Shaken (8 page)

“Hey yourself.” He extended his arms and stiffened in a long stretch. Zip feasted on the sight of his corded muscles, before he closed his arms around her and nuzzled a kiss to her forehead.

“Hmmm.” She covered her mouth. Her cheeks scalded anew. Maybe she’d get over the need to blush around him eventually. For now, she swallowed a little chuckle of embarrassment. “Morning breath isn’t so pretty.”

“But you are.” He brushed the hair away from her face. She’d not braided her hair before falling asleep; it was probably a wild rat’s nest of curls and bedhead. He groaned a little. “That blush of yours is going to kill me.”

If anything, his words made her burn hotter, and she burrowed into the blankets, pulling the sheet up to hide her face.

Tony laughed. “Do you mind if I borrow your shower?”

“Of course not, but do you have to get up so soon?” Truth be told, she didn’t think she could. She was sore in all the right places. But a low coil of tension had already begun in her belly.

“Unfortunately, I do.” He shifted upward with a half-smothered yawn and grabbed his watch from the nightstand. “I have to get the club ready to open. I’m due there by five.”

Zip groaned. “No.” She elongated the vowel and pouted until Tony scooped her close for a hard kiss. “You need to stay in bed with me.”

“I want to, but opening the tills and getting the bar set is why they pay me the big bucks.”

She jutted her lower lip, but his grin was infectious, and she pointed to the bathroom. “Clean towels are in the cabinet behind the door. Help yourself, and I’ll go make us some coffee.”

“Thank you. I’ll be quick.”

“You weren’t this morning.” She rolled onto her side, unwilling to miss the view. His ass was gorgeous, the buttocks angling in a gentle slope from his hips, hard and firm, rippling with every step. She licked her lips, waiting to see him turn.

“See something you like?” Tony’s teasing voice dragged her attention upward, and she hid her smile beneath the sheet.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Coffee?”

She couldn’t miss the archness or the humor in the request, and she laughed; her cheeks ached from how much she’d smiled in the last few hours. “I promise. As soon as you get in the shower.”

“Hmm. If I’d known you liked to watch so much, we’d have made use of your mirror.” He pointed at the one on her dresser, a hulking antique that weighed a hundred pounds, but so worth every muscle strain she’d gotten to lug it into the room. It filled the whole wall above her dresser, double the size of the one in her bathroom.

Intrigued, she sat and looked from him to the glass.

“Don’t do that, baby,” he groaned. “I really can’t be late for work.”

“But you can come back after work.” Doubt punctured her confidence, and she offered a hesitant, “If you want to, that is.”

His mouth turned upward. “I would love to. But I don’t get off until one. It’s a Saturday, so I usually work over a little.”

Relief that it was the lateness that worried him and not the invitation buoyed her.

“I don’t mind. I’ll even cook you dinner.” She’d have to grab a cab and get to the shop when Tony left. She didn’t even have real milk in her fridge, just stolen creamers from her last couple of restaurant trips.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I actually like to cook, but I never get the excuse.” All true. But what if it really had only been a one-night thing and he didn’t want to be tied into a commitment of any kind. She really did suck at dating.

Tony laid his clothes over the foot of the bed and circled around to cup her cheek. Her breath clogged in her throat. His fingers were warm, rough, and smooth. He dipped his head and gave her another hard kiss. His forehead rested against hers for a moment.

“I’d love to come over tonight. Is there anything you’d like me to pick up and bring with me for dinner?”

“Condoms.” She didn’t want to run out. Ever.

Interest lit his eyes, and a laugh shook him. “First stop, before I even get to the bar.”

Another graze of his lips to hers and he strode into her bathroom. She listened for the water to come on, and the pipes rattled for a moment before settling. Collapsing against the pillows, Zip beat her fists on the covers and kicked her legs with unrestrained joy.

The day just couldn’t get any better.

Now what the hell do I cook?

****

Tony whistled as he let himself into Coveted. He kept a change of clothes in a locker, so he didn’t have to hike all the way to his apartment to grab his stuff, and he had Sunday night off. That meant once he got Zip in bed, he planned to keep her there until they couldn’t move. He jogged up the steps and called out a greeting to the owner sitting in the corner going over the previous night’s receipts. It took him ten minutes to trade his uniform pants and dress shirt out. Fortunately, he didn’t mind running commando for the evening.

He stowed the paper bag of freshly bought condoms with his gear. The verve in his step hadn’t been there in weeks, and, for the first time since the nightmare with Robin began, he felt more like himself. Pausing behind the bar, he flipped the equipment on and checked the liquor store, then unlocked the cages holding the pricier stuff and grabbed a cloth.

Pausing by the register, he gave his daughter’s photo a little brush and then began the task of setting the bar back and loading the clean glasses into their slots. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Derek’s face appeared on the screen, and his good mood evaporated. Thumbing it on, he tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“Yo.”

“Yo yourself. Thought you might want to know I had a request from the judge first thing this morning for all the affidavits filed by friends and family on both sides. He also requested a meeting with Robin and her attorney.”

“Without us?” Cold heat swept through him.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. The judge is clarifying three questions. He ran them all by me, and we’re better off not being there for that. I want Robin to feel safe when she answers them.”

Tony forced his fingers to uncurl from a glass. “What are the questions?”

“The first was why she elected to tell you the baby was yours. According to her sworn affidavit, she said she wasn’t sure at the time, but thought the baby was. But, if you remember, in court, she admitted she knew you weren’t Lindsey’s biological father, but she didn’t want to raise a baby by herself so chose the easier lie.” Derek’s words carried no hint of judgment, but that was a bitter pill for Tony to swallow regardless. Robin had invited him out to a special dinner, taken him to his favorite restaurant, ordered all their favorite things, and then announced her pregnancy with enthusiasm and joy.

He’d been blown away. Just six months shy of finishing his thesis, he’d already been lining up work. Robin had changed every single one of his plans with two words:
I’m pregnant
. He’d never resented it before, even when she admitted in the courtroom she’d been
torn
about telling him that, but she didn’t want to be a single mother, and their daughter’s so-called real father, the fucking biological contributor, hadn’t been the type to settle down.

Tony was.

“Tony?” Derek’s voice punched through the buzz in his ears.

“I’m here.”

“Look, this is good, man. The judge is having trouble with her faltering testimony and her changing story. The other two questions are about Simmons.”

Simmons, a
Fortune 500
heir, spent more time jetting around the world than in New York. According to Robin, they’d had a passionate weekend when Tony had been buried in his corporate finance courses and studying at Simmons’ company. Hell, Tony had introduced the two of them. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he forced the past back to the past. As bitter and vile as it might be, it was done.

He didn’t need Robin or her lies anymore. Simmons still didn’t quite believe the court-ordered paternity test, and, unlike Robin, he’d apologized for his part in it. The uncomfortable five-minute conversation came three days after the results. Tony had wanted to hate the guy, but he hadn’t tried to make any excuses.

“Keep me in the loop.”

“You know I will. And, look, there’s one more thing.”

What the hell else could there be?
But he kept his thoughts to himself. “What’s that?”

“Simmons wants to meet with you, just the two of you. No attorneys, no Robin.”

The hell?
He frowned. Why would the bastard want a meeting with him? “Did he say why?”

“Nope. Got it from his attorney. Who advised me that he advised his client it was a bad idea.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“I dunno. Simmons is a cagey guy, but I think he was as blindsided by Robin’s naming him in that paternity suit as you were. Between you, me, and the wall, I think he wants out of this.”

Sure, he didn’t even know Lindsey. He couldn’t possibly understand what he would be giving up. Dumbass didn’t understand Lindsey was the best thing to happen in the entire nightmare. “All right, set something up.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.” His answer came swiftly. “Monday. I’m busy tomorrow.”

Just thinking about Zip loosened the tension in his muscles, and he started reloading the glasses again. The vise around his lungs released, and he took a deeper breath. He had a little over nine hours before he could see her again. He could use that as his light at the end of the tunnel.

Derek went silent and then laughed softly. “Good for you, man. You deserve it. I hope she’s all that and more.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The hot brunette you’ve been staring at every Friday when I come by. You hooked up.”

“Maybe. But leave it alone.” The relationship was too new, and Tony too raw.

“You got it. I’ll text you the details for meeting with Simmons. Have a great weekend, buddy.”

“You, too.” He disconnected and glanced at his daughter’s photo. Blowing out a long breath, he allowed a small smile. The bite of the old injury in his soul still stung, but he’d gone a long way away from it last night. Zip sliding onto that barstool unspooled his too-tightly wound world.

He would hold onto that and every possibility that brought with it.

****

Zip looked at the clock for the hundredth time. Only just midnight. Tony had another hour before he got off work. The covered lasagna waited in the oven, the bread she’d bought at the market wrapped and ready. She’d put it in the oven next to the lasagna in an hour.

After arguing with herself for an hour about what to wear, she finally settled for an over-the-shoulder cotton blouse and long, cotton pants. Her feet were snug in a pair of red, fuzzy socks. She needed to lose the socks before he got there. She’d indulged in a bath after he left, soaking the tenderness out of her muscles. But thinking about Tony made her breasts tingle and her sex clench.

She dragged open her laptop and flipped through a book of receipts for one of her clients. The last thing she wanted to do was review the guy’s tax records, but she needed to stop mooning. Her gaze flicked to the clock. Again.

The longest five minutes of her life.

Her hair fell over her shoulder and brushed across the receipts, and she fisted her hands around it. Coiling it into a faux bun, she stuck a pencil into the middle to hold it still. Wiping her hands on her pant legs, she stole another look at the clock. A minute had passed.

“Stop it. He’s not due for another eighty-five minutes. Just work. And stop worrying.”

But, even as she forced herself to stare at the numbers, her mind tracked the second hand’s progress around the clock. Her body revved, and her breath grew shallow. What if he didn’t come back? What if he came to his senses once he got to the club?

He’s busy working. He’d call you if he wasn’t tending bar. Finish this guy’s receipts.

Eighty-four minutes to go.

By the time she heard the cab pull up out front, her nerves were stretched taut. She bolted out of the chair and raced for the door, nearly slipping on the wooden floor when she skidded to a halt. Not caring how eager it made her appear, she jerked the door open. Fat, fluffy snowflakes drifted down, and Tony didn’t bother with the gate. He leapt the little fence and made it up her walk and steps to the door in fast strides.

She was barely aware of the bag hitting the floor of the foyer or the door slamming, only that she was in his arms. His cool lips slanted across hers, and she hitched her legs around his hips.

He tugged at her shirt, and their clothes hit the floor. They didn’t even make it out of the entryway. His hands were everywhere, stroking her sides, pinching her nipples, and when he slid his palm up to cup her sex, she damn near came. His thumb teased her clit. He dragged his lips over her face, kissing her jaw and then her ear. She heard foil tear, and his hands abandoned her briefly, then he lifted her, braced her on the door, and plunged into her.

So hard and thick, his swift invasion shocked her sensitive, swollen flesh. He moved in long, firm strokes, his mouth closing over her scream. His body went rigid, and she locked her legs, dragging his own orgasm from him, her nails digging into his shoulders. He shuddered and then rested against her, panting.

“Hey,” she murmured, shivering with renewed need. It didn’t seem possible, but she wanted more. She wanted a chance to play with him—to explore him and to touch every inch of his gorgeous, bronze skin.

“Hey.” He teased her with a whisper of a kiss. “Give me a minute and we’ll make it to the bedroom.”

“Okay. Good day?”

“It is now.”

They laughed.

Chapter Seven

The dark, early hours of Sunday morning….

Tony cupped his hand and smacked her bare, wiggling ass, then grinned at her little snort of outrage. “You’re gonna spill the lasagna all over yourself.”

“I wouldn’t wiggle if you’d quit playing with my ass while you’re eating.”

They sprawled on Zip’s bed, naked and comfy. He’d demolished the lasagna and bread for dinner, but, after three hours of playing, he was hungry all over again. She’d brought him a plate, and he liked perching it on her butt. It dimpled when the cool plate touched it, and he could trail his fingers up and down her thighs while he ate—so much better than watching a game.