Crash for Me (The Blankenships Book 7) (7 page)

CHAPTER NINE

There were showers afterward, the three of them piling into the relatively small bathroom next to the guest rooms. There were gentle explorations, massaging spots that had gotten sore, and both Leo and Alex made much fuss over the red marks and bruises on Zoey’s legs, thighs, and tits. Zoey’s eyes were half shut as she braided her curls so they wouldn’t tangle while she slept, and Alex found himself tucking both Zoey and Leo into the big bed they’d already mussed. Leo gave him a long, careful look before he nodded and said, “Thank you.”

Zoey fell asleep within moments. Alex was still lying in bed, propped up on his elbow, stroking the loose tendrils of her hair gently back from her face. Leo watched him for a while, too, eventually taking Alex’s hand in his, kissing the inside of Alex’s wrist, and then he, too, fell asleep.

The penthouse was as silent as it ever got, and it grated against Alex’s soul. He’d never been one to collapse into sleep after sex, but this was something entirely other. He felt energized, awakened—and also painfully aware of everything that was happening. He closed his eyes and tried every visualization technique his therapist had ever taught him, but he couldn’t stop the circling, spiraling thoughts in his brain.

After a while, he slipped out of the bed. He had come into the bedroom still wearing his trousers from the earlier part of the day; now, he padded naked through the apartment to grab a pair of loose jersey lounging pants before going to the kitchen. Sophia tended to keep a pitcher of cold brew in the fridge, and he found he had no interest in sleeping tonight. Might as well caffeinate, to counteract the lingering effects of the alcohol in his system.

He went to his office, and pulled out the old man’s laptop. He’d tried to leave the office with it tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk, but something kept pulling him back. It wasn’t easy to explain what the problem was. There was no proof that anything was still going on. It was possible—likely, even—that Olivia had been the mastermind behind this whole debacle. In fact, the cops were probably right. She’d probably killed herself out of guilt, after her own daughter was caught in the crossfire.

He knew it, he believed it, but he couldn’t get around the fact that today, a mere day after her death, IT had been able to do what they’d previously sworn was impossible, and crack the encryption that had been keeping him, and them, out of Philip Blankenship’s precious laptop computer.

So he’d tucked it under his arm and walked out of the office with it. He’d felt guilty the whole way. He’d prepared a speech, things he’d never dreamed of saying, about how this was his company, and the laptop therefore belonged to him, all the entitled bullshit he’d always sworn he’d never say. But if it got him out the door—only no one stopped him. No one even noticed.

It was somewhat anticlimactic.

He booted up the laptop and opened the email program. He was vaguely surprised to see that the password still worked. He’d been cautiously expecting to see it, once again, refusing to open. But no, the little swirling cursor appeared, and a moment later, the email opened.

He scrolled through the different messages again, looking for something that would wrap everything up in a neat little bow, tell him whether or not it was okay to sleep, or if he needed to continue to search for a solution. He needed to know what would come next.

He almost missed the gentle tap on his office door. He’d closed it out of habit when he’d come into the room. He looked up belatedly, ready to answer, sure it was Sophia woken from her typically light sleep by the sound of someone moving around in the penthouse—but by the time he opened his mouth, the door had opened, just a little bit, and Zoey was peeking through the crack, her eyes blinking sleepily. “Hey,” she said. “Sorry. Everything okay?”

“Yes,” he said, pushing back from the desk. He thought, for just a moment, about pulling the screen down and shutting it off—what was he really going to find there that was going to change anything—but he left it alone. He didn’t want Zoey to think, even for a moment, that he was trying to hide this from her. “I couldn’t sleep.”

It seemed a woefully insufficient statement. He couldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t sleep, he was far too afraid to sleep. It sounded ridiculous—he felt like a child even thinking it—but he also didn’t know how else to describe the concern that tore through him.

He opened his arms, and Zoey slipped into the circle of his arms with ease. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he said, resting his forehead against her shoulder.

“No problem,” she said, her own temple resting on the top of his head. “I was just worried and wanted to check on you myself.”

“What had you worried, baby?”

She shrugged, and he tightened his arms around her just a little more. “That was a lot that just happened. With Leo? And I know you guys have done stuff along that line before, but I just—want to make sure. That you’re okay.”

It took a small amount of effort not to start laughing. “Yes, it’s fine. It’s—are you okay? Did it go too far?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I enjoyed myself.” He imagined that he could feel the heat of her blush even though his scalp. “I very much enjoyed myself.”

“Good,” he said. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“How long is this going to last?” Her voice was calm and cool for a person asking such a volatile question. He went very still for a moment, and then forced himself to breathe and run his hand up and down her spine in a gesture meant to be comforting.

“How long do you want it to last?” He asked. He tried to make his voice sound calm, collected, but he was fairly sure she would hear all the emotion that had ever been there.

“Is it too soon to say forever?”

His breath came out in a whoosh. “God, I hope not,” he said. “I can’t promise you forever, Zoey, not with everything that’s happening around us, but—I want to promise you forever. I don’t want you to go. Is that enough for now?”

“Yes,” she said, her breath rushing out and back in. “Very much, yes.” She turned to him, and they crashed together. He caught her face in his hands, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing them close. She was turned sideways in his lap, but she managed to stand and face him, straddling him, and then sit back down, her hips facing his. His cock was slow and sleepy beneath the v of her thighs, but that was okay. This was about passion, he realized in a lazy moment, not sex. Related, but not the same. Not even close. Her mouth moved over his languidly, promising passion and excitement—but later. Now, now was about building upon what was between them, on the sense of trust and caring and faith that had allowed the two of them to share something so intimate and delicious without question or fear.

He slid one hand up under the thin cotton T-shirt she must have gotten out of the drawers in Leo’s room and cupped the weight of her breast in his palm. She sighed against his mouth as his thumb grazed lightly over her nipple, making faint circles, and he took the opportunity to nibble on her lower lip.

It wouldn’t come to anything, Alex told himself. They were both too tired, too sated, for him to push the laptop out of the way and lift her up onto the desk. It had been amazing, though, when he’d done that, in his office, that first time. It had been amazing. His cock twitched harder, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could fuck her one more time tonight. If maybe, somehow, that one more release would be enough to put his demons to bed for the night.

“I love you,” she whispered, her fingers scratching up his neck and tracing through his short cropped hair. “You’re delicious. You’re wonderful.”

He leaned lower, licking up her neck. She shivered, her entire body languid and loose against him. He cursed the sweat pants she wore. He didn’t want to finger her, particularly, but he wanted to feel the outline of her body over his, feel her grind down onto him the way she did when she wanted to drive him crazy. He kept teasing at her nipple with one hand, the other reaching around to brace her back as he leaned over her. She gave a wispy sort of sigh and went with the motion, letting him dip her as if she were a debutante.

“You light me on fire, over and over,” she murmured, then let out an airy little gasp as his tongue found a sensitive spot at the base of her throat. “How do you do that? I should want to push you away and tell you to go to bed, I’m tired. I am tired, I’m sore, but oh my god, I still want you, all over again.”

Her words tore into him in the most delicious way, and he cupped her ass in his hands, lifting her up as he stood and balanced her on the edge of the desk. She spread her thighs wide, and he fit between them neatly, her legs hooking around his hips. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything, Zoey, anything in the world.”

“I want you,” she whispered, catching his face and meeting his dark eyes with hers. “I want you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

His cock was heavy and tingling in his sweats, but the kiss he gave her was light and easy. His lips were closed, and his hand was light on her chin, giving her just the slightest pressure to turn her head and fit his mouth to hers. She sighed after a moment, wrapping her arms around his neck and nipping at his lower lip.

“Remember how it was, that first time?”

“At your office, on your desk?” She flushed. “I remember panicking. I was so humiliated.”

He shook his head gently, pulling back enough that he could meet her eyes. “I understand. I’m not upset about what happened.”

She laughed. “That makes one of us.”

“It got us here.”

“I just wish there hadn’t been so much pain between here and there.”

His heart twisted into a small knot, and he tried not to shout at the pain of it. “I wish the same thing,” he said. “But there’s no going back now. And at least I have you.”

“Do you think it’s done? Do you really think it’s done?”

He couldn’t keep his gaze from the laptop, and the mood faded fast. He thought of half a dozen responses, but she wasn’t going to believe any of them. The truth, then. “I don’t know, Zoey. I wish I could say yes, it’s all behind us, but what scares me the most is the idea that we still don’t know all of it.”

Her legs loosened from around his hips, and his dick fussed at the loss of heat and pressure. He adjusted himself as discreetly as he could and sat while she turned the laptop so she could see the screen. “What is this?”

It was funny; there was a time in his life when the shift in moment would have frustrated him. Not towards the woman in question, obviously, but just towards the general moment. But with Zoey—there was so much quiet faith that the moment would come again later that it didn’t bother him. Of course, having been thoroughly fucked by the two people closest to him didn’t hurt. It was hard to be even frustrated when you were idly considering whether or not you even had another orgasm left before you slept.

“My father’s laptop,” he said, trying not to choke on the words. “IT finally got past whatever had been shifting the password.”

Her eyes were bright and interested as she glanced at him. “The day after your mother died?”

He nodded. “I made the same connection.”

“May I?”

He gestured towards the computer, and Zoey turned it towards her more, her ankles crossing and her feet swinging like a little girl’s as she focused in on the laptop’s screen. Given that her nipples were still pebbled and making a distinct impression on the thin T-shirt, he had to smile at the image. His brain put her in a pair of wire rimmed glasses that she would adjust every so often, a long pencil skirt, a fitted blouse—the classic stereotypical librarian. That was a fantasy he’d have to indulge later. Right now, the reality of how smart she was, how quickly she made connections, was twisting him up. He loved that she didn’t try to hide any of that from him. She was who she was, and she didn’t apologize for it. It was one of the sexiest things about her.

She was so tuned in to the screen in front of her as she scrolled through the emails that she was completely unaware of him. His dick was back to demanding attention, and he left his hand in his lap, idly stroking the length of his cock as she muttered quiet commentary at the emails. “Jesus, Alex,” she said, glancing up after a particularly telling email to Zhu and Tanaka. It took her a moment to catch the motion of his hand, and then she laughed and kicked him in the shin. With her bare toes, it didn’t hurt, but he stopped and stuck his tongue out at her. “Horndog. Are you sure these haven’t been doctored?”