The Arrangement: The Seduction (Kindle Worlds Novella) (5 page)

I clench my fists and immediately release. I can’t afford anger now. I’m in the parking lot of South Oaks, the mental institution, and I need to walk into the hospital with a clear head and only positive vibes.

As it is, I never know what I’ll find when I go inside. A vacant, empty shell staring into space or a hysterical, wild woman who needs to be sedated. I press hard against my temples and the growing headache. I caused the hysteria the first time Grace broke her silence. We were walking in the garden. She tripped and fell. I leaned over her to help her get up, and she lost it. Shrieking, screaming. Fucking screaming at the top of her lungs.

Get off me. No. No. No.
Her hands over her head as she curled into a tight ball. The memory made me gag. So did her long, rambling recounting of what
he
did to her. Those had been the first words she’d spoken in years. Nothing since. And they were enough to drive me to make things right.

Somehow, he will pay. I will make him suffer the same pain I’m in every time I think about my beautiful sister. I know I need to break someone he cares about, but those people are too few and far between. His fiancée is protected. I can’t get near her. There’s only Chloe, who doesn’t deserve what I have planned.

A nice guy would stay away.

I can’t.

But Chloe’s strong. She handled me pounding that bastard into the ground without too much female hysteria. Which makes me believe somehow she will bounce back from what I have to do.

Chapter Four

The next night at work, Tank gathers the waitresses together for a talk. “We had an incident in the parking lot.”

I tense. Tank knows about my car since it stayed in the lot overnight. I play it off. He asks if I saw anything or anyone and I deny it, telling him that by the time I walked outside, my tires were slashed. It’s the truth as far as it goes.

“Just want you girls to be careful. If you need me to walk you out, say so,” he says in his gruff voice.

He doesn’t mention the guy we left in the parking lot, and neither do I. I’m sick about it but let it go.

That same night, I ask Zach, and he assures me it’s been handled. There won’t be any blowback on him or me. I don’t know how that’s possible, and I don’t want to know. He obviously knows how to handle himself … and other things. It’s something that makes me feel protected when he’s with me and nervous about him when he’s not.

He’s with me often.

Over the next few weeks, Zach steps up. Just not in the way I hoped. He’s my bodyguard. My shadow. I’d even call him my friend. He meets me at my dorm before work and follows me in his car. After a couple of times, I gave in, and now he just drives me to The Tavern. He walks me inside and sits at my station now, and I serve him drinks. He always waits for me to get off work and escorts me to his truck, his hand warm and sure on my back, setting off fireworks everywhere in my body.

I want him to make a move, but he never does.

Does he not want me? It’s easy to think that’s the reason, but I see how he looks at me, like he wants to devour me. At this point, I wouldn’t say no.

I sigh and bend to retie my sneaker.

“What’s wrong?” Callie asks. “You seem distracted and down tonight.”

Am I that transparent? I lean against the bar. It’s halfway through the night. I have hours to go, and I’m feeling frustrated with him and with myself. “I don’t understand what’s going on with him.” I refuse to look over at Zach. Callie will know who I mean.

“Problems with your shadow?” she asks.

“Why does he do that? Hang around and not make a move?”

She shrugs, but her perceptive gaze rakes over me. “Maybe you and your sweet self intimidate him?”

I blow out an annoyed puff of air. “Why do you say that?”

“You can’t change who you are. Not even a sex tape can take away from who you are deep inside.” She wraps an arm around me in a brief hug. “It’s not a bad thing,” she assures me.

“Then why does it feel like one right now?”

“Because you want him. Which means you’re going to have to make the first move.” She waggles her eyebrows and makes me smile. “Trust me, he’s not going to turn you down.”

“Ladies, get back to work!” Tank yells from across the bar.

Callie winks at me. “You can do it.”

Nerves churn inside me at the prospect of taking Callie’s advice, but I will. I’m so primed and ready from being around him all the time that I’m surprised my lips haven’t found his by now.

The good news is the next few hours fly quickly because I now have a plan. I’m finally finished, but I pause in the bathroom to freshen up before I head out. Just in case things go the way I want them to.

I step into the darkened bar. Tank has shut off the front lights.

“Ready, Princess?” Zach asks.

I’ve grown used to the nickname, and I like the sound rolling off his lips. I collect my bag and nod, and we walk out the rear exit, his hand against my back. I try not to shiver, to read too much into the now-familiar touch.

“You don’t need to do this every night. I’m pretty sure you made your point and nobody will bother me again.”

I want him to at least admit there’s something more between us before I make a complete fool of myself. My hands are sweaty, and I wipe them together as I wait for his reply.

“I thought we talked about this already. I want to,” he says as we reach his truck.

I turn to face him. I can’t rise onto my tiptoes to get closer to him without my intentions being obvious. Still. I lean into him. “Why?” I ask.

He looks startled. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to? Because you feel sorry for me? Because I don’t need to be your charity case.”

He frowns. “Where is this coming from?”

I sputter with frustration. “Where did you come from?” I challenge right back. “One day you’re here at the bar. A few weeks later, you save me. And after that, you’re my constant companion. I keep asking what your deal is, and you give me all these compliments. So either you’re in desperate need of a friend or—” I gather every ounce of courage I possess.

“Or what?” he asks, his tone dangerous.

“Or you want me.”

His eyes narrow. His cheekbones pull tight. “You’re the one pushing me,” he says. “Unbelievable.”

I straighten my shoulders and meet him head on. “Well, someone has to make a move. I can’t do this anymore. Either you’re in or you’re—”

He cuts me off by pressing his mouth against mine. Pretty darned effective if you ask me. I’m stunned, and then I’m just in the moment. His lips are warm, his taste minty. He’s gentler than I would expect as his lips move over mine. Soft and supple, he’s tasting me and it’s heaven.

Every time I inhale, I breathe him in, and it’s delicious. He’s delicious, but he’s still hesitant, and I can’t imagine why. I dart my tongue out and lick the seam of his lips.

With a groan, he picks me up, and suddenly my back is against the truck, his big, hard body pressing into mine. Warmth that has nothing to do with the summer air rushes through me. This is what I’ve wanted. What I’ve been waiting for. The kiss turns possessive. A tug on my hair tilts my head and positions my mouth so he can dive in. And he does. His tongue thrusts against mine, learns the deep recesses of my mouth. I’m trembling and grab onto his shoulders to steady me.

Touching the muscles in his upper back reminds me there’s more for me to explore. While he devours my mouth, I let my hands roam over him, up his neck, and into his hair. It’s like silk, and I love the feel of the golden strands sliding along my fingertips.

He nips at my lips, and I feel the sensation in my breasts and between my thighs. My hips buck against him, and I’m needy in ways I’ve never experienced. My sex feels swollen and wanting. Now I understand what it means to feel empty and to want more.

I shake and tremble, my hips grinding against him, seeking relief.

“Easy,” he says as if he knows what I’m feeling. His hand strokes my cheek to calm me.

Not possible when I need him so badly. I reach down and cup his thick erection in my hand.

He lets out a sexy groan. “You do crazy things to me.”

“Yeah, well, you sure managed to hide it.”

He hikes my skirt and slides his hand between us. His fingers begin to stroke me through my damp panties.

Oh God. I arch into his touch.

“You’re wet for me,” he says, sounding pleased.

I whimper as he moves his hand around. “Want me to take the edge off?” Without waiting for a reply, he begins to circle my sex with the heel of his hand.

Sensations spark brighter inside me, and I’m shaking against him. I know the explosion is coming, and I want it more than anything. A small part of me realizes we’re in a parking lot, but it’s dark. Nobody else is around. And the way I’m feeling, with how close I am, I wouldn’t care if we had an audience as long as he makes me come.

I hear a high-pitched moan and realize it came from me. I bite my cheek and press my face into his shoulder. He doesn’t let up the insane rotation of his hand. He’s working me perfectly, and I’m rocking against him. I’m wet, feel myself getting wetter.

“God, Princess, you feel good. So hot.”

“For you,” I manage to say, but my mouth is against his warm neck, and I mumble.

He lets out the male rumble. “That feels good. Bite me there.”

I’m stunned. I’m so close to coming I’m near tears at the intensity of sensations flying through me. And maybe some emotions too.

“Do it,” he says, his hand still swirling around my sex.

Oh God. I press my mouth against the side of his neck and brush his skin with my teeth. And when he gives one final thrust of his hand, I shatter, pulling at his hair, as bright flashes of light hit behind my eyes and my entire body soars.

I’m out of breath, and I don’t know how much time passes before I’m ready to look at him.

Finally I pull my face from the crook of his shoulder and meet his gaze.

“Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells me with a grin. His eyes are molten on mine.

I duck my chin down. I’m not a sex goddess, contrary to what that tape implies, and this isn’t normal behavior for me. Now that the deep need has passed, I’m embarrassed.

“Hey. Look at me.” He turns my chin with his hand. “That was awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grins.

Just like that, I’m back with him again. “So why didn’t you go for it sooner?” I ask.

He tips his head back, and a full-blown laugh I don’t think I’ve heard before rumbles through him. I like the sound.

“How about we just go with what’s happening now?” he suggests.

“And what is that?” What happens after a guy makes a girl come apart in the parking lot? I wonder.

“Up to you. My place is in Queens. Not far by car.”

I blow out a breath of relief. “Okay.”

He doesn’t wait for more. He lifts me up so I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist, and he walks around to the passenger side of his truck. Next thing I know, I’m settled into the seat, buckled in, and we’re on our way.

He doesn’t give me time for nerves to kick in. He immediately reaches for my hand and settles it onto his thigh as he drives. It’s possessive and hot, and too many emotions ride through me.

I remind myself not to read more into tonight than hot sex, but it’s hard given how attentive he’s been over the last few weeks. Why would a guy invest so much time and energy into me if there weren’t something meaningful there? If it was just sex he wanted, he could have gone after it weeks ago.

As for me, yeah, this is happening fast. And maybe I have sworn off men. But he’s not just any man. My heart seems to know him. And if I seem too trusting, well, I’m going with my heart. It’s never felt this way before.

He drives uptown and through the Midtown Tunnel. We’re in Queens, not a borough I know well. Soon he pulls up to a small house in what appears to be a fairly decent area.

I’m surprised he’s in a house, not an apartment. “Have you lived here long?” I ask.

“My grandfather owned the place for years. He left it to me when he died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “Life.”

“Yeah,” I say, not sure how else to acknowledge that sad bit of truth.

He helps me out of the truck and guides me to the front door. “This is it.” He opens the locks with his set of keys and lets us inside.

He flips on lights, and I take in the small house. There’s an entryway and a den with a big-screen television. To one side is a pass-through kitchen.

He tosses his keys onto a table in the den. There’s not much in the way of décor. A leather couch, a table with papers spread all over. A bookshelf lined with mysteries.

I notice a photograph in front of the books and step over for a closer look. In a four-by-six frame, there’s a picture of a woman about my age, her hair about the same color as Zach’s. She has a wide grin on her pretty face, her arm around a younger Zach as he glares for the camera. They look too much alike not to be related.