CAPTOR (The Alpha Brotherhood) (Standalone Dark Billionaire New Adult Romance) (23 page)

“I really do talk too much when I’m drunk, don’t I?”

“You’re an open book.”

“Shit.”

“So is fixing her fucked up arm the last step?”

“The last step?”

“When will life go back to normal?”

He doesn’t get it. Why would he? “This is the new normal.”

His face contorts in confusion. “Wait so… You’re keeping her?”

“Of course.”

“Why?” His question is laced with a touch of contempt. “I mean, she’s beautiful, but… Why?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Maddox, you know that rule about not seeing anyone seriously while you’re my apprentice?”

“Yes.”

“You have my permission to break it.”

“Is this a test?”

“No.”

“I don’t think you can… I mean, technically the old man has me by the balls, not you.”

“Don’t worry about that. I suggest you break it sooner rather than later.”

His nose wrinkles. “Why the fuck would I do that? So I can end up like you?” he says defensively.

“No. So you don’t end up like me.”

“She’s really in your head, isn’t she? Don’t you see what this is doing to you? Your life is falling apart.”

“No, it’s falling together. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“Oh, I play. That’s what women are for. How the hell did this one make you forget that?”

“Life is more than a financial report,” I explain.

“I realize that,” he replies sharply.

Maddox keeps up a good act. But if he was as cold as he appeared, he wouldn’t have come here to check on me. He wouldn’t travel to China to ensure our factories aren’t breaking any environmental and human rights laws even though there’d be no consequences whatsoever. He wouldn’t have pressed Adam to extend our paid parental leave policy to fathers. All those charitable contributions he’s initiated are more than public relations campaigns, but that was a good cover. And he wouldn’t hate our military contracts so much he loses himself in a pile of pussy and pills every time we improve a drone or produce a better bomb. He’s got a bigger conscience than I ever did, and there’s an albatross of guilt around his neck that gets heavier every day. How he slipped past the old man eludes me.

“I know you do,” I say quietly after an awkward silence. “Zoey isn’t an act of altruism. Keeping her is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, and not for my dick.”

“So, what? She makes you happy?” he scoffs, rising to his feet and glaring at me.

“Yes.”

“And why the fuck do you think we deserve that?”

Maddox doesn’t give me a chance to respond to his contempt. His question echoes in my ears, I’ve pondered the same thing. Happiness. Once you get a taste of it, the self-hatred isn’t enough to keep you away from it. I hope he understands that one day.

Zoey’s lips are pale when she gets out of surgery. It’s an eternity before she wakes up, but the doctors say it went perfectly. All she needs now is rest and good nutrition. The best food in the world I’ll be able to provide easily. Rest is another issue entirely.

Shane

“Oh, come on,” she coos into my ear. “You know you want to.”

Is she joking? I haven’t fucked her in three days. I definitely want to. “I’m fine, Z.”

She pouts at me, almost comically, that bottom lip I love to bite sticking out to tempt me. I shake my head no. I’ve resolved to give her at least a week to heal, I should be capable of that. Zoey flips over in my arms, arching her back to press that delicious rear end into my groin.

My hips buck forward automatically, my hand grabbing onto her hip to pull her closer. “Talk about hitting below the belt,” I rasp. Dry humping. Really? What is this, high school?

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to?” Actually, it never has. How do I phrase that without sounding antiquated? “Wow,” Z says in my moment of hesitation. “You’ve never even thought of that, have you?” Shit. I don’t want to lie to her. “Oh, my God,” she exclaims.

I exhale in a frustrated groan when she flips back over. “Alright, I never thought about it,” I admit.

“You never considered the idea that I might actually want sex?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You obviously want it. It’s just in my experience,” I start, but the outrage on her face morphs into jealousy. “What? I’m seven years older than you are. And I’m a man. There wasn’t exactly a reason to save myself.”

That was clearly not the right thing to say. Her mouth drops open as her eyes narrow. “So in your extensive experience what?”

At first, I don’t want to patronize her by saying extensive isn’t the right word because it is, at least as far as the numbers go. But really, it was a rather narrow slice of the spectrum of human sexual relations. “I’ve never been in an actual relationship with anyone else,” I confess. “So in my limited experience, female sexuality is purely reactive.”

“Purely reactive? As in, no sex drive?”

Well, that doesn’t sound quite right. “I don’t know. I’ve never pondered the issue, okay?”

“You never wondered if I was actually horny before you fucked me?”

“Not really.” I sound like an asshole. I suppose I am.

“So, wait a second. A woman has never initiated sex with you?” she asks. My shocked laughter answers her question. “Because they’re usually all tied up, waiting for you to use them.”

“Zoey, I…”

“I’m not judging. You know I like the straps and chains. But you can’t use those now, can you?” she teases me, her voice deliberately flirtatious. “For six whole weeks and then some.”

“You are more than a hole to fuck,” That came out crudely. She rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a triumphant smile. “I told you. I can wait.”

“But what if I can’t?” She bats her eyelashes at me and licks her lips. Huh. “What if I need you?” she says seductively. “What if I’m constantly thinking about what you’re hiding under your clothes?”

“Are you?”

“Maybe,” she taunts me.

Her eyes stayed glued with mine as her hand lifts my shirt, her fingers dragging across the muscles on my stomach. They travel lower beneath my waistband until they’re wrapped around my dick. A curiously vulnerable noise exits my throat when she strokes me, inspiring a mischievous grin on her beautiful face.

“Roll over,” she says. My eyebrows raise in surprise. I don’t take orders, I give them. “Please,” she adds.

“That’s more like it.”

“Just check your ego and take your pants off, Shane,” Z replies with a laugh.

“Watch it,” I tell her, but my tone isn’t nearly as commanding as it should be.

“Ditch the shirt, too.”

I’ll never admit it out loud, but this is kind of hot. Instead I decide to tell her to go first, but she’s already on her knees pulling that tank top over her head. It’s made of sheer blue fabric that I swear she wore just to drive me insane because her nipples show through. Strands of her disheveled dark hair fly around her head as her tits bounce free. I grab at them automatically, but she coyly shakes her head no and backs away. I tilt my chin up, giving her a look that usually makes her comply, but she pouts again and holds up her cast. Brat.

Lust creeps across her face when I remove my shirt as she requested. Her eyes don’t stay with mine, locking onto my chest and stomach instead. She lets out a little moan, the same kind she makes when she eats that greasy Chicago food she loves so much.

My stomach flops around like a fish and my cheeks are warm when the muscles beneath them pinch as I smile. This is an unfamiliar response, I don’t have a name for it. I can’t bring myself to disrobe entirely until I see her naked, but pants truly do seem unnecessary at the moment. Z bites her lip and slides her fingers between her legs as I expose myself.

“I’ve never been on top before,” she murmurs, like it’s a question.

“Does that mean you want to?” I ask. Holy fuck, I hope she says yes.

“Yeah.” Zoey covers her mouth as she blushes. “For a while now.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Because you’re always being… you.”

“Right,” I whisper.

A heart beat later my true self surfaces. I lunge upwards, making sure to slow down once I have my hands on her, supporting her weight more than usual as I flip her on her back. “Shane…” My name exits her lips in an admonishing tone, but ends in a groan as my face dives between her legs.

This is who I am. I have no desire to change, not that it’s actually possible at this point. Plus the taste of her pussy is irresistibly complex, like a fine wine. Sweet. Salty. A hint of floral. I’ve tasted a few women out of curiosity or reward, but never wanted more. Zoey’s the only one that I crave. Her thighs come together and the soft flesh covers my ears, muffling her squeaks and moans. I pull my mouth away well before she gets to the brink. I love to see her panting in frustration.

But my eyes lock onto the cast on her wrist instead. It’s light green, the closest we could get to her favorite color. She pretended that it irritated her when she woke up and saw it, saying it made her look like a kid, but I could tell she liked it. I autographed it, too. It extends all the way down to her fingers. Poor Z can’t even move those and says it itches like crazy. She’ll endure that and the uncertainty for six weeks.

Zoey is looking at me quizzically when I come back down to earth. Her legs are spread before me, waiting for me to take what I want, to ravage her body like I usually do.

“What?” I say, shaking off my worry for her. “I just wanted to get you wet first.”

An excited smile brightens her face as I lay back down. It will be a few months until I can risk restraining her. Vanilla sex is the only thing on the menu for a while. My throat tightens as she glances down at my hand wrapped around my dick for a moment, like it intimidates her. It doesn’t take me long to realize that it’s the process of mounting me without the use of both arms that’s the problem. She giggles when I help her stay upright as she balances on one knee. I don’t usually have the pleasure of hearing her musical laughter when we fuck. Perhaps this change of pace won’t be that boring after all.

I stifle as gasp as her heat envelops me, but Zoey’s pleasurable groan rolls off her tongue without hesitation. Her eyes widen as she sinks lower, each breath getting shorter and shorter as she finds her rhythm.

Her bouncing tits would be the best part of the view if it weren’t for the look on her face. This girl didn’t have a sexuality before I got a hold of her. It’s rather captivating to watch it unfettered and free. I buck upwards sharply, surprising her. My fingers are drawn to those puckered nipples like a magnet. She leans forward, filling my hands with her breasts as she rest her weight on me. Every pinch just makes her ride me harder.

Z tosses her head back and I make the mistake of looking down at her hips grinding on top of mine. The exaggerated curve of her ass is so tempting. I can’t resist, I need a squeeze. She groans when my hands leave her breasts, her body tumbling down until they’re in my face and I capture one in my mouth. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her rear, pushing it down as the urge to thrust overwhelms me.

She only has one arm to support her weight, and it’s giving out. I know this particular set of moans well, and it will soon morph into that telltale halted breathing before she comes. I savor her until the very last moment, catching her as she falls forward. Clenching my jaw, I hold still and try to resist, but the moment her nipples press into my palms I can’t stop myself.

She follows me over the edge with a screech as she spasms around me. I’ve never been motionless enough to truly revel in that sensation before. I want to feel it again when I’m not so distracted with my own release, see her body rocking back and forth on me again, watch her face contort as she pleases herself.

Z’s face is inches from mine. Her climax lasts longer and I get the pleasure of watching her writhe and grit her teeth until her jaw falls open. That’s when I sit up and kiss her, cradling her trembling body in my arms as I linger inside of her. The edge of her cast scrapes across my shoulder when she returns to her senses and clings to me.

Carnal satisfaction aside, that’s always been my favorite part of fucking Zoey. Five seconds after she’s done coming, she’s thrashing in her restraints to hug me. I never leave her there, the sensation of her clutching me like a life raft in a raging ocean is the best feeling in the world. Her grasp is surprisingly strong and she holds on so hard for such a long time. It sends sparks tingling through my entire body until I disappear into her.

Her cheek rests on my collarbone as her arms go lax and I phase back into reality. I’m almost ready to shift out from beneath her when she grabs onto me again. This time her body is tense as she shudders and she chokes out a sob.

My heart pumps faster as it leaps into my throat. “Zoey?”

“I’m alright.” She resists when I try to pull away to check on her. “Really. Just crying after sex like a chick, I guess.”

“You are a chick,” I laugh.

“Don’t rub it in. This is embarrassing enough as it is.”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed around me.” My voice is a little shaky. I’ve had women cry after sex with me before, but never because they were overwhelmed with positive emotions. “I love you, Z.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers. My heart sputters in my chest every time she says it. She finally pulls her head out from under my chin, wiping her eyes with an endearing sniffle. “Okay, let’s—”

I cut her off with a kiss, enjoying the taste of her mouth just as much as I revel in the rest of her. It’s a kiss that leads to another round of passion, the compulsion to climb on top of her and have my fill is too strong to resist.

After I’m through, the urge to care for her, baby her even, is just as enticing. I call Maddox and tell him I won’t be coming in today. He hangs up on me. That was bold. And stupid. Zoey conveniently falls asleep on the couch in my workshop just in time for me to make an appearance at an important meeting, much to my brother’s relief.

I will not tolerate his contempt for her. I have him under my thumb for another year at least and I’ve reluctantly accepted the fact that I will be under hers for the rest of my life. But even after he’s off the leash, he’ll be an integral part of my business life now. We fit together well, perhaps even better than me and Adam. The place would fall apart without him, or rather, take up far too much of my time.

How would normal people approach this conundrum? Spending more time at work is an inevitable necessity, but not until Zoey is on the mend. Should we have him over for dinner or some such nonsense? Maddox is somewhat of a patron of the arts, they’d have a lot to talk about. Perhaps too much. Do I actually want them to hit it off? That could complicate things. He’ll get used to her eventually.

Zoey enjoys watching reality television, though probably less than the average person. I can hardly tolerate the drivel, but since she can’t work with her hands, there’s not much else to do. We’re snuggled up next to each other in bed under the covers. Her head rests on my chest, her injured arm stretched out across my stomach. I tease her about her interest in such a pathetic excuse for entertainment and she pinches my side. Such an ordinary night for two hopelessly abnormal individuals.

Then my phone rings.

“Hello, Adam,” I answer. I usually bark out the word ‘What?’ when he calls. Z really has softened me around the edges.

“We have a huge problem.”

“What?” I grumble. There’s my typical greeting.

“Don’t lose your shit.” Fantastic. “Trent has just been taken into custody. Our best attorney met him at the police station.”

“What the fuck? Why was he arrested?”

“There was a goddamn news crew when they hauled him away. This is a fucking publicity nightmare.”

“What the hell did he do now?”