Authors: Nikki Winter
Nights ago, he’d walked until he was tired, until the sound of his brother crashing through his parents’ coffee table had been enough to drive him to the brink of insanity. Calling a cabbie had been his only option because he could
not
go home and he couldn’t call Zuly. Or at least he felt like he couldn’t. Leaving town to escape his family was a sensible option at the time, and when he’d checked in at the hotel he hadn’t expected the manager–a fellow veteran–to comp his room for a week-long stay, but it had been much appreciated. The first day went by without him touching a drink. As did the second day. By the third, he called himself all kinds of coward as he found a corner store and hauled back a case of beer along with Jack and vodka.
Inevitably guilt from breaking his promise began to gnaw at him. Guilt from his family’s pain. Guilt from the look on Zuly’s face when he left her. What could he do but call? He should’ve known she’d come. She always came.
“You may want to shower,” Zuly suggested mildly as she stood and set down that magazine. “Housekeeping brought by fresh toiletries, and room service should be up with dinner in a bit.” Walking past him as though he weren’t there, she grabbed her jacket and bag. “Ordered something light for you since I wasn’t exactly sure what your stomach may or may not be able to handle.”
She reached the door, opening it, and Fitz moved as fast as possible to close it, pinning her between himself and the heavy wood. “Stay.” It wasn’t a request. Couldn’t have even been called a plea. But something instinctively told him that if he let Zuly walk away from him again, things would change forever in a way that would break his already fractured spirit.
“Give me a reason,” she whispered. “Give me a
good
reason.”
He dropped his forehead to her hair and did something he swore he would
never
do. Fitz admitted the truth. “I need you.”
Silence.
“I need you, Zuly. I can’t help but to feel like something precious is slipping through my fingers right now, and I’m trying to grasp it so if you love me at all–”
“
If
I love you?”
So
that
had been the wrong thing to say if the low growl that left her was any indication.
“Fitzgerald Carrigan, I stand on the rock of my Lord and Savior when I say I am keeping my composure by a miniscule thread, baby,” Zuly continued. “A thread so thin the Fates would only have to pluck it to watch it break.”
A reaction. He was getting a reaction.
Good.
“Love, I am more than willing to take total and complete responsibility for that. I am more than willing to say I am one fucked-up individual right now and that I owe not only my brothers but also my parents
and
you an apology. But what I’m
not
more than willing to do is sit back and allow you to walk out this door. My heart can’t take that, Z. So this is me—” He backed away from her, lowering himself onto his good knee “— begging you to give a dying man another chance. I fully acknowledge that I need
help.
I need a counselor. I need
you.
If you step away from me...I really don’t know how I’ll be able to fix this.” When she slowly turned, he wrapped his arms around her torso and pressed his face to the soft warmth of her belly, remembering the feel of her in his arms right before he’d drifted off into his first dreamless sleep in months. “Don’t leave me,” Fitz murmured.
They’d stood there like that for what felt like hours when gentle hands finally combed through his hair, nails raking against his scalp in a comforting caress that sent a shiver down his spine.
“I wasn’t leaving you, Fitz,” Zuly murmured back. “It’s impossible for me to leave you, in case you haven’t noticed yet.” She cupped his face, making him stare up at her. Brushing his locks back, she added, “I just needed to scare the shit out of you so you’d see reason.”
Fitz’s mouth curled up on the sides at the same time as her own. Then a snort slipped past his lips before a chuckle rumbled up from his chest and rolled out. Zuly squealed as he pulled her to the floor, the both of them landing in a tangle with her on top of his outstretched body.
He ran his fingers down her sides. “That was mean, Z.
Really
mean.”
She gasped for breath, laughing. “But so fucking necessary, you drama queen!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” He popped her on the ass and grinned when she yelped. “There is
nothing
feminine about this beautiful hunk of man meat you have beneath you.”
Zuly blinked. “This conversation ended the moment you decided to use the words
man meat
in a sentence.” Rolling off him, she stood and lent him her hands. “Go shower.”
Lips twitching, he started in that direction before pausing and asking, “Wanna come scrub my back?”
“Oh, no, sir. We’re still on the subject of you confessing your undying love for me, wandering off into a
completely
different city, drinking yourself into possibly needing a new liver and then
drunkenly
calling me.”
“So is that a no or...”
“Fitz. Gerald.”
Wincing, he walked toward the bathroom. “I know that tone.”
“Damn right you do.”
***
“You just saved me from possibly
getting commandeered. I’m not quite sure if I’m grateful or disappointed,” Gabriela stated as she answered her phone.
Zuly snorted as she placed their food on the small dinette table in the suite and waited for Fitz to come out of the bathroom. “I found Fitz.”
There was a pause, then what sounded like a door closing. “Is he all right?”
“As well as can be expected,” Zuly replied. “He was drinking, though.”
Gabriela’s sigh was heartfelt. “He needs a counselor.”
“We’ve come to that conclusion.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “How’s Riley?”
The other woman chuckled. “Sulking.”
“You know Fitz would never–”
“Stop,” Gabriela cut in. “Riley got exactly what he deserved for being a tactless dick in front of everyone and he knows it–which is why he’s been climbing the walls for the last few days. My wonderful husband is a lot more sensitive than he looks. He won’t say it but he’s worried. He was
always
worried.”
“They need to talk.”
“In a room without breakable shit.”
Zuly’s lips curled. “With foam bats and Oprah playing in the background.”
“And a possible cameo from Iyanla.”
Laughing softly now, Gabriela added, “Reality dictates that the most they’ll do is grunt at each other in that extremely awkward way, shrug then go sit down to watch something that involves more grunting and awkward shrugging.”
“Because neither have any idea what to do with actual emotions.”
“I think we should sort of be grateful for that.”
Zuly grimaced as she thought about the damage done to the Carrigans’ coffee table. “We really should.”
“Where’s he at now?”
She cut her eyes toward the bedroom. “Hotel suite shower.”
Silence descended and then, “Zuly...sweetheart...my love...I think your vagina needs to be checked for malfunctions.”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, Zuly stared down at it. “And this conversation just took a turn for the worse.”
“Pumpkin, if you’re on the phone with me instead of playing Sacagawea all over Fitz’s Lewis and Clark...something is terribly wrong here.”
“I’m...I’m hanging up now,” Zuly said softly. “Because we can’t be friends anymore.”
“Are you breaking up with me because you’re bi-curious? Is my loving not enough for you?”
“I simply refuse to continue this. Good day, ma’am.”
“But Zuly–”
“I said good day!” With that she hung up, laughing hard enough to draw a curious stare from Fitz as he finally emerged from the bathroom in a robe, hair wet and curling around his nape.
Humina humina...
“Please tell me your amusement doesn’t have to do with the fact that I may or may not find videos of myself naked, wet, and singing on the Internet,” he said, moving slowly toward the small dinette table to sit.
“On the Internet? No,” Zuly answered. “On one of my many electronic devices?
Mebbe...”
Smirking, he sat back and that damn robe spread, distracting her with all the naked, hard flesh in between. They should be talking, analyzing, working things out, and figuring out the next step. Logic. They needed logic. They did
not
need Zuly carrying out all her adolescent fantasies on him, involving
unholy
acts. They hadn’t even gotten past his not-so-small confession. Or the fact she hadn’t said a word about it.
Or that goddamn kiss! So no, there wouldn’t be any fucking Fitz on the table. Not today—not when she was trying to remain a rational, level-headed individual.
“Zuly.”
She was
not
looking up from her plate. No. Wasn’t gonna happen. Her eyes were exactly where they needed to be–down. And her mind was focused on the goodness of the Lord. So yeah. She was staying out of trouble here.
“Zuly, baby, look at me.”
Why’d he have to do that? Why’d he have to go into SEAL mode where he simply handed out a command and made it sound like her life was dependent on her obedience? Why’d that tone of voice send a pulse thumping in her clit that she could’ve sworn could be heard?
Zuly lifted her head slowly, met those incredibly blue eyes and felt lost.
Fitz pushed his seat back, parted his legs in a move that made her mouth go dry and simply said, “Come. Here.”
Her body moved on his command instead of her own, the low words sending her to her feet and toward him in seconds. When he reached up to pull her down into straddling his lap she knew trouble was most assuredly in her future, and in that moment Zuly found herself thinking,
“Why in the name of all that is holy and righteous have I not done this before?”
Eight
Why in the name of all that is holy and righteous have I not done this before?
Fitz’s hands smoothed up the skirt of Zuly’s sundress, his palms connecting with the bare, buttery skin of her thighs as she came to rest on his lap. The moment the swell of her ass met his groin, his eyes closed. There was something about the curves on a woman’s body that left Fitz breathless. Correction
.
There was something about the curves on
Zuly’s
body that left Fitz breathless.
She’d remained soft in all the right places over time. Her athletic build from years of swimming and hiking had slowly rounded out in a way that caused the sway of her hips to become more pronounced. The rise of her breasts noticeable as she inhaled. The round firmness of her buttocks lust-inspiring. Every part of her made him ache.
His fingertips danced along her uncovered flesh as he slowly made his way around to the ass he’d been watching from the moment he was old enough to understand what arousal was.
“You’re thinking entirely too hard about something that comes as naturally as breathing to me,” Fitz said, placing his forehead to her collarbone. “I’ve wanted you since I began to truly understand what want was. And if you’re not aware by now that you belong to me–mind, body, and spirit–obviously I’m doing something wrong here, baby.”
“You make the most Cro-Magnon, sexist, ridiculous things sound amazing, Fitzgerald Carrigan,” Zuly murmured, not pulling away when he placed a kiss just under her chin. “But it’s quite obvious to me that only
one
of us was aware of the fact that I
allegedly
belong to you, because
I
was just alerted to this nugget of information days ago. And I have to tell you, love, you dropped the big one.”
He smiled up at her. “I’m hearing a lot of things, but what I’m
not
hearing is that you don’t feel the same, Z.”
Her expression couldn’t have gotten haughtier if she tried to make it so. “Perhaps I’m thinking of ways to let you down easy.”
His grin turned into a grimace as he redistributed her weight. Someday his knee felt well enough to rest on, other days it felt as though there were thousands of little needles there. With it still healing, he was caught in a precarious balance to let his body handle the pain naturally and getting help for it.
Zuly went to get up. “You really need to talk to your doctor about finishing that surgery.”
Fitz pulled her back down. “Stop trying to distract me from what we both so obviously want.” With his arms around her waist and his hands gripping her behind, he jerked her against his chest.
She glared down at him. “Your mental and physical health repaired by professionals?”
He smirked. “Poor attempt at pissing me off, Z.”
Her nails dug into his shoulders. “You frustrate me on so many levels.”
“I know, baby.” One hand reached up to firmly grip the nape of her neck, pulling her head down, her lips closer to his own. “I know...” He swallowed whatever it was she was about to say next, taking advantage of the moment she parted her lips to thrust his tongue inside her mouth, parrying it with her own in a dance that had his cock bouncing. How many times had he kicked himself for not doing this years ago? How many times had he fantasized about Zuly, pliant in his arms, just like this? How many more times could he walk away from the temptation that was her mouth, her body?
The answer to that particular question resounded in his head without even a moment’s hesitation.
None.
Fitz’s hands pulled at the straps on Zuly’s dress and bra, tugging them down, until she gripped his wrists and stopped him. The golden orbs he knew so well bore into his own before she softly said, “Let me.”
He swallowed, let go and watched with anticipation as she stood from his lap and shimmied out of the floral cloth shielding her from his view just to stand before him in no more than a demi-bra and
extremely
small lace panties.
“There is a God...and he apparently has some form of mercy for my twisted soul,” Fitz muttered as she resituated herself in his lap, their groins meeting in the slightest of brushes, causing mutual moans of pleasure to emerge from their mouths right before their lips connected once again in the sweetest fusing known to man.