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Authors: Katee Robert

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BOOK: Protecting Fate
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Her laugh was strangled. “Thank you, Sir.”

He moved up to suck her clit into his mouth, working her for a few seconds before he reluctantly sat back. As much as he wanted to spend more time with his mouth on her, he had something else in mind. He pinned her hips down with his hands, using his thumbs to stroke her pussy, following the same wandering path his tongue had just taken. “There’s something I want to know.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“You have no problem taking what you want.” He circled her clit once, twice, before moving away. Her chest heaved with each breath, and her hips would have been rising to meet him if he wasn’t holding them in place. “But there’s something you’ve never done that you always wanted to.”

“What makes you…think that…?” She moaned, letting her body fully rest on the counter and touching her breasts. “Sir?”

“Stop that. Hands behind your neck.” He waited for her to obey before he started stroking her again. “Because I’m beginning to know you, sweetheart. You’ve kept something back—you always do. Tell me.” He pushed a finger into her, but withdrew it before she could truly enjoy the penetration. “Tell me, or you won’t come today.”

Her eyes flew open. “You wouldn’t.”

“Are you willing to call my bluff and find out?” He wouldn’t enjoy doing it…much…but he sure as fuck wasn’t bluffing. “Tell me.”

“People watching.” She gasped it out. “I got off on knowing you could see me, but couldn’t touch. I want to be fucked where people can do the same.”

He paused. “You’re a regular at Serve.”

“No, I’m not. I slip in there when there’s no chance of the trauma of seeing my brothers in compromising positions.”

He could see why she wouldn’t have gone for a true extrovert scene. Even hedging her bets with the twins being occupied elsewhere, there was still a chance they could show up. Well, that was a worry he could remove for the time being.

He stood and undid his pants, freeing his cock. “You want me to fuck you where anyone can see.” He grabbed one of the condoms from the cargo pocket and put it on while she watched. “They’ll see this pretty pussy.” He jerked her even further off the edge of the counter and shoved into her. “They’ll be so fucking jealous of my cock, they’ll lose their damn minds.” He kept going, the force of his thrusts making her breasts bounce. The sight of his dark cock disappearing into her made him wild, desperate for more, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what the
more
was he wanted. “They can’t have it, Sara. They can’t have
you
. You’re mine.”

She arched off the counter as she came, her cry loud enough that it was a wonder the windows didn’t shake. He drew her to him, kissing her as he finished, emptying himself inside her. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered,
This is two
. Even as sure as he wanted to be of Sara, there was still the question of if she’d go past her limit of three times.

Because he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her go.

Chapter Twelve

Once they could walk again, Z dragged Sara upstairs for a shower. She half-expected him to take her again in the big walk-in that was half the size of her apartment, but he merely kissed her and then set about washing himself off. She liked that, liked that he didn’t feel the need to be all over her or, God forbid, washing her hair. Plus, with him across the space, she got plenty of opportunity to eye-fuck the hell out of him. “You, Sir, are gorgeous.”

His dark laugh was the only answer she got. All too soon, it was over and he was wrapping her in a fluffy white towel. She sat on the bed and watched him get dressed, wondering at the scars that peppered his body. One on his lower side was clearly a bullet wound—Garrett had a similar one on his shoulder—but the others were harder to pinpoint.

“Ask.”

She jumped. “It’s nothing.”

“Sara, you’re entitled to questions.”

She had half a million when it came to Z. He was an enigma at best, one she’d come to know biblically, but their conversations had only offered glimpses of the man behind the Dom. Wanting that sort of thing wasn’t normally something she suffered from—she might be twice as curious as a cat, but not about the men she slept with. He was different, though.
This
was different.

And if she thought about that too hard, it was going to scare the shit out of her. She fully intended to ask about his scars, but when she opened her mouth, that wasn’t what came out. “Why don’t you date?”

His eyebrows shot up. “
What?

“I know men are different from women, but Garrett said you never date. Ever. I’d like to know why.”

He hesitated, and she had the sudden thought that he was considering lying to her. It stung a lot more than it should have, but she folded her hands and waited. If he lied, then there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. It would be a betrayal of the trust he seemed to value so highly, but she wasn’t going to condemn him for
thinking
about lying.

God, she hoped he told the truth.

Finally, he crossed to sit on the bed next to her, but far enough away that he clearly didn’t want to be touched. She resented that distance between them, even as she called herself a fool for doing so. “You know I value control. The first time I’ve lost it in seven years is because of you.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?

He still wouldn’t look at her. “I got married while I was in the Army. I was young and stupid and thought putting a ring on her finger really meant for better or worse. But there was part of me I never really let go with her and she could tell. We used to fight.” He sighed. “Fuck, we fought like you wouldn’t believe. So two years in, I finally let that part of myself off the leash.”

He spoke so calmly, with each word carefully set between them as if something would shatter if he let any emotion in. It broke her heart. “You mean kinky stuff.” Like what they’d been doing since they met. Really, compared to some of the Doms she knew, Z hadn’t gotten even
close
to crossing any lines with his pain play. Hell, all he’d done was spank her. Her body warmed at the thought, and she silently told it to pipe the fuck down. Now wasn’t the time to get all hot and bothered.

“Yeah. We talked beforehand. She said she was good with it. Even during, I kept checking on her and she was
fine
.” His voice rose, and he forced it back down. “I went to work the next morning, still thinking everything was okay—right up until the base cops showed up.”

She blinked, sure she’d heard him wrong, but he didn’t correct himself. “
Cops?

He kept going like he hadn’t heard her. “I lost everything. She filed a restraining order and left me. I was dishonorably discharged. Hell, the only reason I didn’t see jail time was because my lawyer was a goddamn pit bull.”

She couldn’t just sit there and pretend like the memories weren’t hurting both of them. What kind of woman did that to a man she’d married? Safe words were there for a reason—they were sacred within the BDSM community, and she’d already seen how perceptive Z was. He wouldn’t have kept going if his wife was in distress, even if she’d been too stubborn or stupid to safe out. Sara crawled to him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his back. “I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part was how my friends turned on me. Suddenly I was a wife beater and a piece of shit.” He shook a little, and her heart cracked open even further. She hugged him tighter, not sure if he noticed at all.

“No one knows.”

She lifted her head. “What?”

“No one. Not my team, not your brother, no one. Except now you.” He shrugged. “It’s a matter of public record, but they came to me when I already had a reputation for getting the job done in the private sector.”

It was tempting to let it go, but she couldn’t. “Z.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know about the rest of your team, but Garrett would never take a job with someone he hadn’t checked out. Our family isn’t exactly big on trust.” The understatement of the century.

“You’re wrong.”

She wasn’t, but she couldn’t confirm without asking Garrett. If it comforted Z to think that no one knew about his past, then she’d let him go on thinking that—for now. But anyone with half a brain who got a hold of the police reports would see the truth. Especially someone like her brother, who actively practiced BDSM.

Her mind kept going back to the betrayal he had to have felt when he realized what was happening. He’d basically bared a secret part of himself to his wife and she’d shit all over it. It made Sara want to punch something.

But that response wouldn’t do a damn thing to help him now, so many years later. Plus, from how tense his body was, she was pretty sure he was prepared for her to reject him out of hand after hearing the truth. For being such an observant man, his personal issues gave him a serious blind spot. She couldn’t help with that. But she
could
reassure him here and now.

So she kissed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”


Z had been prepared for Sara to reel back and look at him with disgust when she learned about his past. But here she was, comforting him like
he
was the victim. He turned to face her. “I don’t think you understand. I almost went to jail for beating my wife.”

“A beating she asked you for. Literally asked you for.” Her blue eyes held none of the judgment he’d seen in so many. “Unless I’m wrong? She
did
want this, didn’t she? And you explained to her what you wanted and expected, just like you did with me, right?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly.

“I thought so.” She kissed his forehead. “She asked for something she really didn’t want, which was something you should have seen. But that doesn’t mean you deserved what happened.” She kissed both corners of his mouth. “No one deserves that. And if I thought for a second that you actually abused your wife, we wouldn’t still be having this conversation. Understand?”

Surely it couldn’t be that simple. “I don’t think
you
understand.”

“I understand that I feel more alive when you’re touching me than I have in a very long time.” She moved down to his jaw. “I love the spanking that you gave me. And I love the way you talk to me.” The hollow of his throat. “I understand that I can’t get enough of you, even if that scares me. I want to kneel at your feet and call you, ‘Sir.’”

He shuddered at the picture she painted. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Probably not.” She laughed against his skin. “But you have me.” The silent
for now
hung between them.

The doorbell rang, and Z was off the bed and had Sara halfway to the bathroom before he fully registered the sound. He guided her the rest of the way in, his heart beating too hard. “Stay here until I come for you. Your brother says you know how to shoot—there’s a gun in the bottom drawer. Anyone besides me comes through this door, you use it.”

“Wait—”

He left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and then did the same with the bedroom door. Part of the reason he’d been glad Rodger picked a house this size was the ability for Sara to hide long enough for him to eliminate a threat.

Or for reinforcements to show up.

Speaking of… He should have gotten some kind of warning. Z patted his pockets, coming up empty, and cursed. Where the fuck was his phone? He paused to step into another room and retrieve a gun he’d slipped beneath the mattress and then headed down the stairs, alert and ready for any attack.

The doorbell rang again, ratcheting up his nerves. He moved in a half-crouch to the side room where he could see the front entryway. A FedEx truck was parked outside, a tiny woman, holding a massive box, standing at the door, her foot tapping. She didn’t look like some hardcore assassin, but looks could be deceiving.

Either way, she didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon.

He kept the gun drawn and walked into the foyer and opened the door, ready for any kind of attack. Instead, she just huffed an impatient breath and set the box on the front doorstep. Then she shoved a little machine at him. “Finally. Sign here.”

Feeling increasingly idiotic, he signed and watched her walk back to her truck and drive away. Then his attention landed on the package itself. Just because the delivery woman wasn’t an enemy didn’t mean the danger had passed. He carefully set the gun on the decorative table and pulled a knife from his pocket. A quick flick of his wrist split the tape and he pulled back the cardboard flaps. “What. The. Fuck?”

“What is it?”

Z spun around. “You’re supposed to stay put until I come get you.”

“And leave you to get taken out by an army of FedEx employees? No way.” She hurried down the rest of the stairs, and it was only then that he noticed his gun in her hands. She handled it like a pro, but that made sense—between Rodger and Garrett, she had plenty of men in her life determined to ensure she could protect herself.

The fact that she was still naked seemed to be lost on her.

Sara peeked into the box and laughed. “Oh my God. She didn’t!” She set her gun next to his and bent over, giving him a heart-stopping view of her ass before she rose, dangling a blindfold from her finger. Another dive brought up a flogger. “She really went all out.”

“Who?” He couldn’t take his gaze away from the flogger, his mind only too happy to supply the images of Sara tied down, her skin red from his strikes, her begging filling his ears. He turned away, taking a deep breath to regain control. “We need to get the box inside.”

“Sure thing.” She dragged it into the house and kicked the door shut. “Now we can have some real fun.”

What the fuck was he going to do with this woman? If Z’s life had taught him anything, it was that if something seemed too good to be true, it most likely was. And every single damn thing about Sara Reaver was exactly that. It was enough to make him wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.

BOOK: Protecting Fate
7.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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