Page 69 of Ripping the Odds
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“If you really want to know, yes.”
“I think I do.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell you when I’m holding you.”
We were silent during the climb up the stairs. When we reached our bedroom, Zak kissed me briefly before saying he needed to get clean. Needed to get clean as if he were somehow dirty. Those words made my heart hurt. I watched him walk away. His steps were slow, deliberate, like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. And I suppose, in a way, it was. But wasn’t it my job to help him carry his burdens? When I heard the water turn on a few seconds later, I made a decision.
I felt like a voyeur, leaning against the bathroom doorframe watching him shower. His head was tilted back while the water bounced off his chest and sluiced down his naked body. My eyes followed the trail, and I had to squeeze my thighs together in order to ward off my own desire. Zak clutched a navy-blue washcloth in one hand, his cock in the other.
“You’d have a better view if you joined me.”
My face flamed, though my embarrassment didn’t stop me from stripping bare. Since Mathilda wasn’t waterproof, I sat on the lid of the toilet and carefully removed it. Using one crutch and the grab bars Zak had installed on practically every inch of the walls, I hopped to the glass door. Before I could even open it, he was there, lifting me underneath my arms and depositing me on the bench which spanned the entire width of the shower. He stepped back. I thought he was giving me space when he was actually giving me a choice.
“Would you like to continue watching or do you want to become a participant?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether I get to touch or not.”
“Baby, you can touch me anytime, anywhere.”
So I did. I took his cock in my hand, circling my thumb over the tip a couple of times before stroking his shaft. Up and down, faster and faster. It was intoxicating, seeing him grow harder under my touch, knowing I was the cause of his pleasure. Hell, my own excitement slicked my inner thighs just from watching. His breaths grew ragged. He was close, but instead of letting go, he stepped out of my grip.
“Wha––”
“Not until I’m inside you.”
He lowered himself to the bench next to me and devoured my lips in a carnal kiss. I was so lost in our embrace that I missed him grabbing the hand-held shower wand off the wall beside him until a pulsating stream of water hit my clit.
“Holy shit,” I gasped, curling my fingers around the edge of the bench so I didn’t slide onto the floor.
“Good?”
“Holy shit.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Good was an understatement. I’d never felt anything like it and it only intensified when he filled me with two fingers. He didn’t move, instead he stroked a place deep inside. There was no build-up, only nirvana as the orgasm came out of nowhere. I was mid-moan when Zak pulled his fingers free, lifted me by the back of my thighs, and pressed my back to the shower wall. He entered me with one hard snap of his hips.
“Fuck, Pru. You’re squeezing me so tight.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life while he powered into me. His strokes were consistent, his rhythm controlled…until it wasn’t. Not long after, his mouth latched onto my neck, sucking deep as he grunted his release.
Sometime later in bed, Zak switched off the overhead light, plunging us into total darkness. Only after he curved his body around mine, skin against skin, did he talk about his time in New York. He didn’t give me a blow-by-blow, just enough for me to understand that the threat was gone.
Lying with my head on his chest, I closed my eyes and listened to his heart beat, slow and steady, under my ear. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Over and over. I’d come within inches of never hearing that beautiful sound again, even though he swore it wasn’t a close call. The bullet hole in Dimitri said otherwise.
“It’s really over?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“I’m glad.” I sighed. “What about the thefts at the casino? Do you know if Victor had anything to do with them?”
“Mak hasn’t found a link.”
