Page 86 of Fractured Fear

The kiss is barely there, but butterflies still take flight in my stomach. He lightly moves his soft lips over mine. When I finally move my mouth in time with his, a groan echoes in his throat. I grip his waist and pull him closer.

Our kiss turns into a dance. He leads and I happily follow. Giving up control has never made me feel so safe.

His tongue swipes across my lips, seeking entry. I ravenously open my mouth to give him access. Our kiss gets hotter as his teeth clamp my lower lip and scrape over it. I grip his shoulders, and I feel my slick desire start to slide down my inner thigh. One of his hands trails down my back and grips my bare ass while the other slides down the front of my body. He flattens his hand over my chest and drags it down between my breasts. When his hand reaches my leg, he dips under my towel and grabs my pussy possessively.

I gasp into his mouth as his fingers easily glide through my slit. “Is that all for me, Angel?” Another gasp leaves me when he slips a single digit inside. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes. It’s for you.”

He pumps his finger in and out, hitting that spot and causing my knees to shake. Zane walks us backward until we reach my closet door. He inserts another finger, stretching me. “Ride my fingers, Spencer,” he rasps then covers his mouth with mine in a brutal kiss.

My hands roam to his back. He stiffens and abruptly pauses the kiss. I feel it in my gut that something is wrong.

Before I can ask if he’s okay, he slams me into the door and traps my wrists in a harsh grip above my head. He pushes his body into mine, which is the only thing holding my towel up. If he steps back, he’ll get a full-frontal view of all my bits, but my embarrassment dissipates when I see the pain etched on his face.

“Zane?”

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed and his breathing intensifies. He’s trapped in his own mind and struggling to stay with me. I know the feeling all too well.

“Baby, look at me. I’m right here. You’re with me.” After more kindly whispered words he finally gifts me with his beautiful emerald irises, but his demons are still circling, waiting to dive in and take a piece of him. But they don’t get him. They don’t get to take his goodness, his happiness. They have already taken enough from him.

I don’t need to know what haunts him to know he’s hurting. I don’t need details. I’ll never ask. His past is his own. I have no right to it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be here for him.

“Breathe with me. In your nose,” I do a dramatic inhale. “Out your mouth.” Then a big exhale. He doesn’t do it with me the first time, but joins in on the second. After a minute or two of our deep breaths, his demons retreat and his eyes focus on me. Shame colors his features.

Zane averts his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I give him a reassuring smile.

He inhales deep one more time and lets it out while searching my face. He releases his grip on my hands and inspect them. I didn’t realize how tight his hold was until he lets go and the blood rushes back.

As he leans back my towel starts to drop. I pull my hands away, but he doesn’t let them go far. His focus remains onmy nonexistent injury. I let out a squeak and try pulling away harder, but it’s too late. The towel has dropped and Zane’s eyes lift. He zeroes in on my very exposed breasts. My nipples harden under his gaze.

“Oh shit!” I slam my front against his.

Zane’s eyebrows raise and he asks, “You want me to feel them too?”

“I didn’t know what else to do to cover up.” I bury my heated face in his chest. A moment of silence passes and I feel a rumble from Zane that quickly turns into a full blown laugh.

“I’m glad I amuse you, but can we forget this ever happened?”

Zane sobers enough to answer me. “Absolutely not. I will never forget that sight for the rest of my life.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Then could you at least cover your eyes so I can go in my closet and change?”

“You want my honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“No,” he answers unabashedly.

I roll my eyes at him and come up with a plan. I do an awkward side bend grabbing the towel and throw it over his head. With his gaze obstructed, I dart away seeking refuge in my closet. I slam the door behind me and lean against it.

His laugh echoes from the other side and he calls out, “Nice ass, Angel.”

I heave out a breath and place my embarrassment in a tiny box with ten locks and shove it to the back of my mind.

Looking through my drawers I stumble upon a crucial predicament.

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