Oh, my God.
I just let a man I barely know… a mobster… my accidental husband… kiss me stupid and go down on me. And it was the best orgasm of my entire damn life! Wasn’t I the one trying to prevent Leah from marrying a guy she’d just met?… I’m losing my entire damn mind.
I frantically wash my panties at the sink and wrap them in a towel to dry. Then, turn on the shower, still trying to get my brain to work, but all I can think about is Zak. How he touchedme, looked at me like I’m a feast, like he wanted to own every inch of me, like I belong to him. I shiver.
Get it together, girl.
I need to think. I need a plan. I need…
But more thoughts invade my mind. His mouth on me, his fingers inside me, the way he growled against my pussy like he was cumming too, just from tasting me.
I finally get in the shower, sighing under the seventy-thousand shower-heads massaging my body from all sides, trying to clear my mind and figure out what I’m going to do.
What the hell is going on in my life right now?! A shootout, a freaking accidental marriage, sleeping in a kingpin’s bed, everything I let him do to me?!!
I take my time, using Zak’s fancy body wash that smells freaking amazing. Like cedar wood… that same scent I caught on him. It feels so intimate to be in his bathroom, using his things, surrounded by his fragrance. It all feels like a dream. I shake myself and start washing the foam off, trying to come back to myself.
By the time I step out of the spa-like shower and dry off, I’m feeling a bit more steady. I lotion up, put on my clothes, and finger-comb my damp hair as best as I can. Welcome to the walk of shame.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, open the door… and nearly swallow my tongue. Zak is standing in the middle of the room in another perfectly tailored suit. This one, charcoal gray, with a crisp white shirt under, no tie, top button undone, showcasing his corded throat. His tattoos peeking out. He looks like he stepped straight out of an expensive cologne ad with all that badass elegance, his neatly shaven jaw, combed-back hair… And the asshole is smirking. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“Ready?” he asks in his low, gravelly voice.
I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
He moves to me, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. He’s so damn tall, so broad, it’s like he’s taking up all the space in the room.
His eyes drop to my mouth and linger there… before coming back to meet mine.
“You look good.”
I roll my eyes. “Liar.”
“Not lying.” He reaches to brush my cheek with his knuckles, and I feel it everywhere. “You always look good, wife.”
Wife. He keeps calling me that. And I hate how much I like it.
“We should go,” I say quickly, stepping away from his tempting presence before I do something stupid. Like climb him like a tree and beg him to show me that long, big, hard thing I felt in his sweats earlier…
He nods, that goddamn smirk returning.
* * *
When we step outside, there’s a sleek black Maybach with tinted windows waiting, a driver standing by the back door. Zak takes my hand to help me inside. I slide on the buttery leather seat, and he follows.
“What’s your address?” he asks.
I rattle my address, and the driver nods, starting the engine.
“Uh… Zak,” I start. “My purse, my phone, my keys. I don’t have any of my stuff.”
He nods slowly. “The guys will get your purse today when they go back to the venue to take care of the repairs.”
Oh. Okay. Wow!
“You need to make calls?” he asks.
“Yes. Work and Leah, for now.”
