Chapter 63
Chapter Sixty-Three
Zac
Iend up staring at Emilia for at least an hour before the sun breaks through the thin curtains of our bedroom.
I don’t mean to, not at first. But since waking, I can’t tear my eyes away.
She sleeps curled beneath the covers, but I’m sprawled above them, the heat in this room too stifling for me to deal with them.
Her pink nightie has bunched up, the strap hanging off her shoulder, fabric gathering in her cleavage as she lies on her side facing me. Her lips are parted, lashes brushing her cheeks, expression relaxed.
She’s almost ethereal in every way. Her body, her face, her fucking hair; everything about her has me absolutely fucking mesmerised. She’s unreal.
And yet she’s right there. Close enough that if I reach out, my fingers would slide through her long, glossy hair, or skim the soft curve of her waist.
My obsession is fucking infuriating.
Ever since that night when she gave me the best head of my entire fucking life, we’ve slept in the same bed.
Not for sex, just because it’s the best option for both of us, the only place we both get some sleep, and somehow along the way, it’s started to feel like the most natural thing in the world.
Although, this morning when I woke, I found my arm draped over her waist, our noses inches apart, facing one another.
For a second, I stayed there, taking in the faint freckle above her lip and on her temple.
I relished the feel of her warm, soft skin beneath my hand where her nightie had drifted up, resisting the urge to lift the fucking duvet to see more.
She didn’t stir.
And reluctantly, I’d moved back, removing my arm and returning to my side of the bed as she slept. After everything she went through yesterday, she deserves every last second of rest she can get.
I woke early, unable to sleep as memories of Killmoor plagued my mind. The walls. The screams. The pain. Visions of Kayla going through the same thing—what they did, what they said, what they took.
And now she’s lost Jace.
And killed an Enforcer.
I’ll give it to her; I never would’ve imagined her as someone who had a fire like that within.
But then, from what Emilia told me, I’m not sure it was strength as much as it was automatic, drunk, animal instinct.
And I don’t know what that means for us.
The State will tear the city apart looking for her.
I’m going to head to the Safe House today and watch the footage for myself. Kieran swears Emilia did everything she could to keep her identity hidden, but it’s not enough. I need to see it—to check with my own eyes.
Hopefully, it’ll help ease the panic that claws at my chest whenever I look at her sleeping peacefully beside me. Her blonde hair fanning over the green pillow. Her stupidly bright blue eyes. Her tits.
Fuck.
Emilia’s brow creases, and her eyes flicker beneath her eyelids.
Slowly, her lashes lift.
I tear my gaze away before she catches me staring like a fucking idiot, fixing my eyes on the wardrobe across the room as if it’s the most fascinating piece of furniture I’ve ever seen.
“Were you staring at me?” Her sleepy tone is dopey, raspy, and utterly addictive. My cock stiffens at the sound.
“Fuck no,” I say, voice harsh.
She just hums, rolling onto her back before digging her elbows into the pillow and shifting up to lean against the headboard. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying—”
“If you’re going to start being weird about this, maybe you need to return to the sofa—”
“Good luck with that, blondie. I told you, this bed is way too comfy for me to give it up,” I say.
She shifts sideways, damn eyes like a cerulean sea. “Then I’ll take the sofa.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
A hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Careful, Hastings. If anyone hears you, they’ll think you like sharing a bed with me.”
“They’d be wrong,” I mutter, eyes fluttering closed as I let my head fall back against the headboard.
The mattress dips as she shifts beside me. The room is quiet, just the faint chirping of birds filtering through the thin windows. She exhales, soft and sleepy. Then again. And then…
“What you said the other day… about not having had sex with anyone…” Her voice breaks through the silence, slamming into me as if she’d yelled it.
“Yeah?” I mutter, voice hoarse as my eyes open.
I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
She tugs her lower lip between her teeth, eyes on the duvet that covers her ample chest. “Was it true?” she asks quietly.
“I’m not a liar, Emilia.”
“I… Okay… Then why not?”
I shrug. “Is it that hard to believe?”
“Yes!” she exclaims, louder now. “Look at you. Plus… I mean, Anna—”
“Anna and I have always just been a distraction for one another,” I tell her.
Emilia frowns. “Does she know that?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
“Call me a liar one more time—”
She kicks off the duvet, moving to leave the bed, eyes twinkling. “Liar!”
I don’t think, rolling over in one sharp motion.
She lets out a startled squeal as my hands close around her waist and I drag her down until she’s beneath me, spine sinking into the mattress.
My body cages hers, knees braced on either side of her thighs, one hand pinning her wrist above her head, the other gripping her hip, trapping her in place.
Her nightie rides up, higher than it did through the night. It sits just below her chest, exposing a vast expanse of pearly white skin that never sees the sun. She has a vicious thick scar that runs across her ribs. Another along her hip, dipping below her hot pink thong.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Her chest rises sharply, like she’s forgotten how to breathe.
And I’m utterly fucked the second I look at her eyes.
They’re wide. Defiant. Lit with something hot and curious and angry and lustful all at once.
Between her legs, my already stiff cock hardens beyond belief. She swallows, lips parting, a half gasp, half moan spilling out. It shoots straight to my cock, igniting everything I should be ignoring.
“What you gonna do?” Emilia murmurs, eyes dropping to where my clothed cock rests between her legs. Suddenly, I wish I wasn’t wearing ridiculous fucking pyjama shorts. “Show me how you and Anna distract one another?”
My body moves without thinking, roughly grinding my length into her. Her head slams back against the pillow, lips parting once more.
“No,” I murmur. “I’d show you more than that.”
The tension stretches between us, tighter and tighter until I know that one wrong move and it’ll snap.
She lifts her head, eyes darting towards my lips before they lift, meeting mine. “Prove it,” she whispers.
I groan softly, leaning in, but something tightens in my chest. The faint glow from the rising sun creeping through the curtains hits my face, reminding me of the time. The responsibilities, the panic, the normalcy we have to cling to.
“Mmmmm,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers.
Every muscle in me fucking begs me to cross the line, to lose myself in her entirely, to fuck her until mine’s the only name she can ever utter again.
Reluctantly, I force myself back, just a fraction.
“Get through a day at work without getting into trouble, and I will.”
She tilts her head, eyes flickering with teasing fire. “No trouble? You’ll be lucky.”
“Fucking liability,” I murmur.
“Whatever.”
Scoffing at her, I roll away, letting go of her wrist before reaching down to rearrange myself.
Her eyes follow, the teasing glint in them growing before she sits up, throwing her legs over the side and standing.
She lifts her arms high over her head and stretches.
The scrap of nightie slides up, revealing the bottom of her round cheeks, and I tear my gaze away, jaw tightening.
“In all seriousness, Emilia,” I say, voice hoarse. “Be extra cautious today. Do whatever they say. Stay out of trouble.”
She hums, yanking a pair of jeans out of the wardrobe. “I will.”
“Emilia,” I mutter, tone laced with warning.
“I will. Promise.”
I catch a flicker of darkness cross her eyes. Worry. Panic. Fear. Without thinking, I stand from the bed and move to her side.
“Hey, look at me,” I say, cupping her face and forcing her to meet my gaze. “You’re going to be fine. They don’t have a fucking clue what happened to Kayla. And I’ll go check on her at the Safe House this morning. My shift doesn’t start until three.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “Thanks.”
Slowly, I let go and retreat to the bed. “Remember that fire within you,” I say, pointing to the ink on her leg, just before she tugs her jeans up.
She playfully rolls her eyes, but smiles and nods. We don’t talk much more before she heads out of the room. I hear the front door closing behind her only minutes later.
I pull on my jeans, a long-sleeve top, and my leather jacket.
In the kitchen, I grab a couple of biscuits from the cupboard, biting into one as I leave the house behind.
The street is empty, almost too quiet, with no sign of any Enforcers.
I quickly start walking, boots thudding against the pavement as I head through the familiar streets and then the alleyway.
Within ten minutes, I’m stepping through the door of the Safe House, bolting it shut behind me, metal clanging loudly.
I move into the drawing room, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair.
My mind is already focused on Kayla, on Emilia, on the footage, so when something shifts further down the room, I jump out of my fucking skin.
I didn’t realise anyone else was in here.
A knotted head of brunette hair appears over the couch, tired eyes blinking wearily at me.
“Anna?” I say, surprised.
Her eyes are bloodshot, her face pale—I don’t think I’ve seen her like this since Gia disappeared.
“Thank fucking god,” she mutters. “I have to leave for work in half an hour, and I really didn’t know what to do if no one returned.” She stumbles to her feet, nearly falling over the coffee table before reaching up and running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
“You been here all night?”