Sea Storm: Children of the Waves (8 page)

She groaned.
Too much.
When she tried to pull away from him, she discovered he
wouldn’t let go. She gazed into his eyes and bore witness to a turbulent sea of
raw need and desire—for her. And maybe she saw something else, too. He
deserved the truth, if for no other reason than he saved her life once. “Yes.
You did. You know you did.”

“I’ve fantasized about you for so long,
but none of my fantasies have done you justice.” He clasped her hand tighter.
“Come. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll try to explain everything.”

They walked side by side to return to his
home. At no time, did he release her. They took a different path than the one
she’d used, and came to another set of sliding glass doors. He pushed them
open, and moved aside, at the same time, beckoning her to enter first.

She stepped across the threshold and
paused, taking in the scene before her. She could label it life styles of the
uber rich and famous.

From the landing she observed the sunken
room; a circular bed took center stage in the space. It stood to the right of
where they entered. The soft glow from a lamp near the bed illuminated most of
the room for her. The bedding reminded her of the swirling color of storms.
Shades of gray with streaks of lightning. The walls were stucco style. If she
touched them, they would feel rough. They too, were painted a lighter shade of
gray, almost white. And there were touches of sea green throughout the room, in
the large comfortable chair in the corner, the pillows on the bed. No paintings
adorned the walls. Possibly because none might compare to the natural beauty in
the light of day revealed by the ocean behind her.

Sections of floor to ceiling windows made
up an entire wall. The darkness of the night hid the water from her sight, but
she could hear and smell the salty scent of the sea. Lulling her to drop her
defenses. One of the window sections nearest the bed, stood partially open. The
breeze blew the gauzy curtains into the room, and some touched the headboard in
a slow caress. The action teased and enticed the senses to come in and lay upon
the bed. If she accepted the silent invitation, she would not be alone.

Yet, she continued to move forward and
took a step down, farther into his bedroom. She heard the soft click of the
door shutting behind her. Her heartbeat raced, to what finish she didn’t know.
Moments later, his heat pushed at her spine. She tilted her head to glance back
at him.

He moved around until he stood in front
of her. Taking both of her hands in his, he raised them to his lips, kissing
each palm.

Her heart banged against her rib cage.

“I have sand all over me,” he said. He
released one of her hands and caressed the side of her face. “I think there’s
sand in your hair, too.”

She’d deluded herself, she knew to what
end her presence would lead. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the depths.
“And probably some other places.”

Zek grinned. “No doubt. Come. Take a
shower with me.” He didn’t wait for her reply.

Nor, would she deny him when he walked
away, tugging her behind him and headed in the direction of a closed door
almost as wide as the double doors to his room.

He opened this oversized door and stepped
across the threshold. Raising his arm, he touched a wall switch, bringing soft
light into the space.

Whoa! What an unbelievable room. At first
glance, everything in it appeared porcelain white, but in actuality, her vision
soon picked up a very faint shade of blue. Further accented with nickel-plated
faucets or accessories in a similar color. A soaking tub sat in one corner, but
you had to go up two steps to enter it. Wide enough, it took up half the wall
in that area and had windows on two sides. Definitely, large enough for three
linebackers to easily fit in there. A walk-in shower with a dual showerhead
stood to the right.

Zek released her hand and moved over to a
small door. When he opened it, a light automatically came on.

Her gaze rested on the light blue and
white towels on the shelves.

He took out two and placed them on the platform
of the tub, near the shower side.

Des spotted another door in the bathroom
about the size of the one they’d entered.

Still holding her hand, he moved in that
direction and opened it.

The light overhead suddenly came on,
revealing an artichoke-shaped chandelier in the center of the closet. She’d
never seen anything like it. “Ohmygod!” His closet stood off the bathroom
instead of the bedroom. She loved his closet. She followed behind him but
released his hand, so she could stand in the doorway and stare. Her gaze didn’t
know what to rest on as she looked around and watched him move farther into the
space.

The entire bathroom and closet were
almost the size of her small one bedroom condo back home. The man had racks
upon racks of clothes. Suits of all different colors, a section for ties, a
wall for cubbies with shoes, boots, jeans, shirts. Funny thing, the area didn’t
appear even half full, plenty of empty space in there.
A his and hers closet?
She wondered who would take up the remaining
space in this man’s wardrobe and his life.

“Damn. I want one of these,” she said.
The moment she uttered those words she realized something else, her gaze swung
to his. She wanted the man. Mentally, she gave herself a shake.
Stupid.
A man like him could never be hers.
How could she trust anything that happened between them? She couldn’t trust.

Plus, he might have other issues. Like he
suffered from a delusion causing him to question his membership in the human
race.

Although, as she glanced around she would
agree he didn’t live like most humans.

A round ottoman took center stage on the
floor and a pair of sandals rested on the pearl-colored carpet under it. So
far, she’d only found carpeting in this room. All the others were either wide
four-inch sand-colored wood flooring or ceramic tiles, with plenty of area
rugs. She gasped as she dug her toes into the weave, having never walked on
anything so soft.

He turned from the open drawer he’d been
rifling through to look at her and grinned. “You like?”

“I love.”

He tossed what looked like boxers and
t-shirts unto the ottoman, then moved over to one corner and grabbed two robes.

She briefly wondered who last shared that
second robe. Especially, when he handed it to her. Clearly a little smaller in
size and made for a woman. Shit, what did she expect? Uber wealthy, drop your
drawers gorgeous, which she’d already done. She needed to stop fantasizing
about him, about him being special, about them being special. Yes, he saved
her. He was a nice guy but she couldn’t allow herself to believe there could
ever be more than this time together.

Something inside of her clenched and
cried out in pain.

“Thank you,” she said. Taking the robe
and moving away from him, she returned to the bath area and placed the robe on
the vanity. She glanced in the mirror to watch as he turned the shower on.
Damn. Could she do this, again? Maybe she should just go back to her room.

Then—the man stripped. It’d been
too dark earlier to see all the details of his tattoos but they ran along his
side, from the waist down and angled toward his dick in the form of a wave. He
hadn’t a shred of hair anywhere on his body. His long and full sex pulsed,
growing larger as she stared.

Her eyes tracked a bead forming at the
slit of his cock and an answering rush of warmth flowed between her legs.
Traitor.
Her own body prepared for him
yet again.

Chapter
Eight

Zek didn’t give her any time to over
think anything. From the moment they’d entered the bathroom and he’d turned on
the shower, he’d sensed a cooling in her. He’d been afraid of that. He’d moved
too quickly, told her too much. He kept forgetting—
human
, but in truth, he knew no other way than to be truthful with
her. When he caught her ogling him in the mirror, he smiled at her seeing him
as the gods had created him. “Your turn,” he said, then turned, opened the
shower door again and stepped in. He placed his head under the river of warm
water and closed his eyes as the cascade washed the sand off. But every part of
him tuned in to the woman on the other side of the glass doors. He heard the
rustle of her clothing falling to her feet onto the floor. His lungs stopped
working as he waited for the sound of the door opening and then he felt her
warm palm on his arm.

One touch and his heart pumped all of his
blood straight to his cock.

Only then, did he open his eyes and lift
his head to look into the depths of Des. The heat from the shower soon caused
the glass to fog. The warmth sizzling back and forth between them had his
hunger for her reaching starvation status. Without breaking eye contact from
his bride, he took the soap from the small shelf, ran it over her shoulders and
down her arms.

She stood perfectly still, just watching
him, though her chest rose and fell in concert with his. When his hands glided
to her plush breasts and he rubbed the soap around one areola and then the
other, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

He took that as an invitation and leaned
forward, capturing her chin then her mouth with his. But he pulled back, unsure
where the strength came from to do that. He’d promised to get the sand out of
her hair and he would, first. They had many, many days and nights for
everything else he planned on doing to her for as long as they both lived. He
stepped back but kept one hand on her waist.

She raised her head so the water would
beat down on her face.

He immediately replaced the body soap.
“Turn around,” he prompted, “take a couple of steps out of the flow of water
and let me wash your hair.”

She did and he reached for one of the
bottles on the shelf in the corner pouring the liquid into his hand, then
lathering her hair. Running his fingers through her strands and massaging her
scalp. He felt sand at her nape and made sure he rinsed it out, but when she
seemed to relax into his touch and groaned—he took a little longer.

“Do you have any conditioner?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ll use some of that, too.”

“Please. And while that’s in my hair,
I’ll take care of yours then rinse the conditioner from mine.”

He smiled and kissed the side of her
shoulder. After he finished rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, he lathered
her with conditioner.

“Hmm…I love the smell of that. It’s like
a sea breeze.”

“Mmm…I love the way you smell,” he
countered.

“I could let you do this all day.”

His dick jerked and rubbed against her
ass.

She pressed back into him.

“I’d rather do something else,” he
whispered softly.

Instead of acting on his arousal, she
turned within his arms and reached on the other side of him, making sure her
breast brushed his arm as she grabbed the shampoo. “Turn,” she commanded.

He did and then she placed her hands on
the back of his head but then removed them.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder at
her.

“You’re too tall. You’re going to have to
face me.”

He complied and bent his head, so she
could reach his hair. “I love the feel of your fingers in my hair. You have
magic hands,” he stated. When she finished, he straightened up and tilted his
head under the water to rinse out the soap. He rubbed his hand across his face
to clear the water and saw the smile on Des’ face. “You’re beautiful.” He
wanted to say something else to her. What he felt in his heart all of these
years. The many times he thought about her. And as they stood there, finally
together, what he knew to be true.

The curse and the blessing of Poseidon’s
children. They loved their mates. He only prayed as a human she could love him
back. But he wasn’t the descendant of a god for nothing. If she didn’t love him
now, she soon would.

Zek stepped forward and wrapped his arms
around her, drawing her flush against him while backing her up until she
touched the cool tile wall. He bent a little and grabbed one leg, raising it
until she wrapped it around his waist. When he grasped her bottom, she lifted
the other leg. He picked her up a little, then lowered her onto his aching,
waiting, shaft.

She came down on him.

Immediately enclosed in her heat, he
pulsed and her sex muscles gripped him. Not letting him go. He flexed his
pelvis, tightened his hold on her ass to continue pinning her to the wall.
Steam surrounded them. He only waited a moment to catch his breath before
moving in and out of her.

Her heels dug into the top of his ass,
and her nails clawed him on his shoulders.

“Yes, gods, yes. Mark me. Own me. Take
me,” he growled before he captured her lips with his. Pumping into her quickly
a few times he would flex and tighten his gluts once more. Pressure coursed
through his body and erupted into her, seeking her womb. His entire body shook
from his release. They both trembled. Slowly, he lowered her to the wet floor
and then himself, but he gathered her into his arms. He stretched his legs out
and placed her on his lap, his back to the falling water.