Chapter 29 Sai
Zeek’s on the phone when I flit into his office. His silver gaze cuts to me the second I appear, but I make a show of it anyway, setting today’s coffee on his desk with a slow, exaggerated bow.
“My lord,” I say, voice dripping with mock devotion.
His silver eyes flick to me, then he mouths, fuck you.
I smile, all teeth. “Love you too.”
He rolls his eyes. “Tomorrow morning, Orion. Tell them,” he says into the phone, still not looking away. Then he hangs up, dropping it onto a large stack of paper. “She likes the coffee place, then?”
I slump into the armchair by the window while he rounds his desk, leaning against it.
“Seems so. Why, you thinking of buying that too?” I smirk, and jackpot, silver glare engaged. “I might need to take her somewhere else anyway.”
Zeek frowns. “Why?”
“I don’t like the barista.”
He narrows his gaze. “Why, Sai?”
I shrug. “Don’t like how he looks at her.”
His voice goes all serious. “Sai, what did you do?”
“He couldn’t stop staring at her. So every time he looked.” I raise my fingers, and a crackle of blue weaves between them. “I corrected it.”
Zeek shakes his head but doesn’t scold me, he’s too busy trying to hide the smile creeping in.
Then he straightens up, and his gaze turns a little… wary. “How was she this morning?”
“Man,” I groan, closing my eyes with a wide grin. “She looked good, always does, but this morning?” I let out a low whistle. “Something felt different. Just… more.” I trail off, still smiling. “Maybe the friend zone’s not so bad?”
Zeek huffs a laugh, but adds nothing. Strange. He spends all night next door to our girl and he’s got nothing to say? That’s my cue to dig.
“And how was your night, mate?” I stretch out my legs, hands behind my head, wiggling my brows. “Finally make it to third base with the wall?”
Zeek finally takes a sip of the coffee, nose scrunching from the sugar hit. Not my fault the barista’s hands were shaky as fuck.
“I don’t know what that means, Sai,” he sighs, pulling on his lips like he can scrub off the sweetness.
“Third base?” I lift a brow. “Touching things. Sensitive things.”
He shakes his head with a soft scoff, coffee down and phone back in hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I don’t know, man. Something was in the air last night. Because, fuck, my imagination was running wild.” He’s half-listening, thumbs already tapping—probably sending a sweet little text to our girl.
“I wasn’t even trying to get hard. Just kept hearing these soft little moans…”
Zeek stops mid-text.
“Fuck,” I groan, remembering it. I have no restraint? Should’ve seen me last night. Fucking King Restraint. “It’s like she was right there. Right next to me.”
His eyes meet mine, and stay there.
I frown. “What?”
Zeek stays incredibly still. No response. Just stares.
I rewind what I’ve said. It’s not the first time I’ve had delicious thoughts about Red, but last night, they were so intense. Some didn’t even feel like my own thoughts, a little bit too PG. A little too real. Almost like…
Like it was happening…
Like someone else—
“Fuck off,” bursts out of me.
Zeek’s jaw tenses.
My eyes go wide. “You fucking didn’t.”
He doesn’t move.
“Oh, you fucking did.” I gasp, half-laughing. Then smile nice and slow. “You devious fucking dog.”
He runs a hand through his hair, light and dark strands mussing together, then glances back at his phone, adjusts his glasses, trying to play all coy and innocent.
“It’s not like that,” he mumbles.
Oh, hell no. Fucker isn’t getting away with it that easily.
“You tore strips off me and Julien. And little did we know, you were touching much more than a wall you—”
“I didn’t touch her.” His voice rumbles through mine, almost a snarl.
Oh man, that just makes me grin wider.
He breathes deep, then pockets his phone. “I just… talked her through it... over the phone.”
“Fuck. Ing. Hellllll.” I throw my head back, staring up at the ceiling as I picture it all. Every tiny detail.
The sounds. The moans. The heat.
“I went into her mind,” he murmurs.
I drop my head, delivering a full-on Kane glare. “Zeek…”
“I made her see the three of you.”
My glare dissolves. I swallow. “And?”
He shakes his head, a slow, smug smirk—my smirk—spreading across his face. “That… finished the conversation.”
“Fuck.” I lick my lips.
“And the way she reacted to my words…” he trails off, eyes unfocused as he relives it.
I stare back up at the ceiling, gritting my teeth. “Fucking stop it, man.”
“She told me to keep our conversation between us.”
I face him again. “Well, I heard it loud and fucking clear. And if I did… Shit.”
He swallows. “Has Julien said anything?”
“No, but maybe he didn’t realise. Kane?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck. I’ll have to tell her.”
I grimace, glad it’s his dilemma and not mine. “Well, good luck with that, mate. I’m sure she’ll be calm and reasonable.”
He bites his tongue, most likely holding back an insult. But he’s only got himself to blame. If he can’t handle the fire, he needs to back off and let me. I’ll burn alive just to hear more of those sounds.
“Y’know…” I lower my voice into something conspiratorial. “Seeing as I already heard the trailer, you might as well let me have the full film—”
“Fuck off.” He doesn’t even look at me, just grabs the wad of paper on his desk and starts riffling through it.
I sigh. “Can’t blame me for trying.” Then mutter, “Killjoy.”
He shakes his head, his lips twitching in that don’t-make-me-laugh way as he keeps flicking through.
“What’s with that anyway?” I nod to his hands. “Tablet finally rebel?”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much paper on his desk before. Zeek likes everything neat and tiny, or stored away electronically, like the good little geek he is. So this is either important, or he’s going to give it to someone.
Better not be me, fuck reading all that.
“A contract.” He reads over a page like I’m not even there. But that little brush-off is a screaming invitation for me.
I push off the chair and stroll over. “Oh yeah? Who for?”
He smirks as I get closer, and I realise he’s played me, reeled me in. If I were a cat, I’d be nine lives gone already; curiosity is my damn weakness.
“Jasmine.”
And she’s my other one.
But now I’m stuck between being disturbed and mildly impressed because Zeek’s made a contract. For Red.
“Mate, I know you’re into control and all that.” I eye the thick stack nervously. “But I don’t think this is gonna help—”
“She requested it.”
Well lube me up and call me a dildo, ‘cause that’s how stock-still and hard those words make me.
“Fuck off.” I shove his shoulder, but he doesn’t even budge, boulder-shouldered bastard. “When? Last night? While you were…” I groan, dragging a hand over my face. “No. Stop. Don’t say a word.”
Because I’m already imagining it. I know what Red can be like in those moments. Bossy and breathless. Bargaining like sin’s currency.
“Julien helped create it.”
“Fucking when?” Julien’s been out of the Pit two days, two days, and he’s ghost-writing dom contracts for Zeek?
“Sent it through this morning.”
I bark a laugh. “You’re unreal, man.”
Zeek frowns, then finally looks up.
“You’re all about patience and restraint, getting her to trust us, and then you’re talking dirty in her ear and drafting up a sex contract.”
He opens his mouth, tries once to say something, fails, then clears his throat. “Sai, this is an employee contract.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” I scoff. “Nah mate, I’m putting my foot down, you’re gonna push her away. We need to vote on this, I’m calling Kane—”
“No, Sai, wait, listen”—and the fucker has the gall to laugh—“she’s asked to work with Kacey. Officially. She wants an employee contract, like the ones we all have. The same kind I had to force you to sign because, and I quote, ‘I’m not becoming your slave, Zeek.’”
I frown, brain grinding to a halt. “So this isn’t a sex contract?”
“Sai.” Now he scoffs, brows lifting. “You think I do that type of thing?”
“Yeah, I kinda do. I know we don’t talk about our sex lives, but I fully believe you make them sign contracts on that.” I look at his tablet, tilting my head. “Wouldn’t mind seeing one if I’m honest.”
Zeek shakes his head, laughing while muttering, “This man…”
“Wait.” My brain finally catches up. “Why does she want it?”
He exhales, leaning back against the desk, arms folding.
“She wants independence,” he begins, humour gone.
“She wants something with her name on it, to earn her own money, to have something that’s hers.
She’s never even had a bank account, Sai.
” His voice tightens, brows creasing. “I don’t even know if they were paying her, or just giving her a room and the bare necessities.
Never any excess to use for herself. You remember what Julien said? About how she reacted to the clothes?”
My jaw tightens. “Yeah, I remember.”
He said she cherished them. He told us how she’d slept on the floor, but wouldn’t let them touch it. Like they were more valuable than her.
“And the pastries?” he adds.
How she’d never had chocolate ones before. Fuck. I was too busy admiring her mouth to remember that one.
When the shadows twitch, I realise we’re stepping into dangerous territory. That tight, burning feeling of anger building inside us both.
“She doesn’t even have a second name,” he bites, eyes locked with mine, and the room darkens. “They could’ve given her anyone’s, but instead they kept her blank. Like she wasn’t worth carrying it…” His teeth grind, and I realise I’m doing the same, everything inside me tense.
How long had Zeek been brewing on these thoughts? Since I told them about her name? Since she asked for the contract? Longer? And what other things hadn’t she had? What else had we missed?
We look at each other, see the rage, but when I take a deep breath and hold, he copies. We breathe out together, and the shadows slowly withdraw.
“I want us to give her everything she’s never had,” he vows. “But I also want her to feel like her own person.”