Chapter 53

ZEKE

We don’t say a word the entire way back to the condo.

I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stop once I start. I might even end up driving us off the road, and then where would we be? Anything I have to say can wait until we’re alone.

Which means my rage only has time to grow bigger. Hotter. More intense. Who the fuck does she think she is, telling me what to do or who I can fight? She doesn’t make my choices for me. And she sure as fuck doesn’t do it while we’re in front of people. Why not cut off my balls and carry them in her purse?

Judging by the way she sits with her arms folded, staring out the window, I’m guessing she feels the same way. I’ve never seen her furious enough to shut her up. It’s like we’ve reached a new level of how far we can push each other.

We walk silently from the car to the elevator and take the ride up just as silently. I can feel her seething, the energy radiating from her. Something is going to explode.

And it does once we’re inside with the door locked. Rather than set the alarm straight away, I choose instead to shove her up against the door. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I growl, leaning down close to her face. “Telling me what to do. Bossing me around. I’m not some bitch you can control.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she growls back. Her chest is heaving, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. “The big, bad man. Like a fucking animal without enough common sense to avoid getting in a public fight. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not drawing more attention. Right?”

“Of course. That’s all you fucking care about. The attention. How it would make you look.”

“You don’t have the first fucking clue what I care about.” She swallows hard, her eyes darting to my mouth and back again. “Did you ever think maybe it was hard for me to see you about to fight over me? Do you know how shitty that made me feel?”

“So I was supposed to take it?” I lean in closer, so close our bodies touch. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take before I have no choice but to rip her clothes off. “Let him goad me into a fight and pretend it didn’t matter?

News flash: that’s not how I operate.”

“Because you’re the big, bad alpha. Right?” She manages to find room to slide her hands between us and then pushes against my chest. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

“I don’t do things to impress you.” She gasps when I take her by the throat, tipping her head back. Her beautiful eyes shine with a wild light. “As for the big, bad alpha, I think we both know it doesn’t take much to control you.”

“Get your hand off me.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. I’m not squeezing, only holding her firm enough that she can’t get away. When I do apply a bit of pressure, though, her eyes widen further.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to touch you.” With my other hand, I skim her body, taking in the fullness of her hip and her tits. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to be fucked.”

All it takes is the slightest upward tick of the corners of her mouth. She wants this. She wants me.

I spin her in place so fast she barely has time to make a sound. With one quick, violent tug, I pull her jeans down around her knees. Panties, too. “You like it like this?” I whisper next to her ear, pinning her in place with my body while I pull out my cock. It’s aching, dripping, ready for her.

“Just do it,” she pants. “Just fuck me. Now.” And when I do, when I drive myself into her, she gasps.

“You want your little boyfriend to do this to you?” I ask, fucking her hard. Merciless. Punishing her. When she doesn’t answer right away, I slap her ass cheek hard enough that my hand stings. “Huh? You think he could do

this? You think he could fuck you this way?” “Just you,” she whispers.

“That’s fucking right,” I growl, pulling her head back when I take a handful of her hair. “Just me. He wants to do this to you. He wants to fuck you like this and make you scream the way I do.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She cranes her neck, looking me in the eye. “I just want you to fuck me.”

And I do, my hips sawing back and forth, my cock plunging in and out. She grunts like an animal every time our bodies meet, her ass jiggling when I slap against it. I look down, transfixed, watching my cock disappear inside her again, again, and every time it does, she lets out a squeal. Her first orgasm comes quick, her hands pressed against the door, fingers curling while her already tight cunt grips me like a vise. I have to slow down, or else she’ll take me with her. And I’m not finished yet.

She slumps a little when I withdraw, leaning against the door for support. I kick off my jeans, then take her in my arms, carrying her to the island between the living room and kitchen and placing her on one of the stools, facing me.

If she’s going to use those nails of hers on something, I want it to be on my back. Not the door.

“Say it again,” I grunt, entering her. “Who do you want fucking you?”

“You,” she sobs, dragging her nails over my shoulders, my back, while I take her hard. Unforgiving. The deep, driving need to break her, to win, sweeps everything else out of the way. She needs to know who’s in control. Who calls the shots.

When she breaks the skin, I suck in a pained breath— but if anything, it only heightens the sensation, pushing me closer to release. “You want to hurt me?” I grunt before slamming into her again. “Do you want to leave your mark on me?” She responds by raking me again, then driving her nails into my ass cheeks and pulling me deeper.

I’m completely lost in sensation. Lost in her. In the unimaginable feeling of being inside her, using her body, letting her use mine.

“Come inside me,” she whines as her tunnel tightens, squeezing me again. “Come in me. Please.”

That’s all it takes. My thrusts lose their rhythm, my hips pumping frantically. She closes her eyes, her head dropping back, and I run my teeth over her neck when the edge comes rushing up to meet me. To meet both of us. She screams loud enough to make my ears ring, but I hardly notice, too busy filling her with cum.

When it’s over, when I pull out, I look down to see our mixed fluids dripping out of her with every spasm of her muscles. I’m almost transfixed by it before stepping back, grabbing something to clean her up with. I’ve never let myself get carried away like that.

But she seems happy when I rejoin her. “I’ve been on the pill for more than a year,” she informs me. “Mail-order prescription. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

Good to know now that I shot my load. “Does your father know?” I ask as I wipe her clean. Not exactly who I want to be thinking of right now, but I didn’t bring it up.

“Do you think it would be a surprise to you if he did?” Good point. We piece ourselves back together, the tension now gone, though there are still too many unanswered questions to count. I grab us both some water while she recovers, sitting on the stool again and leaning against the counter like she’s wiped out. I can’t pretend it doesn’t make me the slightest bit proud, being the reason for it.

Still, I can’t let it go. It will eat at me like an ulcer unless I say something. “You still haven’t told me why you broke up the fight. Not really.”

She rolls her eyes more dramatically than I think I’ve ever seen. “Why are you stuck on this?”

“Because it struck me as strange. I can’t help it. I need to know.”

“There’s nothing to know. Why can’t you get that? Why do you keep having to try to turn this into something it isn’t?”

I don’t know. That’s the thing. There she is, barely recovered from the punishment I gave her, hair mussed, and her makeup smeared thanks to me. We’ve been as physically close as two people can be, yet it’s still hard to open up. I wonder if it will ever be easy. Probably not.

Eventually, she realizes she’s not getting away with avoiding the question. “Because it wouldn’t have been fair. You’re much bigger and stronger than he is. You would have kicked his ass and humiliated him and only pissed him off more. And you could have gotten in trouble for it.”

Her concern for him sickens me. “You think I care about his ass getting kicked? Trust me. Once I kick a guy’s ass, it stays that way.”

“That’s very cute,” she informs me with a smirk. “But that’s not how life actually works. I would still have to face him in class, and we have our presentation coming up. How uncomfortable would that have been? Do you think he would have been able to deliver his part of the presentation while you were sitting there in the back of the room? The guy who kicked his ass in front of his friends?”

Sometimes, it’s like I’ve never really looked at her before. There’s so much more than meets the eye. “Are you saying you stopped us from fighting because it would’ve affected your grade?”

“No! I was thinking about how it would make him feel. And yeah, it would make me feel like shit, too. Guilty. Jittery.” She lowers her brow, and I swear I’m looking at her father right now. In some ways, they are too much alike. “And you’re conveniently ignoring the part where I

said I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Who says I would?”

“You mean to tell me he wouldn’t go straight to the cops? There were witnesses. And with a record like yours…”

It’s not easy hearing that without laughing. That’s what she’s worried about? “Who says I have a record?”

She can’t hide her surprise. “You don’t?”

“I never took a collar.”

“How is that even possible?”

“What the hell do you think I do for your father?” Her eyes drop to the countertop, which is all the answer I need. “If I got caught doing that, I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now. Would I?”

“But have you?”

I lift my chin, staring at her. Daring her to say it. “Have I done what?”

“Have you killed anybody? There. I said it. Happy?”

“Thrilled. Thanks so much.”

“Well?” I know better than to think she’s ever going to let this go. It was bound to come up eventually. She must’ve asked herself before now if I’ve ever gone that far.

That’s why I’m honest. No sense in lying. “Yes. I have. I have killed people.”

She gulps but takes it well. “To keep him safe?”

I nod, though it’s not as simple as that. “In his line of work, he makes a lot of enemies. And plenty of greedy people would do anything to get what he has. They don’t want to put the work in, though. They want to take it from him. And sometimes, they won’t listen to reason. It really is that simple.”

“Simple? There’s nothing simple about it.” She wraps her arms around herself. “You’re talking about taking people’s lives.”

“What would you rather have me do? Stand back and let them take his? Or yours?”

“Mine?” Her arms tighten, and now she’s trembling. I shouldn’t have said it. She asked, and she needs to know this isn’t a game, but I hate seeing her like this.

“Why do you think I’m here with you? I’m not saying there’s ever been a threat on your life. For the most part, he’s kept things quiet when it comes to you. His friends know, his associates, but that’s about it. And that’s deliberate. That’s why he didn’t have you change your name to Morelli when he brought you in. That’s for your safety. Do you understand?”

“So he isn’t being overly paranoid.”

“I’m afraid not. I wish it was as simple as that, I do.” “So do I.” She tries to laugh, but the effort falls flat. Maybe somebody who doesn’t know her as well as I do now would buy it. “This is a lot to swallow all at once.”

“I know it is. And I’m sorry you have to hear it like this, I really am. But it’s better that you know.”

She nods, eyes downcast, and I have to wonder if something didn’t just get lost. I would think she’d feel more confident than ever, knowing the man protecting her will do whatever needs to be done should her life ever be in danger.

I hope the time never comes that I have to prove it.

To lighten the mood, I ask, “So you weren’t just a little bit worried about me out there? That I would get hurt?”

She giggles, and I can’t pretend it isn’t gratifying. “Right. Like he could do anything to you.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I hate to say it, but he’s bulked up a little bit this semester. There’s more muscle on him than there was back when classes started.”

“Is there?” She shrugs. “I didn’t notice.” It looks and sounds like she’s telling the truth, too. I wish he was here so he’d know for sure he doesn’t have a chance with her.

Nobody could do to her what I do.

And nobody could protect her the way I can.

As I walk to the bathroom, I can’t help but remember that note, the only one left in front of the door. You Can’t Protect Her. The memory leaves a sour taste in my mouth, even with Mia following and leaving a trail of clothing in her wake.

As much as I believe I can—as much as I have to, with every fiber of my being—I can’t help but hope as she steps into the shower along with me that I never have to prove it. Because that would mean her life was in danger.

And I don’t know anymore how I could live if that was ever the case.