Chapter 25
Mia Walker: Let me know you’re ok.
Chloe: All good, sorry to dip out like that.
Mia Walker: Don’t worry about it! Drinks soon?
CHLOE
My body feels limp, like I’ve run a marathon and have nothing left to give.
Zeke’s strong arms hold me up against him, which is a good thing too, because I’m pretty sure my legs don’t work right now.
Wow. Just wow. That was life-changingly good.
Unfairly good. Zeke Guerra earns every drop of ego, every ounce of confidence. He’s a certifiable god.
“Me has arruinado por nadie más, mi fuego.” He sighs, his warm breath blowing a strand of hair across my neck.
“Yep, still don’t speak Spanish,” I reply breathily as I drop my head back against his chest and close my eyes.
He chuckles, removing his head from my neck.
“Look at me,” he orders quietly, and I tip my head back down.
My head feels fuzzy, like he’s fucked the brain cells right out of me and left nothing but a golden haze of satisfaction.
“You are incredible.” His eyes burn in the reflection as they capture mine and his fingers slide my hair over my shoulder to bare my neck.
“Perfección.” Now that one I can figure out, and a blush pulls into my already flushed cheeks.
“I love it when your skin does this.” He runs his nose from my ear to my cheekbone, kissing me softly there.
It’s heartachingly sweet and through my jumble of disarrayed emotions, one jolts through with alarming clarity.
Fear. Fear because I’m already in too deep with this man to walk away unscathed.
Fear because despite whatever this is, it can never be enough for him to want to give up his freedom.
Fear because sex this good is dangerous when the other person doesn’t want to keep you.
“Zeke, we shouldn’t…this isn’t a good idea,” I settle on, my heart tightening in my chest as I watch him. He’s relaxed and devastatingly beautiful in this moment, his skin flushed ever so subtly around his chiseled cheekbones, his eyes warm and lazy.
“Hmm, it certainly felt like a good idea. Three good ideas, in fact,” he teases as he rubs his stubbled chin over my shoulder.
A shiver runs through me and surprisingly, considering how utterly spent I am, a flicker of desire sparks back to life.
He’s still hard, wedged tightly inside me, and I squirm a little.
“Keep doing that, and we’ll make it four good ideas,” he warns with a swift bite to my shoulder.
I suck in a sharp breath and wince as my body clenches without my permission.
He groans, fixing me with a pained look in the mirror, flexing his hips gently.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t good, just that we shouldn’t do it again,” I counter softly, lifting my hand to trace his sharp jawline with my fingertips.
“Why?” His voice is gravelly now and some of the astute sharpness filters slowly back into his gaze.
I consider my answer for a moment. “Because you only have so much of yourself you’re willing to give, and that will never be enough for me.
” It’s so brutally honest that I almost grimace as the words hang heavy in the air around us.
The silence bleeds into long, protracted moments as our eyes battle.
I refuse to back down on this, because my heart is at stake.
I can’t give him what he wants, and he can’t give me what I would accept from any man in my life.
Ergo, we should leave it where it is. He blows out a deep breath and pulls himself gently out.
I wince, feeling how sore I’m going to be tomorrow already.
“Are you okay?” he asks tensely, his brows furrowed as he measures my reaction.
“I’ll be fine.” I wave him off.
He narrows his eyes, his arms still wrapped tight around my body.
“Let me at least take care of you tonight. Come tomorrow, I’ll respect whatever decision you make.
” Warmth blooms uninvited in my chest, the allure of his offer stronger than it should be.
One night of reckless abandon with Zeke Guerra.
My eyes trace my smeared lipstick and sex mussed hair as I consider.
Cringing internally, I try to smooth the ruffled strands of hair back behind my ears.
I’m a mess. “Stop,” he says darkly, one hand rising to capture my wrist and pull it away.
I blink up at him in confusion. “I want you this way,” is all he replies.
I raise one brow, assessing his gaze. “You get a kick out of me looking messy?” A wickedly devilish smile splits his handsome face, and he shrugs one capped shoulder.
I roll my eyes and shake my head, my eyes catching on the deep, red welts my nails have carved in the tawny skin on his shoulder as the movement catches the overhead lights.
“Looks like I messed you up pretty good too,” I muse, and he follows my gaze. His grin gets even wider.
“Get a kick out of that, also.” His admission makes me laugh, some of the tension between us settling as we slip back into our usual banter.
“Just put everything aside tonight, Chloe.” He’s suddenly serious, tucking my head beneath his chin.
“One night, at least.” A beat passes and then I nod, giving in to the pull I feel toward him.
I realize I want him to care for me, and that scares me.
But I can allow one night. “Good.” He’s suddenly businesslike again. “Think you can stand?”
It suddenly hits me from the sparkle in his eyes that’s he’s known my legs have given way this entire time, and he’s been holding me to allow me to recover. I scoff and roll my eyes. “You’re good, but you’re not that good, Guerra.”
His responding chuckle is like warm honey poured down my spine, like my body has been programmed to react to his. “If you say so, baby. But all the same.” He lifts me in his arms, turning me around and perching me on the edge of the vanity like I weigh nothing more than a china doll.
We both look at my shredded clothes on the floor and I let out an incredulous laugh.
How had I not considered before now how we were going to get out of here without my clothes?
“Hmm, my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders with that one, I’ll admit.
” Zeke sucks his teeth contemplatively, making me laugh again.
His honeyed chuckle joins mine and he bends to scoop his suit jacket from the floor, holding it out for me to slip my arms into.
Once it’s wrapped tightly around me, he grabs his shirt and shrugs it on.
The buttons are missing, so it hangs loosely at his sides, framing the hard muscles of his body.
Once he’s tucked his alarmingly large, still hard cock away, and his pants are zipped, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hits speed dial.
Holding it to his ear, he leans one hand on the counter, hovering over me.
His eyes dip to my lips as he waits, brushing them gently with his own.
“Bates, I need you to head around the back.” He pauses and I can hear the faint murmur of a reply. “If anyone questions you, just tell them Miss Devlin isn’t feeling well.”
“Me?” I mouth innocently with a smile, pointing a finger at myself. He places a finger to my lips. I feel distinctly well, as it goes. Better than I have in months, maybe even years. Zeke Guerra ate and left no fucking crumbs.
“Okay,” he says and hangs up the phone.
“Zeke…we’re going to look insanely obvious going out there like this.” I snigger, gesturing to the both of us.
“Let me worry about that.” He bends and collects the tattered remains of my clothes and I decide to do just that.
“You’re the boss.” I sigh and then yelp as he swiftly catches me beneath the knees and scoops me up into his arms. He’s so much bigger than me that his suit jacket hits my mid-thigh, and even held like this, I’m fully covered.
My fingers nestle into the hair at the back of his head as I grip my arms around him.
He jostles the handle and cracks the door open, inclining one ear to listen for anyone close by.
We didn’t even lock the door. I giggle and bury my head in his neck when I hear the muted strains of the guests and music drift in from down the hall, getting a heady hit of his pine and musk scent right from the source.
“Quiet,” he warns, gripping me tighter to him as he slips out of the bathroom. We walk silently toward the back of the house, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Peeking out from beneath my hair, I’m relieved to see the way is deserted.
“I feel like a naughty teenager sneaking out at night,” I whisper, stifling another snicker.
“Me too, but I’d rather no one else see you like this.” He growls, but I can tell he’s smiling.
“Freshly fucked and messy?” I joke, holding my breath as he cracks open another door which seems to lead to a large kitchen.
“Freshly fucked and perfect,” he throws back swiftly, making my breath catch in my throat.
Sometimes the things he says catch me so unawares.
It’s like they are the words of a different man.
One who has a heart to give. I open my mouth to reply but freeze when I feel him stiffen.
I bury my head instinctively, feeling the scruff of his jaw on my brow.
“Mr. Guerra!” It’s a female voice I don’t recognize.
“My fiancée isn’t feeling well, is there a back way out?” he says stiffly, his fingers digging into my waist.
“Y-yes of course, but can I do anything for you, sir?” I sneak a peek through my hair and see a middle-aged woman looking apprehensive in a server's uniform.
“Just the way out.”