“Please,” Pasha tells her. “I love when other people pick up on what I’ve been telling them for months.”
Zeb flips him off, making Pasha laugh, and I eye the exchange.
Zeb’s never really been picky about what’s beneath the belt of the person he brings into his bed, only caring that they’re willing to play his games and become his little toy for the evening—something that was never easy to do on the road. There werea number of nights when Reed and I would bring our own partners back to the bus or hotel while Zeb remained flirting at the party or simply went back to the bus to nap or plan his next prank.
I’ve always wondered if he and Pasha had a thing in the past, especially with the way Pasha looks at him. Definitely not a relationship, but just a quick fuck after class or role-play in the desert.
The thought makes me grin wider. I’m sure he’s into the things Zeb is, too.
Gemma’s hand sliding on my hip drags me back to the present. The hair on the back of my neck stands, and I barely realize I’m holding my breath until I hear her chuckle near my ear.
“You have to breathe,” she tells me. “You see your hand, here? If you just angle and brace your forearm—” She moves my arm. “Make this strike more targeted instead of aiming anywhere on his face, you’ll hit his throat. Walk it through.”
I move back, and Zeb reassumes his previous aggressor stance. Gemma leads me when I, again, drop my elbow—definitelynoton purpose—and moves my body through the motions.
My eyes flutter every time she touches me. It doesn’t seem to matter how much my stalker grabbed and caressed me last night… Gemma’s touch is different. It isn’t hidden behind a shadow, forced into the back of my mind like a fever dream. It’s public and deliberate, threatening my sanity and sobriety with every brush.
By the time our hour is up, my thighs aren’t just aching from the workout.
Breathe.
If you give in and it doesn’t last, you’ll be okay.
If something gets fucked, you can handle it.
I wish I believed it.
“Yeah, you’re fucked,” Zeb says when we’re in the locker room.
I crack open my bottle of water and chug half of it. “Shut up. What about you? You and Pasha? When did that happen?”
Zeb scoffs. “Only the once,” he replies.
“Yeah? Why? Did you give him a proposition and scare him off?” I ask.
He wipes his face with his towel. “I think so. Even invited his pretty new girlfriend to play if it made him more comfortable.”
I press my hands to my hips and shake my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. “What are we going to do with you?” I tease.
“I’m told drowning is a pretty permanent solution, and, if I remember correctly, also a kink I didn’t know I had,” he says. “Also, clowns.”
I stare at him, genuinely confused. “What?”
“Liam let me borrow a couple of the dark romance books he’s been reading while on duty. Needed a break from thrillers,” Zeb says. “There’s some kinky shit in those pages.”
My brows lift. “Damn. I need to get back into reading.”
“We’ll start you on audiobooks,” he says. “Your attention span doesn’t equate to sitting down with a book.”
“True,” I agree.
“Hey.” Gemma’s voice perks my ears, and I look at the door to find her approaching us.
Her skin is glistening with sweat. The messy way her curls have begun to frizz makes her even sexier right now. I try to force my gaze to hers instead of staring at the droplet now trickling down her neck that I want to lick away.
But it’s hard to imagine anything else.
“You two ready to leave in twenty?” she asks, checking the messages on her watch. “Kade says the chef is about to pack up.Andi is running out to get drinks. He said they’ll be all set by the time we get back.”
