Chapter 22: Zayna

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zayna

R uger grips my cheeks. He’s still gentle, but he won’t let this go. He wants to kill them and it scares me that he doesn’t even know why. He just wants to kill. Because I don’t believe for a goddamn second that he trusts me.

“Tell me, Zayna.”

“Brooks Astor.”

He nods. “Very nice. We’re getting somewhere.”

I don’t know what happened to them after the trial. What the hell did I need to know after that? They got away with it because they were all under eighteen when it happened and their families were incredibly wealthy. Currently, Brooks Astor goes to McGraw College. He took time off classes to attend the trial and there was absolutely no impact on his academic career.

Grant left Boston. I don’t know where he went. Reid Moreland went to McGraw’s rival – Laguna Grove College. That’s just another private liberal arts college forty minutes outside of Boston. Reidis the school’s star tight end. We had to move court dates for his games.

Nobody cares what they did to me. Nobody.

“Is that it?” Ruger asks, giving me a gentle peck on the lips. Encouragement.

“No.”

Ruger moves between my legs. I don’t think he’s trying to hide his dick, but he isn’t trying to be obvious about it. Doesn’t matter. I can feel how hard he is as that big ass dick presses against my inner thighs. This man is beyond pent up. But I don’t think it would take only that for him to kill.

“Give me the names.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“No,” he whispers. “I’ll take Eden to my cousin Gideon’s house and then we’re going to find these men you want me to kill.”

He’s serious. Every time I say something to test how serious he is, Ruger acts like I’m about to deploy his ass on a murder mission. Our bodies are pressed together in this window sill in a scene that feels so fucking peaceful and blissful, that I feel guilty for having so much comfort in the arms of a murderer, while I plan the murders of three other men.

It’s not just because the opportunity jumped in front of me. It’s because of what happened. Their lack of remorse. How I know they will hurt another woman, even if they split apart and spread their disease to other parts of the country. They don’t have to be a team to lay hands on another woman. To rape her. To hurt her. I fight back the tears that automatically come to my eyes when I recall what happened to me.

I fell into the hands of this maniac for a reason, right? If I have to make sense of all the shit that has ever happened to me, I have to give it some purpose. Maybe it’s this. Justice. Vengeance.

I make the choice to kiss Ruger this time. His cheeks turn pink. Watching his skin flush is so weird. So strange. He’s the first white guy I’ve ever been with and his skin has these cute little ways of exposing him. Cute.

He tries to hide his smile. But he can’t hide his cheeks.

“Give me another name,” he says. Those blue eyes stay totally fixated on mine. I never feel like Ruger cares about anything or anyone else when we’re together like this.

“Reid Moreland.”

“Okay.”

“Grant… Fairfax.”

I take my time with the last name because it almost faded from my head. I never thought I could forget those boys and what they did. I have other scars that are much harder to heal than my memories, which seem to slip in and out of the fog depending on my circumstances. My memories are unreliable, but my body grips hold of the past and won’t let go. The only time I feel like I stand a chance is ironically lying up next to Ruger. He’s a giant hunk of a man, and he won’t hurt me.

My instincts got sharper once I pulled myself out of the fog. The only problem with that was it happened after I had to hop on a stripper pole to stay off the mattress. My throat tightens. He has all the names. He’s going to kill them. I can tell because Ruger’s eyes grow cold. Very cold. He has what he needs.

“Is there anyone else?” he asks.

I shake my head. This is already the biggest thing I have ever asked another person. It doesn’t feel great knowing that Ruger is just agreeing for his own pleasure but… this is my chance.

“No.”

He lifts me off the window sill. But he doesn’t help me down gently. My feet hit the hardwood floor with a loud thud. Ruger scowls, confirming my suspicion that somehow not requiring enough murder has pissed him off. I don’t know how the hell I managed that…

“Okay. First we fuck. I’ll give you the tattoo after.”

“You?”

Did we agree to that?

“I could get a biker to come in here and do it for you. But if another man looks at your ass… I’ll have to put him in the ground.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

I have my doubts, but Ruger has finally wormed his way into my head. Now that I’m standing again, I feel so small next to him. If he really wanted, he could toss me over his shoulder and tattoo my ass at his will.

Agreeing will make this easier.

I look up at Ruger, trying to make my lips say the words. But nothing comes out. Because looking at him reminds me that he’s everything I know that I hate. A crazy, fucked up and racist white man. With a tongue like heaven. With the softest lips I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.

I guess I don’t need to agree. His expression darkens and Ruger plants the most aggressive kiss on my lips. Heat rushes through me once our lips touch and Ruger’s increased forcefulness pushes my lips open. His tongue enters my mouth and our kissing turns rough and possessive.

His heart beats out of control beneath my hands. He might be a killer, but he feels so damn hard that I think it scares the shit out of him. He doesn’t know what to do with the intensity. With the heat. Right now, he gives all of it to me. I nip at Ruger’s lower lip like I know the act of biting him will drive him wild.

He winces slightly from the pain and his desires shift into overdrive. A thick tree trunk of an arm wraps around me and he scoops me off the ground like I weigh fucking nothing. He doesn’t stop kissing me. It feels so good. Better than any other kisses.

We don’t make it far from the window sill. Ruger sets my ass on the kitchen counter. Sex. I haven’t had sex in… a long time. I went out of my way to avoid it in Las Vegas. I didn’t need more problems with more men than I already dealt with. This feels like the build up I always dreamed of.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he whispers.

I can feel it. His dick presses eagerly against my thighs. The kitchen smells like lime juice and thyme. Ruger has a thin layer of sweat building up on his forehead. My hands grip his t-shirt, desperate to take it off. I’m ready to give in to everything he wants. To make this happen.

Shaking nervously, my hand cups around Ruger’s dick slowly through the outside of his Carhartt jeans. I can feel his yearning for me. His heat… The cabin is all warm from Ruger’s catch baking in the oven. There’s something weirdly sexy about the way he hunts most of his food. I find a lot of strange things about this man sexy – especially his body.

He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shiver because it feels so wrong that a man this harsh and wild could even have the capacity to be gentle. I wouldn’t have believed it at all if I hadn’t watched Ruger with Eden. The way he changes her is enough for female biology to take over. I forget about his hands covered in blood and only think about those hands delicately cradling Eden against his chest.

The hand travels down my arm, spreading awareness of my attraction to Ruger straight through me. Warmth. Heat. The unfortunate gush between my thighs. I’m just glad he can’t see the heat rushing to my cheeks the way that I can with him. He moves his hips forward, allowing me to cradle his dick in my hands.

His bulge is so big that I can’t fit my entire hand around it. Ruger’s member curves around and folds to fit inside his jeans.

That dick is enormous. Holy shit. I make eye contact with him again and immediately regret it. His eyes meet mine and I know that it’s on. I hate myself for betraying it. Giving him this confirmation of my desires. He’s a full grown man. He just has to look at me to know what’s up. People have this incredible ability to communicate without speech.

The skill works against me. Ruger steps closer, the gap between us shrinks as my thighs wrap around his. Damn, this man has muscular legs. Powerful legs that straddle a powerful bike. He doesn’t stop looking at me. His hand moves to my hair and he takes one of my messy curls between his fingers, dragging it until the curl stretches. Then he lets it spring back.

Confusion registers on Ruger’s face. Moments like this make me wary of him.

“It’s long.”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

My chest tightens nervously as I wait for him to say something inappropriate and snap me out of the moment. Even if I ignore it right now, deep down… I know he’s fucked in the head. But it doesn’t stop me from tightening my grip slowly on his dick, desperate to provoke a response from him. It’s too easy.

Ruger smiles. “You want me.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure you do,” he says, whispering it with conviction before kissing me on the neck. I moan when he kisses me and it is so embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Ruger chuckles and moves my head to the side, tilting my neck more. He kisses me again, sucking on my flesh possessively before he pulls his lips to my ear and whispers. “I just need to feel your pretty lips around my dick first.”

My heart drops to my stomach. Any time Ruger mentions my lips, dread bundles itself into a deep chest knot. I don’t know what type of spicy comment could fly out of this white boy’s mouth. But he chases his shockingly neutral statement with another soft neck kiss, then he tilts my face towards his so I can kiss him again.

When he pulls away, Ruger steps back and glances at a spot on the ground.

“I can get my bearskin rug for you to kneel on,” he says, meeting my gaze with a grin after his little suggestion.

“Wasn’t our agreement sex?”

“Feeling your mouth around my dick is a part of sex.”

“You seem plenty ready.”

“I didn’t realize you were that greedy to get my dick,” he says with so much smugness, I regret my comments instantly. “Is that what you like, princess? A nice big white dick?”

There it is. A comment spicy enough to justify the knot in my chest. Ruger sees my disapproving look and chuckles as he kisses me on the nose. And then the lips. I try to scowl and not encourage him by kissing him back, but this man doesn’t give a crap. He just keeps kissing me until I forget to fight his lips off and I open my mouth to let him tease my tongue with his.

“Don’t get offended,” he says when he pulls away this time. “I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“Shut up.”

“I will once I get my dick in your mouth,” he whispers, sliding his thumb along the inside of my lips. Everything he does is so deeply possessive. I don’t even dare look away from him when we’re this close. My heart pounds as Ruger takes his finger out of my mouth and sucks my spit off.

“I bet those lips are soft,” he whispers. I slide off the counter onto my knees. I’ve heard some of Ruger’s dirty talk and I would rather his lip-related commentary stay innocent. He grins once I get on my knees, fighting off a painful grimace from how hard I hit the floor.

When I see him smiling, I wonder for a brief moment if Ruger made that little comment to manipulate me. Is he that smart?

“Good girl,” Ruger says, patting me on the head once I’m on my knees. Okay, that part was definitely done to piss me off.

“Hey,” I snap at him. “Don’t pat me like Zeus.”

He chuckles, never losing focus of his mission as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. Before I can explain to Ruger what the hell he’s done wrong, he has his jeans on the ground and his boxer briefs halfway over his ass.

“Open up,” Ruger says, tapping the bottom of my chin. I glare at him, but right before I can tell him off — which would technically include obeying his command — my oven timer rings annoyingly throughout the cabin.

Ruger looks like he’s ready to rip a man’s face off as two of his most primal desires struggle for dominance.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announce to this crazy white man from my knees. His dick was halfway out of those boxer briefs. But he is way too hungry to choose sex right now. If he could go sixteen days without it…

Ruger scowls and reaches for his jeans. “You aren’t out of the woods yet, princess. I’m just hungry as fuck and you cook some damn good dinner.”