Chapter Seven
Zion
"Jesus," I rumble, scrubbing a hand down my face.
"Good morning to you too," Makenzie says, wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a smile as she leans against the doorjamb with a toothbrush in her hands. "I thought you were going to sleep all day."
"You're supposed to be in this bed with me, angel baby." I'm pissed that I didn't hear her leaving it. She slept right up against me all night. I barely slept a wink. It was hard to do when I was busy falling in love with every adorable fucking sound she made. Every time she muttered my name, I felt like a god. And every time she pushed that gorgeous ass back against me, I wanted to destroy kingdoms.
Does she realize yet how much power she holds over me? Will she use it to annihilate me? I don't know yet. I think she's on the verge of falling for me, but she's scared.
Can't say I blame her, not with the shit her mother put her through. She's built her whole life around that fear, using it to drive her. And I'm a bossy, autocratic motherfucker. I've always been that way. Zayne is the pain in the ass. Gideon's the peacekeeper. And I'm the one who craves control. I'd almost forgotten how much until I stood before her yesterday, staring at my future.
"I was sleeping," she says. "But you're basically a freaking furnace, and you were poking me." Her eyes drift down my body, letting me know exactly what she means.
I wrap my fist around my erection, letting her have a good look. "You could crawl back up in this bed and help me handle the problem."
"It looks like you have it handled well enough, Zion."
I growl at her, which only makes her smile grow.
"I thought I was cranky in the morning, but wow. You're really a grump."
"You're the one who kept me up all night."
"I did not."
"You were moaning my name and grinding that perfect ass all over me, Makenzie. How the fuck is a man supposed to sleep with a goddess all over his dick?"
She blushes bright red.
"Oh, so now you're shy?"
"No. I'm trying to remember why I decided not to smother you with a pillow last night," she says sweetly, batting her lashes at me.
"Because I wore your ass out letting you use my face as your own personal cum rag?"
"Oh, my God. You're filthy."
"You love it."
She huffs, flinging her toothbrush around like she's wielding a deadly weapon. "Get dressed. We have things to do today."
I sit upright, my hand falling from my cock. "If you think you're dragging me to another party today, think again, baby." One party a year is my limit. Especially if it means letting other motherfuckers gawk at her. Hell no. Been there, did that. Damn near murdered everyone.
"It's not a party."
"What is it?"
"You'll see." She beams at me. "Out of bed and on your feet, Marine. You've got orders." She ducks back into the bathroom, leaving me staring after her. Her quiet laughter floats back to me.
I drag my ass out of bed, leaving my hearing aid on the bedside table. I don't bother with clothes as I follow her into the bathroom. She's at the sink by the time I get there, putting way too much toothpaste which she squeezes from the middle of the tube on her toothbrush.
I pluck both from her hands.
"Hey! I was using that."
"Not anymore." I set them on the counter before stripping my shirt off over her head.
"If you wanted it back, all you had to do was ask," she huffs, slapping her wild hair out of her face to scowl at me.
"Don't want it back." I lace my hand through hers, pulling her across the small space to the walk-in shower. "We're showering."
"I'm not showering with you."
"Yeah, you are." I reach in to start the water, chuckling as she threatens to drown me. She must have slept well last night. She's feisty as hell this morning. But when I hold open the door for her to step into the shower, she steps right in. She grumbles under her breath the whole time, but she doesn't tell me no.
She hasn't used that word a single time with me. She's bitched and complained and threatened my life about eight different ways, but the only time she's flat out said no was when it came to putting cameras in the house. Every other time, she's danced around the word, carefully avoiding it.
She's more than capable of making her own decisions and taking care of herself. She's capable of standing up for herself and deciding what she will and won't allow. But she lets me order her around because on some level, she knows that I've got her. She knows that she's safe with me and that I won't make her do anything she doesn't truly want to do or take more than she's willing to give. She's desperate to put down the burden for a little while and just be Makenzie and I'm the lucky motherfucker she trusts to hold it all up for her.
I have to duck to fit under the showerhead. It's too short, which brings her great pleasure. Every time I have to squat, her smile grows.
"We're getting a new showerhead," I growl.
"I like this one."
"Of course you do."
She squirts some fruity smelling bodywash all over me. "Oops. It slipped."
I back her up against the wall, earning a squeal. "That's cold, Zion!"
"You'll survive." I nip her throat and then her collarbone, slipping my hand between her legs. "If you wanted me to smell like you, all you had to do was ask. I'd have hit my knees lickety-split, angel baby."
"I d-don't," she lies even as she spreads her legs, giving me room to work.
I use it to my advantage, working quickly to get her off. With the water beating down on us, her slippery folds, and the soap, it doesn't take long to drive her right over the edge. She comes with a soft cry that sets my teeth on edge.
How much longer can I keep my dick out of her? It's only been twenty-four hours and it already feels like a lifetime.
I need her to fall soon. Before I lose my fucking mind.
When we pull up in the parking lot of a row of shops a few miles from her house, I almost wish it were another fucking party. Anywhere is better than spending a day at a salon. I know because Ma works at one. Her and her coworkers spend all day doing hair, makeup, and gossiping about shit I'll never be old enough to hear middle-aged women discuss.
It's not my idea of a good time. Matter of fact, I'd rather be waterboarded.
"I'm not fucking going in there," I growl, putting my foot down.
"Well, I'm going in there," Makenzie says, undoing her seat belt. "I have a glam session."
"A what?"
A smile dances at her lips. "Hair, makeup, nails."
I eye her suspiciously. "Why you getting all dolled up, angel baby?"
"We've got somewhere to be tonight, Zion."
"Where?"
"A fundraiser."
"A party."
"I think you need to turn your hearing aid up, because I definitely said a fundraiser," she says. "It doesn't even sound like party."
"Will there be alcohol?"
"Yes?"
"And music?"
"Yes."
"And a lot of fucking people?"
"Yes," she says, drawing the word out like she isn't sure what I'm getting at.
"Will you be looking like a million bucks?"
"Obviously," she sniffs.
"Then it's a party, Makenzie."
"Well, this party is for a good cause and I'm one of their biggest fundraisers this year, so we're going," she says.
"What cause?"
"The Hope House Project. They provide housing for abused women and children. They have emergency shelters in Nashville, Knoxville, and Memphis."
"I'm familiar," I murmur, softening. If she wants to go, I won't tell her no. How the fuck can I when I'm pretty sure she could lead me into hell, and I'd follow with a smile on my face? Fundraisers and parties are the second closest thing to hell as far as I'm concerned, but they're part of her job. It's obvious this one means a lot to her. If she needs to be there, she'll be there. And I'll be standing at her side, supporting and protecting her while she helps the people who need it most.
"Go on and get your hair and makeup done, beautiful. I'll wait out here."
"Okay, but you're going to be waiting a while. It's going to take a miracle to deal with this hair."
"Makenzie." I wait until she looks at me to say anything else. "If you think you need anything to be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, you're wrong. You could go wrapped in a potato sack with your hair exactly like that, and you'd still have every man there wishing they were the lucky motherfucker taking you home."
Her expression softens, her lips parting.
"You're gorgeous exactly like you are. Every goddamn minute of the day."
She bobs her head, her expression full of some soft emotion I'm not sure I know how to name. Adoration? Devotion? The first inklings of love? I'm not sure, but it looks good there. Especially when she's looking at me.
"Get inside, baby. I'll be out here."
"Yes, sir," she says, putting that smart-ass attitude back together like armor.
I've got her number now, though. I know exactly what beats beneath it and why she guards it so fiercely. And there isn't a single part of that soft heart I haven't fallen in love with.
I watch carefully as she dashes inside the little salon, glancing over her shoulder at me before she disappears inside. As soon as she's over the threshold, I dial Madden's number.
"If you're calling to warn me that Taggert is on a rampage, I already know," he says by way of answer. "I've been on the phone with my PI all morning. If he follows through on his threats to press charges, I'll bury him."
My brows climb. "He's threatening to have me arrested?"
"You didn't know?"
"First I've heard of it."
"Ah, well. I guess I have bad news for you then," he says, earning a chuckle from me.
"Tell him to bring it on." I'm not afraid of the piece of shit. I'm not afraid of being arrested for what I said to him yesterday, either. If he wants to play that game, I'll lay all his shit bare in a courtroom. He can explain to a judge and jury exactly how he's been harassing Makenzie for the last year, following her home, threatening her. The son of a bitch put his hands on her.
He won't take that risk, though. We both know he doesn't want that smoke. He's just talking out of his ass because I embarrassed him. All people like him can do when men like me show up is talk. The only thing a bully hates worse than being called on their shit is someone who won't play their games.
"He's saying you threatened to kill him," Madden says.
"Of course he is," I snort, not in the least surprised. He's about as trustworthy as he is decent. "I didn't threaten to kill him. I threatened to feed him his own dick."
Madden's laughter booms down the line.
"Had I known he put his hands on Makenzie, I'd have done more than threatened his sorry ass," I growl. "You left that detail out, Banks."
"Hold the fuck on. He put his goddamn hands on her?"
"Grabbed her by the wrist the day he followed her home."
"That sorry motherfucker," Madden growls.
"You didn't know."
"She left that part out."
I'm not surprised. I'm not thrilled, but I'm not surprised. She's too used to handling everything on her own to willingly bring anyone else into her problems, especially someone she cares about. Olive is her best friend. She wouldn't want to involve her or Madden when Lyle runs in the same circles and could complicate their lives.
"What's the play? I'm not inclined to give this prick another chance to get close to her," I murmur, two eyes on the salon. I can't see shit through the tinted front windows, but I watch anyway.
"Is she going to the fundraiser tonight?"
"Yep."
"Good. Then her name won't be involved," he says, smug satisfaction in his voice. "I'm not giving him another opportunity to come after her. I'm going for his throat. I assume you want in."
"Obviously. He should have kept his goddamn hands to himself."
"I don't suppose I need to tell you that I'll break your fucking arms if you break her heart?" Madden asks, slipping it into conversation casually.
If he were anyone else, I'd tell him to fuck off and mind his business. But he's the closest thing she has to a brother. I appreciate the hell out of him for looking out for her. She deserves that in her life. Especially since I know damn well her mother isn't stepping up to the plate to be the support system she deserves.
"You don't have to tell me," I murmur. "But I appreciate you for saying it anyway."
He falls silent for a minute and then laughs. "Well, son of a bitch. I guess that explains why she stopped texting me the middle finger emoji yesterday afternoon."
"She was texting you the middle finger emoji?"
"All morning long."
I throw my head back, laughing loudly.
"What do you want?" Zayne grumbles into the phone fifteen minutes later. "I'm busy."
"Stalking Emma doesn't count as an item on a to do list, motherfucker."
"I'm not stalking her."
"Since when?" I lift a brow, surprised by this news. Last time we talked, he was sitting outside her house, losing his shit.
"Since Gideon hired me as her bodyguard." He sounds awfully chipper about the situation.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, suddenly wishing I hadn't asked. Or called. Or been born into my crazy ass family to begin with. "I've been gone for twenty-four hours. How the fuck are you two possibly dismantling the entire company already?"
"You have absolutely no faith in either of us, do you?"
"Nope."
"Prick," he says with a laugh. "What do you want? I have a wedding to plan."
"I need to talk to the Zayne who hasn't lost his mind. Can you let him out for five minutes?"
"I haven't lost my mind. I think I've only just found it," he mutters. "But yeah, whatever. What's up, brother?"
"Lyle Taggert is threatening to have me arrested."
"For fucking what?"
"Apparently, he didn't like it when I told him I'd feed him his own dick."
"You think he'd be used to the taste of his own bodily fluid by now. He's had his head up his own ass for long enough. You worried he's actually going to follow through?"
"After tonight? Maybe." I drum my hands on the steering wheel. "Madden and I are going to destroy his world. Madden's releasing all the dirt he dug up on him."
"He'll love that. What do you need?"
"If he has me arrested, I need your guarantee that you'll be on Makenzie's doorstep the second I'm in cuffs. He's already put his hands on her once."
"Jesus Christ," Zayne growls.
"If he touches her again, I'll kill him."
My older brother goes completely silent before muttering a low curse.
"So it's like that?" he asks.
"It's precisely like that. She's mine." I'm not going to deny it. I don't give a fuck about our rules or what we promised. This is bigger than that. She's more important than that. And right about now, I'm thinking Zayne and Gideon both know exactly how I feel. Zayne's lost it for Emma, and Gideon's already sleeping with Kenna. Not a single one of us can point the finger without pointing four others in our own faces.
"Ma is going to lose her mind."
That makes me smile. Ma is going to lose her mind. She's all but given up on us giving her grandbabies. Hell, I think she's given up on us ever giving her the daughters she always wanted. She got saddled with the three of us, and Lord knows, we haven't made it easy. But she's going to love Makenzie. And Makenzie will love her. She deserves Ma in her life.
"Just promise you'll be on her doorstep the minute they put me in cuffs if he decides to lash out once the shit hits the fan."
"I'll be there," Zayne vows. He may be driving me up the fucking wall lately, but one thing Zayne doesn't do is break a promise. He'll protect my girl with his life if that's what it takes.
I just hope like hell the little voice whispering that this is necessary is wrong for once in my life. Because if Lyle comes after Makenzie again, I'm not sure I won't kill him anyway.