Protecting Fate (4 page)

Chapter Four

Sara saw the desire on Z’s face, as clear as day. She
knew
she should sit back and start thinking about what the next step was, but she couldn’t stop shaking and the heat coming off his body was the best thing she’d felt all day. So she scooted closer, until they were pressed together from knee to chest, her hand still on his cock. Maybe if he’d just touch her, she’d stop thinking about strangers in her apartment, violating one of her few safe places, touching her things. Her skin crawled at the thought.

So she kept going, needing to purge away the ugliness with something clean. “I think it took everything you had not to touch me back at Serve. To slip your hand between my legs and—”

He kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips as if to put her words to rest. Well, if this was how he went about shutting her up, she was going to run her mouth more often. Sara shifted her grip on his cock, sliding her hand up and down the denim, squeezing until his arms came around her and he shifted her to straddle him. She had the presence of mind to glance over her shoulder at the glass dividing the backseat from the front, but he gripped her hair and brought her mouth back around to him. “He can’t see or hear.”

“Okay.” She wouldn’t really care if he
could
at this point, as long as Z didn’t stop touching her.

He took her mouth again, and she sank into the kiss, losing herself in the feeling of his tongue stroking hers and his big hands palming her ass, urging her to ride him through their clothes. She reached for his belt, needing to follow through on the pressure building in her, demanding release, but he bracketed her wrists behind her with one hand while keeping the other tangled in her hair. “No.” Her breath sobbed out before she could stop it, and Z’s grip only tightened. He kissed down her throat. “You want this?”

“
Yes.
”

“Then relinquish control.”

She was already shaking her head, but she didn’t know if it was in protest or agreement. She arched her back, the position offering up her breasts for him, but his mouth stopped at her sternum. “Give it up, Sara.” His voice had dropped a full octave and sounded more like a growl than a whisper.

She had the sudden hysterical thought that the man between her legs was more dangerous than any out for her blood in NYC. And he wanted her submission. “How long?”

His dark chuckle against her skin sent a line of lightning straight to her core. “Until I’m done with you.”

Who was this man? Because he wasn’t the same one who’d walked away from her in Serve, or even the one who’d thrown her over his shoulder less than half an hour ago. And, damn her to hell and back, she wanted him even more knowing that. He really was the big, bad wolf, and she wanted him to follow through on the promise of his grip on her body and his lips moving against her skin.

But did she want him enough to throw caution to the wind and take what he was offering?

Sara never went into any situation without first ensuring that she’d have the upper hand—especially sex. She definitely wasn’t going to start now, no matter how much she wanted him. “Three.”

“Three?”

“You get me three times. Then it ends.”

Z made that growling sound again. “Fine.” He lifted his head and met her eyes. “Pick a safe word, Sara.”

Holy shit.
She’d wondered if the spanking thing was an indication of darker desires. Apparently the answer was a resounding
yes
. She searched for a safe word. Normally, the few times she played, she stuck with the generic “red.” It didn’t feel right this time, for reasons she refused to examine too closely. Instead, she responded to the borderline feral look in his pale green eyes. “Wolfman.” His slow grin did nothing but reinforce the similarities.

“We’ll talk hard limits later.”

Her head practically spun at how fast this had gone from zero to completely out of control. What was she thinking? She was going to be spending nearly every waking hour with this man for God knew how long. Sleeping with him—
submitting
to him—was the worst idea in a history of some truly terrible ideas.

But she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. “Okay.”

“Put your hands against the glass.” He skirted his now free hand up the inside of her thigh as she obeyed, and slipped a finger beneath her panties. “You’re wet, sweetheart. Warm and wet and welcoming.” He pushed into her, seeming to test her, and she nearly bit through her lip at the feeling of his thick finger inside her. Z let go of her hair and pushed her dress to the side, baring first one breast and then the other. “I like you in pearls.”

“Make me come, and next time the only thing I’ll wear is pearls.”

He stopped the delicious stroking of his finger and glared. “Did I give you permission to speak?” When she opened her mouth, he cut her off before she got an answer out. “The only words I want to hear are ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘No, Sir.’”

It was an effort to swallow. “Yes, Sir.”

“You will not speak unless spoken to.” He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her cry out. “Understand?”

The backseat seemed to have jumped ten degrees hotter. “Yes, Sir.”

“Please me, and I’ll fuck you tonight until you lose track of how many times you come.”

Big words, but she had the slightly horrified thought that he could actually follow through on his threat. It was becoming more and more apparent that she’d bit off more than she could chew with this man.

He pulled her panties to the side, and frowned. Before she could ask what the problem was—which would be a problem in and of itself since she wasn’t supposed to speak—he shoved her dress up her body and over her head to wrap around her forearms. One good rip and her panties were gone, leaving her in only the pearls. Z’s eyes slid half shut as he palmed her breasts. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. But you already knew that.”

His hands slid down her sides, his thumbs playing over each rib, to her hips. “You crave the harsh hand of control, don’t you?” He glanced up, killing her protest before it reached her lips. “I have rules.”

More talking? For a man of few words, he sure had a lot to say once he got going. Even worse, each harsh word stoked her desire higher. She closed her eyes, but they flew open when he pinched her thigh. Z glared. “Pay attention. You will not speak unless I give permission. You will also not come without my say so. Disobey and you will be punished.” He parted her with two fingers, playing with her, circling close enough to brush her clit, but nowhere near close enough to push her over the edge. “If you touch yourself without my presence, you will be punished more severely. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She couldn’t help rolling her hips, trying to guide him inside her.

“Good. Then we can begin.”

…

Z knew this was wrong. He knew he should stop. He also knew he wasn’t going to. That first touch of her lips against his had loosed his beast and there was no going back now. He sat back, still fingering her, and let himself look his fill. In the dark of the backseat, she was little more than a pale shadow, but an exquisite one all the same. He’d allowed her to set the limit of three times, but Z could be a patient predator, and he had no intention of being cut off from her before he’d taken his fill.

A small voice in the back of his head screamed that he was making a mistake from which there was no coming back, that once he had a taste of this, he wouldn’t be able to stand losing it—not again—but he ignored it.

Already, she was unbelievably wet, obeying his every command without question. Power coursed through his body, making him feel as if he’d just downed a bottle of Jack.

It was tempting to undo his pants and replace his fingers with his cock. Too tempting. He took his fingers back, not touching her except where she straddled him. “Let’s see how obedient you can be. Hold this position.”

It was nearly as torturous for him as it had to be for her. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her, more than he’d wanted anything in damn near seven years. It was like waking up from a dream and realizing that he was seated at a banquet in his honor and all he had to do was reach out to be privy to the greatest pleasures known to mankind. But reaching out meant breaking damn near every rule he’d put in place to keep himself in check.

Breaking those rules meant possibly putting Sara’s life in danger.

That
sobered him up—but only a little. His phone ringing brought him even further back. He put a finger to Sara’s lips. “Not a word.” Satisfied she was going to obey, he answered, “Loreto.”

“You got her out okay?”

There was something wrong about talking to Garrett while the man’s little sister was naked and splayed over his lap, but Z couldn’t bring himself to move her. “We’re halfway to the house now.”

“Good. Her apartment looks like someone was trying to prove a point. Nothing taken as far as I can tell, but they did a lot of damage.”

“Hold on.” He put the phone to his shoulder. “You wanted something from your apartment. What?”

She bit her lip, obviously torn between keeping that information to herself and the desire to actually get what she wanted. He waited for her to realize she didn’t have a choice in answering, and the frustration on her face was a delight to behold. “A photo album under my mattress.”

He waited, but there was nothing else forthcoming so he put the phone back to his ear. “Under the mattress there’s a photo album. Your sister wants it.”

“Let me see.” There was grunting and cursing and then Garrett was back. “Sara always was a smart cookie. She cut a hole in the box frame and patched it back up. It’s still here.” She must have heard, because she relaxed, just a bit.

“We’ll need that.”

“Ridley and I’ll bring it. She’s about ready to rip my head off for not telling her that we were shipping Sara out of town, so it’ll make her happy to know we’re not fucking kidnappers.” He muttered something that sounded like ‘again.’

That depended on whom they asked. Sara had made it more than clear that she didn’t want to leave NYC, and was only doing so under protest. He’d thought this job would be drudgery of the highest order, but it was shaping up to be more trouble than he could have anticipated—and all of it originated with the woman in his lap. She was a temptation he’d never expected and couldn’t resist. “Good. Update me if you find anything else.”

“Will do.” Garrett hesitated. “Z, take care of her, man. She’s my baby sister.”

The reminder was like cold water thrown in his face. What the fuck was he doing, playing with Sara Reaver? He owed Garrett his life several times over, and he couldn’t even keep his hands off the man’s sister twelve hours after meeting her. He was exactly what his ex-wife, Jennifer, had accused him of being—a disgusting monster. He cleared his throat. “I will.”

Sara watched him from her bent back position, her eyes catching the occasional headlight from the cars behind them. She was so damn beautiful, he almost threw caution to the wind for the second fucking time, but Garrett’s voice in his head was too much. Z pulled her dress back down, clenching his teeth to resist kissing her breasts, and covered her. Then he lifted her into the seat next to him and crossed his arms over his chest.

He could actually feel her questions in the silence between them, her demands to know what the hell was wrong with him, even though she didn’t say a word. “Give me your phone.” He waited for her to obey, and then quickly popped out the battery and SIM card. Then he passed back a prepaid that he’d bought earlier that day. “I doubt they’ll bother to track it, but we can’t risk it. My number is programmed in the contacts.”

She slipped it into her purse and turned to stare out the window. The minutes passed, ticking up to half an hour and then a full hour, and still she didn’t say a word.

It was only when he looked over and found her asleep that he realized what she’d been doing. Obeying. The thought left him cold. How the fuck was he supposed to keep control of himself when she was so damn tempting and
obedient?

Z slouched back against his seat and cursed long and low. It was going to be a hell of a long mission.

Chapter Five

Sara woke up as the car pulled to a stop. Her body still ached with unresolved pleasure, and combined with the short nap, it did nothing for her mood. She rubbed her hands over her arms, all too aware that she’d stupidly skipped a coat, since she hadn’t planned on being outside much. Apparently Z didn’t believe in turning on the heat—unless it was the sexual heat.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the driveway, determined to put him out of her mind despite his proximity. She had been guilty of running hot and cold in the past, but that man was in a completely different league. How the hell did he go from barely exchanging two words to her, to über Dom, and then back to treating her like she’d just crawled into his lap and tried to fuck him against his will?

Really, she should thank him for stopping before something happened that they couldn’t take back. Her life was complicated enough without adding a man who affected her on a level unlike anyone in the past. Even now, she could feel his gaze on the back of her neck, hotter than fire and twice as dangerous.

She moved toward the house, only to be stopped by a hand on her arm. It was aggravating as all get out that she already knew who was touching her without looking back. She opened her mouth to tell him to keep his hands to himself, but the words wouldn’t come. Sara cursed herself for following an order when she had no intention of submitting to him.

But she still couldn’t make herself speak.

“Let Joe check it.”

A small, dark man slipped out of the driver’s door, very pointedly not looking at her, and disappeared through the front door. Sara jerked away from Z while they waited, gripping her own wrist hard enough to hurt, until she was able to force out, “Don’t touch me again.”

She turned to find him watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ll do my best.”

Was that supposed to be comforting? It didn’t help that she wasn’t sure what answer she was looking for. She didn’t make a habit of being indecisive, but this man seemed to bring it out in her. One second she was deciding to seduce him, the next she was submitting, the next she didn’t want him to touch her at all. It was enough to give her whiplash. She still wasn’t sure if she should smack her brother or thank him for inadvertently putting a stop to her and Z’s hookup in the backseat.

Maybe she’d do both.

Joe appeared in the front door and nodded. That was all Z needed to usher her into the house, his hand brushing the small of her back. She shot him a dark look that he returned with interest, reminding her again that this wasn’t a man she could intimidate or manipulate.

That was fine. She liked a challenge. The only question was what outcome she wanted—for him to stay away from her, or lose control like he had earlier? Sara sighed. She’d figure it out later. Right now she wanted a bed and eight hours of sleep. Things would look different in the morning—less confusing, less dangerous.

Tomorrow, she’d get her photo album back and come up with some sort of plan.

“Where’s my room?” She eyeballed the massive foyer. Had Uncle Rodger rented her a damn B and B? In the driveway, she’d been paying more attention to Z than the house, but being inside it made her think she’d missed a whole hell of a lot. The curving staircase led upward, looking like something Scarlett O’Hara would be comfortable on, and she could see a sitting room through one of the arched openings on the ground floor.

“Pick one in the west wing.”

Apparently her uncle felt horrible about exiling her, because there was no other explanation for this place. She’d fully expected to be dropped off at some little one-room cabin with no Internet or hot water, and instead she got a house with
wings.
“I’m not exactly a Boy Scout, so am I going left or right at the top of the stairs?”

She thought she heard Z sigh. “Left.”

“Great. Thanks.” She forced herself to climb the stairs slowly instead of taking them two at a time, because she didn’t want him to think she was running from him—even if that’s exactly what it felt like. It was only when she was out of sight that she released the pent up breath she’d been holding.
Four hours down. God knows how many to go
. At least in a house this size, she could avoid him, if she ended up deciding that was what she wanted.

Sara peeked into rooms as she passed, each seeming to be their own suite, and finally settled on one halfway down the hall. It was green and generic enough to be for either a man or a woman, but what drew her were the huge windows dominating the wall across from the door. She flipped on the light and crossed to look out, and laughed.

“Yeah, Uncle Rodger is definitely trying to apologize.” The house was U-shaped, and in the empty space between the wings, there was a pool encased in a glass greenhouse looking building. She loved swimming—had since she was a kid—and she’d just been bitching to him a few weeks ago about how all the hours she was putting in were making it impossible to make time for her laps. She grinned. Guess he’d been listening.

A light came on almost directly across from her, and her grin widened as she saw Z prowling around the room. He stopped in the window, and she could almost feel his glare as he faced her. Sara shook her head and closed the curtains. Let him stew a bit longer.

She stopped in front of the bed. She was exhausted, but the siren call of the pool was too much to resist. “A few laps and then I’ll be tired enough to sleep.” Simple. Right.

As if anything in her life was simple anymore.

…

Z’s phone rang while he was still glaring at the closed curtains of Sara’s room. She’d shut him out, which was no more than he deserved. But he resented the barrier between them all the same. With a curse, he answered his phone. “Loreto.”

“Z?”

His entire body jumped to attention at Sara’s husky voice on the other end. “Yeah.”

“I have a question.”

He primed himself to tell her that no, they couldn’t fuck until they forgot both their names, because it was a shitty idea—and out of respect for her brother. He was so focused on composing his answer, he missed the question. “Say again?”

“That Joe guy. Where is he now?”

“Watching the road. My other guy, Logan, is covering the back half of the property.”

“So no one close?”

Why the fuck was she asking this? “Just me. But there’s no reason to worry—we’ll know about any threat long before it gets close enough to actually be a problem.”

“Sure.” She hung up, leaving him staring out his window and wondering what the fuck just happened. He was in the process of dialing her back when movement below caught his eye. Sara stepped out into the lit pool area and pulled her dress off in a smooth move. Z’s mouth went dry as she stretched her arms over her head, leaving the long line of her body bare for him. She ran her hands through her hair and tied it back into a tail, each movement seductive in its normalcy.

As normal as she could be, standing naked in the middle of a lit fucking pool area at nighttime where anyone could see her.

She dove into the pool, disappearing beneath the surface. Z stood there and stared as she cut through the water in sure strokes, working her way to the edge and turning to swim back the other way. He shook his head, the spell she’d created broken. He should stay where he was. She was as safe as she could possibly be on the property, so there was no reason for him to go down to the pool, except for wanting a closer look. That was inexcusable.

But it didn’t stop him from tucking his phone into his pocket and making his way down the back staircase to the door leading into the pool. She was already on another go-round by the time he stepped into the humid space, appearing to take no notice of his presence. It shouldn’t annoy him…but it did.

He sat on one of the lounge chairs near the steps out of the shallow end and waited. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the soothing sound of each stroke lulling him despite himself. Time seemed to stand still as she swam lap after lap, jarring back into motion when Sara stopped on the other side of the pool, watching him with eyes the same color as the water. “You take this protection detail awful seriously.”

“You’re Garrett’s sister.” He said that to remind himself as much as her.

“I am.” She moved closer, the water shielding her body from him and yet offering tantalizing peeks at the same time. “But I was his sister in the back of that town car, and that didn’t stop you.”

“It was a mistake.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees.

She reached a shallow enough depth to stand, stopping when the upper curve of her breasts showed. One small movement and he’d be able to see her nipples. He should look away. Should go back up to his room and lie on top of the bed and remember all the reasons why losing control risked ruining his life a second time.

But he didn’t.

“What are you so afraid of? Garrett might be overprotective to the point of idiocy, but he knows better than to poke into my sex life.”

“He’s my friend.”

“And?”

And Z had lost it all once before, hit rock bottom hard enough to drive away everyone and everything he cared about. He’d clawed his way out of the pit, one inch at a time, and carved out a life that he could be proud of. He’d be a fool of the worst sort to go through it all again, even for a woman like Sara. “I won’t betray that.”

“I’m not asking for you to put a ring on it and make an honest woman of me.” As she spoke, she moved slowly toward him, coming out of the water like a modern day Aphrodite, revealing her breasts, her stomach, and finally the sweet spot between her thighs. “I just want you to relieve my boredom.” She held up three fingers, as if he could focus on any point but where the water lapped at her pussy. “Just three little times.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“I was pissed.” She shrugged. “I don’t like rejection any more than the next person.” She reached the steps and walked out of the water. “Please, Z. Play with me.” She went to her knees. “Command me.” And then to all fours. “Fuck me.”

All the blood drained out of his head and rushed straight to his cock as she crawled toward him, her body one sinuous motion after another that seemed to somehow indicate the hottest of fucking, until she knelt between his thighs. He white-knuckled the chair arms as she started at his knees and stroked up this thighs, stopping just short of his cock. “Please.”

If he said yes, it would take less than a heartbeat to take control. She’d welcome it—he could read that truth all over her face. He thought back to the car, to how sweetly she’d submitted, to how unbelievably hot it’d made him. If he agreed, he could have that again. He could take it all the way to its natural conclusion and take her any way he damn well pleased.

But she was Garrett’s baby sister.

“No.” Z lunged to his feet, knocking her onto her ass. Even though every instinct he had demanded he make sure she was okay, he forced himself to turn and stride away from her. If there was one woman on this earth off limits, it was Little Sara Reaver.

And she was the one woman he wanted more than his next breath.