S. Harper - Cursed

“Unless you want them to get wet.”

The sandals are already gone. The jeans and blouse come off next, leaving only the white lace bra and panties.

“God, I could just eat you up,” Zack growls, his voice rough with desire. He reaches down with one hand and strokes himself from tip to base and back up again. I remember the feel of him, the taste of him.

“Would you like me to do that for you?” I unfasten the back of my bra, then turn around, slip off the straps, and let it fall onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“What I want you to do is get your ass in here.”

I hear the shower door open behind me, feel a rush of heat and moisture roll out. He’s anxious. I can tell. Yet I take my time. This is the fun part, the buildup, the seduction. I pull down my panties slowly, with a sway of my hips. As they fall to my ankles, Zack scoops me up. One arm is wrapped around my waist, his hand cupping the opposite breast. His other reaches forward, his palm covers my sex, his fingers deftly separate and slide inside.

“Tell me you want me,” Zack murmurs.

I push back against him, providing friction where he needs it the most. The words tumble out. “I want you. Desperately. Completely. Recklessly.” I don’t think I’ve ever spoken with such honesty to a man.

In the blink of an eye we’re in the shower. The speed at which he’s moved leaves me breathless. I’m pinned facing the side wall, hands above my head, feet spread apart. I feel his breath on my back between my shoulders, feel the low rumble of a growl forming in his chest and belly. Teeth graze my neck. I freeze. The beast is close to the surface. I feel it.

“Zack?” I hear a tinge of panic in my voice.

“Shh. It’s okay. No need to be afraid,” he assures me. “I control the wolf. It doesn’t control me. Except for those three nights a month, but I’m even getting better at that. You can trust me. I want you to trust me.”

He releases my arms, letting his hands skim down the length of them, then over my shoulders before settling on my hips. He turns me around and tilts my chin up so that I can look him in the eye. The light above the shower enhances the gold in them.

I don’t have to use my powers to feel the truth and sincerity of Zack’s statement.

I place my hand on his chest and swallow down the lump in my throat. Zack and I are alike in so many ways. Living lives shrouded in secrets and built on too many lies. It’s impossible to connect with anyone when you can’t be real. And at the end of the day, whether human, Were, or Siren, that’s what we crave, what we truly yearn for—a connection.

“I wouldn’t be here, Zack, if I didn’t trust you.”

It’s almost as if he was waiting for permission, for assurance. Zack cups my face in the palms of his hands. His mouth covers mine and he kisses me deeply. Our tongues curl around each other, languidly exploring. Time stands still for me. I focus on the moment, on the sensation. On the taste and feel and smell of the man before me.

His hand leaves my hip. He lifts one of my legs onto the bench in the back of the shower, leaving me open and so wanting. Two fingers slip inside.

I gasp. My eyes widen and my head snaps back.

My reaction evokes a grin. His pumping is slow and steady, the rhythm old and familiar. After one night together, he already knows my body. He knows how to touch me and how to make me respond.

My hands reach for his biceps. I feel his power and strength as I run my hand over them, wanting, needing to hold on to something. I’m climbing. Higher and higher.

Zack adds another finger. His thumb is working, too. I want more. I want him with me, in me.

“Please.” My body is strung as tight as a bow. I’m breathing too fast.

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

One hand guides him, the other moves to still his movements. “You,” I manage to say before my knees start to buckle.

I needn’t worry.

Zack is there to catch me, more than catch me. He lifts me up.

My arms and legs wrap around him. The cool tile presses into my back as I slide down, letting him fill me to the hilt. He eases out, and then back in, deeper this time. My stomach is a mass of coils, tight, ready to explode.

“I’m all yours,” he whispers into my ear.

My heart wrenches.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

“Give it all to me, then.” I reach back and grab a fistful of his hair. “Don’t. Hold. Back.”

He doesn’t. He tilts his hips and picks up the pace, making me appreciate just how much Zack Armstrong has to give.

“You’ll be very relieved to know that my legs are working again. And I found chopsticks.” I tilt my head toward the breast pocket of the shirt I’m wearing. It’s Zack’s. I commandeered it from his closet.

He’s kneeling in front of the fireplace, dressed only in sweats. The fire is roaring and he’s lit the gas heaters on the upstairs deck. There’s a love seat and chair out there along with a coffee table. I have the bag of Thai in one hand and two beers in the other. Zack promptly relieves me of one of the beers and the bag of food.

“Smells great!”

I follow him outside. “I worked very hard heating it up in the microwave.”

Zack’s arranging the cartons, but he pauses to pull me into his arms. His hand curls around the same spot where Sarah grabbed me this morning at the elevator. Without thinking, I wince.

“Did I hurt you in the shower?” The alarm in his voice makes me realize I can’t pass this off as something he did. It would cut him to the quick.

“No, it happened earlier today.”

He’s pushing up the sleeve and inspecting my arm. There’s already a bruise. Several. With a gentle finger, he traces the outline of the handprint. “Did Kallistos do this to you when you were locked in that room with him?”

“No. It wasn’t Kallistos.” The last thing I need is for Zack to have one more reason to go gunning for Kallistos. I tell him the truth. “It was Sarah.”

“Sarah?” From the expression on his face I can tell it wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

“She showed up at the office.”

“Looking for me?”

“Me, actually.”

He frowns. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like your answer, but what for?”

“To give me the stay-away-from-my-man speech.”

“I’m not her—”

“Did the two of you sleep together the other night? Just tell me the truth, Zack. I’m ancient. I haven’t the heart for games and betrayal.”

To his credit, Zack doesn’t skip a beat. “Yes. Slept. She showed up here after you left. She had no place to stay. She knew I wouldn’t turn her away. I couldn’t. We shared the cage.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I meant it when I told you it was over between the two of us.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “I’ve got to put an end to this. It isn’t Sarah’s fault. Without meaning to, I’ve put her in a bad spot. She’s desperate and feeling cornered. That’s a dangerous combination.”

He pushes a button on his cell and listens intently before leaving a message. “J.C., it’s Zack. Look, I know what you’re trying to do. I can even understand it. But it’s not going to work. I told you before, I’m done. I’m not coming back. This isn’t my fight and Sarah isn’t going to convince me otherwise. She has no sway over me. None. If you don’t set this right, I’ll have to.”

Zack tosses the phone onto the coffee table, then walks over to the rail and stares out at the ocean. The nerve in his jaw is ticking. I give him a moment to collect his thoughts before asking, “So, who’s J.C.?”

He turns back to face me. “J. C. Hewitt, he’s the current beta of my old pack. He’s wilder than a June bug and dumber than a doornail. Before I left there was an upset, a turnover in leadership. The new alpha, Asa Wade, is a heartless bully. He’s ruthless. He’s also smart and ambitious. He started to develop alliances. The culture began to shift in a direction I couldn’t abide.”