Chapter 20
1449words
'Instead, I find myself wanting you more with every brash, insolent word that comes out of your mouth."
He reaches up and traces the bump on my lip with one finger, making it tingle. When he meets my gaze, it seems the blue of his eyes is darker, filled to the brim with fire and lust and promises of so much pleasure.
He runs his finger from my lips down my neck, sending ripples of sensation everywhere he touches, all of that coalescing between my legs where a throbbing starts. Wetness pools in my panties at the thought of what that piercing would feel like inside me.
But Zade only continues to stare at me.
'Why did you really come here today?" I ask, already somehow knowing he didn't come here for sex. Zade is very straight to the point. He usually doesn't hesitate to take what he wants, or give me what he thinks I need, which tells me there's more on his mind.
He looks me over suggestively. I swear I can feel the path his eyes take down my body.
Please say sex, my sex-starved brain cries, even though I know he won't.
'Take down your hair and I'll tell you why I came here," He straightens and returns to the couch, but this time, he lies back on it, his hands folded behind his head as he stares straight at the ceiling.
My heart pounds. He might as well have asked me to strip for all the effect it's having on me. But seeing him stretched out on my too-small couch, ready to bare his mind to me is too much temptation. He glances at me, then arches a single eyebrow as if to say, 'What are you waiting for?"
With a shaky hand, I reach up and unwind my hair, letting it fall in waves down my back. It's way too long now but somehow in the last four years that I've been away from Harmony, I've not had the heart to cut it short.
Zade must have noticed that everyone back home seems to sport overly long hair, which is probably why he's making me do this. My face suddenly feels too hot.
He likes to see that part of me. Which is precisely why I'm feeling so… naked and exposed right now.
'Fuck, Sparrow. You're breathtaking when you blush for me," Zade's gravelly voice pulls me deeper into a sensual haze, transforming the throbbing in my core into a raging inferno. I don't even try to resist clenching my thighs together.
Still, I forge on. 'So, Zade, what's on your mind?"
'You. I can't get you out of my head, fiammetta. And I have to do something tonight; I need my head clear."
'What is it you have to do tonight?" I ask. It seems his conscience is weighing on him.
He looks at me, brow raised, silent.
I roll my eyes. 'I know we are not talking about a late-night trip to get some ice-cream, Zade."
He nods then faces the ceiling, 'Okay. I plan to retaliate. For Leo."
'All right." I'm silent for a moment, mulling that over. Sometimes wanting to get revenge is easier than following through on it. But I imagine this isn't the first time he's inflicted violence. So, there's something different about this time.
'For Leo's death?" I question. 'But he betrayed you."
He nods. 'Yes, but he was enticed by a rival family. One that is in open rebellion to the Outfit."
'You mean Romario?"
He slowly huffs out a breath. 'Who told you that?"
I shrug, 'When you find yourself in a mafia don's crosshairs for no reason, you obsess over who he is and why he wants you dead, so yeah, I've been busy this past week."
He simply nods 'Fair enough."
'I have a feeling the retaliation isn't the problem here, Zade," I say, getting back on track.
'No?" He seems intrigued.
I drag my fingers through my hair and then push it behind my shoulder. 'I think, so long as you're caught up in seeking revenge, you don't truly have to face what Leo did to you. Once you avenge Romario's disrespect and the demons are slayed, you'll have to face the pain of Leo's betrayal."
'Is that so?" Zade's tone is a cross between curiosity and sarcasm, but I don't let that faze me.
'Did Leo ever say why he did what he did? Did he ever get the chance to tell you?"
Zade nods. 'He was ‘tired' of the life. Haunted by the things he'd done for my father."
'So, now you feel even more guilty because you finally understand what that's like."
Zade simply looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate.
'You didn't kill me, Zade. Imagine if it was your Don who gave the order. Would you have disobeyed?"
'No," he says, his tone harsh.
My heart lurches. The only reason I'm still breathing is because Zade is the one calling the shots.
For long moments, we say nothing. Then I ask, 'Why didn't you send one of your soldiers, Zade? It seems like an awfully mundane task to take on yourself."
'Because I would never send my men on a path I've not tread on."
A criminal with a code of honor. It's a testament to how sick I am because that just made me melt for him. Done with talking, I throw my legal pad to the side.
'Zade..." My voice comes out in a needy whisper.
'Don't say my name like that, Sapphire."
'Like what?"
'Like you're ready to break out of your box."
I remain silent.
Zade shakes his head, and mutters to the ceiling, 'She's trying to leave that part of herself and searching for a ‘new life' where everything is black and white,"
I respond, 'And his world is the darkest and murkiest shade of gray."
Zade sits up and then pins me with a look. 'But everything about you screams that gray is your true comfort zone, Sapphire Kellan."
A denial is at the tip of my tongue, but George chooses that moment to make a break for it, flapping out of the pool and making a beeline for the open doorway.
I'm on my feet in a flash, but Zade's already up, too, cutting him off and picking him up. I'm surprised to see the careful way he handles George.
'And where exactly were you planning to go?" I ask my duck sternly as I sit back and hold out my arms as Zade transfers George to me.
George quacks, then buries his head beneath my elbow, cuddling in close.
'Suck-up," I mock-chastise him, then stroke his feathered back.
Zade stays close, watching me. I'm acutely aware of his eyes on me even as I focus on George's vibrant green and brown feathers.
'You're stunning, Sofia Lauren."
Oh dear God. I melt again—even more so because I know exactly what he means: my roots, the parts of me that people have taught me to be ashamed of.
I feel the hum of sexual energy sparking in the air all around us. It makes my whole body hyper-aware of the brush of my skirt's hem against my thigh, the silky feel of George's feathers, the faint brush of warmth against my cheek as Zade breathes out.
I remember the feel of his hands on me, the possessive press of his mouth over mine, the faint sting from his teeth digging into my lips.
He's remembering too—I can feel it in the pull like a magnetic force between us.
'Put him down," he whispers.
I let George go, not even caring that a minute ago I was hot on his tail. He immediately returns to his pool of water as if contrite for his behavior.
Zade drops to his knees in front of me and then drags up my skirt. He reaches into his breast pocket for something. A moment later, I see it's my dagger and thigh holster. He slowly buckles it around my right thigh, taking his sweet time while I shake with desire.
When he's done, he takes my hand and stares at the pink healing scar for a long time. Then he pushes back on his feet, stands, and takes a step back.
'One week, Sapphire. Think about what you want. Buonanotte," he says, reaching down to graze his thumb against my bruised lower lip.
And then he spins on his heels and leaves.
