I LEFT THE shop before I got caught with my pants down and my cock deep inside the president’s daughter. We exchanged phone numbers and, as much as I didn’t want to leave, I paid for the work done on my SUV and drove home.
I hadn’t even known Zillah for twenty-four hours and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was young, full of life, and everything I needed in my darkest hours. It didn’t make sense when I never believed in this instant attraction shit but there was something about her that I latched on to. And I knew she felt it just the same.
Pulling up in front of the large mansion that was home for Hell’s Harlem, I parked my vehicle and let out a slow breath. It had been a few days since I kicked Catch out of my room and he had been avoiding me ever since. The tension was thick between us but I didn’t want it to be weird. Knowing I had to man up and face him, I left the SUV and trudged into the house.
“Hey, Tray.”
My gaze landed on Eve, Greyson’s wife.
“Hey. How’s my favorite nephew?” I asked, nodding toward Jaron who she was bouncing on her knee.
She laughed, pushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s your only nephew.”
I grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek. Ruffling Jaron’s hair, I then took him from her arms and hugged him to me. The tightness in my chest eased. He was only a year old, but he still had that fresh baby scent and it made that anxiety rushing through me simmer.
“You seem different.” Eve patted the spot beside her.
“How so?” I sat beside her.
“I don’t know. You just do.” She tapped her chin. “Did you meet someone?”
Yes. “No.”
She laughed. “You’re lying.”
“Jaron, women are crazy.” I tickled his belly, earning me giggles.
“Shut up. We are not. Not all of us anyway.” She pushed me. “Give me back my son and go get us a beer.”
I saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.” I headed to the bar and grabbed two beers from the fridge. Just when I was about to head back to the booth Eve was sitting at, Catch rounded the corner. He stopped suddenly, his gaze landing on me.
“Hey,” he muttered, nodding once.
“Hi.” God, this was awkward. Anyone I ever messed around with, didn’t usually live in the same building as I did. But this was weird. So fucking weird, and I didn’t like it.
“You’ve been busy,” Catch said, taking a step toward me.
I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat. “Yeah.” My heart stuttered. “I have to go.” I shoved the beers in his hands and hightailed it to my room, needing to put some distance between us. We had to get our shit back to normal. I couldn’t be friends with Catch if he was going to look at me the way he did. If he was going to feel for me the way I didn’t deserve. Fuck my life.
As soon as I made it to the second floor, a breath of relief washed over me. I could do this. He could do this. He needed to move on.
“Tray?”
I jumped, spinning around, and saw Greyson coming toward me.
“You good?” he asked, placing Penny, his cat, on the ground in front of him. She hopped off, the fact she only had three legs not slowing her down.
“Yeah,” I muttered, wishing I was Penny at that moment. Really, Tray? A cat? I wanted to be a cat. Fuck me, I was losing my damn mind.
“You sure?”
I nodded. “Listen, I have to …” I glanced at my door. So many memories hid behind it. Some good. Some bad. “Maybe I’ll stay in one of the guest rooms for now.”
“You know they’re always open, but why?” Greyson frowned. “Did something happen?”
“Catch. He uh … I …” Fuck. I never had any issues saying what was on my mind but when it came to that fucker, I couldn’t get a proper sentence out.
“What happened?”
“How did you deal with him being in love with you when you didn’t feel the same way?” I blurted, the back of my neck heating.
Greyson chuckled and ran a hand through his shaggy dark blond hair. “Well, as much I love you guys, I’m not into dick so that helped a bit.”
“I’m not either. Or … I wasn’t.” My cheeks burned even more. Why the hell was this so damn hard to talk about?
“Listen.” Greyson came toward me and cupped my shoulders. “Whatever you two do is between you. I think you should talk to him first about this shit instead of with me. But if I had to give you advice, I would tell you to follow your gut and stop leading him on.”
“I’m not leading him on.”
“No?” Greyson raised an eyebrow. “Then how come for the past few months, I’ve seen him leave your room over and over again. And you’ve become a moodier asshole than me.”
“Fuck you I have,” I threw back at him.
“You’re ruining my rep.”
I grunted.
“Listen, man up and stop being a fucking pussy about this shit.”
“I had nothing better to do.” I shrugged him off. “You never just want a good fucking blow job?”
“Yeah, man. I have. But not by a best friend. Not by someone who clearly has feelings for me but I didn’t return them. Anyone before my wife knew what they were getting with me. Can I say the same for you?”
“Fuck you.” I stormed into my room, slamming the door closed behind me. He was right. Didn’t mean I liked it but Greyson was definitely fucking right.
(Zillah)
I was bored. I was always bored but since meeting Tray, I became even more … bored. I sighed, rolling onto my back, and waited. It was nearing three in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep. Tray had been on my mind since I met him the day before. When he touched my cheek. When he told me he wanted to fuck me. When he just looked at me. It was like he could see right into my soul. Right into a part of myself that had been dormant for so long. A part no one had ever revealed before, until him. I may have been a virgin but I knew I wanted more. I wanted him. I wanted everything. I was greedy. Hungry. And I didn’t know what for.
Letting out another sigh, I rolled onto my stomach and grabbed my phone. No messages. No social media updates. Nothing. It was three in the morning and everyone was asleep but me.
Suddenly, a text came through. My eyes widened, my heart jumping to my throat.
Tray: You insane like me and can’t sleep?
Holy. Shitting. Shit.
Me: I’m awake. So yes. I’m insane too. Lol!
Tray: Well then, Beauty. Looks like you’re stuck with me.
My stomach did a flip at the pet name. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Me: What are you doing?
Tray: Pondering the reason of life.
I giggled.
Me: Do…
I paused. Would it seem desperate if I asked him if he wanted to video chat? I was new at this and he was far older than I was. Did he even know how to video chat? God, Zillah. He was only thirty-eight. Not one hundred.
Tray: Something wrong?
I bit my bottom lip. Screw it. Hitting the video camera icon, I waited until Tray’s too handsome face appeared on the screen.
“Well, Zillah. Not many can say they’ve seen me at this hour.”
I grinned, my cheeks heating. “Does that mean most people you spend time with at this hour are sleeping or …”
“Or they’re not looking at my face.” He winked. “So, tell me, why can’t you sleep?”
I shrugged, resting my chin in my palm. “I’ve never been a good sleeper. Just once I would like to be so damn exhausted that I’m forced to sleep and then I’ll wake up and be the most refreshed I’ve ever felt.” I laughed. “That’s probably lame.”
“Nah.” Tray lit up a smoke, puffed on the end, and blew small smoke rings out into the air.
I swallowed hard. How the hell could someone smoking be suddenly the hottest thing I had ever seen?
“My friend’s trying to get me to quit.”
“I see that’s working out really well.” I laughed.
He chuckled. “Yeah. It’s my only vice. I’ll have a beer every now and again but these cigarettes are my true downfall. Well … these and …”
“And?” I raised an eyebrow.
His dark eyes met mine. “Sex.”
“Oh.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Is that a thing?”
“It can be.” He stuck the smoke back in his mouth. “If it’s with the wrong person I guess.”
I nodded like I knew what he meant, when in reality, I had no fucking idea what he was talking about. “Why are you up?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep either. I just got back from the gym, took a shower, and was too on edge to relax. So here we are.”
“What would take the edge off?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Zillah.” His voice lowered. “You know the answer to that already. Don’t you?”
“Sex,” I whispered and placed the phone against the base of the headboard.
“Tell me, Beauty. Did you go to school?”
“I graduated high school and got my Master’s in computer programming,” I answered, thankful for the change in subject. “But I didn’t do anything more with it.”
“Why not?” Tray placed the phone against something and sat back before taking off his shirt.
My jaw dropped as my eyes slid along the lines of his hard, tattooed muscles. His nipples were pierced along with his belly button.
He laid back down on his bed, mirroring my pose and waited. “Zillah?”
I coughed. “Yeah. Um. What was the question?”
He laughed. “You know how to make an old man feel good.”
“You’re not old.”
“I’m thirty-eight.” He rubbed the dark scruff on his strong jaw.
“That’s not old,” I pointed out, wishing I was there with him. My stomach tumbled. I should not be thinking these thoughts.
“It’s not. Not technically, but in the line of work I do, age creeps up on you faster than you would like.”
“My dad is going to be sixty soon. While he likes to think he can still party like the boys, he can’t. So, he’s training Kian to take his place.”
“That’ll be some big motherfucking party when that happens.”
“Yeah.” I thought a moment. “How do you know my dad?”
“We’ve gone over this.”
“We have but I still don’t know how you know him. Or know of him. And Kian actually left me alone with you.” It confused me when Kian had never done that before.
“I can’t explain that. What your brother does is all on him.”
“Tray.”
“I met your dad years ago. When I was running for clubs. Before I met Greyson Mercer.”
“Greyson Mercer?” I had heard that name before. “Isn’t he the president of …”
“Hell’s Harlem.”
“Oh.” My heart jumped. “Do you work with him?”
“I do.” Tray frowned. “Does that bother you?”
“No but it might bother my dad.” Although I had grown up in the life, my dad still tried his best to keep me out of it as much as possible. But that proved to be difficult over the years seeing as who my father was.
“Your dad knows I’m friends with bikers.”
“No. I mean with us. He’ll be pissed knowing I’m chatting to someone who hangs out with them, let alone a man.” I sat up, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Zillah, you can’t live under your dad’s thumb for the rest of your life.”
Shadows moved under the foot of the door leading to my room. My heart gave a start. Grabbing the phone, I hid it under my pillow just as the door opened.
“Zillah?” My dad peeked his head into the room. “What are you doing up?”
“I can’t sleep. I was just about to grab a glass of water,” I told him, surprised at how easy it was for the lie to roll off my tongue.
He nodded once. “Sleep well.”
“You too, Daddy.”
He shut the door, leaving me alone with the banging of my heart.
I locked the door before jumping back on the bed and grabbing my phone.
“You live with your fucking father?”
I swallowed hard at the hard tone of Tray’s voice. “I do.”
“Tell me why.”
“Only if you stop giving me that growly voice,” I told him.
“I am not giving you a growly voice.”
“No?” I leaned the phone against the base of the headboard again. “You find out I live with my dad still and you go all alpha macho man on me. It’s not like I’m living with some random dude. He’s my father.”
“Don’t care,” Tray grumbled.
“Really? Are you jealous of my dad?” I had meant for it to be teasing but his sudden mood change was throwing me off.
“No. I’m not jealous of your dad. I’m growly, as you like to put it, because I can’t ever go over to see you because of who you live with. That’s why.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “Is that all?”
He chuckled. “You are something else, Beauty.”
“I can come there. Wherever you are anyway.”
“Would you like that? Coming to my place? Seeing my home? Where I live? Everything that makes up me?”
My heart sped up with each question that left his mouth. “Why do those questions suddenly sound so damn erotic when you’re just asking me to come over?”
Tray smirked. “I have that way.”
God, he was too much. Could I even handle him? I was a virgin and he was far from being inexperienced. It made me wonder how long it took him to become as confident as he was.
“It’s pushing four in the morning. I should let you get some sleep.”
My stomach sunk. “Okay.”
“But first,” his voice lowered, “leave me with something to go to sleep to.”
“Like what?”
“Use your imagination, Zillah. What do you think will help me sleep?”
“Sex.” I laughed.
“As much as I would like for that to be the case, that can’t happen right now. Not yet. We need to have our date first.”
“You still want to do that?” I asked him, leaning my head on my pillow.
“Yeah. I do.”
I moved the phone to its side, leaning it against the other pillow. Stifling a yawn, I curled my arms under my head. “What do you want me to leave you with?”
“Anything you think I need.”
Chewing my bottom lip, I lowered my top, revealing my breasts.
“Hmm …” He licked his lips. “Touch them.”
I cupped them, massaged, and kneaded until a grumble sounded from the phone.
“Fuck me. I don’t think that’ll help me sleep much.”
I laughed, covering myself, and rolled onto my stomach.
“Good night, Beauty. I’ll text you in a few hours and we can go over details for our date.”
“I wish you were here beside me,” I murmured, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Me too, Zillah,” he paused. “Me too.”