ZEKE (13 page)

“That was my brother,” I say, taking another sip of my drink, glad she didn’t let me down. She talked and confirmed what I thought, Zeke had been jealous over Token. I try to stay calm over the news, but inside, I’m beaming.

“Really! That’s good, ‘cause between you and me,” her voice lowers, “I think he might’ve wrecked Zeke. In the cage, there are rules, but out of it, well, your brother looks like he knows how to use his fists.”

“Yeah, he’s a boxer.” I set my beer down. “He heard that I was staying here in town and stopped by for a visit but he left last week.”

“You guys are here for the summer, right?”

“Yes, I have to get back to Manhattan before the school year starts. I’m a teacher.”

“Cool,” she says, eyes fixated on something behind me.

I shift to the left and look over my shoulder to see what’s caught her attention. Zeke’s standing in front of the dancing brunette with his hand resting leisurely below her JLo jeans as if it belongs there or something. His fingers spread across her exposed bright-pink G-string. Head bent down, he’s whispering into her ear. His lowered lids lift and he looks directly at me. And I come to recognize Zeke’s not the only one who owns that atrocious jealousy emotion. My insides spark with anger, disappointment, and a bit of sadness. He smiles at me, and I turn back around in the stool.

“Don’t,” Rusty says, pointing at me. “He’s doing it on purpose. It’s easier for him to push you away. If you like him, then don’t you dare make this easy on him, hear me?” Her head tilts closer to me. “And I can guarantee you. He is worth it.” Her eyes shift to my right as she straightens. “Hey, bitchmeat,” she says with a little grin.

“Hello, my beautiful carpet-muncher,” I hear Zeke reply, the legs scrape against the floor as he pulls the stool aside to stand beside me.

Carpet-muncher? I flash to Rusty, and she gives me another wink. I didn’t know that she was a lesbian.

“Picasso,” Zeke says, leaning against my shoulder. I glance up finding those sparkling gold-speckled eyes. My heart skips a beat. I drop to his mouth as a small smile tugs mischievously on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” I lift my chin, “considering both your brothers are occupying my friends right now, I decided to come here for a drink. Thought maybe I’d see Emmie.” I turn away and pick up my glass. “Is she around?” I stare straight ahead being sure not to make the mistake of making eye contact again.

“No. I haven’t seen her or Jax. Wait, both my brothers?”

I hear the surprise in his voice, but I stay strong and keep my eyes focused on the mirror in front of us. At least, through the variety of bottles on the shelf, I can see part of him, and he’s staring down at me. “Slate’s at Rayna’s.” I tilt my glass back for another swig.

“Reeeallly,” he draws out the word ending with a low whistle. “Good for him.” He gazes down at me for a second, then his eyes move to the mirror and he looks at me for a few more seconds. When I lower my glass back onto the bar, he grabs the back of the stool and slowly spins me around to him. Setting both hands on the arms rests, he leans down. “So you’re brother says you’re good at Madden.”

I stare into his hypnotizing eyes, wanting to bend forward and grab his mouth with mine. I blink. Wait, did he say Madden. I want to suck his face off, and he’s talking about PlayStation. Boys! “I’m not too bad.” I shrug.

“Well, considering my brothers stole your friends away for the night, do want to hang out with me? It’ll be strictly platonic, of course. I’ll let you try to kick my ass in Madden.”

“Where?”

“My place. It’s a slow tonight. Rusty’s got the bar handled. That’s unless, you’d rather hang here and have a few drinks.”

“Are you going to have a drink?”

“Not tonight. I’m not in the mood to get drunk, but if you’re not interested playing me in a game of Madden, then I suppose I could go back over to those ladies for some non-platonic activities.”

Oh, my God! Did he just threaten me or could Rusty be right? Is he intentionally trying to push me away? But he did just invite me over. Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants. Rusty glares at me from across the bar, obviously listening in on our conversation. She shakes her head and points at me.

She is right. I do need to grab this cocky bull by the horns and steer him to show him what he wants. “All right.” I grab my purse from the bar. “I’ll play you in a game of Madden.” I slide my feet down to the floor and stand up. My body presses against his muscular chest. “But only on one condition.”

Beneath hooded eyes, he peers down at me. “What’s that?”

“If I win, then for one hour, you have to obey my every command.” I slip my hand up his soft cotton tee and wrap my fingers around his neck. I pull him closer to me. Damn, he smells good. “Deal?”

His eyebrow rises, and he takes a deep breath. My breasts meet his thrusted pecs. “Deal.” He nods. “And if I win?”

“You can have whatever you want,” I say confident in my Madden skills.

“No. I can’t have what I want,” he says, his eyes burning into me.

“Why?”

“As the great Oscar Wilde once said, there are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.”

“So are you saying that it’d be tragic for you to get what you want?”

“It would be tragic,” he brushes his knuckles against my chin, “for her.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I shift my ass to the edge of the sofa, working the controller with my sweaty hands. Son of a bitch, I think she’s gonna kick my ass. She’s good at defense, putting together plays to get her offense down the field, and she’s sacked the shit out of my QB. At first, it was fun, a sort of challenge. But, damn. I’m struggling to keep my team alive here.

“Oh yeah,” Lurlene bumps me in the shoulder, intercepting the football, “you’re going down,” she says, running in the winning touchdown.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me!” I drop the controller. “Damn!” I shove my fingers through my hair and slump back into the sofa, trying to understand how in the hell I let her win. I look over at the Madden master as she lowers her controller onto the coffee table. Her long auburn hair sways over her slender shoulder. “You’re good,” I admit with admiration.

“Five older brothers will do that to a girl.” She grins. Obviously, and rightfully, pleased with herself.

“Yeah,” I slap my thigh, “Token said you played, but apparently, your big bro forgot to mention your gaming skills. You could’ve warned me, ya know.” I arch a brow, feeling a tad uneasy about our deal ... about obeying her every command.

Hell. I’m the commander, never the one who obeys. Perhaps, she’s forgotten about our little wager.

“You wouldn’t have believed me.” She hefts a shoulder, her long hair divides revealing more of her creamy skin.

“I might have.” I sit forward clasping my hands together. “You’ve given me no reason not to trust you,” I say, knowing that she’s right. I wouldn’t have believed her. I would’ve still gone into the game thinking that I’d win. Man, did she prove me wrong.

“This is true.” She nods. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you.” She tilts her head, studying me. “Can you say the same to me?”

“Yes,” I approximate with some confidence; at least, I think that I can.

“Good,” she stands up, “because, for the next hour, you must follow my every command,” she places her hands on her hips, “and for now, I’d like you to place both of your hands above your head and grip the back of the couch.”

Apparently, she hasn’t forgotten about our little agreement. I stare at her, thinking about the vulnerable position that’d put me in.

Her tiny eyebrow rises. “A deal is a deal.”

“Yes,” I lift my left arm, “it,” I lift my right arm, “is.” I grip the back of the sofa, slip down into the cushion, and relax my legs. I look up, finding her brazen eyes climbing my unguarded body. The blood rushes to the tip of my cock, giving it a quick, hard jolt.

“Perfect,” she says. Voice low and husky, she gives my cock another jump. “Now, I’m going to ask you some questions, and I command you, Zeke Declan to tell me the truth.”

“Oh, shit,” I hiss under my breath, legs tensing as my hard dick shrivels back into its flaccid state. She doesn’t just want my body vulnerable. She wants me completely exposed.

“Remember,” she smiles, walking around the coffee table, “a deal is a deal.” She stops a safe distance away on the other side of the table, standing directly across from me. Her shirt falls off her shoulder, revealing a thin black bra strap. Wonder if she has skimpy black panties on under those tight jeans to match. My fingers grip tighter to the edge of the sofa as my legs ease back open to give my again growing cock some breathing room.

“The day we met at the park,” she says, perusing my unprotected body with watchful eyes, “what was your first impression of me?”

Okay. This one’s easy enough. I rest my head back on the cushion and our eyes meet. “I thought that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever set my eyes on.”

“Really?” Her forehead wrinkles.

“Really,” I say after hearing the doubt in her voice. “Come on. You gotta know how beautiful you are?”

“Right,” she laughs, her cheeks flushing pink, “if you say so.” She takes her shoes off, kicks them to the side and comes back to stand in front of me. “Next question,” she gazes down at me and I smile up at her, trembling on the inside. Where is she going with all of this? “The first night that I met you at JSZ, you were talking to a girl before you came up to me.”

“Missy Mills,” I inform her.

“Did you and
Missy Mills
,” she smirks. “Well, did the two of you, you know?”

I slouch deeper into the sofa, contemplating my answer. Screw it. If she wants the truth, then that’s what she’s going to get. I keep my eyes locked with hers. “Yeah. I fucked her the night before.”

“I see,” she says, then reaches with shaky hands downward, grips the edge of her shirt, and she does something that I never expected. She pulls her shirt off. The top of her lush breasts swell above her lacy black bra. The perfect curves of her hips disappear at the waist of her jeans. I want more of her creamy flesh. I want to see her pelvis, thighs, and the shape of her long slender legs. “Okay,” she says a small smile touching her lips as she tosses her shirt next to her shoes.

Okay?
Holy shit! It hits me. “Wait, let me get this straight,” I pull myself upright in the sofa, “whenever I answer a question, you’re gonna remove an article of clothing. Is that what’s going on here?” Oh, shit! That’s gonna put a huge dent in my resilient efforts not to fuck her.

“Whenever you answer it honestly, yes, that is exactly what I intend to do. On to the next question, have you had any sexual encounters with any other woman besides me since we’ve met?”

Shit! I take a deep breath. She’s fishing, trying to find out or confirm what I might feel for her. Truth is I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m crazy about her. Not that I’ll ever tell her that, and damn, I’ve tried to push her away. I’ve tried to stay clear of her. Maybe if I tell her the truth, maybe that’ll push her over the edge. After all, she’s not going to like my answer. Fuck it. She needs to hear it. She’s the one who wants to play this game anyway. “Yes.”

Her head veers back as disappointment fills her glossy eyes, “When?”

“A few weeks ago,” I say, blowing out a long-winded breath. I hurt her. I know I did. That’s the plan, though, right?

“Hmmm,” she reaches behind her back, unhitches her bra, and soundlessly, it drops to the floor. Her breasts fall into their natural position, round and perky, pink and dusky. Her erect nipples tempt my mouth and, wanting a taste, I lick my bottom lip. My restraint real thin now. “What kind of encounter?”

Fine. Let’s get this over with, then. I swallow hard. “Oral sex,” I say, mouth still ajar as she unsnaps her jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Fuck, my honesty is supposed to shut her down, not make her strip. What’s she doing? What’s she thinking? What does she plan to gain from hearing the truth?

She grips the waist of her jeans and looks at me. “Were you the receiver?”

“I was the ... the,” I stutter a little as she starts to peel her jeans off, “I was the giver.” I finally get out of my salivating mouth. Even with all the questions running through my head, I can’t deny that she’s turning me on. My cock’s solid and pushing hard to get out of my pants. But no matter what it wants, I won’t fuck her. Nope. She may have a small piece of my heart, but I refuse to surrender my cock. It’s the only way that I can keep her safe.

She kicks her jeans to the side, along with her other clothing, and rises, not disappointing me. She stands in nothing but sexy black panties. Her long fingers run up her thigh and rest upon her shapely hip. “But you didn’t fuck her?”

“No.” I shake my head, swallowing hard again, as I take in every inch of her practically naked beauty. “I didn’t fuck her.”

“Why not?”

I lift my eyes from her body to find her beautiful face waiting on my answer. “Because the only woman I want to fuck is you.” Hey, she wants the truth and, shit, that’s the fucking truth.