CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
GOD NEEDS THE DEVIL
HAZEL
The drive back to the safe house is quieter than the one to the restaurant, but it’s the good kind of quiet—the kind that settles instead of presses, that lets the night stretch out around you without demanding anything. Philly blurs past the windows in streaks of amber and shadow, and I keep smiling to myself, replaying pieces of the evening like they’re something warm I can hold onto.
“I really love them,” I say suddenly, because the feeling refuses to stay unspoken.
Zack glances over. “Lincoln and Nora?”
“Yes,” I reply immediately. “Both of them. She’s perfect, and he’s…grounding. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
He exhales softly, something fond in the sound. “She’s had him wrapped around her finger since the day she learned he’d never let her fall.”
“I could tell,” I say. “And Lincoln—he worries, but he listens. That matters.”
“He’s family,” Zack says quietly.
That lands deep.
Back at the safe house, the quiet feels different now—less like hiding, more like rest. I kick off my shoes, wander through the kitchen, still carrying the warmth of the night: Nora’s laughter, Lincoln’s careful explanations, the way Zack had looked so…normal. Relaxed. Human.
“I had a really nice time,” I tell him. “Like, genuinely.”
“Me too,” he says, simple and honest.
We move through the end of the night easily—routine without tension, familiarity without pressure. When I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I look calmer than I feel, steadier than I have in days. When I step into the bedroom, Zack is already there, leaning against the dresser, watching me in that quiet way that always makes me feel seen instead of examined.
The air changes. Subtle, but undeniable.
I stop a few steps away from him. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Neither of us rushes it. He doesn’t close the distance until I do first, and when he does, it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s giving me every chance to choose this. I do.
“I feel safe,” I say softly. “With you.”
Something shifts in his expression—relief, gratitude, restraint all tangled together—and his hand settles at my waist, warm and grounding. When he leans in, it’s close enough that I can feel his breath. Close enough that the rest of the world narrows without disappearing. There’s us and this little slice of the world that we’re hiding out in, and this palpable tension between us that’s about to ignite like a powder keg. I relish in the slight discomfort of it, enjoying the way my body wants tosquirm under his gaze and the slightly hesitant flicker of his eyes between my lips and my own hooded gaze.
I don’t know when it happened, but I’m the one pressed against the dresser now, and his massive stature is framing me in. Zack’s the one to ignite the powder keg, tossing in a match with a brush of his lips against mine that promises more and leaves me wanting to beg for it.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs.
“I won’t,” I answer, just as quiet.
We move together toward the bed, unhurried, the moment heavy with possibility and intention, and when the door clicks shut behind us, it’s not an ending.
It’s a pause.
One I’m more than ready to fill. His thumb brushes against my lips as he hovers over me, our eyes locking as he presses it into my mouth. A moan slips out of me as I reach down to the massive bulge in his pants, letting my fingertips trace the impressive size of its mounding form before toying with his belt buckle as if I’m about to take my sweet time. He grins, calling my bluff, and his hips thrust toward me. He nods once, in a way that isn’t permission but a command and I slip off his belt in a single pull and unzip his pants with just the nail of my thumb. His massive, pierced cock springs out, pre-cum already spilling out the top in greeting.
I have to cover my giddiness with humor, or else he might know just how much I like him and his dick. “You’re fucking huge, baby. I don’t know if I can take it,” I purr, knowing damn well I can and have taken it.
He growls into my ear, “You can take me, sweetheart. Now, be a good girl and take off your pants.”
I let out a soft whimper just looking at the size of it. The anticipation of taking him inside me is sending a shock of pleasure through me—I am beyond ready for him. My pantscome off in a swift motion and a little shimmy as I kick them to the side, my hands shaking with unspent pleasure as I turn my attention back to him.
