"You done snooping?"
"The only room I'm interested in snooping around in is the bedroom, Sloane. Right now I'm just making sure your house is secure. And it is."
"I know. I spent thousands of dollars making sure it was burglar proofed when I moved in. Now if you don't mind, I have housework I should be doing."
Zeth smirks, like the idea of me doing housework is the funniest shit ever. "This friend of yours, the doctor," he says. "I want to meet her."
"What?"
"I want to meet her."
"Why?"
"So I can gage whether she can help with Lacey."
Help with Lacey? That takes a moment to sink in. Is he asking for help for his friend? Never in a million years did I think he would ask that. Mostly because the girl seemed adamant that she didn’t want help. It doesn’t matter that she promised me back in the hospital—I’ve been lied to by enough people to know when someone is telling me something they think I want to hear.
“My friend’s name is Pippa. And why the hell should I help you?”
A reckless smile curves Zeth’s mouth upward on one side. “Pippa, huh?” He looks like he’s enjoying some secret joke. He stalks slowly across the living room, his face suddenly all danger and destruction. I feel like I’m being hunted. I back up as he gets closer but the damn wall stops me after three paces. Zeth leans into me and grazes the bridge of his nose across my jawline, breathing in a deep breath. Inhaling me. “You’re going to help me for four reasons.” His hands rise up and find my hips, working slowly over my body, taking their time, until he reaches into my jeans pocket and pulls out my phone. I remain frozen solid the whole time, rooted to the spot. He’s touching me. He’s touching me and it’s broad daylight.
“One,” he says, dropping his eye contact to look down at my phone, “you’re going to call Pippa because I asked you to. That’s the only reason you’re ever going to need from here on in.” He starts keying the buttons, then, scrolls across the touch screen, frowning gently. “Two: you’re going to call Pippa because you’re a doctor and you want to help Lacey.”
He hits the call button on my cell and holds it out to me. I take it from him, slightly dazed by the fact that he’s so close to me and I’m practically drunk off the smell of him, and also because I can’t say no. He’s already too commanding, too powerful, too confident in himself for me to doubt that I’ll do what he’s telling me. The phone starts to ring in my ear.
“Three: you’re going to do what I ask you because I’ve decided I’m going to help you. I’m going to help you find Alexis.” He raises his a finger to my lips to stop my from saying anything before I can get a word out—no thank you, no it’s about fucking time. Nothing. “And fourthly…” He bites down on his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth, and I know I’m ruined. I’m ruined for every other man on the face of the planet. He leans close again, pressing his lips against the shell of my ear. I’m shaking before his hand even slides down the front of my jeans. “Fourthly, Sloane, I’m about to make you come. And you’re going to be very grateful.” The pressure from his index and middle fingers parting me, working my pussy lips apart to find my clitoris, makes me gasp.
“Are you ready?”
I tense every single muscle in my body. A deviant spark flares in his eyes, daring me to deny him. I don’t. I can’t. He slides his fingers forward, groaning, pushing them inside of me, his gaze firmly fixed on me. I suck in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to let my eyes roll back into my head.
“Sloane? Sloane? Are you there?”
I haven’t even noticed the dial tone stopped ringing in my ear. “Shit.”
“Well, hello to you, too.” Pippa sounds mildly entertained by my greeting. Zeth looks about as evil as a man can as he thrusts his fingers inside me even harder.
“You want me to stop?” he whispers.
I shake my head.
“Then you’d better get talking.”
A penetrating wave of pleasure shudders through my body. I can’t do it anymore—I close my eyes. This is it. He’s going to be the end of me. I can feel it.
“Pippa, hi…I…I need to ask you a favour.”
Whoo! I wrote a book! Thanks for everyone who supported me through this process. There are quite a few people to acknowledge, but first I have to thank my man. Without you, baby, I’d be a gibbering wreck, still trying to figure out how to open photoshop! Thanks for cooking me dinner, making sure I brushed my hair before I left the house, bringing my copious amounts of wine, and generally ensuring that our apartment didn’t go up in flames at any point.
Marion Archer, the best editor ever, your kind words and witty commentary made revisions actually fun! Thanks for all your hard work and putting up with my ridiculously tight deadlines!