35. Hidden Talents

35

HIDDEN TALENTS

Z ander landed on his back with a thump, the air knocked out of him for a second and by the time Regan moved around and straddled his hips and sat down, the wide look in his eyes had diminished some.

“Did I surprise you?” she asked.

“You did,” he said.

“Are you going to think I’m a helpless woman again?” she asked. Her hand reached around and cupped his balls and squeezed more than a playful motion.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

She squeezed more and he flinched. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You do know that I can overtake you right now if I wanted to, right?”

More pressure. “Just like I could have finished you off after I had the element of surprise on my side. I’d say we are even and I didn’t even need to pull a gun out. Back to my question. Do you still think I’m helpless?”

“No,” he said, his voice almost squeaking. “You’ve taught me several times how strong you are.”

She let up on the pressure and all but pet him like she would a dog, then slid up more and put her lips to his.

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I’m glad I didn’t pull a muscle. But my back might be just as sore as my hand tomorrow.”

“I’ll rub your back for you,” he said. “If you do it for me too.”

“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” she said. She moved off of him. “Roll over and I’ll do it now.”

“On the floor?” he asked.

“Maybe I don’t want to walk upstairs. Maybe I’ve found this whole situation a major turn-on. You’d want me to play off of that, right?”

“Of course,” he said, rolling on his stomach. She moved over and grabbed a pillow from the couch.

“Do you need another?”

He picked that one up and put it under his head, his arms crossed above his head.

“No,” he said.

“Lift up,” she said. “Shirt off. It’s no fun if you’re clothed.”

“You’re bossy too,” he said. “I think I like it.”

“We all have hidden talents,” she said.

Once his shirt was off, he lay back down and she got in position straddling his hips, her hands going to his shoulders and starting to rub and squeeze them.

“Speaking of those talents,” he said. “Want to tell me how you learned to do that? I’m sure you’ve got more up your sleeve.”

“I do,” she said. “And just so you know. If I was afraid of you and needed to get away, after I did that I’d run.”

“What if I grabbed your ankle?”

“Then I would have kicked you with the one you didn’t grab. Right in the face. If I had heels on, I’d go for your eye.”

His shoulders got tense. “Good girl. Someone taught you those things.”

“They did,” she said. “When I was in college I chose to take a self-defense course over gym credits. There was a lot of crime in the area. Not on campus, but there was a big push on campus for the women to take the course and so they offered that.”

“Good choice,” he said.

“It beat playing volleyball or some other thing I’d have to run around doing. Sports had never been much of my thing,” she said. “But just a reminder to you, that I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to my safety and I listen to reasonable advice.”

Her hands moved down his back to his spine and the heels of her hands pressed deeply.

He let out a moan. “Have you thought of a career as a massage therapist? You could be helping people that way too.”

“Never crossed my mind,” she said. “I reserve this for those who deserve my personal attention.”

“I’m honored,” he said. “But you did put me flat on my back.”

“And you’d like that to stay a secret between us?” she asked. She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder and then down his arm.

He didn’t seem to mind she wasn’t giving the massage right now.

Miles didn’t need to know this, but Zander had one hell of a body on him that turned her on just thinking about touching it.

She felt safe with him and it had nothing to do with him carrying or knowing how to fire a gun.

It had everything to do with his presence.

The air of confidence he let off and the ability to control a situation or read a room.

She thought she was good at those things and had proven it to him on a few of his cases.

Not just the ones earlier on where she went to dinner to help him stake out a situation.

But other ones he was working on. Like Sophia’s.

“There is a man’s ego to take into consideration,” he said.

Her hands were moving down his arms as her mouth was kissing his neck. “I’m good at taking people’s feelings into consideration.”

He rolled fast, before she even knew he was going to do it, and she found herself on her back.

Her arms were pinned above her head by his and he had a massive smirk on his face.

“Told you I could turn the tables.”

“Maybe I wanted you to do that,” she said, spreading her legs a little wider for him.

“What else do you want?” he asked.

“If you need to ask I might not have done that well at expressing myself. And here I’ve worked so hard in my life to do it.”

“Oh,” he said. “You express yourself well.”

He released her hands, lifted the bottom of her shirt up and over her head. While he took care of her jeans, she undid her bra, then he removed his jeans also until they were both naked on her living room floor behind the couch where she’d flipped him not that long ago.

“Will you think badly of me if I told you that I liked feeling helpless a minute ago?”

“No,” he said, grabbing both of her wrists in one of his large hands.

His mouth crushed hers, her legs moved apart and he got into position and thrust into her fast while he braced himself on his other hand.

She wasn’t so sure how long he could do that and hold himself up and she wasn’t going to put it to the test.

She had a heat pulsing through her body like never before and it wasn’t going to take long for her to get to that wonderful island of pleasure that Zander delivered her to each time they were together.

Her hips were bucking up, his were slamming her back down.

Their mouths were moving as ferociously as the rest of their bodies.

When her back started to arch, he released her hands and got up on his knees, lifting her under her back at the same time until she was suspended over the floor a few inches in his hands.

She felt like a limp doll that he was using and she didn’t care one bit.

“That’s it,” she said. She was leaning back more to let him go deeper yet, his hips moving in and out until she screamed out his name, her muscles all but clutching him tight and throbbing around him. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he said. “Not yet.”

But then he did stop and she felt him coming as he held himself inside her deep. She gave her body over to him and knew he wouldn’t drop her on the floor.

He didn’t. When he was done, he lowered her gently, then rolled so that he was on his side and she was cuddled against his chest.

“That was so nice,” she said. “I should throw you on the floor more often.”

He laughed softly. “You know I love you, right?”

He didn’t normally say it. Nor did he say it this softly. “I do,” she said. “You know I feel the same way, right?”

“I do,” he said. “Scary as fuck.”

“It is,” she said. “Don’t be afraid for me. Please. I’m fine. I thought I just proved it.”

“You did,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I’m still not going to worry, but I’ll worry a little less.”

“That’s better than nothing,” she said. “And now we can figure out dinner while I text my father.”

“You just needed to let out some aggression and use my body to get yourself in a better frame of mind for that. Admit it?”

She sat up and looked around for her clothes. “Would that insult you if it was the case?”

“Nope,” he said. “Use me anytime you want.”

“Good to know.”