Zane (The Powers That Be, Book 6) Read online

  “How’re you doing your hair?” Izzy asked, checking out a high-necked black dress I’d worn to the Mayoral Ball.

  “I don’t know. Down or up? If there are any conservative elitists there, my silver to blue hair might offend them.” I frowned remembering all the times Mom had balked at my “outlandishly colored” hair.

  Izzy looked at me for a moment then decided, “High ponytail. With lots of curls.”

  I guess she wasn’t worried about the Right-Wingers one bit, which worked for me.

  As she worked on my hair, I caught her eyes in the mirror and confessed, “I’m not sleeping with him tonight.”

  Bobby pins in her mouth, she let out what sounded like, “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I know this probably sounds archaic, but I feel like we need to get to know each other better. The plan at the beginning was for this to be a one-nighter, but since we’re seeing each other now, I think sleeping with him should, I don’t know, mean something?”

  She twitched her head to the side and continued working on my hair. “Makes sense.”

  I nodded feeling good about my decision and glad she didn’t think it was dumb.

  An hour later, I was ready to go. Monochromatic was the word of the evening, but I thought it all came together pretty well. Along with blush-colored four-inch-pointed-toe stiletto heels with an ankle strap, I also had a matching dress coat to wear. My hair was up high with a mass of curls cascading down my back, makeup on point and I felt I was ready.

  “I’m kind of excited,” I confessed to Izzy. “I haven’t been on a date in…”

  “Nineteen months.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “It was when I was dating Rance the wrestler and you met that guy at Starbucks.”

  “Great memory, Iz.”

  “I think all my memories coincide with whoever I was dating at the time.” She snorted then shrugged. “It works.”

  “You go, girl.”

  “Hey, how come Chet and Rusty aren’t here? I mean, it’s not past midnight,” she whispered. “I was kinda nervous to come over if the psycho was gonna be here.”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “I haven’t seen Rusty since this morning when he came into the record store, the rat bastard, and Chet’s mad at me ‘cause I told him Rusty needs to go. He came home for a few minutes around six, didn’t say a word then left.”

  “I can’t believe he doesn’t think something’s going on. And for Rusty to show up at the record store like that? Unbelievable.”

  “I know. Asshole.”

  Her eyes went suspicious as she listened for any noise coming from the living room. “Drug dealer for sure.” She nodded.

  “Maybe. And why are we whispering?”

  She chuckled. “I don’t know. But somehow, thinking the weirdo has the place bugged doesn’t seem too farfetched.”

  “For real,” I concurred, hoping it wasn’t true just as someone knocked at the door.

  “He’s here!” Izzy squealed, jumping up and down and doing baby claps with her hands making me laugh. “I’ll go get the door! You get ready to make the grand entrance!”

  I was suddenly nervous, damn it, although I didn’t know why. Shaking my hands at my sides to help settle my nerves, I went into the bathroom to check my makeup once more, then taking a deep breath and blowing it out, I went to greet my date.

  And holy cow. Zane Powers in a dark navy police uniform was hot. But Zane Powers in a dark navy business suit was hot. Wow. He wore a white button-down shirt under the jacket, a slightly lighter blue tie, and dark brown wingtip boots to finish it all off. Yowza.

  As I approached him, his eyes flared with a spark of gold and there went my insides again. Dang it.

  “You’re stunning, Jillian,” he said, his eyes roaming up and down, taking in every last bit of me.

  “Thank you,” I said shyly, pleased that he liked how I looked. Then I saw him smirk when I offered, “You look really good too.”

  “You guys have fun!” Izzy interjected. “And if you have any calamari left, bring me a doggy bag!” She laughed letting me know she was teasing.

  Zane helped me with my coat and just as we were leaving, Izzy said, “I’m going too. I don’t wanna be here alone if the freak shows up.” I nodded at her because that was a wise decision. Outside, she called, “Bye!” then jogged to her car.

  At Zane’s SUV, he opened the door for me, but before I could get in, his hand went to the back of my neck and he leaned down, pressing his lips to mine giving me a mind-numbing, body-melting kiss. Then pulling away, he announced, “I couldn’t help it. You’re fucking beautiful.”

  As he helped me in, I was on Cloud-9 especially as I watched my handsome date walk around to his side then get in. But he pulled me out of my feel-good daze when starting the car, he asked, “What freak?”

  I blinked and looked at him, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then it hit me. “Oh. Rusty. My roommate. He’s, um, rather strange.” Putting the SUV into gear, he nodded as if he knew exactly who I was talking about which was weird. “Do you know him?”

  He shook his head as we pulled out onto the busy street and stated, “Nope,” which didn’t sound all that sincere.

  Hm.

  “Oh. Well, he’s a bit scary, actually. He’s kinda threatened me a couple times about, uh, you.”

  The dark look he shot me was just about as scary as the ones Rusty had given me. Yeesh.

  “He’s threatened you? About me. What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “He’s told me to stay away from you. Twice now.”

  I saw his jaw muscle tic and he looked angry as he stared straight ahead at the road.

  “I’ve tried telling Chet, my other roommate, that I think he’s into something illegal, but he doesn’t think so.”

  “Chet?”

  “My second cousin, one-time removed. Or something like that.”

  “You live with two men?” Zane didn’t really sound shocked. He sounded kind of pissed.

  My brow went down. “Well, yeah. I mean, it is the twenty-first century and women are now allowed to do whatever they want, much to the consternation of men who’re stuck in the fifties.” I rolled my eyes thinking, Isn’t this just fab. I’m out with a sexist pig. “Oh, and we are just barely a step above the animals in that we can live with the opposite sex and even contain our sexual desires for them, but, again, only just barely.”

  The next thing I knew, we were pulled over into some kind of auto store parking lot. Zane threw the vehicle in Park and turned in his seat to face me making my eyes get big at his quick actions.

  “Don’t think I don’t like that smart mouth of yours, Jillian. As I recall, I like it even more when it’s wrapped around my cock. But if you think for one fucking second I’m judging you or trying to tell you what to do, you’re wrong. And you need to know that. So don’t spout your smartassed, self-righteous feminist bullshit at me, because my mother raised me right and I fully support and respect you as a woman, understand?”

  Damn. He totally called me out. And, boy, could he be broody in zero-point-two seconds.

  I bit the inside of my cheek looking back at him feeling a little bad, but not too much, since he’d had made it seem like he didn’t trust my living arrangement. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I watched his dimple slowly emerge and his eyes spark gold which made my breath catch. “Sassy. I like that. You’ll like it too when your ass is red from my hand later.”

  Now I gasped. “You are not going to spank me, Zane. I’m a grown-assed woman and you’re not my father.”

  Well, this date had gotten off to a great start.

  I watched his face get soft and resting his elbow on the console, he took my chin in his hand and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “Babe. I spank you, you’ll be begging for it.” When I started to balk and pull my face away, he stopped me, clutching my chin tighter. “I’d never do anything you didn’t want to do, okay?”

  I narrow
ed my eyes at him wondering who he was and how in the world I’d ever get to know him, outside of having sex, that is. But he came off as almost secretive, like he was hiding things from me. Then again, I guessed I was the same, but I figured patience was a virtue and we’d get to know each other in time, providing that we made the effort.

  “Okay.”

  His eyes crinkled at the sides with his smile, and he leaned in to give me a quick kiss. “I really like you, Jillian.”

  He released my chin, gave me a quick peck on the lips and we proceeded on to the restaurant.

  Chapter 9

  Best date ever.

  The food was fantastic (I managed to save Izzy some calamari) and our conversation was eye-opening. I felt I learned so much more about Zane, making him start with his birth up until now. He was an open book which I greatly appreciated. The only glitch had been when I’d asked about his baseball career and why he hadn’t gone pro at which he replied it was a story for another time, so I let it go.

  I told him about my upbringing, letting him know I came from wealth which got me a look I couldn’t decipher, his eyes flashing for just a second, and I saw his body move back maybe an inch. As a people reader, I knew there was something behind his withdrawal—maybe he disliked rich people—but things had been going so well, I decided to broach the subject later. But, seriously, I felt so much better at how we’d shared stories of our lives with one another and felt it was an awesome first step we’d taken.

  Oh, and the Christmas lights were beautiful! After leaving the restaurant, whose lights were absolutely magnificent, we drove east to take in Bellevue Botanical Garden which the brochure said was adorned with over half a million lights which were in different animal, plant and flower shapes. I loved it!

  We arrived at Zane’s house around midnight, a very nice four-bedroom home with wood floors, two fireplaces, a revamped kitchen that was fantastic and a deck that looked out into a forest. I’m not even kidding. There were trees everywhere! The whole lot was beyond lovely.

  He parked in front and after walking down steps, we went inside the front door which had a huge, oval etched-glass window where he turned off the alarm. The foyer was gigantic as well, where he took my coat hanging it on a hall tree and suggesting I leave my purse—I’d switched out my oversized tote bag for a cute clutch for the night—but I declined since I had a clean pair of panties in it, just in case I changed my mind about sleeping with him.

  Anyway, going forward, we entered a family room that had a beige couch and loveseat, both looking very cushy and inviting. There was a framed photo of the Seattle skyline over the fireplace and a huge TV on the wall to its left. Several potted plants sat near the French doors that went out to the deck, and when we walked to the left, that amazing kitchen with stainless appliances and dark wood cabinets wowed me. The more I looked around, the more I felt the touch of a woman—a gorgeous mirror on one wall as well as a rustic sign that stated, “God Bless This Home” and those plants were clear giveaways—and I wondered how long it’d been since they’d separated, hoping that was the case or I’d be taking my panty-filled clutch and leaving asap.

  Holding my hand, he led me into a den that was just off the kitchen where a huge desk with a computer on it faced another flat screen TV on the opposite wall. When I saw the imprint in the carpet of what I knew had been another desk, my suspicions were confirmed.

  Looking up at him, I asked softly, “How long ago did she leave?”

  He gave me a small smile knowing I’d caught it. “Little over a year.”

  “Did you love her?”

  He nodded. “I did. It just wasn’t right, though.”

  “Why?”

  He let out a breath. “She came from money and wanted the best of everything.”

  Ahhh. Now I understood his reaction earlier when I’d mentioned my background.

  He shrugged. “I tried. But cops are never gonna be in the upper echelon of moneymakers. And even though I’ve invested smartly and have made quite a bit, it seemed never to be enough.”

  Taking my hand again, he led me back through the kitchen into the living room and down a hallway past three bedrooms. We next went down a staircase (a bi-level home!) into another living room then down another hallway which led to the master bedroom.

  “This house is huge!” I declared.

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he took my purse and placed it on a dresser, then held me in his arms before kissing the heck out of me. And repetition be damned, the man could definitely kiss! I was so wrapped up in that kiss that I didn’t even realize he’d unzipped my dress until it fell to the floor around my feet.

  As he looked at me standing there in my heels, bra and panties—both blush-colored too, of course—there was that gold spark in his eyes again, and I let out a moan as my body screamed, “YES!”

  I knew I needed to tell him my caveat for the evening, but instead I stood in the sex daze he’d put me in waiting to see what he’d do next, which was to walk slowly around me, his eyes roving over every last inch as he stroked his chin. Oh, my.

  “You’re fucking stunning,” he mumbled as if he were in awe of me.

  Holding my shoulders, he guided me to the bed where I sat, then kneeling in front of me, he lifted first one foot to take off my shoe then the other, his hands caressing my ankles as he did, his lips grazing over the insides of my calves. When he pressed his thumb into my instep lightly massaging my foot, I let out another soft moan. Wow.

  Next, he stood and took my hands pulling me up with him.

  “The bathroom is in there,” he nodded to the right. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the top drawer.” Nodding toward a dresser, he announced, “I’ve got t-shirts in the middle drawer if you want to wear one. I’m gonna go close up the house. When you’re finished, get in bed. I’ll be right back.”

  I watched him turn on a lamp beside the bed then walk toward the door, picking up my dress as he did and placing it neatly on a chair by the door before turning out the main light in the room and leaving. God. How sweet was he!

  Then suspicion reared her ugly head making me wonder if he was only being nice because I’d said I wasn’t going to have sex with him and he was just trying to butter me up. At that thought I told myself to shut up because either way, whether we had sex or not, he was being nice and I liked it.

  In the bathroom I found the toothbrush, used it, then spotting moisturizing facewash—a leftover from his ex-girlfriend?—I used it also, removing my makeup. Deciding to leave my hair up, not wanting to mess with it, I finally headed back into the bedroom, donned a shirt from his drawer, pulled back the bedcovers and got in. A few minutes later, he returned and upon seeing me, his face went soft again. Then I sat mesmerized watching as he disrobed, putting his jacket on a hanger, the tie he tossed onto a chair. His shirt went into the hamper then he sat on the bed and took off his shoes and socks.

  At that point, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I’d never really spent this type of time with a guy. So I just watched. And, hey, if the man wanted to give me a striptease, hell, I was all in, even though the silence was a little unsettling. He stood and after removing his undershirt which also landed in the hamper, he was down to just his slacks. I stared at the somewhat large tattoo he had across his chest just under his sternum that was in Latin and read Verum Autem Ex. From my limited knowledge, I knew Verum meant truth, Ex I thought translated to “from” but Autem had me confused. His eyes slowly came to mine and he smirked before disappearing into the bathroom.

  Boy, that was definitely a tease, all right.

  I heard him brush his teeth and wash his face then opening the door, he turned off the light and walked to the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. And, damn damn damn, that body of his was something else. He was all hard-packed muscles, a Greek god with abs for days, perfectly formed pecs and strong shoulders that justified my metaphorical sobriquet. He was a walking literary device!

  I snorted as he stood by the bed, which made him
raise an eyebrow.

  Shaking my head, I explained, “Too many years of grammar.”

  “You laughing at me?”

  “God, no. You’re hot! I mean, you’re built, uh, your body is, um, very, um, nice.”

  He pulled back the covers and asked, “So you’re nervous ‘cause you thought I was gonna announce that I wanted to preposition you?” I groaned at his bad joke and scrunched up my face. He laughed. “Come here.” Lying back on his pillow, he held me against him and I lay my head on his bare shoulder. “I’ve got two reasons for having you here.”

  “If you say it’s clause you like me, I’ll throttle you.”

  He barked out a laugh and pulled me tighter to him, kissing the top of my head. “You’re something else, babe.”

  No. He was something else. And such a pleasant surprise. All that hotness and smart and funny too. Who knew?

  He was quiet for a moment and at my questioning glance, he explained, “Okay, first, I don’t want you alone at your apartment with your roommate. You’re there, I’m there. I’m not there, you’re here.” Cutting me off from saying something all women’s suffrage Ya Ya Sisterhood, he said, “I know you can take care of yourself. It’s not that. I just have a feeling he’s bad news and I don’t want you around it.”

  I relaxed against him again, smoothing my fingers over his chest hair—not too much, not too little but just right—thinking maybe he was right while I waited for his second reason.

  “And second, I need you to see that I want you for more than a fucking booty call. So even though I’ve got a raging hard-on right now, I’ll refrain from ravishing your gorgeous body.”

  Oh.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  I kissed his chest thinking he was probably one of the noblest men I’d ever met. But damn. His saying that made me really want him now. God, I was ridiculous.

  We lay there for a few minutes before he broke the silence. “What’s your middle name?”

  “Jane. Yours?”

  “Jillian Jane Jordan. Trey J. I like it,” he announced making me giggle. “Mine’s Arthur.”