Shiloh wipes tears from her eyes, her laughter finally easing. “Again. Tell me the story again.”
“I’ve already told you what happened.” I grin, staring out the car window. The scenery flashes past in a blur of greens and browns, doing little to distract me from gloating. “I owned her ass. Selena’s not going to be a problem anymore.”
“But the part where she realizes how badly she fucked up is freaking hilarious. Girl, you’ve got to tell it to me again.” She jumps up and down in her seat, the car swerving left then right in response to her quick movements. “Come on, please?”
“I’m not telling you anything until we make it back to Zeke’s apartment alive. Focus on driving, you’ll get us killed otherwise.”
“This experience has changed you.” She smiles mischievously. “You’re a completely different person. It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”
Throwing my head back, I half chuckle, half groan. “For the love of Athena. Get over it already and focus on the road.”
Shiloh laughs, but thankfully falls silent. After a couple of minutes, she glances at me from the corner of her eye. “How do you think Zeke’s going to take it?”
“Take what?”
“What you did.”
“Um….”
“Do you think he’ll be cool about it, or lose his shit?”
“Why would he do that?” Nerves take flight under my skin, causing tingles to erupt in a series of goose bumps.
“Well, you hunted down his ex, confronted the she-bitch, and are going to rock up saying, surprise, I’m totally blackmailing her so she leaves us the hell alone. Come on, Wil. Do you really think he’s going to be okay with you walking into a lion’s den? The guy’s going to be pissed.”
“Fair point.” I swallow, trying to get my rising hysteria under control. It doesn’t work. “But it’s one you could have made before I entered the fucking restaurant!”
Damn my impetuousness and Shiloh’s inability to talk me out of stupid decisions. Why didn’t I think this through?
“Hey.” Shiloh holds up both hands in surrender, forcing the car to swerve onto the median strip. “I’m not trying to piss on your parade or anything.” With a squeal of tires, she straightens the vehicle, ballsing up both the metaphor and my faith in her driving abilities. “And remember, no matter what happens, I’ve got your back. Heck, I was the getaway driver for fuck’s sake, I’m just as likely to have my man come after me with rope and duct tape as you are.”
“Yet another insight into your love life I never asked for,” I grumble.
“Lady, don’t knock kink until you try it. It’s freaking awesome.” Shiloh purses her lips, thinking. “It’s just… this whole situation will be a lot for Zeke to take in, you know? How do you think he’ll react?”
“To be honest, I’ve been trying not to think about it. He almost had a coronary after I drove my car to the service station for coolant without telling him, so the likelihood of him being chill about me confronting his ex-wife behind his back is slim to none.”
Shiloh grimaces.
My stomach clenches.
And I question my life choices.
What if I was presumptuous in seeking Selena out? What if I crossed a line Zeke didn’t want me to cross? I can’t even be sure of his feelings for me since Selena’s the only person who’s spoken about them, and she’s not exactly a reliable source. So what if, rather than feeling proud of my actions, the man I love is hurt and disgusted? What if I’ve broken his trust and he never wants to see me again?
Nausea rolls though me. It’s rubbish timing since we pull up outside his place and I have to try not to hurl out the window onto his driveway. When Shiloh turns off the ignition and faces me, I draw a deep breath, meeting her gaze.
“You’ve got this.” Her expression is deadly serious. “There’s every chance Reid will lose his ever-loving mind the moment I step inside, but you’re going to be fine.”
I give a small smile. “Thanks.”
“And if I never see you again, it’s because he kidnapped me and is keeping me as his sex slave until I promise never to steal his car again.” She pauses. “Don’t send help.”
“Got it.”
We both get out of the vehicle, sneak past lurking journalists, and run to the garage entrance. The closer I get, the more terrified I become. My once brilliant plan screams potential disaster, and the thought of losing Zeke has me stumbling on the doorstep.
I key in the code for his apartment, and we move inside. It’s quiet. Our footsteps reverberate off the empty walls as we walk down the hallway. It’s beyond creepy. After entering the living area, we pause, then look at each other, confused.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
Shiloh shrugs.
After a quick search of the house, neither Zeke, Drake, or Reid are anywhere to be seen. “Weird,” I murmur, leading Shiloh to the apartment I used to share with Drake. “Maybe they’re in here?”
“Want me to call Reid to see where they are?”
I shake my head. “I think a surprise attack is best. Less chance of them overthinking what we’ve done.”
“Good idea.”
As soon as I enter the security pin and open the door, we’re hit with voices. “Shit,” my friend whisper-shrieks. “This is a bad idea, Wil. Maybe we shouldn’t have—”
“The fuck, Shiloh?” Reid’s on his feet in an instant, striding to where we stand frozen in the entranceway. We’re like two teens trying to sneak inside after a drunken night out. He cups her face in his hands before scanning her body for any evidence of harm. “You trying to get your ass spanked? Where the fuck have you been?”
“Out?” The word tumbles from her mouth, a question rather than a statement, clear evidence his close proximity is messing with her brain. Not that I blame the girl, Reid’s possessive gesture is equal parts sexy and intimidating.
“That’s it, you’re coming with me.” He grabs her hand, intent on hauling her to some dark corner, no doubt to remind her of who’s in charge. It makes me think of another alpha who’s prone to proving a point with his body. However, as I scan the room for impenetrable caramel eyes, the only set that stare back belong to Drake.
“Where’s Zeke?” My question halts Reid’s cut and run.
Drake stands, shrugging. “No idea.” He walks over to us. “Guy went postal after you left. Ordered us to get the fuck out of his apartment and then pissed off somewhere. He’s been gone for hours.” He levels me with a pointed stare. “And he wasn’t happy.”
Dread forms at the base of my stomach. “Oh.” Licking my lips does nothing to soften the parched skin.
Drake’s hands clamp on my shoulders, snapping me from my inner turmoil. “What happened?”
“I kinda fixed it.”
“What?”
“The problem. I kinda fixed it.”
His dark eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Babe, unless you can hack into every media database and delete the articles they’ve published, or can do some crazy voodoo shit where you wipe people’s memories, I don’t see how you can.”
Tipping my chin, I shrug him off before planting my hands on my hips. “Well, I saw Selena, and I’m telling you, she won’t be an issue anymore.”
Drake’s blue eyes widen. “You saw Selena? Crazy psycho uber bitch, Selena?”
The name must wake my friend from her Reid-induced coma, because Shiloh almost sounds normal when she says, “It’s true. Wil’s badass. Don’t buy into her innocent act. The woman’s got bigger balls than you.”
Drake blinks before giving a slow shake of his head. “You’re gonna need to start from the beginning.”
With a nod, I tell the guys about seeing Selena’s post on social media, then driving to The Royal Grace and getting her to admit that she spun a story to gain as much media attention as possible. When I get to the part about recording the conversation, Drake’s eyes almost bulge from his head. He holds out his hand, fingers wiggling in the universal sign for gimme.
“Where’s the phone? I need to hear this.”
I pull out Shiloh’s phone from my pocket and press Play. We’re all silent as we listen to the audio. By the time I hit Stop, Drake lets out a low whistle. “Holy fuck, Wil. That’s some heavy shit right there. Reckon your talent’s wasted on music, you need to get into detective work.”
I roll my eyes. “Um, no.”
Reid is quiet, his head tipped to one side. “Does anyone else have a copy?”
“Of the audio?”
He nods.
“No, just Shiloh.”
“Send it to my phone, and Drake’s too. We need to have an insurance policy in case she decides to try something else.”
“Sure thing.” After a couple of seconds, both Drake and Reid’s phones beep with incoming messages. I send it to myself too, but have no idea where my phone is, so don’t hear the familiar tone. I must have left it in Zeke’s apartment.
“Okay, done.” Knowing I’m no longer solely responsible for the blackmail material is a huge relief. The tension I’ve been harboring in my shoulders since early morning finally eases, but it leaves me questioning what our next step should be. “What now?”
“We wait.” Drake yawns, heading to the couch. He collapses into the soft leather with a groan. “Can’t exactly record without our producer, and it’s best to keep a low profile until this shitstorm passes.” His stretch is epic. “Might actually get some sleep now I know you’re not dead and that worthless sack of shit is out of the picture.”
Reid turns to Shiloh. “I need to get you home. Your brother’s been calling every half hour.”
“What time is it?” Shiloh retrieves her phone and checks the time. “Shit! I’m gonna be late for recording!” She smacks Reid on the arm. “Why didn’t you say something? We’re working on the final track today.”
“Hard to tell you when you won’t answer my damn calls.” His expression darkens. “You’re gonna pay for that, darlin’. Your ass is gonna be covered in my handprints by the time I’m through with you.”
“Dude, seriously?” Drake groans. “Get a fucking room.”
But my friend ignores him and shivers. She actually shivers from the dirty words and heated look her man throws her way. “We’d better get going, then.” Her voice is lower, huskier than it was before, and I have a strong feeling they’re going to be very late to the studio.
I give Shiloh and Reid a quick hug before shepherding them out the door. To be honest, I’m not in the mood for PDA, their public displays of affection are making me restless. Besides, I’ve got bigger things to worry about, like, where the hell is Zeke?
When I face Drake, ready to fire a million questions at him, it’s to discover he’s asleep. His large frame takes up the entirety of the couch, his long legs sprawled apart and one arm draped over his eyes. Not bothering to hide my smile, I grab a spare blanket and place it over him. He deserves the rest after everything I put him through.
Deciding it’s about time to hunt down my phone, I walk next door. The cell is on the kitchen island, and when I unlock it, it’s to discover there’s one missed call from Zeke. One. And it’s from around the time I left this morning. A niggling voice warns this isn’t a good sign. I mean, if he cared, surely he’d call more times than that? The logical side of my brain argues he heard it ring and decided it was pointless calling again, while the irrational side is having an internal breakdown complete with hyperventilation into a brown paper bag.
If I call and he tells me his feelings have changed because of what I did, I’ll shatter. It’s as simple as that. Wanting to live in ignorance a little longer, I decide on a distraction instead.
“Music.”
It’s the only activity capable of occupying my erratic thoughts. I make my way to the studio, collect my acoustic guitar, and head back to Zeke’s apartment. Since it’s a cloudless day, I step onto the balcony and breathe in the sunshine. Warmth hits my skin, followed by the cool sea breeze. The combination of two opposing forces warring for supremacy is enough to clear my mind. Embracing the emotional reprieve, I sit, tune the nylon strings of my Fender, and play.
I have no idea how long music flows from me. Time passes in a passage of notes and chords, the sounds becoming more complex, more intricate, the longer I play. I try to think back on everything Kai Jenner taught me, and am proud of the challenging chord progressions I produce. The music I’m creating is technical, original, and exactly what I need to pass the time.
It’s only when a throat clears that I pause. The final lick of the guitar is whisked away with the Anemoi.
I take my time in turning around. Partly because I don’t want to drop my guitar, and partly because I’m scared of what I’ll see. But, like many times before, Zeke’s expression is blank, a directionless map of harsh lines and angles.
“Hey.” I rest my instrument on the sun bed and stand, wiping suddenly clammy hands down the front of my cutoffs. “You’re back.”
Wordlessly, he watches me.
Zeke appears even larger than before, even more built. His black T-shirt is stretched across a broad chest, the material clinging to every ridge and groove of his muscular torso. His worn jeans hug narrow hips before encasing powerful thighs and calves. Internally shaking my head, I flick my gaze back to his face. Our eyes connect and my heart skips not one, but three beats. I’m lost, so lost in this man.
I step closer, craving his nearness despite not knowing if it’s welcome. “Are you okay? Is everything—” I swallow. “—okay?”
Nothing.
The tips of our shoes touch, and I can’t help but breathe in his spicy pine scent. It’s so Zeke, so inherently him, that I want to surround myself in it always. This overwhelming sense of belonging drives me to press my palms flat against his defined pecs. I take a moment to savor the solidity, the strength, the certainty he’s real. “I missed you.”
“You left.”
“I—”
Zeke wrenches my hands from him, pinning them behind my back in a vise-like grip. It’s borderline cruel—though I know he’d never hurt me—his grasp teetering on the precipice of pleasure and pain.
“You. Left,” he spits. “Again.”
“I—”
“No.” His free hand burns along the curve of my waist before clamping tight on my hip. His fingertips are going to leave bruises, but if it means there’s evidence he belonged to me, if only for a moment, I’ll take it.
It could be my last.
“When are you going to get it through your head?” He yanks me closer, not enough for our bodies to touch, but enough for the fire in his eyes to incinerate me from the inside out. “You’re mine.”
I gasp, really, really hoping he’s saying what I think he’s saying.
The hand clasping my hip shifts lower, scorching the front of my cutoffs. He cups me. His large, masterful hand grinds against my already wet pussy.
With a groan, my eyelids flicker closed.
“Look at me. Open your fucking eyes when I own this sweet cunt.”
It takes herculean effort, but I somehow manage to peel my eyes open.
“This is mine.” Jaw tight, he rubs slow circles with his palm. Sensation pools, zaps, wreaks havoc on my equilibrium. “My cock, my fingers, my tongue were inside you last night. Fuck, my seed is still inside you.” He shifts closer, enough for the very peaks of my nipples to graze his chest. I shiver. “That shit means something. Understand?”
My moan is soft.
“Answer me.”
“I…. Yes, I understand.”
“How ’bout you spell it out for me?” he growls, his hand grinding harder against my soaked shorts. “Make it really fucking clear who you belong to.”
I can barely see straight, let alone formulate coherent sentences, but I give it a red-hot go. “You. I belong to…. Holy Hera. Zeke, that feels so….” I moan, long and low as an unexpected orgasm rips through me.
“That’s fucking right,” Zeke rumbles in my ear as shudders, pulses, and tremors tear me apart. “You come for me, come because of me, and come to me when shit goes down. Got it?”
I want to talk, say something profound, but I’ve got nothing.
“Threatening Selena was a fucking stupid idea.”
With a shake of my head, I force the cogs in my mind to stutter, start, then whir. “Wait. You knew I went to see her?”
He releases his hold on my wrists, and strong fingers skim the length of my arm until they splay across my collarbone. “She told me you paid her a visit.”
“But how—”
His hand wraps around my throat, gentle pressure is applied, and my heartrate jumps in response. “If you’d stuck around long enough, you’d have known I had the situation handled.”
“I’m so confused.”
Zeke’s other hand tangles in my hair. “I’ve had a PI trailing Selena from the moment she filed for divorce. I knew what she was up to, I knew she wanted to ruin my good name. I knew exactly what game she was playing every step of the way.”
My gaze traces the harsh lines on Zeke’s face, enamored despite their severity. “Then why didn’t you call her out on it?”
“Waiting for the perfect time. Didn’t want to reveal what I had on her too soon. Had to wait until she had everything to lose.”
My expression must be a combination of awe and shock as his words sink in. I barely register him taking a handful of my hair and clenching it tight in his fist. “Today was the perfect opportunity,” I whisper.
“It was.” He gives a sharp tug, I gasp, and my neck is exposed to him.
“And I almost ruined it for you. I’m sorry, Zeke. You were so angry this morning, I had to do something. I thought….” I nibble my bottom lip, not wanting to finish. Even contemplating no longer having Zeke in my life brings with it a torrential wave of sadness so intense, tears well in my eyes.
Zeke skims my sensitive skin with his nose. It’s impossible not to sigh. “Was pissed at her for dragging you into this shitstorm. Not at you. Never you.” He nips the juncture of my neck and collarbone.
Blindly, I reach out, grappling for the man my heart is crazy stupid in love with.
“When I realized you left,” he mumbles against my fevered skin, “I went to the PI and got all the evidence I needed—clandestine phone calls, dodgy meetings, emails full of bullshit lies sent to bands I’m set to work with. Took it to my lawyer and drew up a lawsuit against her.”
“Oh?” I’m sure what he’s saying is important, but it’s really freaking hard concentrating when his mouth is on me.
“If she doesn’t back the hell off, I’m going to hit her with it. I’m going to make her wish she never picked up a goddamn microphone. Bitch can come after me.” He pulls back, staring so deep into my eyes, I fear we’ll drown. “But the second she came for you, I ended it.”
“Okay.” It’s all I’ve got. Ironic, since my body is thrumming with so much love I’m surprised I don’t burst into showers of stardust.
“I take care of what’s mine, little siren. And if I have to remind you every fucking day of every fucking week of every fucking month that I’m taking care of you, I will.”
“Zeke.” My voice trembles, everything trembles, because his answer to my next question is so fucking important. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. “You belong to me.”
“Yeah, I got that part.”
A callused thumb traces my cheek. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
“I got that too.”
His expression softens, those caramel irises turning to liquid as he scans my face. “Because I fucking love you.”
Sweet merciful Aphrodite.
The stars align, the moon is full, and celestial beings weep with joy.
I take a moment to breathe in his words, their meaning, and how unbelievably happy they make me. When I can speak, I pull his head to mine, murmuring, “I love you too.”
“l know.”
With a laugh, I push him away again. “Ass. You’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to say something romantic and then take me to bed. Now you’ve ruined it.”
“Ain’t the romantic type. You know this.”
“Yeah.” My smile is soft. “I know. You’re real, honest, and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
He grunts, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his expression. Powerful arms lift me until my legs wrap around his waist. “Gonna fuck you now.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh.
Zeke strides inside. “Nothing funny about how I’m gonna own your body, siren. You’d better be ready to take all of me, because I ain’t goin’ easy on you.”
“Bring it, storm. I can handle whatever you throw my way.”
His eyes darken, my skin heats, and the crackling energy that ignites when our souls collide bursts into flames.
How I’ve managed to win the heart of this tempestuous, enigmatic man, I’ll never know. But I thank all the pantheon gods for giving me this sacred gift.
I’m going to treasure it always.