“No. It’s not.” He releases her, carefully though, hands still poised to catch her again if she lunges for me once more. But as he lets go of her, his gaze drifts to me, his eyes dark and serious. “Love is not toxic or controlling. It’s not spying on people and hurting innocent bystanders in the process.” He locks eyes with me. “I know what real love is now.”
My mouth falls open as I look at him, a flurry of sparks setting off in my belly. Does he mean…?
Just then, the door bursts open once more. Zayne steps away from Hannah as the woman who poked her head in before returns, now with a couple of police officers in tow.
“What’s going on here?” the cop asks.
I open my mouth to explain, but I don’t need to because Hannah chooses that moment to lose it again.
She’s been shooting me death rays ever since Zayne looked my way. Even more since he said those words. Words that haven’t stopped echoing in my head since he said them. I know what real love is now.
“You whore!” Hannah flings herself at me again, and I raise my hands over my face defensively.
The officers catch her before we collide again. It takes both of them to wrestle her into handcuffs, and only when they’ve finally subdued her do they ask us what happened. Zayne takes over, explaining about how Hannah has been following him, hacking into his phone. At that point, I interrupt to explain that my company, which Hannah also works for, is pursuing a lawsuit against her for hacking their equipment. Zayne catches my eye at that, startled. Hannah, for her part, just continues to yell from the corner, calling me a slut and a man-stealing whore until the other cop finally frog-marches her outside to sit down while we finish explaining the situation to his partner.
In the end, they book Hannah. Through it all, though, Zayne keeps hold of my hand, his fingers tight around mine, his touch giving me the strength to see through the end of this nightmare at last.
“I didn’t know she worked at your company,” he murmurs. “I haven’t spoken to her in years. She sends me messages now and again, but I delete them unread—they’re usually too crazy, too upsetting to read.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. It’s over now. Work will figure it out; I’ll explain it all to my boss…”
When the police car lights finally fade in the distance, and we’re left alone at last on the edge of Central Park, the last obstacle in our path finally removed, I collapse against him, relieved and exhausted at once. Zayne wraps his arms around me tightly, strong and reassuring as always, even now. Even after dragging up all of his own personal past shit, and confronting a person he used to care about, a person who has gone off the rails with her abuse.
“Did you mean what you said?” I murmur, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He smiles down at me. Plants a soft kiss on my lips. My strong savior, he doesn’t even look ruffled, even after all of that. “What I said when?”
“In the bathroom. When Hannah was yelling at you, you said…” I pause. Shake my head, because my throat has gone tight again just remembering. “You said you know what real love is now…”
“I do.” His eyes stay locked on mine, burning into me, snagging my gaze the way nobody else can. “You taught me that, Clove.” He nudges my chin, tilts my head up further, and leans in to kiss me once more, slower, softer. When our lips part, I sigh, leaning unconsciously closer to him, our bodies pressed together. “I love you, Clove.”
“I love you, Zayne.” I laugh faintly, breathless. “It’s crazy, but—”
“Who cares?” He grins and kisses me again, and that kiss is breathing again after years of drowning. That kiss is finally feeling all the puzzle pieces click into place. “I love you, you crazy beautiful woman.”
“I love you, you crazy handsome doorman.” I smirk, and he laughs and smacks my ass in response. “Do me one favor though?” I add, lifting an eyebrow.
“Anything for you.” He runs a hand through my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead before he plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
“When we’re telling everyone how we met, do not tell them you won me over with a sext message.”
He bursts into laughter then, and sweeps me off my feet into a low dip, planting a kiss on me as he does. I laugh against his mouth, until the kiss turns deep, slow, serious, and our mouths part, his tongue entwining with mine, exploring my mouth. He straightens, draws me back up against him, and slides one hand down to grip my ass, pulling me up against him.
I arch my hips, lean against his strong body, and wrap my arms around his neck.
“I promise nothing of the sort,” he murmurs, just before he dips to kiss along my neck, his mouth searing against my skin in the cool night air.
I sigh and let my head fall back, let him kiss me wherever he wants, touch me any way he wants. “Ah well, nobody’s perfect,” I reply in a whisper as he kisses along my throat now. “I suppose I can live with all of your friends thinking I’m a huge slut.”
“As long as this particular slut is all mine, I’m happy.” He winks.
I laugh and swat his shoulder.
In response, he dips to fling me over one shoulder. I cry out as he stands, and kick my legs in feeble protest. But he’s already walking away from the park, toward our apartment building.
“Now, if you’re my slut, I believe that means I should have my way with you… Again.”
Those words send a spark of desire through me. I’m surprised to find that I’m already getting wet just thinking about what he’ll do to me tonight when we get back to the apartment.
“Promises, promises,” I repeat, and that earns me another spank, which sends shivers through me.
Okay, so one slutty photo may have nearly upended my life. But now that we have our privacy back, I have to admit, being slutty wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, it landed me right in the arms of the hottie I never noticed standing right in front of me…
Thank you for reading!
Bang
Copyright © 2017 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitte
d in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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1
As I open the door to the coffee shop, the blast of air conditioning is a welcome change from the hot Phoenix sunshine, but it can’t save me from my sister’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“Keith Overton asked about you.”
I sigh. Of course, the one thing my sister wants to talk about is my love life. “The same Keith Overton who used to call me ‘Christine with the extra fifteen?’”
“Oh, come on. He only said that because he liked you.”
“Call me crazy, sis, but I prefer men who don’t insult me.”
There’s an audible sigh. “Well, some people are beginning to wonder if you prefer men at all.”
“Are you kidding me?” My voice comes out way too loudly, and every head in the café turns to look at me. A blush rises to my cheeks and I look down at the floor and lower my voice. “I’m not a lesbian. Even if I were, it’s nobody’s business. Why the hell does anyone in that town care about who I’m dating?”
“You know people here,” she says in that sickly sweet voice that she uses to tell me to ‘be nice.’ “We all just want to see you settled down and happy.”
I grind my teeth together. I don’t know how many times I’ve had this conversation with my family, and every time I do, it’s like it goes in one ear and out the other. It’s like I’m speaking an alien language or something. “Hold on, Catherine.” I’ve reached the front of the line. “I’ll take the biggest iced coffee you’ve got.”
I move to the side and take a deep breath, preparing myself. “Catherine, I’m not sure why no one believes me when I say this, but I am happy. I’m much happier here in Phoenix than I would be in Aguila. I don’t want to ‘settle down.’ So chill, okay?”