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Zoe’s voice sounds miles away as I fold in on myself, groans falling from my lips. I breathe through it, cupping my junk where I’m pretty sure my nuts have disappeared up into my fucking body and will probably never return.
“Gray. Should I get someone?”
“Noooo.” I groan, feeling the throbbing start to ease and I peel my lids open, needing to see my princess.
I shouldn’t have fucking done that. Why the fuck did I do that? I knew I shouldn’t, yet I fucking did. Why the fuck did I think with my dick?
As I groan again, I realize it wasn’t my dick that fucking speared me on. It was the ache in the center of my chest that craved to touch her and hold her close. Show her how much I love her.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter and she frowns.
“No. I shouldn’t have freaked. I… I…”
“Zo,” I rasp, rolling onto all fours as I pant through the ebbing pain. “It was my fault. I got carried away.” I tip my head back to look up at her concerned gaze. “I shouldn’t have done that. I promised I wouldn’t touch you until you asked me to.”
“But… I felt it,” she whispers, tears pooling in her eyes as she slowly lowers herself to the floor, sitting in front of me with crossed legs. “I’m sorry I’m not right in the head.”
“What?” I frown, easing myself to sit in front of her. “Don’t say that. This is not your fault. You’re dealing with trauma, Zo. PTSD. I was the idiot who overstepped. You should have grabbed the knife and gutted me.”
“There was a time I really wanted to do that to you.” She grins. “But not now. Somehow I’ll figure out my way back into your arms.”
I hope she’s right, because I ache to touch her. Not to get myself off, but to just hold her. Smell her. Taste her. Worship her.
The shrill of my phone jolts us back to reality, and I dig it out of my back pocket, my heart racing as I see the name flash across the screen.
Rusty Hunt.
“Answer it on speaker,” Zoe whispers, having seen the caller too, so I lay it on the floor between us and answer it, selecting the speaker option.
“The fuck do you want?” I grit out, and the smug fuck starts chuckling.
“Is that any way to talk to a fellow President? Were you not taught the correct etiquette?”
“There’s no fucking etiquette when it comes to you. What the fuck do you want?” I hiss and again he chuckles.
“Okay. Okay. Straight to business,” Rusty mutters. “You have something that belongs to me.”
“The fuck I do.” I snap and Rusty hisses.
“You have our Zoe. We want her back.”
Zoe gasps at his words, her eyes widening in fear as she starts looking around like Rusty is here.
“Oh. And there she is. I hear you little one,” Rusty chuckles. “That was easier than I thought it’d be. We didn’t actually know Zoe had found her way back to you, but she just gave herself away.”
I growl into the speaker on my phone as Rusty chuckles.
“Have you missed us, Zoe?”
“Fuck you!” she yells, her hands fisting into her hair.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have answered it on speaker. But then I told her I’d share everything that happens so she knows exactly what’s going on.
No secrets.
“Now, now, Zoe. You do have such a temper,” Rusty sneers, no longer finding this amusing. “I have someone here who misses you.”
“Hey, Sugar.”
