Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

SPENCER

A fter I’ve scrubbed my skin raw and done some self care, not that kind, I exit my steam-filled bathroom wrapped in a soft towel. Feeling refreshed and relaxed, I’m ready to dive into bed and forget the Viking incubus who draws pleasure from my body like he was made to do it.

A squeak escapes my lips when I find that I’m not alone in my room. “Zane! How did you get in here?”

“It’s not like you locked the door,” he comments without looking up.

I take him in and my jaw drops. Drool probably drips from my mouth. He’s shirtless with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He has a fucking six pack and that glorious Adonis belt. His skin is smooth with a smattering of chest hair. He has a small tattoo that I can’t quite make out across the right side of his ribs. His ankles are crossed as he leans back leisurely against my pillows, and he’s reading a book on the far side of my bed. Not just any book. He’s reading New Moon . A pair of simple, black rimmed glasses sit perfectly on his perfect face.

It’s like he was put on this Earth to draw me in, to pull me closer. I almost go to him, but then I remember I am wearing less than he is.

My hand tightens around my towel and he finally notices it’s all I’m wearing. His perusal sets my skin on fire. My legs are on full display as my towel only goes to my upper thigh, barely covering my ass. My hair is combed but still dripping. I feel a droplet part from my hair, landing on my chest and sliding down between my cleavage. Zane’s gaze follows its path and his eyes darken with desire.

Breaking the moment, I clear my throat. “ New Moon , huh?”

“Yeah. Have you read it?”

“That’s like asking if I was a teenager,” I scoff. Zane just stares back waiting for my answer. “Yes, I read it when I was fifteen.” He nods his head in understanding. Needing more information, I ask, “What made you want to read the series?”

“Solana asked me to read it.”

Jealousy quickly makes its way into my bloodstream. I want to ask who the fuck Solana is and how she could get a grown man to read a YA fantasy romance series, but I resist. I have no claim over him, and I can’t just ask questions about the women in his life.

He smiles to himself, but doesn’t ask why my face looks like I ate a lemon. Instead he asks, “Are you team Edward or team Jacob?”

“Neither.”

He gives me a confused look. “How does that work? You wanted her to end up with Mike?”

I bust out laughing. “Oh God, no. He was sweet, but in romance books no one wants the sweet guy when you can have a billionaire vampire or a warm-blooded werewolf. No, I’m all for Charlie.”

“The dad?” His eyebrows raise so high it’s like they’re trying to disappear into his perfect curls.

“He’s a small town, grumpy sheriff and he’s a single dad. He’s what smut is made of.”

Zane smirks and lets out a small chuckle. “You looking for someone to call daddy?”

“What? That’s not what I said.” My toes curl at the thought and I can feel the tips of my ears turn red.

A predatory look spreads across his face. “You can call me daddy.”

My feet shuffle side to side and my toes curl. I would totally call him daddy, but I will never admit to it.

He rises from the bed and approaches me like he’s getting ready to pounce. The simple act of him walking to me has me hypnotized. His muscles are strained as he stands a breath away as if it’s taking all his willpower to keep himself from touching me.

Does he think I wouldn’t welcome his touch? Did he find out about my kiss with Asher? Oh God. Did he find out about the second kiss? Does that mean I’m off limits? He said he was fine with me and Rio. Is he not okay with me and Asher? Not that there’s a me and Asher , or even a me and Zane and Rio .

How long can I resist these men? The answer is, not much longer. It’s going to make leaving all that more painful.

“Hey. Where did you go?” Zane searches my face for the answer.

Clearing my throat, I reply, “I’m right here.” I plaster a halfhearted smile on my face.

“I’m talking about here,” he cups the side of my head and soothingly rubs his thumb over my temple. “You left me for a second there, Angel. Where did you go?”

“You can’t keep doing that.” I sigh, enjoying the feel of his warm hand.

“Doing what?”

“Reading me so easily. I’m not an open book,” I argue

“I’m sorry to break it to you, Spencer, but you couldn’t be more open if you tried. I notice everything about you. Every flinch, every smile, every lustful gaze. You have pulled me in without even trying. I’m locked in your orbit and I’m not going anywhere.”

He brings his other hand up to cradle my face. My knuckles turn white with how hard I’m gripping my measly towel. His eyes drop to my lips, and I lick them on instinct. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowers his face to mine.

The kiss is barely there, but butterflies still take flight in my stomach. He lightly moves his soft lips over mine. When I finally move my mouth in time with his, a groan echoes in his throat. I grip his waist and pull him closer.

Our kiss turns into a dance. He leads and I happily follow. Giving up control has never made me feel so safe.

His tongue swipes across my lips, seeking entry. I ravenously open my mouth to give him access. Our kiss gets hotter as his teeth clamp my lower lip and scrape over it. I grip his shoulders, and I feel my slick desire start to slide down my inner thigh. One of his hands trails down my back and grips my bare ass while the other slides down the front of my body. He flattens his hand over my chest and drags it down between my breasts. When his hand reaches my leg, he dips under my towel and grabs my pussy possessively.

I gasp into his mouth as his fingers easily glide through my slit. “Is that all for me, Angel?” Another gasp leaves me when he slips a single digit inside. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes. It’s for you.”

He pumps his finger in and out, hitting that spot and causing my knees to shake. Zane walks us backward until we reach my closet door. He inserts another finger, stretching me. “Ride my fingers, Spencer,” he rasps then covers his mouth with mine in a brutal kiss.

My hands roam to his back. He stiffens and abruptly pauses the kiss. I feel it in my gut that something is wrong.

Before I can ask if he’s okay, he slams me into the door and traps my wrists in a harsh grip above my head. He pushes his body into mine, which is the only thing holding my towel up. If he steps back, he’ll get a full-frontal view of all my bits, but my embarrassment dissipates when I see the pain etched on his face.

“Zane?”

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed and his breathing intensifies. He’s trapped in his own mind and struggling to stay with me. I know the feeling all too well.

“Baby, look at me. I’m right here. You’re with me.” After more kindly whispered words he finally gifts me with his beautiful emerald irises, but his demons are still circling, waiting to dive in and take a piece of him. But they don’t get him. They don’t get to take his goodness, his happiness. They have already taken enough from him.

I don’t need to know what haunts him to know he’s hurting. I don’t need details. I’ll never ask. His past is his own. I have no right to it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be here for him.

“Breathe with me. In your nose,” I do a dramatic inhale. “Out your mouth.” Then a big exhale. He doesn’t do it with me the first time, but joins in on the second. After a minute or two of our deep breaths, his demons retreat and his eyes focus on me. Shame colors his features.

Zane averts his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I give him a reassuring smile.

He inhales deep one more time and lets it out while searching my face. He releases his grip on my hands and inspect them. I didn’t realize how tight his hold was until he lets go and the blood rushes back.

As he leans back my towel starts to drop. I pull my hands away, but he doesn’t let them go far. His focus remains on my nonexistent injury. I let out a squeak and try pulling away harder, but it’s too late. The towel has dropped and Zane’s eyes lift. He zeroes in on my very exposed breasts. My nipples harden under his gaze.

“Oh shit!” I slam my front against his.

Zane’s eyebrows raise and he asks, “You want me to feel them too?”

“I didn’t know what else to do to cover up.” I bury my heated face in his chest. A moment of silence passes and I feel a rumble from Zane that quickly turns into a full blown laugh.

“I’m glad I amuse you, but can we forget this ever happened?”

Zane sobers enough to answer me. “Absolutely not. I will never forget that sight for the rest of my life.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Then could you at least cover your eyes so I can go in my closet and change?”

“You want my honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“No,” he answers unabashedly.

I roll my eyes at him and come up with a plan. I do an awkward side bend grabbing the towel and throw it over his head. With his gaze obstructed, I dart away seeking refuge in my closet. I slam the door behind me and lean against it.

His laugh echoes from the other side and he calls out, “Nice ass, Angel.”

I heave out a breath and place my embarrassment in a tiny box with ten locks and shove it to the back of my mind.

Looking through my drawers I stumble upon a crucial predicament.

What. Do. I. Fucking. Wear. To. Bed? Nightie, shorts and a tank, or an oversized tee? When did picking out what to wear to bed become so hard?

When the sexy ass men decided they’d stay for a sleepover.

The plain nightie says “I want sex” which I don’t. I think. The shorts and tank are safe, but I hate wearing pants to bed. The oversized tee would cover my ass so I could go sans pants, and I could wear granny panties to deter their mischievous side.

Who am I kidding? Nothing would deter these headstrong men. Maybe I need a chastity belt.

Fuck it. Oversized tee paired with granny panties it is. Or…I reach for my favorite black lace thong.

Dressed and ready for bed I gather my courage, ready to rip off the band aid. Stepping into my bedroom I’m taken aback. I was prepared for one sexy shirtless man. Not two.

Rio now sits on my bed with Zane. Shirtless, basketball shorts, and his tattoos in full view. They don’t notice me, so I take the opportunity to drink them in.

Rio’s tattoos are a work of art. They flow across his skin beautifully. Amongst all the ink I’m able to make out a devil with a pitchfork on Rio’s ribs. His eyes promise death and destruction, making me shiver. I also spot a portrait of a young girl on his bicep. There’s some script as well, but I can’t make out the words.

Zane has discarded his book and glasses on my nightstand. I wish he’d put them back on. I’m a glutton for punishment.

Their heads are bent together as they talk in hushed voices amongst themselves. I catch a few words.

Cain. Kidnap. Hunt. Kill.

The last word causes a chill to erupt over my skin.

Making myself known I ask, “What are you two gentlemen talking about?” Immediately they both go silent and eye my chosen attire.

Rio ignores my question. “Let's get this slumber party going!”

“Maybe we should discuss sleeping arrangements,” I suggest, not wanting them to get the wrong idea. I need my bed to myself in order to get quality sleep. I have a blow up bed they can use and my couch is comfortable.

“I agree,” Rio says. “Z, which side of the bed do you prefer?”

Zane looks like he’s actually mulling over Rio’s question. “Window.”

“Sweet that leaves me by the door and Spencer smack dab in the middle.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” I deadpan. “Seriously. I have sheets and blankets in the hall closet you can use?—”

My hospitality speech is cut short when Rio interrupts. “We’re sleeping right here with you, Mama. En serio .”

“No. I need my room empty of people, and I roll around a lot. I didn’t ask for this sleepover, so y’all can deal with finding another room to crash in.”

“We’re not moving,” Zane argues.

“I can’t sleep with you two in my room!”

They glance at each other, both wearing a knowing smirk like they are secretly sharing a joke I’m not privy to.

I sigh and turn to make my way to the couch. They can share my queen size mattress and I’ll get cozy out there. Before I can reach the door, I’m thrown over a shoulder. By the sweatpants and ass that meets my face, I know it’s Zane.

What is with him and carting me around like a sack of potatoes?

“Really, Zane? Hauling me around like this is not the solution to everything.” Zane says nothing, and I hear Rio chuckle. I’m deposited on my bed and a pair of inked arms wrap around my middle dragging me backwards. I try to push Rio away, but he tightens his grip.

These. Damn. Men.

Without speaking, Zane lays on the bed next to me and throws a blanket over us. Then he switches off the lamp, coating the room in complete darkness, and falls onto his back.

Rio wraps himself around me from behind in a huge bear hug as I lay on my side facing the window. I bask in his warmth and his breath on my neck. I’ve never cuddled like this before, and I can’t say I hate it especially when it makes me feel secure. Safe. Ready to battle the demented shit my subconscious will no doubt conjure up.

As much as I love this feeling, I can’t sleep like this. I wait a minute thinking I can take them by surprise and run out of the room. As if he can read my mind Zane says, “Don’t you dare, Angel.”

“ Intenta correr. A ver qué pasa .”

I may not understand what Rio said, but the sentiment is loud and clear. It also makes me shiver a little. Every time he speaks Spanish to me in that sultry tone my body yearns for his.

Zane turns on his side and moves closer so our bodies are almost touching. He brings his hand to mine and clasps it in a desperate hold. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks a thousand words.

Once again I’m hit with how hurt he was at my attempt to leave. Giving him the reassurance he seeks, I squeeze his hand back.

Rio leans into me so his mouth reaches my ear. “Next time you flaunt your black lace panties like that, I’m going to tan your ass.”

My eyes go wide and my cheeks burn. I completely forgot what I was wearing under my shirt when Zane went all caveman on me.

With my rebuttal on my lips, Zane silences me before I can get a word out. “Sleep, Angel. Your nightmares won’t get you while we’re here.”

I’m not going to win with these two tonight, so I give in to the allure of sleep.

As I drift off a thought occurs to me…

How do they know I have nightmares?