zag's boxers, then walked toward the open shower door. My eyes bugged out at the sight before me.

Zag full frontal underneath the rainfall showerhead.

It was almost like something out of my fantasy. His head tipped back with his eyes closed as the water cascaded over his naked body. And what a body it was. Tattoos curved around his arms, ribcage, and pecs, a few marred by scars—what looked like faint scrapes from maybe road rash, and several straight lines of raised scar tissue. One of which ran down the right side of his body and looked more like a surgical scar, judging by the circular scars parallel to it.

And I couldn't deny it any longer. I might've been kidding myself earlier about just who Zag was. Sure, he might not be into drugs, but he clearly led a very dangerous lifestyle. A lifestyle that I was about to potentially tie myself to.

Zag wiped water off his face, then gave me a devastating and rare smile. “Are you getting in or what?”

My heart melted. And I had my answer. “Yes.”

I stepped into the shower and tried to leave all the doubts and worry behind me as I closed the door.

But when I turned back to face Zag, the doubts lingered. He must've seen something in my face because the teasing sexiness left his, to be replaced by seriousness.

He cocked his head. “We good?”

I took a shuddering breath. I knew deep inside that Zag wouldn't want to play games—he wouldn't have the time or patience for any of the mind games my last boyfriend had been so damn good at. I had to be either one hundred percent in or one hundred percent out.

I bit my lip. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I doubted you. Sorry that I didn't at least give you a chance to tell me what was going on.”

“I get it. You didn't know anything about me or the club. But never doubt this: I don't screw around with drugs.
Ever.
”

The emphasis he used made me think there was an underlying issue there. His face was so unyielding that I had no doubt he was serious. But there was something more. Something he wasn't telling me.

I nodded, then opened my mouth to ask him about it when he spoke.

“Until we get a handle on Preacher, I don't want you going anywhere on your own.”

“Wait, what? I have a curfew now? I can't leave
my
house without
your
permission?”

His eyes narrowed. “I need to know where you are at all times. And that might mean me or someone I appoint will be physically with you.”

“But the police. I mean, he's in custody and has charges against him. There's no reason for you guys to—”

“It's club business. That's all you need to know. I'm not telling you not to testify. That's your business. I'm telling you what you need to do to stay safe.”

Despite the steam billowing around us, I shivered. “What do you think he's going to do?”

Zag grabbed my arm and pulled me into his chest. “Nothing. I won't let him.”

Looking in his eyes, I melted a little at the intense heat I saw there. I put my head down on his chest and wrapped my arms around him. The thudding of his heart under my cheek and his arms around me relaxed me. I felt so safe and secure. How could I ever have doubted this man?

“We'll figure it out, princess. I just need you to trust me.” He kissed the top of my head, then pulled back until he was holding me at arm's length. “But first we have to do something about those breasts.”

I blinked, then looked down. “What's wrong with my breasts?”

Zag leaned over and grabbed the bar of soap. “They're dirty. I think it'll take at least thirty minutes to get those suckers clean.”

All deep and serious thoughts were gone as laughter and steam filled the bathroom.

J
UNE 28

“So you two are back together? Wait, were you ever officially together?” Emily stirred her iced Caramel Macchiato and gave me the side-eye with her baby blues.

I groaned and buried my face in the intoxicating aroma of my extra-hot vanilla Blonde Roast in the hugest size possible. Anything to avoid Emily and her knowing look—although the mouthwatering scent had more than a little to do with it, too. Ever since that morning a few weeks ago, she wouldn't let me forget that she'd seen me with Zag. Not that there was anything wrong with it, because now I was.

With Zag.

I lifted my cup and took a sip, then gave Emily the look back. “What do semantics matter? We're together now.”

“You know I'm just giving you shit. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

Nicole lifted her coffee cup and gave me a smile. “I told you so.”

I laughed. “And you waited a whole thirty seconds before rubbing it in. Thanks, Nic.”

“No problem.” Nicole took a sip of her coffee. “So since you guys are all official, don't you think it's time you introduced him to your friends? Glimpses of him walking away don't really count. Maybe over drinks at the Mineshaft?”

“You want to meet him?”

“Well, he's an important man in your life now. You guys are going to be together for a while, right? I think we need to take a minute and kick the tires, so to speak.”

I read between the lines of Nicole's little speech. She was so transparent sometimes. “You mean you want me to introduce you to all his hot biker friends.”

Nicole rolled her eyes and shrugged. “What? You can't blame me. I told you that one time I saw him that the man's hot. It stands to reason they're harboring some serious talent in their gang.”

“Club. If I'm going to introduce you guys to Zag and his friends, you can't call it a gang. They're really prickly about that.”

“Sorry. Club. So when do we get to meet all the cute boys?”

“Oh my god, Nic.” Emily wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Is that seriously all you think about?”

Nicole snorted. “And you don't?”

“No, some of us are worrying about more important things, like our jobs and our friend's well-being.”

It was noticeable and obvious why Emily left out her family from her list of concerns. She'd written her family off since her dad had been reported to DCFS—the Department of Children and Family Services—and she'd moved into my house at sixteen. And her parents didn't do anything to get her back. Not that it mattered—Emily'd been an honorary member of my family since grade school. I tried to make up for the lack in her life, but sometimes I wondered if that was why she'd clung to her screwed-up relationship with that abusive asshole for so long. She'd dated Michael for a ridiculous amount of time, given how crazy he was and how badly he'd treated her. That one relationship had soured her on dating men. In the ten-year span of our dating years, I could count the number of guys Emily had gone out with on two fingers—the asshat Michael being one of them. She was so caught up in school, and then work at the library, I doubted she'd even noticed we were in our late twenties. Or maybe she didn't care. God, that thought made me sad.

Nicole shrugged. “Maybe a biker is just the thing to get that stick out of your ass.”

I flinched. “Nicole! Not cool.”

“I'm not wrong.”

“No, what you are is rude.” Emily turned to me and ignored Nicole's innocent look. “Are you going to tell your parents?”

“Which part? That I'm dating a biker or that I saw one of his ‘brothers' selling drugs in the parking lot at work?”

Nicole abandoned her silent taunting of Emily and gave me an incredulous look. “Wait, you haven't even told them about the drug deal?”

“No, I don't want them to worry.”

“But you're going to testify. They're going to find out. It's better if they hear it from you.”

“If it even goes to trial, it'll be months from now. I just wish we had working security cameras on that level, and then this whole thing would be moot. They'd have film of it and I wouldn't have an overprotective biker on my ass.”

Nicole smirked. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“He's making me nervous. Doesn't want me to go anywhere on my own. And he's texting me every hour. It's starting to creep me out.”

Emily traded a look with Nicole. “Like stalker-boyfriend creeping out, or homicidal-biker on-the-loose nervous?”

“What? No, not Zag. I mean, not totally. And Preacher is safely locked up since he couldn't make bail. It's just…I don't know. I think Zag's being overprotective and…”

“You're scared he has a reason to be?” Emily finished for me.

“Yeah. This is totally not my world. I do family barbecues and movies with the girls. Not biker wars and drug deals. I just—” This time I broke off because my phone chirped with an incoming text message.

Zag:
You still out with your girls?

I bit my lip and fought the urge to text back:
Yes, Dad.
Something told me Zag wouldn't find it funny. Instead I held my phone out to Emily and Nicole. “See what I mean?”

Nicole winced. “Yeah, that does seem like overkill.”

I nodded. “I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to install spyware on my phone so he can know where I am at all times.”

Emily shrugged. “I think it's sweet.”

“What?”

“He cares about you and wants to know you're safe. It's sweet.”

“It's nutty. I'm gonna have to talk to him about it.”

Nicole snorted. “Before or after you tell your parents you're dating a biker? Or that you're testifying in a drug trial?”

I closed my eyes and sighed. Nic had a point. If I could, I would avoid the difficult stuff in the naïve belief that it made my life easier. And yet…

I texted Zag back.
We're still at Mackay Mocha House.

Sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow.