Spin (The Indigo Lounge Series) (5 page)

Today is the day.

The house is warm, welcoming and filled with people I’m beginning to call good friends.

But the throbbing of drum and bass which the DJ keeps ramping up, despite my requests for him to turn it down a touch, is getting on my nerves.

I make a mental note to strike the events company, which we’ve been thinking of using for smaller events, off my list. I’m all for giving struggling up-and-coming companies a chance, but not if they forget the number one rule - always give the customer what she wants.

That’s what I get for taking my eye off the ball, and not organizing my own engagement party. But then, Zach has made sure I’ve been fully engaged in my number one project - him, and more than occupied with his number two project - his latest venture in the Indigo Lounge.

The hard work we’ve both put into the next company adventure has paid off. Phase Two is completed, and best of all, Zach has agreed to take a month off, starting next week. Which, of course, means that I also have a month off, seeing as his company is now Neon Events’ sole client and where he goes, I go. It’s a condition that I, as a recent full third partner of Neon, have agreed to with Savage Inc.

I still laugh whenever I’m introduced as Zach’s fiancée and PR person, and get the look that suggests I’ve hitched a fast ride to freeload-ville.

Our work life started turbulently when Zach tried to manipulate my time, and my pussy. In the very best ways it’s remained turbulent, with many of our meetings ending in terse mandates from my lover and client to
do better
.

Zach is as brilliant a businessman as he is a ruthless taskmaster. He’s been particularly hard on me because he wants any suspicions of nepotism stamped out.

While I understand his stance, it’s still been a challenging, and often invigorating, working relationship. One that’s been salvaged only by our ability to shut the door behind us after a tough grind, shed our office personas, and quickly rediscover our complete and utter obsession with each other.

I’m thrilled, of course, that our association has more than paid off. Neon is number one in its field, with two industry awards to its credit, one of which bears my name as Event Planner Of The Year.

But with spring just around the corner, and our April wedding day fast approaching, I’m more than ready for a break.

The plan is to spend a few days in New York wedding planning with my parents before heading to Europe, where our latest project, the first Indigo Lounge yacht, the
IL Indulgence
, is gearing up for its maiden voyage.

Zach has also agreed to visit his place in Morocco one last time.

That was the only stop I insisted upon on our upcoming trip. The love of my life, despite his insistence that ‘he’s fine’ since he proposed, needs to put one last ghost to rest.

His guilt over his part in Farrah’s death has diminished a lot during the past eighteen months, but I see the shadows that linger in his eyes every now and then. Especially when he has to deal with issues about the Indigo Lounge.

I want our married life to start with a clean slate, with no ghosts from the past.

I pause in the act of placing the chandelier diamond-earring in my earlobe, awed all over again by the thought that one lucky indigo-colored ticket changed my life so drastically. Of course, a series of occurrences brought Zach to me, but it was entering that Indigo Lounge contest that won me more than a mind-blowing trip on one of the most luxuriously decadent airplanes in the world.

The real prize was gaining the deep, abiding love of the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

“You have that look on your face again, Peaches.”

I shiver, not bothering to hide what that insanely sexy voice does to me. I absorb the delicious tingles that wash over me when his warm hands slide up my bare arms.

“What look?” I meet Zach’s gaze in the long Cheval mirror that graces our bedroom. The ever-present primal hunger and sheer animal possessiveness makes my breath stall.

“The one that says you’re plotting something potentially devious and infinitely naughty.”

I laugh. “I’m not plotting. But I was thinking about something naughty. Naughty and magical.”

His head drops to align with mine, and I breathe him in. “Share,” he demands.

Slate-grey eyes gleam in that hypnotic way I’ve never been able to resist. His hands drift down to mine, link them together before winding both our arms around my waist. He pulls me back against this strong, hard masculine body. A body I’ll never get tired of exploring. Loving. Craving.

“You’re looking at me and biting your lip, Peaches,” he growls in my ear. “I’m thinking whatever is going on in your head is going to make us even later to greet our guests?”

“They’re mostly
your
guests. I didn’t want a big party, remember?” I reply breathlessly.

Although a tiny part of me rejoices that the previously almost reclusive Zachary Savage has finally opened his life to the friends he was keeping at arms’ length, a greater part of me never expected the irrational jealousy that watching him spend time with anyone but me brings. Or the guilt at being so selfish.

“But you agreed,” he says in the firm tone I’ve secretly termed his
no-wiggle-room
voice. “And I’m not backing down from showing you off and announcing to the world that you’re mine. Exclusively and unconditionally. That I own you, heart and body. Forever.”

Yeah.
This
is why I love Zachary Savage.

While some women hate being claimed and possessed, I revel in it. And when Zach is like this with me, I crave nothing more than to hand over my very soul to him all over again.

“Because I want to you be happy. Always,” I whisper.

His eyes shut for a moment. He exhales a ragged breath. “Don’t think you’re off the hook in telling me what you were thinking about when I walked in. I still want to know.”

I can’t stop the blush that creeps up my neck. Despite engaging in all manner of sexual escapades with the master of sex himself, I don’t think I can ever be blasé enough to not feel hot and flustered, especially when Zach looks at me with that hooded gaze.

“I was thinking about us, the first time we met.”

Eyes staying on mine in the mirror, he angles his head and trails open-mouth kisses along the side of my neck. “Yeah?” he rasps.

Warmth rushes between my legs and my brain starts to melt. “I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, as much as I want you,” I whisper.

He grows still, his eyes intense and direct in a way that won’t allow me to look away, to acknowledge anyone or anything else but him. “Which was just as well, because nothing short of possessing you one hundred percent would have worked for me. And I needed to be possessed that way in return.”

I believe him, but I get that overwhelming feeling again. The one that whispers that fate is about to bitch-slap me, rears its ugly head again.

“Hey,” the hard, anxious bite in his voice snaps me back into focus. “What’s going on?”

I shake my head, more impatient with myself than with anything else. “I love you, Zach.”

He trembles and his arms tighten. But his gaze doesn’t waver. “I know, Peaches. And as much as I’d love to show you how much I love you in return, we can’t be any later. But we’re not leaving this dressing room until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I just...I’m afraid of how greedy I am when it comes to you. I can’t help wondering if there will ever come a time when I want too much. I know we’ve been through this, but...”

My words drift away and I watch, a little puzzled, as a slow, thrilled smile spreads across his gorgeous face. “Zach?”

“Yeah, we talked about this. But do you know how many times I lie awake too, wondering, scared out of my goddamn mind that you’ll wake up in the morning and tell me to get the fuck out of your life?”

I gasp. “Are you serious? I never...” I shake my head again. “How can we feel like this when we love each other?”

“Because love
is
fucked up,” he says with a slow, growling laugh that always curls my toes. “Those fucking poets are assholes for making us believe everything will be rosy once you find your soul mate. Maybe in a hundred years I’ll feel as if I can earn your love just by being by your side, but right now, seeing how beautiful you are, knowing how smart and talented you are, I’m stunned each time you smile at me and tell me you love me.”

I whirl in his protective hold, and throw my arms around his neck. He catches me to him and squeezes me tight enough to leave me barely enough room to breathe. Swooping down, he captures my mouth in a deep, possessive kiss that banishes any lingering doubts.

My heart swells, thankful that Zach understands me enough not to ridicule my insecure feelings. Heck, I’m glad I voiced them, because misery loves company, right? I cling to him as he reminds me just how special what we have is. I respond, expressing through our kiss how much I adore him, how much I treasure everything he is. But I’ve also learned that I need to vocalize my feelings, so there’s no doubt in either of our minds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let the demons in, Zach. I just...”

“Shh, I love you, Bethany,” he breathes against my lips, then leans back and cups my jaw. “Each time you doubt that, come and find me. Tell me how you feel. Give me a chance to prove my love to you. Okay?”

I nod. “You’ll let me do the same for you?”

His palms slide from my waist to my ass. Strong, hard hands capture the globes. “Of course. Why do you think I’m here?”

Smiling, I toy with the thick, dark hair at his nape. “I thought you came to remind me we were keeping our guests waiting?”

His gaze tracks down my neck to my cleavage. One hand leaves my ass to trace the curve of my breast. “I’ve decided that they can keep themselves entertained for little longer while I deal with those fucking demons.”

“Aren’t you taking fashionably late a little too far?” I half-joke, because I’m eager for whatever is coming. More than eager. I live for it. Would die without it.

His arrogant lip curl makes my pussy throb.

“They can wait. It’s for their own good.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you work that out?”

“Fucking you will put me in a good mood.
Not
fucking you right now will make me a grouchy host. Also, I think it’s better for everyone if I’m not walking around with my dick hard enough to cause an earthquake.”

My laughter triggers his own. He kisses the happiness from my lips, then pays me back tenfold, all while lifting the skirt of my Alex Wong cocktail dress and walking me backward to the low, winged dressing chair. He pushes me into it and drops to his knees before me. My breath catches at the ferocious hunger on his face.

Without taking his eyes from mine, he hooks his fingers into my indigo-colored panties and pulls them down. His hands caress me from ankles to calves to knees. His touch lingers, drawing gasps from me, which he devours with each sharp inhalation. Grip tight on my knees, he spreads my legs apart, exposes my slick, needy sex to his gaze.

“Come closer, baby,” he murmurs.

I grow wetter as I shift forward until my ass hangs over the edge of the seat. The low rumble from his chest connects to me in ways I can’t fathom. My heartbeat escalates, screams with joy as my clit swells and throbs from the sound of Zach’s voice alone.

Each time he takes me like this, I fool myself into thinking I know what is coming. After all, we’ve fucked a million times.

Each time, he proves me wrong.

Zach was an experienced, demanding lover when I met him. That experience has grown, sharpened into an almost transcendental skill since the very first time he made love to me. It’s as if, once he made me the sole recipient of his sexual attention, his intention has been to make each experience better than the last.

He knows what I need before the thought has even formed in my own head. He knows when I need it fast and merciless.

Knows when I yearn for a slow, exquisite possession. Like now.

And he gives it to me.

Slowly, he unbuckles his belt and lowers his zipper. He pulls out his thick, beautiful cock and positions himself at my entrance, then raises his gaze to mine.

“Tell me.”

My world zeroes in on its sole reason for turning. “I love you.”

He splays a hand over my belly, pins me down hard. “Again.”

I whimper with the need for him to possess me, fully and completely. “I love you, Zach. So much. Fuck me. Please, make me yours.”

“Yes,” he growls roughly. “For as long as I live,
yes
.” He enters me slowly, his breath held as he absorbs my words, replies with his eyes and his body as he fills me, stretches me, until there isn’t a single doubt in my mind. I don’t care that I’m being extremely rude in keeping our guests waiting while my fiancé fucks me with sublime skill.

He doesn’t stop until I’m wrung out, until my eyes roll and my heart screams, and we’re clinging to each other, squeezing the last pocket of air in the dressing room.

Feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath mine, I allow myself to revel in the moment. Allow myself to burn in the fire of our love. We deserve this.

We’ve earned our love
, I affirm to myself.

As if sensing my feelings, he raises his head.

“I love you, Bethany. I’ll give my last breath to prove it to you.”

Heart swelling in happiness, I kiss him again. “Zach—”

A knock on our bedroom door interrupts me. “Beth, you in there? Any chance you can put the brakes on getting your brains fucked out long enough to come out here and entertain your guests?” A crisp voice demands. “I’m shit out of jokes.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh God. It’s Keely. She’s going to kill me.”

Zach’s lopsided smile holds enough deadly intent to make my heart stutter. “Ah, Peaches. For that to have any chance in hell of happening, she’ll have to go through me first.”

He rises and carries me to the bathroom. With gentle hands, he cleans me up, his eyes straying to mine every few seconds, as if gauging for himself that my little wobbly has passed.