Zane’s Redemption (10 page)

Portia shifted, aligning her core with his hard length, and felt a whimper escape her lips.

“Fuck!” he ground out.

Panicked, she lifted her lids and crashed into his heated gaze. His head moved closer. Her pulse stuttered: Zane was going to kiss her.

When his lips brushed lightly against hers, her lips parted on a sigh and her eyes fell shut.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

***

“Fuck!” Zane cursed and pushed himself away from Portia, turning in the same instant so she wouldn’t be able to see how she affected him. As if that would make it any better. He’d pressed his swollen cock against her so hard and for so long, there was no doubt in his mind that she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“The door,” she said, her voice no more agitated than as though she were ordering pizza, and not being interrupted at the most inconvenient of moments.

Maybe he should be grateful to whoever had rung the doorbell for saving him from the biggest mistake of his career, if not his life: kissing a woman he was charged to protect. And for all he knew, the kiss would have led to much more. Within minutes, he would have had her flat on her back on the couch with his cock pounding into her and his lips devouring every inch of her skin.

“I’ll get the door.” Portia’s voice penetrated his haze.

He swiveled. “I’ll get it.” After all, he was her bodyguard and had to make sure no harm came to her. Yeah, that was working out really well.

He stalked to the door and spied through the hole.

“I’m expecting my friend Lauren,” Portia said from behind him.

Zane opened the door and scrutinized the young woman who wore sunglasses even though it was night. She was about Portia’s age and from what he’d read in Portia’s file, she was the mayor’s daughter and a hybrid. He sniffed. Her scent was masked by perfume so strong, it was almost imperceptible. Only her aura identified her as a hybrid.

“Hey, Lauren, come in.”

The girl pushed past him. She opened her grey Parka and lowered her hoodie, revealing the same long hair as Portia. Her high heels echoed on the wooden floor as she hugged her friend as if the two hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

“Let’s do some work,” Lauren said.

“We’ll be upstairs. No interruptions please. We’re studying for a test,” Portia requested with barely a look at him. The little bitch had seduced him, and now she was giving him the cold shoulder.

Zane seethed as he slammed the front door shut and walked back to the sofa.

“What was that all about?” Lauren whispered.

Despite the fact that she’d reached the top of the stairs, Zane could still hear her, as he could Portia’s response. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a bodyguard.”

Zane’s fangs lengthened. Just a bodyguard? Oh, he’d show her what he thought of that statement, right when Lauren was gone. If Portia thought she could get away with dressing him down like that after she’d come onto him, she’d have it coming. How dare she press her body against him like that, the scent of her arousal wrapping around her as though she were in heat, and minutes later toss him aside as if he were chopped liver?

He growled low and dark. Oh, he’d give her a piece of his mind.

For the next two hours, he alternated between watching TV on mute, pacing the length of the living room, and staring holes into the wall, all the while trying not to listen in on the conversation between Portia and Lauren. Not that there was much to overhear: they rarely talked, and when they did, they did so quietly. The fragments he picked up centered around a psychology test that presumably was scheduled for the next morning. All in all, the wait got on his nerves, and the time stretched longer than he thought was bearable.

Zane rubbed his neck, noticing the flawless skin that had grown over his injuries. He would do better asking Samson for a few nights off so he could investigate Brandt’s son and find out where he’d been before he’d arrived at his house. With a bit of luck, it would lead him straight to Müller. He was clearly wasting his time here.

When he suddenly heard a door open on the upstairs floor, he sat up straight.

“Thanks so much for helping me out!” Portia drawled.

“Anytime. What are friends for?” came Lauren’s predictable reply.

Blah, blah, get out!
Zane cursed inside.

“Can we go through the questions once more right before class?” Portia asked.

“Sure. Shall we say a half hour before? We’ll meet at the cafeteria?”

“Perfect.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Zane quickly slunk back into the sofa cushions and grabbed a news magazine from the coffee table, pretending to read.

Lauren’s god-awful perfume spread in the living room as she came down the stairs. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed that she’d already pulled the hoodie of her grey Parka up as she wandered to the door. He gave a quick nod acknowledging her presence, but didn’t look at her. That was all he needed: Lauren telling Portia that he gave a shit.

When the door closed behind her, he tossed the unread magazine back on the coffee table and impatiently tapped his foot, trying to stop himself from jumping up immediately to storm into Portia’s room. At least he could keep up the pretense of control and not make it obvious that his need to take her to task about her earlier seduction was outweighing his common sense and his restraint.

He managed about ten minutes of holding himself back, before he shot up from the couch. “Fuck it!”

Lauren’s perfume still hung heavy in the house as he reached the upstairs landing and became even more intense as he neared Portia’s room. How Portia would be able to sleep at all tonight with that stink filling her room was beyond his comprehension. He for one was positively choking on the stuff.

Zane halted in front of the closed door, hesitating for an instant. Should he knock? The thought instantly pissed him off. Of course he wouldn’t knock. This wasn’t a social call where he begged to be admitted. He was here to dole out punishment for her earlier behavior. There would be no friendly knock to announce his arrival. Maybe she had already sensed him approach, even though, as always, his footsteps had been soundless, and with the fucking perfume stinking up the house, she would have a hard time smelling him, as he would her.

His heart suddenly rocked to a halt. He couldn’t smell her. He yanked at the knob and swung the door open, charging into the room, already knowing what he would find.

“That little bitch!” She’d outsmarted him.

On Portia’s bed, Lauren lay stretched out, lazily flicking through the channels on the TV. When she saw him, the remote fell from her hand, and she sat up in a start.

“Ah, shit!” Lauren had the good grace to look somewhat guilty at being caught at the deception the two had concocted.

“Your fucking perfume!” he growled.  The two women had purposefully screwed with his sense of smell so he wouldn’t notice Portia sneaking past him. The thick grey Parka with the hood and the wide, dark sunglasses had topped off the disguise. “I should have known it was a trick!”

“Shoulda,” Lauren replied with a shrug.

Zane snarled, not bothering to hide his fangs. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

Zane recognized a lie when he heard one. He was in no mood to play a little cat and mouse game with a juvenile hybrid. Without warning, he pounced, snatched Lauren’s arms and pinned her against the wall at the head of the bed. The girl stared at him, stunned. She clearly hadn’t expected him to get physical.

“Now I’ll repeat my question: where is Portia?”

“My dad is going to have your ass for this.” She thrust her chin up in defiance.

“Your father is going to ground you for what you did and he’ll pat me on the shoulder.”

Lauren pressed her lips together. “He won’t.”

“Talk, or I’ll haul your ass to your father and we’ll find out, shall we?”

The standoff took thirty seconds, and Zane didn’t blink a single time. He was good at this, and Lauren was a mere amateur and obviously not as sure about her father’s sentiments as she pretended.

“Fine. She went to a party.”

“Where?”

“At one of the fraternities.”

The moment Zane had the address, he punched it into his cell phone’s GPS and charged out the door.

Chapter Ten

The fraternity house was hopping. Music blared from oversized speakers and filled the entire three story Victorian mansion. The place was packed with students holding beer bottles or plastic cups with hard liquor. In the front room, people danced, but on the fringes of it, others tried to talk over the din of the music.

 “Oh, come on, Michael, don’t be mad at me.” Portia batted her eyelashes at her fellow student. “I told you my father had an emergency last night and I had to rush to get to him. I would have called earlier if I could.”

Michael pulled her into the hallway where it was only marginally quieter. “All right, but just so you know, I’m not someone to be pushed around. You’re hot, Portia, but I’m not letting you dance on my nose.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I know, Michael. Why don’t we find a place that’s a little quieter?” She motioned her head to the stairs that led to the upper floors.

As Michael took her hand to lead her upstairs, she waited for the spark of excitement to flare, but nothing happened. She glanced at him sideways. He was an inch or so taller than she, quite handsome for a twenty-two-year-old, and well built. She could do worse than Michael. But even though he held her hand firmly in his, and the touch wasn’t unpleasant, there were no bolts of electricity, no flames of fire licking her skin, as when Zane had touched her.

Maybe once they started kissing, she would get in the mood. She had to. Surely, it couldn’t be all that difficult to get in the mood for sex. Hell, one touch by Zane, and she’d been ready to explode like Mount St. Helens. If an unfriendly guy like Zane could do that to her, it shouldn’t be beyond the capabilities of a nice guy like Michael. All they needed was a little privacy, and well, the right mood for it: a dark room, some candles, a fire in a fireplace, some pillows on the floor.

Ah shit! She shouldn’t be dreaming up something romantic. This wasn’t about romance. All she wanted was to lose her virginity. She had no interest in a romantic relationship with Michael. Did he know that?

As they reached the landing, she tugged on his hand. He turned toward her.

“It’s only for tonight,” she stammered, a little at a loss as to how to make it clear to him that she wasn’t interested in a relationship.

“Don’t worry, Lauren explained.”

Shocked, Portia’s mouth fell open. “What did she say?” She hoped Lauren hadn’t blabbed more than was absolutely necessary. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

He grinned, showing his cute dimples. “Don’t look so horrified. She said you’re a little shy when it comes to guys, and that you just want to do it once to get over your shyness. Could have fooled me, but hey, I don’t mind.”

Portia cringed, but swallowed her anxiety. Lauren was right, she just had to get through this once, and then she could go on with her life and wait for the right guy. And even better that Michael understood. That way, there would be no awkwardness afterwards, and they could remain friends.

Portia looked at the few people who littered the upstairs corridor, wondering if they knew what she and Michael were planning, but they seemed too preoccupied with their own lives to even notice them. She was grateful for that.

“Okay then.” She forced a smile and took a step toward one of the bedrooms. A strong hand on her shoulder jerked her back and spun her around. “What the—” The words got stuck in her throat.

Zane towered over her, his face a mask of anger. “You thought I wouldn’t find you?”

Not really; but she hadn’t thought he’d find her before she’d taken care of, well, business.

“Hey, who are you?” Michael interfered. “Leave her alone. She’s with me.”

Zane glared at Michael, and Portia instantly felt sorry for him.  He wouldn’t fare any better than Eric had at her father’s hands. And she really didn’t want that on her conscience.

“She’s not with you. So, shove off.” Zane grabbed her arm and pulled her toward one of the doors.

“Let her go!” Michael insisted.

Portia tossed him a pleading look. He would only get hurt if he tried to fight Zane. And while she wanted to fight Zane herself, she knew she had to pacify Michael first. “It’s all right, Michael. He works for my father.”

Michael tilted his head. “Are you sure? I can call the police.”

Portia shook her head. “No, please, don’t. My father will only get angry.”

Finally Michael nodded. He graced Zane with another weary look before he turned away.

Zane swung the nearest door open. A couple making out on a bed shrieked.

“Are you blind? This room is taken!” the guy yelled.

“Out, both of you,” Zane ordered with a voice that brooked no refusal. “I’m not gonna say it twice.” His hard face only underscored the fact that he wasn’t bluffing.

The two students scrambled from the room. Zane slammed the door shut behind them and turned the lock. Click. She was alone with him. And he wasn’t happy. Oh no, he was pissed, and by the looks of it, he’d unleash his foul mood on her any second now.

***

Zane couldn’t keep his anger leashed any longer and allowed his fangs to descend. Portia had been about to disappear into one of the bedrooms with that guy to—Christ, he didn’t even want to complete the thought, because imagining that guy’s hands on her, brought his blood to boiling point. And once there, he’d have no means to cool it down.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” he accused her, unable to hold his fury in check.

Portia raised her head in defiance and leveled an angry glare at him. “None of your business!” The
fucking
was implied in her tone.

Zane growled. Her words had just blasted the top off his piss-o-meter. He grabbed her and hauled her against the door, then pinned her there with his body. “You are my business, like it or not.”

Her breath hitched, and he ground his hips into her, his hard cock eager for a connection with her softness.