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5
AMELIA
I’m his, comes the sickeningly thrilling thought as my senses spin like I’m flying over myself, watching the two of us from above. The initial shock of Zedd suddenly standing beside me when I didn’t even see him approach has worn off, leaving my body tingling with the aftereffects of that momentary sense of danger.
At first I’d panicked, of course. This was all still a girlish fantasy until Zedd slid his arm around my waist in that possessive way, leading me through the crowd which seemed to open up for us like the Red Sea parting for Moses. My vision was blurry, my knees wobbly from the shock of understanding that I’m really here, he’s really here, this is really happening.
Of course, part of me knows that nothing needs to happen if I don’t want it to happen. There’s no chance of Zedd coming to my hotel—not with two bodyguards at the door and my personal maid sleeping in the other room of the large suite at the Four Seasons in Manhattan. And this is about as safe as it gets—we’re in a crowded tennis stadium on a sunny morning.
So why does everything feel so deliciously dark.
And why does it seem like we’re the only two people in the world.
I sip my Coke and stare straight ahead at the blue-painted concrete surface of the tennis court. I feel Zedd’s gaze fix on my lips as I suck at my straw like a thirsty little slut. I can’t see his eyes through the sunglasses, but there’s something about how his body stiffens that sends a dark thrill through me, like my body knows exactly what he was thinking.
And I was proved right when Zedd’s pants peaked like the circus was in town, pitching the big-top tent beneath which the animals prowled and growled, pranced and danced, licked their chops, sharpened their claws.
Placing my straw hat over his erection was a move so daring I almost blacked out. My white cotton panties are already soaked knowing Zedd is hard for me, that he was totally imagining me sucking him off like a good girl, my head bobbing up and down on his lap as he sprawled on his seat under the sun.
“You’re surprising,” Zedd says now, his voice soft but deep. He swallows thickly, his big Adam’s apple moving in the center of his massive neck. “I didn’t think you’d come. Do you know how fucking dangerous this is?”
I force a shrug, take another sip of Coke, put the drink down in the plastic cupholder in the armrest. “More dangerous for you, isn’t it?”
“Don’t think so, sweetheart.” Zedd chuckles darkly. “Ralph Romero expects to marry a virgin princess in three weeks.”
“I’ll still be a princess in three weeks.” I glance at him, grateful that my sunglasses hide the effort it’s taking to act this cool. “Will I still be a virgin?”
The hat almost flies off Zedd’s crotch. His tanned, stubbly face goes dark with color. “Fuck, Amelia. You are on dangerous ground here. I should have my head examined for bringing you out here.”
“You didn’t bring me out here. I chose to come out here.” I glance at him, my body tightening when I take in the sharp contours of his rugged face, that jutting jawline, brutal lips, scars from battles he’s won, lines from years of experience doing his deadly work. “Besides, we’re just two VIPs enjoying some tennis. If you’re worried about the danger, you can drink your Coke and be on your way.”
Now Zedd whips his head in my direction, cups my chin and turns my head towards him. “Take off those sunglasses,” he orders. “Let me see your eyes.”
I do what he says.
Immediately.
I’m in a safe place with a hundred options to leave, but there’s something so overwhelming about Zedd’s presence that I’m rooted in place. He’s holding my chin with a huge hand that I know has throttled men twice my size. His grip is firm but somehow still gentle.
Still, there’s a dangerous edge to Zedd’s body language, to his touch, his tone, the tension in his muscular body. I sense it like I can see it, see the conflict living in this brute like a two-headed snake, trapping him between man and beast, predator and protector.
Now we look into one another’s eyes, and the world fades away into black nothingness. My big brown eyes widen with innocence and perhaps a hint of fear. His green orbs burn like slits of molten emerald. I see desire and danger, but also a desperation, maybe even despair.
“Whatever happens between us this weekend,” he whispers, those eyes flashing with unbridled sincerity. “Will also end with us this weekend. You’re a smart girl. You know the rules of the world into which you were born.” He shrugs, grunts, shrugs again. “Look, I understand why you came. I’m a taste of the forbidden for you. A bit of adventure before you settle into the life that’s been planned for you.” He shakes his head now, his eyes softening in a way that sends a warm ripple through me. “But I won’t allow myself to do anything that puts you in danger, Amelia. If all we do is sit next to each other and sip Cokes and share a few laughs over the next two days, I’ll cherish those moments the rest of my fucking life.”
I blink twice, frown once, glance at the way my straw hat is perched atop his peaked crotch, then cock my head and raise an eyebrow.
His scarred, handsome face crinkles in a grizzly smile, those dangerous eyes flashing with humor. “Oh, that? Don’t worry. I’m used to taking care of myself. It’s been that way three fucking years now.”
I blink rapidly. Three years is how long I’ve been back in America. Three years is how long it’s been since that maid saw Zedd in that upstairs bathroom watching me. “You mean for three years you haven’t . . . haven’t had a woman?”
Zedd is quiet, his rough hand still cupping my chin, big thumb stroking my cheek, eyes studying my face like he’s searching for something. “Oh, I’ve most certainly had a woman. The only woman who does it for me anymore. But I only get to have her in my head. That’s the only place it’s safe for me to take her the way I want, the way I crave.”
Shockwaves of desire move through me. “Me too,” I manage to whisper.
His eyes narrow, the hint of a frown furrowing his brow. “What do you mean,me too?”
I shrug as his rough thumb continues to stroke my cheek, now his fingers caressing my neck, making my nipples prick up beneath my white bra. “I mean . . . in my head . . . my imagination . . . me too. I imagine things that aren’t safe in the real world. Things with you, Zedd. Stuff you do to me.”
