Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(51)

“Yeah, just my dad checking in on me.”

The couple across the road starts yelling, catching my attention. Pulling the curtain back, I spot them on the lawn pointing and screaming. They do this once a week, before nearly screwing on the front yard. Fixing the curtain, I head toward the radio and turn it on, a commercial about pizza coming on.

Zeek picks up the bag he brought in and heads into my bathroom.

“What’s in the bag?” I follow behind him.

One by one, he takes out three bottles of bubbles.

“I wasn’t sure which one you’d like.”

I smirk, holding up the one closest to me. “You got me one that smells like sprinkles.” The fact that he remembers I love sprinkles hits me in every fuzzy way possible. Opening the lid, I inhale the candy smelling soap.

He smiles that big, toothy grin and turns the faucet on.

It’s a hard choice between Mr. Bubbles and sprinkles. I bite my lip, trying to decide.

“How about we do sprinkles tonight, and Mr. Bubbles tomorrow.” I hand him the sugar sprinkles, and he dumps a shit-load in. Steam and bubbles waft into the air.

Standing, he pulls his sweatshirt off, and then his shirt. His gilded abs nearly blind me with their perfection.

“What are you doing?” My eyes are glued to his chest.

“I’m getting in with you.” He says it like it’s obvious.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Seeing those girls on him, it still stings a little bit.

Grabbing both sides of my face roughly, he forces my eyes to focus on his. “Jillian, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know we were doing the whole monogamy thing. It seemed like a trap destined for failure. I have never been exclusive before, so I didn’t think twice about it.”

“And now?”

His brows furrow, his jaw ticking with thought. “And now, I’ll be a one-woman man, because even if I don’t want to be, you’ve made my cock a one-woman kind of guy. He seems to only like you. It’s agonizing.” The way he says that last part, it comes out like he’s literally in pain and I can’t help but smile.

“Okay, I’ll take that. But if you so much as look at another woman, I will shove my nightstick up your ass hole.” The threat leaving my mouth catches me by surprise, the jealousy and heartache poured in it coming from a place unknown.

He turns, his body bulked and much larger than mine. His eyes flaring with something sexual, his nostrils flaring. “Your threats turn me the f*ck on.” His hand grips my hair, his lips brushing against mine seductively. “I don’t need to warn you about f*cking around on me. If a man so much as looks your way longer than I like?” He smirks like the Devil. “He’ll have a bullet hole in his skull.”

My nostrils flare, but I’m not sure if it’s from fear or lust. His jealousy turns my body to butter.

“Now, let’s get in the damn bath.” He runs his hand through his hair and starts kicking off his shoes.

I’ve never had a bubble bath with someone else. Looking at my tub, I’m not sure how both of us will even fit.

He pulls a nine millimeter pistol from his waistband and sets it on the clothes basket. His eyes meet mine knowingly. I bet it’s not registered. Any other day, I would nag the hell out of him, feel guilty, and push him out the door in horror. But tonight, I’m thanking the gods that he’s armed, and I’m finding it to be quite a turn-on that he’s carrying.

His belt buckle jangles as he loosens it, and he pulls his jeans and boxers down all at once, his dick springing free with force. Like it’s been hard for hours and it’s finally free.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he rasps arrogantly. Turning quickly, I pull my white tank top off, and Zeek grabs the strap to my bra. Once unclasped, my breasts fall freely, and a sigh escapes my lips.

“Does that feel good?” he whispers against the back of my head. His hands slide around and cup my breasts, massaging them. My knees go weak and my eyes close. It feels so good.

“Mmm.”

Sliding his hands down, he unbuckles my pants, pulling them down before he kneels.

Large palms grasp my ass cheeks. “You have the perfect ass.” If he keeps admiring me like he is, there is no way we’ll make it into the bathtub.

He hooks a finger on each side of my panties and slowly slides them down my thighs. An erotic cry ripples up my throat.

Velcro sounds as he undoes the boot the doctor gave me.

“Is your leg okay?”

“It hurts, I know that. The X-rays were inconclusive, so I’m supposed to wear this thing more for precaution than anything.” Carefully, he removes it, along with my pants and panties. The care and ease of his movements is foreign; he’s usually so rough and angry.

Kissing the back of my calf, his hands caress every inch of my legs, thighs, and ass. “I’ll make it better.”

I turn, wanting him to make it feel better now. Standing, he kisses my lips feverishly. Hooking my arms around him, I moan into his mouth. I missed the taste of him; I can’t explain it, but it’s warm, sensual with a hint of mint.

“Easy. You need to get a warm bath first, because your body is going to tense and then we aren’t going to get to do anything.” His hands rest on my arms, his forehead against mine.

“Okay,” I whisper.