Chapter Five
Zion
"You're burning, angel baby." I step in front of Makenzie's lounger, dropping a towel onto her lap. She isn't even remotely red, but we've been here for an hour, and if one more motherfucker looks at her like they want to know what she feels like wrapped around them, Lyle's manhood isn't the only one I'll be threatening today.
He seemed surprised when I appeared in front of him. But I had a feeling the bastard would be here. He's never far when he thinks there's a deal to be made. As soon as Makenzie was safely in the bathroom, I went looking.
I found him on the deck, schmoozing with some fucking D-List movie star.
"Zion Carmichael." A slick smile crosses Lyle's face. He would have made a helluva used car salesman. "Everyone's favorite security guard." He says it as if what I do places me below him on whatever scale he uses to measure people's worth. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't. We've protected some of the most important people in this state. They pay well for the services of two decorated ex-Marines and a former SEAL. "I didn't expect to see you or your brothers at this little party."
"Sucks for you because here I am." I shoulder my way in between him and the D-List star. "You've been harassing Makenzie Baird. It stops today."
"Is that what she told you? She's hysterical, Carmichael. They usually are when you end things on bad terms." He waggles his brows suggestively.
I take another step toward him, getting so close he has to lean backward to keep me out of his personal space. "We both know she wouldn't touch your dick with someone else's pussy, Taggert," I growl. "So how about you stop being a piece of shit and leave her alone before we both find out how far down your own throat you can fit your cock?"
"I'll take that as my cue to get the fuck out of here," D-Lister mutters, backing away from the conversation.
"D-did you just threaten me?"
"No. I made a suggestion. And now I'm making a promise. If you come anywhere near her again, you're going to be the first man in Nashville to eat his own dick covered in barbeque sauce. She doesn't owe you a goddamn thing. Keep pushing your luck, and you'll find out exactly how it feels when someone pushes back, motherfucker."
"What'd she do? Hire you to threaten me?" he sneers, though the confident gleam in his eyes winked out about thirty seconds ago. The thing about men like Lyle they think they're big and tough until someone pushes back. A bully hates karma. And I'm this motherfucker's karma. If he comes near my woman again, Madden won't have to destroy his world. I'll pluck it apart piece by piece, just to watch it collapse. And I'll do it with a fucking smile on my face.
No one threatens what belongs to me. No one touches what's mine. I may not be the same dangerous man I was when they put a gun in my hand and turned me loose on our enemies, but I'm not tame, either.
"She didn't have to hire me. Destroying you would be my fucking pleasure." I smile, a cold, lethal smile. It's the truth. She didn't hire me. Madden did. And there's not a single moment of destroying his world I wouldn't enjoy. "Get the fuck out of here before I decide to start right now."
I didn't have to tell him twice. He tucked tail and ran like the little bitch he is. I followed him out, just to make sure he didn't try any bullshit before he was off the property.
And made it back inside just in time to find my girl trying to give me a damn heart attack in that bikini. She looks like a goddess, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. I've been mean-mugging these little pricks for the last hour, trying to give her time to do her thing.
But her time is up. If she isn't in my truck, heading back to her house soon, I'm going to have my hands all over her in front of everyone at this party. They can listen while she screams my name. Maybe then they'll stop staring like they want what belongs to me.
"You're blocking the sun, Zion," she says sweetly, shielding her eyes with one hand to look up at me.
"I'm aware. But when you shine that bright, not even my shadow darkens it, Makenzie." I crook my finger. "It's time to go. You're burning."
"I'm not ready to go."
She's toying with me. She was ready to go as soon as we pulled up out front. I don't think this is her scene anymore than it's mine. But she had a job to do and a point to make and she was hell bent on doing both. Now, she's done. It's time to go.
"Either you come willingly, or I carry you out over my shoulder. Your choice."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me, baby."
She hesitates for a brief moment before practically launching herself out of the lounger. Her pretty little eyes spit fire at me as she wraps the towel around herself, bristling like a pissed off little kitten.
She hates being told what to do. Yet she does it anyway.
I shouldn't love that nearly as much as I do considering those goddamn heels are sharp enough to be fatal.
She brushes past me, muttering something I can't hear.
I hook my arm around her waist, dragging her up against my body before she can get far. My lips settle against her ear. "If you're going to insult me, at least speak loud enough for me to appreciate that smart mouth, beautiful."
I don't know if she does it on purpose, if she forgot my earlier threat, or if she's just as fucking turned on as I've been all day. But as soon as my hands land on her bare skin, she makes that sound again. The one that makes my dick hard enough to pound steel.
"Zion."
Christ, that whimper.
I scoop her into my arms with a low oath, ignoring the catcalls and whistles all around us. Fuck everyone here. If she's not coming for me in the next five minutes, I'll be making an entirely different kind of scene today.
I storm back inside the house, ignoring every look thrown our way. Let them look. Let them see my hands on her perfect body and the way she's clinging to me like she doesn't want to let me go.
She's mine, goddammit. All fucking mine.
I drag her into the nearest room with a door, slamming it closed behind us. Shelves line the walls with canned goods and nonperishables stacked up high. A pantry, then. It'll do.
"What ?"
I pin her against the door, claiming her mouth like I've wanted to do all fucking day. She tastes like sin and kisses like magic. Christ Almighty. She's going to have me on my knees, pleading for mercy. But I'll enjoy every filthy minute of it.
I lick inside her mouth, coaxing her tongue out to play with mine. She makes that damn sound again, so I do what any sane man would do. I drag her legs around my hips and dry hump her like my life depends on it.
Right now, I think it might.
"Zion," she moans, pulling the short strands of my hair. "Wh-what C?"
"What am I doing to you?" I finish for her when she can't. "Giving you what you've been asking for all day, angel baby." I grind my hips into hers, making sure I hit her sweet spot with the hard ridge of my erection. "You need to come. You'll do it on me."
"I I " She tries to deny that's what she's been after before she gives up, unable to tell me a lie. We both know that's precisely what's had her ready to crawl out of her skin all day. She's wanted me since she found me on her porch this morning. Except she's too modest to say it.
I'm not.
I slip my hand between us, flicking the tiny scrap of her bikini bottom to the side. She's burning hot against my fingers, her bare pussy already dripping.
"Oh, baby," I breathe, running my thumb up her slit. "Did wearing this little thing to piss me off make you this wet?"
"N-no." She grinds against my palm, panting.
"No?"
"Your smart mouth did."
I chuckle and bite her bottom lip. "You're lucky I'm a gentleman, or I'd be following through on my threat right now."
"Liar," she gasps. "You c-couldn't even stand that they saw me in a bikini."
She's got me pegged dead to rights. There's not a chance in hell I'd let anyone see what's currently dripping all over my hand. Never knew I was possessive until she slammed into me this morning. Turns out, I grew bigger, but I didn't grow up. I'm still the same wild little boy who didn't like to share his toys. And she's my new favorite.
"You're right." I press my thumb to her clit, not denying the truth. What's the point when we both know she's speaking facts? "Fifteen more minutes out there, and someone was going to lose their goddamn eyes for looking at what's mine, Makenzie."
"I'm not yours."
Oh. Hell. No.
This little model just declared war and I've always been at home on the battlefield.
I replace my thumb with three fingers and get to work, not saying a word. Sometimes, demonstrations are far more effective anyway. This is one of those times.
"Zion!" she cries.
"Louder, angel baby," I growl. "I don't think they can hear you screaming my name outside yet." I place my mouth against her throat, attacking her with my lips and tongue as I rub her clit in a fast, circular motion, not showing her any mercy.
Maybe I'll take it easy on her when her little ass learns to behave.
"W-what's your name?" she gasps out, her nails raking down my back as she rocks against my hand. "I forgot it."
On second thought
I sink my teeth into the little hollow where her neck meets her collarbone, turned the hell on by her fire and the way she yields it against me without hesitation.
She shouts my name, coming all over my hand in a warm, sticky rush. My balls churn, desperate for relief. But my dick has gone this many years without. It'll last a while longer.
"Damn, angel baby," I breathe against her lips, gently stroking her clit as she comes down in my arms. "That looked good."
"Mm," she moans, snuggling up against my chest. "That felt good, Thor."
Thor? Before I can ask, the sweetest little giggle escapes her lips, stealing an entire section of my heart.
"I guess you're God of my bikini instead of my panties, though, since I'm not wearing any of those."
By the time I put her back together and carry her out to the truck, the house has mostly emptied out. Everyone is out by the pool, settling in for a long evening of whatever it is they do here.
"What the fuck is Club Za?" I ask Makenzie as I buckle her into the truck.
"Creator House," she says. "It's a bunch of influencers in Nashville who all live here together to collaborate on content for their social media."
"This is an actual thing?"
"Yep."
"You're not a member?"
She wrinkles her nose, quickly shaking her head. "Olive was for a while before she left so I get invited to stuff here all the time. I only come when she makes me. But no, I'm not a member of Club Za."
"Why not? Hold that thought." I push the door closed before circling around to the driver's side to climb in. "Okay, now explain."
"Bossy," she mumbles.
"I heard that."
"You were supposed to hear that."
I grin, shaking my head. "Explain, baby."
"They have too many rules. I prefer to make my own," she says with a shrug. "Besides, I don't really fit in."
"Why the fuck not?"
"They're mostly dancers or performance artists. I'm not." She settles back against the seat, a furrow between her brows. "They also plan to do this long term."
"You don't?"
"Honestly?" She rolls her head to the side to look at me. "I don't know. I never set out to gain a lot of followers or start modeling or any of this. It just kind of happened." She shrugs helplessly. "I'm not sure I want to keep doing it."
"So why do it at all?"
"I want to start my own management company. I figure I should know what it's really like to live on this side of it so I can represent people the way they deserve to be represented. I don't want to be another Lyle, just in it for their money. I want to know exactly what goes into it and how I can best help them reach their goals. What better way than by living it firsthand?"
The little furrow stays firmly between her brows when she's talking about her life being Insta-famous. But it melts away now, replaced by a smile bright enough to light up any room. This is her passion, the thing that matters to her.
She has a big heart and a desire to see others succeed. I gathered as much from scrolling her social media. Snaps of her intersperse with more motivational content, like quotes and shoutouts made to inspire. She's happiest when she's talking about other people.
She may be a tough nut to crack, but underneath it, she's as sweet as they come.
"Can I ask a question?" I ask, backing out of our spot.
"You will anyway."
I shoot her a look, which only makes her smile.
"Ask your question, Zion."
"How the fuck did you get wrapped up with Lyle Taggert?"
"When Olive first blew up, he approached me to help manage social media for some of his clients." She grimaces, that furrow reappearing between her brows. "I wouldn't have said yes had I known what he was about then."
And I'm guessing she kept working with him after she found out what he was all about to help protect the people signed with him. She's the type to fall on the sword to keep others from tripping over it.
"Why does he think you owe him?"
"Because in his pea-brain, someone like me couldn't possibly gain a following without him." She rolls her eyes. "He's convinced himself that I'm using his connections to get ahead. It's not true. I've never used a single one of his connections and I wouldn't! The only reason people know my name is because of Olive and Madden."
I highly doubt that's true. People know her name because she's fucking beautiful and they see the same thing I do. Only an idiot looks at her and misses the fact that she's some kind of extraordinary.
"He's been after you for the last year?"
"Pretty much." She sighs heavily. "He was nicer about it at first, but the more I tell him no, the more unhinged he's become."
"Unhinged how?"
The way she rubs her wrist makes my blood boil. "He put his fucking hands on you?"
"He grabbed me the day he followed me home," she whispers. "I was trying to go inside, but he wasn't finished making accusations. I thought he was going to break my hand."
Oh, that motherfucker's days are numbered. He's lucky I didn't know that shit today, or I would have broken both of his fucking arms as a reminder not to touch what isn't his. The only way pricks like him learn to keep their hands to themselves is through painful lessons.
If I get my hands on him, his lesson will be real fucking painful.
"Did you two ever date?" I ask, just to make sure I don't need to kill him for that too.
The way she recoils from the question is answer enough. She's never dated him or even considered it.
"Did you and Bianca date?" she demands.
"Jealous?"
"Hardly."
She's a beautiful little liar, but a liar, nonetheless. She's jealous as hell, thinking I dated her friend. I opt to shut that shit down now. I'm not interested in playing that game.
"I've never dated Bianca, angel baby," I say quietly, navigating back roads heading toward her place. "Matter of fact, I've never been on a date at all."
"Never? As in never ever?"
"Never," I confirm.
She's silent for a minute, processing. "That doesn't mean you didn't sleep with her."
"The thought is eating you alive, isn't it?"
Her nose wrinkles as she glances away from me. "No."
I chuckle quietly. She's the worst liar I've ever met. "I've never fucked her, Makenzie. Maybe in your world, every man you meet jumps into and out of bed with every woman he comes across. I don't. Bianca worked photoshoots for some of our clients. That's the only reason I know her." I pause for a minute, giving that time to sink in. "I've never fucked around, angel baby."
"Me either," she whispers after a moment, turning back to face me. "My mom does enough of it for the both of us."
"Your mom sleeps around?"
"You could say that." She snorts indelicately. "It's more like her entire world revolves around men and existing for them. In her opinion, if we're not their ideal partner, we're defective."
Shit. That explains a whole hell of a lot. Unfortunately, none of it's good. Makenzie isn't stubborn and headstrong by choice. It's a necessity, one drilled into her from the time she was a little girl by a mother who tried to grind her spirit out of her.
"You weren't put on this earth to serve any man, angel baby," I growl, turning a hot look on her. "One of the sexiest things about you is your spirit and the fact that you've been giving me hell all fucking day. You think that's a turn-off? You're wrong. To a man like me, it's goddamn Kryptonite."
Those bright eyes lock on mine, wide and startled.
I hold her gaze for a long moment, letting her know I mean every word. She wasn't made to serve, but I was damn sure put on this earth to worship at her feet. And I fully intend to be the only disciple she ever needs.