Being in a different bed doesn’t help. I crashed out in Zeth’s spare room last night—he refused to let me or Lacey ‘babysit’ him any further—although I didn’t really pass out until after midnight. I was just too worried about everything floating around in my head. Pippa, and now Oliver, being mad at me. Lexi. Charlie. Julio. My poor mom and dad. Everything. Everything just spinning around and around, a blur of problems with seemingly no end to any of it.
Screw it. I figure I might as well just get up and start the day ridiculously early. Better that than lying here on the verge of a panic attack, anyway. A hot shower wakes me up a little and goes a ways to clearing my head some, but I’m still trying to untangle myself from the mess I’ve found myself in when I slip back into the room I’ve slept in…and see a dark silhouette sitting on the end of the bed. I suppress the scream of surprise that threatens to rip from my vocal chords, my body slumping back against the door. “Zeth! What the hell are you doing?”
He cuts an imposing outline even in the dark—bunched muscles, impressive traps. The lines of his body are barely visible, but they’re remarkable. He leans forward, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “Waiting for you,” he says, his voice rumbling in that beautiful tenor of his.
I’m still bundled in a towel from the shower, water beading over my shoulders. I’m shivering, desperate to dry off and get into some clothes, but I get the feeling Zeth has other ideas. “Are you serious? There’s no way you can be serious.”
“Deadly,” he informs me. My eyes grow accustomed to the dark, and I can make out the shape of him, see the faint glow of moonlight on his bare skin. He’s completely naked. I don’t see any bandages anywhere either, which I’m about to give him hell for, but he speaks in a tone of voice that dares me to even try. “Lose the towel, Sloane.”
Maybe a week ago I would have argued. Maybe less. But after our conversations yesterday, I’m done trying to resist him. At least for now. I drop the towel.
He inhales sharply through his nose. “Turn around,” he growls. I do as I’m told, holding my breath. Rustling sounds reach me; it sounds like he’s standing up. The doctor in me objects—he really is going to do more damage than good if he goes down this path—but I know it’s pointless arguing with him. And after the crash and him being stabbed and watching him wrestle to pull out of his fever, I need this. I need it badly.
“Put your hands against the wall, Sloane.” He’s standing right behind me. The feel of his warm breath against my chilled skin makes me come alive. I jump when a searing heat touches my shoulder and then trails up my neck—his tongue, licking the beads of water from my skin. “I need something from you, angry girl,” he whispers.
“Oh, yeah?” My breath hitches in my throat. The deep resonance of his voice as he whispers his command sends a tidal wave of anticipation through me, even though I get the feeling he’s about to ask something of me that I may be uncomfortable giving.
“I can’t do what I’d like to right now. I can’t tie you up and fuck you ’til you explode, so I have a little game in mind instead. You wanna play?”
There’s no screwing around now. No will I, won’t I in my head. Even before Zeth accused me of being the same as him, of liking this as much as he does, I’ve known it was true. I just wasn’t ready to accept it fully. But now…now fuck it. I have no idea how pliable he wants to make me, but I’m all in. There’s no other way to move forward. “Yes. Yes, I wanna play.”
He traces his finger up my spine, sending a shockwave of nerves through me. “Good. You’ll figure it out as we go along. Close your eyes, Sloane.”
Huh. So he’s not going to help me figure this one out. And he wants me to close my eyes? The room’s already dark, and he wants me to make it even darker. I guess that’s how it is with us, though. We met in the dark—something that Zeth arranged on purpose. It adds a certain electrifying element to the sex. And I know Zeth well enough to know that he didn’t switch the light off in that hotel room because he was embarrassed or he didn’t want me to see his face. He did it because it robs you of a defense mechanism.
As children, the majority of us are innately afraid of the dark. It’s an unknown entity, and can hide innumerable frights and scares. The bogeyman; the monsters under the bed; the ghosts hiding in the closet. It takes strength to overcome those fears as we grow older. Strength to analyze our dread and learn to accept it. To learn from it. To embrace it. In his own warped way, I think Zeth hides us away in the dark because he wants to make me fearless. It’s taking time, but I’m slowly becoming less and less gripped by panic whenever I find myself in this position.