Page 80 of Covert Operation
I swallow, trying to get a little more moisture in my dry throat. “I wasn’t thinking about today.”
Because I might be a bad person.
“What were you thinking about?” There’s so much tenderness and care in the way he asks the question. Like he’s ready to stay up all night with me if I need to talk about the way our trip to rescue Audrey affected me.
And again, I might be a bad person, because none of that is even on my radar at this moment. “I was thinking about last night. When you…” My words drift off, because I don’t know what to call what we did. Fucking sounds too detached and carnal, and making love is nowhere near passionate enough describe the toe curling experience of having Zeke between my thighs.
Zeke’s expression shifts, the intensity that’s always pulled me in changing from a simmer to an inferno. “When I what, Savannah?”
I knew he was going to ask me that. After the fit I threw over him holding back, I’m not surprised the tables are being turned. But my problem isn’t that I think he’s too delicate for whatever words I might choose. My struggle is coming up with the words that fit.
I pinch my lower lip between my teeth, refusing to let my eyes drift below his neck. Because if I let that happen, there’s no way I’ll come up with any sort of coherent explanation.
Zeke inches closer, his hands sliding down to grip my hips through the fabric of my dress. “Say it. After I what?”
He’s so close now. Too close. Close enough I can feel the heat radiating off his body. Close enough I can smell his skin. Close enough the straining length of his dick barely brushes my belly. I’ve got to come up with something, because I know I can’t keep my eyes and my hands to myself much longer.
“When you made me yours.” I give in to the need I tried to fight and press my hands against his chest. “Maybe tonight I should make you mine.”
Zeke’s hands flex against my hips, fingers gripping tight as he leans into my ear. “Sweetheart, I’ve belonged to you since that day in the gun range.”
It’s a day I’ve circled back to countless times. I think I knew from the start I could trust Zeke with anything. With my fears. With my sadness. With my pain.
Never did I expect how much of it we shared.
Zeke lifts one hand, bringing his fingers to rake through my hair. “I didn’t know it back then, but I was already gone.” His mouth softens into a hint of a smile. “It’s probably better I didn’t, because I probably would have proposed that second time you jumped on my back in the training room.”
I run my hands over his chest, gently tracing the healing wound on his shoulder. “Do you want to know the day I started torealize I was going to end up feeling ways I wasn’t supposed to about you?”
“Yes, and we’re going to circle back to why you would think there were ways you weren’t supposed to feel.”
My head tips back on a laugh, because that is such a Zeke thing to say. He will always defend me. Even from myself. “It was the day you were in the medical wing.” I lift my eyes to his face. “At first, I was just pissed Eli wasn’t taking care of you the way I thought he should. But the longer I touched you, the more I wanted to touch you.” My eyes drift down as one of my fingers circles the flat shape of his nipple. “I hadn’t felt any sort of sexual desire in so long, and I thought I might never feel it again. But then…” I flick the bud of his nipple and Zeke sucks in a sharp breath. “Then you made that sound, and I realized I was in trouble.”
“I put the ice pack you gave me on my dick.” Zeke’s confession is flat and dry.
And has me laughing so hard my eyes start to water. Because I can see it happen. I can imagine him stretched out on the table, pissed at himself, glaring at his own dick for its bad behavior.
“That wasn’t very nice of you.” I drop my hands lower, hooking them in the waistband of his pants, and flipping the button free before dragging down the zipper. “You might have given yourself frostbite.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s fine.” Zeke’s lips quirk. “But I’m happy to test it out if you’d like to make sure.”
I’m not normally a sexually forward sort of girl, but it seems like the bravery I feel when I’m with Zeke is all encompassing. Without really thinking too hard about it, I’m pushing down hispants, being careful not to get the teeth of his zipper anywhere they shouldn’t be, as I say, “Actually, I think maybe I should inspect it.”
I know he’s going to try to stop me. That’s just who Zeke is. He is protective to a fault. Completely self-sacrificing when it comes to me. And I love it. But I will always make sure he gets what he deserves. Even if he pretends not to want it.
“Savannah.” There’s a hint of a warning in the way he says my name. A tiny bit of a threat that only eggs me on more.
In an effort to catch him off guard, I plant both hands at the center of his chest and shove. We’re standing close enough to the bed that the backs of his thighs hit the side of the mattress and he goes down, bouncing a little when his ass connects with the soft surface. Knowing my time is limited, I drop to my knees, the plush rug underfoot cushioning my landing. Then, without hesitation, I lean in, sinking over him in one steady glide.
I managed to get my mouth on Zeke for a minute last night before he put a stop to my fun. Luckily, I learned a couple things during that interaction. First, I can’t put myself in a position where he can easily turn the tables.
And second, Zeke really likes suction.
So as soon as I start to pull back, I hollow my cheeks, lifting my eyes to make sure it’s having the desired effect. The way he’s looking at me—like he’s warring with himself over stopping me or letting me continue—tells me I’m on the right track.
It feeds an odd sense of power. One that’s heady and addictive and has me gripping the base of his shaft with one hand as I double down on my efforts.
And I keep my eyes on his face the whole time. Watching as he fights himself for me. Zeke will always give me what I want. Just like I’ll always give him what he deserves. And we’re both on the same side right now, whether he likes it or not.