Page 70 of Calling a Cease-Fire

MIA

The door to the Victorian swung open and I let my gaze roam down Zack’s body. How he made sweats and a T-shirt look so good, I didn’t understand. He looked down at the tote bag slung over my shoulder and smiled.

I sighed, knowing that would be his response. “Don’t go reading too much into it. It’s late.” Until now, we’d gotten together at my place. Well, except for one night when I came by right after work, but I didn’t stay the night. “And I don’t want to be driving home late tonight, especially since the arsonist is still out there.”

His jaw locked tight. I knew he was pissed that the fucking kid still hadn’t been caught.

He ushered me inside, and we went through our normal small talk, covering how my shift was and what he did on his day off, but something felt off. Even when deciding what we wanted to eat, there was an eerie quiet about him that had me worried. I listened to him order the food, coming up with different names for each dish, and it made me laugh.

I loved that he could make me laugh.

I’d come to realize that when he was quiet, it was because he was in his head. Thinking and stewing about something. It wasn’t very often, but it was obvious to me when it did happen. Kind of like that time after the kid got stuck in a tree and I found Zack sitting at the bar, quiet and broody.

I sauntered over to him, trailing one finger up his arm, and then threaded my fingers through his hair. “Something on your mind?”

He hesitated, searching my face, and the words that left his lips didn’t surprise me. “Are you bringing a date to Logan and Izzy’s wedding?”

I couldn’t help my reaction to the disgust in his tone. God, I shouldn’t like it, but the way his eyes flared and he looked like he wanted to strangle some imaginary man…it made me irrationally giddy.

“Would that make you jealous?” I hummed, running my hands down his body.

He gripped my wrist and spun me, bringing my back against his chest with a thud. His hand wrapped around the front of my neck, cradling my jaw in his large palm, and he brought his lips to my ear. “Insanely fucking jealous.”

“That sounds fun, actually,” I teased, purposely trying to avoid the question because I knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“You know what also sounds fun?”

“Hmm?”

“Spanking this pretty little ass of yours.”

Hot desire shot straight to my core at his words. I smirked, rubbing my ass against his very hard cock. “You keep promising that but⁠—"

I gasped, not even getting the rest of the sentence out, as he bent and yanked my leggings and panties down my legs. My ass suddenly exposed to cool air had me sucking a breath in.

I swallowed, anticipation and excitement mixing into a heady combination.

“You want that?” He rubbed a hand over one cheek. “My hand on your ass, leaving its mark.”

God, I knew what he was asking. The meaning behind his words was clear. Mine.

I should stop this. Say no, I didn’t want that. But that would be a lie, so I nodded.

“Need your words, Raven.”

Not baby. Or vixen. But Raven. He wanted me to say the words. Give him this. Give us both this.

“Yes. Slap my ass. Make it red so I can remember it every time I sit down.”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured against my ear.

The term shot straight to my pussy, making it throb. I’d never been this turned on before. This ready for a man to touch me.

He pressed a hand to my back, urging me to bend forward. “Lean on the table.”

I obeyed, something I never thought I’d do, bracing my forearms on the cool surface. A gasp tore from my mouth when his hand came down hard on my right cheek and then on my left.

“Like that?” he asked.