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If she was his, he’d ravage those luscious lips until they were plump and swollen. Grip her hips and circle her around in a slow dance back to the couch. While those dazed hazel eyes tried to focus on him, maybe he’d just put his mouth to the task of rolling them back in her head.
But she wasn’t his, and she shouldn’t be on her feet.
“Sit down, for fuck’s sake,” he snapped, his frustration and growing arousal combining into a tetchy force. Fighting himself for something he desired wasn’t a usual occurrence, and he was struggling not to unleash his temper as the pressure on him escalated.
“M’kay,” she slurred, and obediently plopped onto the carpet.
Jesus, she was going to be the death of him.
“Not submissive, huh?”
“This is hardly applicable,” Zeke snarled. “The girl is so fucking tired, she’d climb bare-ass naked into the middle of an orgy if you told her to, asshole.” He bent and, setting his beer on the floor, hauled her onto her feet again, urging her to the couch. “Stay there, Olivia, and go to fucking sleep.”
“Just take her home, Zeke. Tuck her up in your bed, make her feel safe. Do what you’re best at. Tomorrow, when she’s lucid,talkto her. Give her a chance to explain, then lay down the rules. Two years of pining over her is over, buddy.”
“I’m not going to win this, am I?” Flipping the blanket over her, Zeke stomped over to the desk and slapped his palms down on the wood. “What are you getting out of this, Att? Why the hell are you pushing this—pushingme—so emphatically toward her?”
Atticus shrugged. “Sonic’s been a member of my team for years. She’s talented and smart, but her social skills are shit. No friends, no family. Taking care of you in the hospital was the first time I’ve ever seen her committed to a project that didn’t involve data searches and hacking hard drives. She was happy, Zeke, and despite the circumstances—Wyatt’s death, your pain, all the damn chaos—she made you happy in return.”
“Now years have passed, and we’re two different people.”
“Can’t disagree with that; you’ve turned into a bitter old bastard. Sonic, on the other hand, is the kind of soul who doesn’t change who she is on a whim. But a woman who isn’t interested in a man doesn’t ask her boss how he is every time she speaks to him, and a man who doesn’t love a woman won’t have those sparks I see in your eyes when you look at her.”
“I don’t love her.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Nobody believes it, including you.”
His friend had an innate talent for telling the truth, even when someone didn’t want to hear it. Trying not to hate him for that skill, Zeke lifted his palms off the desk, raising them high in surrender. “Fine, you win. I’ll drive her home and treat her like a queen. Will that satisfy your protective Daddy urges?”
“It’s a good start. Although there is a perfectly good guestroom just down the hall with your names on it.”
“Sure. Toss me in at the deep end, why don’t you?”
“Excellent. I’m pleased we came to a reasonable agreement. Oh, and Zeke?”
“What?” he asked with a growl.
“There’s a distinct possibility your new queen is a sleepwalker.”
What the fuck? Zeke spun just in time to watch Olivia toddle from the room, dragging the blanket like a pet rock on a string. “How the hell is she walking around when she can’t even keep her bloody eyes open!”
Atticus just grinned. “That’s your problem to figure out now, brother. I’d advise you to lock the bedroom door before you go to sleep. For, ah, safety purposes.”
“I hate you, you smug bastard.”
A deep, rolling laugh followed him out the door as he rushed after Olivia, wondering what he’d taken on, and how he was supposed to keep a woman in bed when apparently, she didn’t stop moving,ever.
***
Olivia
A steel band curled around her back, pinning her against a slab of firm, warm rock. She nuzzled her cheek into the warmth, humming in appreciation of the delicious fragrance; smoke and leather, with a whiff of something extra.
Something solid and rough wedged between her thighs, giving her something to rub her aching pussy against as she moaned under her breath. She didn’t really like touching herself—too many threats, subtle and blatant, from Jared over the years had made her leery—but maybe this hands-free option would work.
“Best stop that, girl, else those panties ain’t gonna be a deterrent.”
Olivia froze, mid-grind. The voice was low and grumpy, rumbling under her ear. Embarrassingly familiar. It didn’t cut off the ache inside her; it intensified the need in a way that only one man could. “Zeke.”
