EIGHTEEN

Leora

In the evening, the team gathered around the dining table, glasses in hand, trying to unwind. Logan, noticing my red-rimmed eyes, quipped, "What's the matter, Leo, cat videos again?"

I forced a smile, my eyes briefly meeting Zarek's before darting away.

Logan's expression turned serious. "So, about this morning's excitement—turns out our sniper friend was probably a hired gun. I've handed him over to the authorities."

"Our hideout's compromised, though. We're moving to a new safe house tomorrow." Kabir added.

The room filled with a tense silence, punctuated by the clink of glass as Dylan poured another whiskey.

"Sorry for being useless." He mumbled and chugged his drink down.

"Relax, Dyl. You're useless for another twenty-four hours," Logan smiled at him mockingly and Dylan shoved him with his bad arm, only to wince and laugh.

"I guess I'm driving tomorrow?" Kabir asked, spinning the ice in his drink.

"Yep," Logan patted on his shoulder.

Zarek kept his gaze locked on his glass.

Amelia was at the end of the table, absorbed in her own world. She alternated between tweaking components on her drone and tapping rapidly on her laptop, engrossed in her work.

I sat quietly, my gaze occasionally drifting to Zarek's bandaged arm.

"Do you have a minute?" Zarek asked me hesitantly, just as I was about to pour myself a drink.

"I don't know," Logan grinned, "I'm pretty busy with this whiskey right now, Zarek."

Zarek shook his head and gestured for me to follow him. With a glass in hand, he led the way to his room. Once inside, I snatched the glass from him and downed its contents in one swift gulp, the straight whiskey burning my throat.

"Uh, I was working on that," his eyes met my glare, "but yeah, go ahead. Do you want another one?"

"It's fine," my hoarse voice surprised me. I hadn't spoken since my very long breakdown in my room earlier.

"Leora, I–"

"It's too late, you know." I said blankly, "I'm already that helpless woman. I care about you enough already that I had a panic attack in my room afterward."

"Baby, it happens."

" ‘Baby' . Seriously?" I challenged, arching an eyebrow at him as he advanced, backing me against his door.

"Do you hate it?" he countered, his presence overwhelming as he closed in, trapping me with nowhere to go.

I scoffed, turning my head to avoid his intense gaze. "Really? After two years, I let my guard down for someone who doesn't even know what he wants."

Zarek lowered his head, his defeat palpable in the slumped set of his shoulders.

When he didn't respond, I continued. " You are the one who said when not if . You are the one who fucked me right outside this room. You , Zarek."

He didn't even try to defend himself, just sighed. Running a hand through his hair, a tortured look crossed his face.

"I get it, I frustrate you," he murmured. "But you know why I hesitate. You know what I'm terrified of."

He met my glare then. "Leora, I—"

"Don't ‘Leora' me when you're busy pushing me away one minute and pulling me close the next," I interrupted, my voice sharp.

Zarek exhaled heavily, his frustration mirroring mine. "I'm trying to protect you. Don't you understand that? I'm trying to not get you killed."

I snapped, tired of the same old excuses. "Stop deciding what I can or cannot handle. Maybe I want to be a part of this squad—maybe I want you, despite the risks."

He stared at me, conflict written all over his face, caught between desire and his sense of duty. His hand reached to cup my face but I swatted it away.

His face crumpled as he spoke. " God , you keep pulling me in, and " He paused, catching his breath. " But the thought of anything happening to you… I can't handle that, Leora. Please , you can't possibly want this. You can't possibly want me ."

His voice started softly, almost a plea, but by the end, his words were a crushing blow.

I can't want this? I can't want him?

He seemed to think that joining the squad and being with him are the same thing. Perhaps, they were. They resulted in the same terrifying outcome in his head. That thought kept bouncing around in my head, leaving a dull ache behind.

"When will you realize that I'm already in this too deep? There's no stepping back now. This… all of this will follow me for the rest of my life, Zarek." I whispered back.

He just stared at me, silent, his eyes a tumult of emotions I couldn't decipher. So I pressed on, my voice rising.

"You're very…" I gave him an irritated shrug, "Hot and cold. Unsure. What the fuck do you want?"

"Fuck, Leora. I don't know!" He bellowed, "You drive me crazy all the time. When you didn't move and kept crying in front of me, I lost my mind," his hand caressed my throat, "When I saw those marks on your neck, my knees gave out. And when I saw…" his thumb traced my jaw and his eyes darkened, "when I saw Casteel's partner almost rape you, I shot his dick off."

I pushed him back. My eyes widened at his admission.

I was almost what?

"Wha–"

"Tell me, Leora," his voice was gentle yet strained. "What do you think I want, because to me it's clear that I want you . But I can't just have you, can I? Because I've told you this a million times. If I really have you, I put you in danger and misery for the rest of your life."

"Let me decide that."

"I can't," his head dropped to my shoulder, "I fucking can't, baby. You'll lose me. Or worse, I'll lose you. I can't let that happen. You can't be another picture in my wallet."

"Let me decide who I choose to lose. Let me decide where I belong," I whispered, my hand resting hesitantly on his back.

That's when I heard him mutter a curse, his head angling toward my neck and he peppered me with soft kisses. I tilted my head to give him more room and felt him smile, his breath hot against my skin.

"You're making me lose my mind," he mumbled between kisses.

"And you love it!" I whispered.

"I do love it, Mi Corazón."

I paused at the new endearment. It was Spanish.

"You're Spaniard, I forgot," my voice was breathless.

He pinned me against the door and lifted me to get a better angle on my neck. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and I felt the unmistakable bulge in his sweatpants.

"You don't like me calling you baby, so I had to get creative," he gently pressed his lips to mine. Parting my lips, his tongue tangled with mine with a controlled urgency. When I moaned into his mouth, a guttural groan escaped him.

"Fuck, we're doing this, huh?" He whispered, surrendering. He was finally giving in .

"Yeah, are you scared?" I smiled coyly.

His hands tightly gripped my thighs and slowly slid towards my ass. I was wearing thin silk shorts loose enough for his fingers to easily gain their path to my soaked panties.

"I'm fucking terrified. But know that once we do this, there's no going back, Mi Corazón." His breath tickled my cheeks.

I gripped his shoulders tighter. I wasn't sure whether I was afraid to fall, or just fall for him.

When he felt the wetness through the fabric, he pulled back slightly. "God, you're so fucking wet for me, Dr. Leora Mateez."

His lips crashed on mine and he was no longer gentle.

As I came up for air, I mumbled. "Zarek, I need you to–"

"I know what you need, Mi Corazón. Let's do it properly this time."

He carried me to his bed and gently laid me down. His body consumed mine as he loomed over me and lapped his mouth on me again. His hands grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it up.

Tracing a path from my jaw down to my neck, he found a tender spot between my breasts. Gently, he eased the cup of my bra aside and gazed up at me, his eyes clouded with a yearning that mirrored my own.

"I've been dreaming about taking these into my mouth since that day." He murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His mouth closed over my breast, his tongue teasing my nipple into a taut peak, drawing a soft whimper from deep within me.

"Zarek," I breathed out, my hands weaving into his hair.

"I've got you," he assured in a whisper, his breath hot against my skin.

The room was thick with silence, punctuated only by the sound of our breaths. His lips, which had been tracing a path down my stomach, paused at the two tiny, reminders of my past—my stab scars. This was something he didn't see that feverish night. His eyes clouded with something dark for a moment, his touch halting.

"Is this from—"

I cut him off, breathless from the heat of the moment, "Zarek, just leave it."

But he wouldn't let it go, not yet. "I can't just ignore these, Mi Corazón," he murmured.

"It all led me to you," I replied softly, trying to bridge the distance his concern had created. "I don't care anymore, Zarek."

He studied my face for a long moment, as if searching for traces of the pain that had once defined these scars. Then, with a tenderness that made my heart swell, he pressed a gentle kiss on each scar, his breath warm against the chill of my skin.

He lingered there, forehead resting against my stomach, a silent vow passing through his touch. He nodded against my belly, and then slowly, he continued his descent, his movements deliberate. With a careful ease, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of both my shorts and panties, peeling them away in a smooth, deliberate motion.

Grasping my thighs, he parted them, his gaze burning with unmistakable hunger that sent another wave of anticipation through me.

He kissed my inner thigh. "All wet for me, Leora," his lips touched a bit higher towards my knee.

"Stop teasing me," I moaned.

"Is that so, beautiful?"

Suddenly he dove in, flattening his tongue between my legs and sucked hard. His tongue flicked my swollen clit, and his fingers smeared my wetness over my folds.

Before I could take a breath, his finger slid inside me and hooked, hitting the right spot, and I let out a desperate cry.

"Oh God, Zarek!"

I moaned as quietly as I could while latching on to his hair for dear life, pushing him deeper between my thighs, shamelessly grinding on his face. A chuckle led me to stop, and he lifted my hips to get better access.

"So fucking greedy."

One finger replaced two and my soul lit on fire. He didn't separate his lips from my folds and his tongue continued its feral dance over my clit.

"You taste so good, Leora."

He sucked.

Flicked.

Nibbled.

"I could feast on you all fucking day."

I was so damn close, and Zarek's throaty voice started to undo me.

"Come for me, Mi Corazón."

Pleasure ripped through my bones and heat flooded my cheeks as my orgasm hit me. My vision blurred and came back into focus. I could no longer control my loud moans as I descended through the ecstatic high.

" Zarek ," I moaned.

He didn't let go of my clit and let me ride through the end of my white-hot release until my legs shivered and my bones melted. I clutched his head with my thighs and he finally let go.

He rose, cradled my face in his hand, and kissed me senselessly as I came down from the breathless high.

My hands reached down from his abs to his throbbing cock in his sweatpants, but he stopped me.

"It's not about me today. I rejected you too many times. You need to know I want you, Leora," he kissed me again, "I want you. So," kiss , "Damn," kiss , "Much." Kiss.

His hands snaked my waist and he twisted us, so I was lying nearly on top of him. We remained silent for a good few minutes, and then I decided to break the silence.

"Zarek?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to join the squad."

He sighed and then surprisingly chuckled, "I feel used."

I leaned into his warmth, my laughter fading as I noticed the sudden shift in his expression—a shadow of concern.

"You won't have to go through that kind of hell again, Leora." His voice was firm, threaded with a promise that was as heartfelt as it was impossible. His eyes burned with a determination that both comforted and saddened me.

I managed a small, unsure nod, aware of the complexities of his life. This was something I knew he couldn't promise.

My fingers traced a path along his chest, moving up to a small, rugged scar just above his collarbone .

Before I could ask, he caught the curiosity in my gaze and murmured softly. "Bullet wound, three years ago. We walked into an ambush during what was supposed to be a straightforward rescue op."

I didn't stop there. My fingers, trembling, drifted to another scar near his ribs—a stark, jagged line. "Stab wound, about seven years ago," he continued, a shadow passing over his features. "Logan pulled me out of that mess. Saved me for, I think, the twelfth time before I got stabbed again."

My hands found his recently bandaged arm, and my heart ached at the sight. Noticing my concern, he gave me a reassuring smile. "Just a bullet graze from this morning. It's nothing serious—won't even leave a mark."

As I pressed closer, wrapping my arms around him tightly, comforted by the rise and fall of his steady breathing, he broke the silence again, his voice hesitant. "Would you ever tell me about him?"

As I traced idle circles on his chest, my expression clouded with a frown. "It's not really a story worth telling," I began, my voice tinged with hesitation. "I met him at a cafe. He was charming. But looking back, he was also incredibly pushy."

I paused, lifting my gaze to meet Zarek's. "I really don't remember the worst of it. It's called trauma-induced amnesia. I remember bits and pieces leading up to it, though. He was very controlling. Didn't want me to hang out with Ally. He despised her, actually. Then when I got promoted to Resident Psychologist, I was out more. Getting called in at night. He became very protective. At least that's how I defined it then."

Zarek's embrace tightened, his discomfort palpable as I continued. "One night, I got home around four in the morning. I was just taking off my shoes when he threw me against the door. The handle dug into my back, and I screamed. He was ranting about smelling men's perfume on me. I couldn't understand a fucking word. Everything was hazy. That's the day the beatings started. Until eventually, one day, he stabbed me with my own kitchen knife and left the apartment."

Zarek's sigh was laden with a restrained fury. "Baby, this is fucked up. Who found you?"

"My mom," I answered quietly. "She dropped by the next day to leave something—I can't even remember what. But yeah… she found me there."

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw working. To shift the heaviness of our conversation, I added with a half-hearted chuckle, "You know, I had to live with my parents for a year after that? Talk about a different kind of torture."

His eyes softened, and he pulled me closer. "You're the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman I have ever had the privilege to meet, let alone be saved by."

"Privilege to stalk." I corrected, chuckling.

"You know, I wouldn't want to take back that time. I needed every second of it."

I smiled and nestled closer into his embrace. The weight of the past seemed a little lighter with him by my side, and we remained entwined like that until it was time for dinner.