When the last of my c.u.m has left my body, I grab Zoey by the waist and roll her over on top of me before I collapse all of my weight onto her.

I feel like I've been hit by a truck. My o.r.g.a.s.m rocked me hard.

Suddenly, I feel Zoey sit up, and I open my eyes to see the biggest smile shining down at me.

"That was incredible. Now this time, I think I want to be on top so I can do what I want."

My still-hard c.o.c.k pulses at the idea, but I shake my head as I smile back at her. "I'm beginning to think you only want me for one thing, Zoey."

She looks like she's contemplating something, and I try to shake her off her train of thought before she can tell me that maybe s.e.x is the only reason she's interested in me.

"Let me show you my culinary expertise while we go over the stalker information. Deal?"

She leans down, gives me a quick kiss, and hops off my body. "Deal," she says, and she covers her c.u.m-covered p.u.s.s.y back up with her panties and slides her jeans back on.

Why does the thought of me coating her make me impossibly hard all over again?

7.

Zoey

I watch him as he moves about the kitchen while I sit at the breakfast bar. His shirt is off, and I can see the ridges and lines of his muscles as he moves around. For such a big guy, he moves almost with a silent grace. I wonder if that has to do with his job. Something he was trained to do.

I've never been so fascinated with a man in my life, and the more I seem to learn about him, the worse it becomes. I can't seem to pull my eyes away from him, memorizing every mark on his body. At first I was intrigued by the scars that littered his body, but now my eyes linger on the tattoos that run up and cover every inch of both his arms.

"Do you like pain?" The question pops out of my mouth.

He turns to look at me, his back muscles flexing once again. I wonder how much he has to work out to keep those things. I bet a lot. I know he can lift me like I weigh nothing at all.

"I wouldn't say I liked it. Why?"

"I don't know. Just all the tattoos and scars. Seems like you have lot of pain going on."

His head c.o.c.ks to the side, a half-smile pulling at his mouth. At this angle I can see a dimple in his cheek, one I hadn't noticed before. Maybe because of his light facial hair, but I see it now.

"Scars kind of come with the job, and the tattoos kind of do, too."

"You have to get tattoos to be a bodyguard?" Maybe this is some kind of ritual they do. Like when my sister was a cheerleader and she wore ribbons in her hair and painted c.r.a.p on her face. I didn't get it, but they all did it. It looked pretty stupid, but the tats don't look stupid on Drake.

He lets out a bark of laughter as he goes back to chopping up an onion.

"No, cupcake. It's not required. It just something the guys and I liked to do. I haven't gotten a new one in a long time."

"Do you want more?"

"Hadn't really thought about it. I think the last time I got one, I was with SWAT."

"You should get one with color."

He sets the knife down and runs a hand up his other arm, looking down at his tattoos.

"You don't like all the black?" he asks like he really cares. Elle hasn't asked me anything about fashion or what looks good in forever. I have absolutely no fashion sense, and mostly I just don't care. I just throw stuff on.

"Thought it might look nice." Everything about him seems dark and big. Almost scary. I really noticed it when I was studying him moving in the kitchen. He's right. I should have been scared when I walked into my apartment and he was just standing there. He's built like a freaking giant. His dark eyes and dark hair feed into the deadly edge. I'm sure he could just snap someone in half if he needed to. The tattoos and scars only add to his whole "I could snap you in half or go Hulk smash on you" mystique.

But when I first saw him, I knew something about him just felt right. I felt a pull to him like nothing I've ever known before. Heck, I am doing things with him I've never even thought about doing with anyone before.

"And what would you suggest?" he asks, like he'd actually do whatever it is I'd suggest.

"A cupcake?" I half-joke, thinking he'd never do that. "It could go right next to that skull."

Drake throws back his head and laughs. It rocks his body and makes me smile. I seem to even like him doing that, too. Everything he does gets me worked up. It makes me want to be wrapped around him again.

"I'm glad I'm moving in. I think I'll keep you. We seem to work better than I do with most people," I confirm. Yes. That seems logical. I could watch him all the time. Though I'm not sure how much work I'll get done. When I sat down at the breakfast bar, I'd intended to work on my laptop a little. I have a project that I need to get wrapped up-a big one-but my eyes couldn't seem to leave him.

"You keep saying 'move in here' like it's permanent. Is that what you're meaning, or am I not understanding you?"

"Is that not..." I pause, trying to think back to what he said. Something about staying with him and I'd be safe. He'd be my bodyguard while he found out who was stalking me. I drop my eyes away from him, feeling embarra.s.sed. It's a feeling I'm not used to. "You just meant until you find out who's stalking me."

I can't bring myself to look up at him. Is this what all those guys feel like when Elle tells them to hit the road? I suddenly feel bad for them.

I sense him before he even touches me, standing by my side. Then he cups my face in his hand, making me look up at him. Even with me sitting in the high-top chair, he's still ridiculously taller than me. He bends down a little, bringing our faces closer.

"You can stay here as long as you like." He moves in a little closer. "I work better with you than I do with most people, too."

"Really?" I wiggle forward a little bit, wanting to be closer to him. My a.s.s is practically hanging off the chair.

In one movement, he picks me up, takes my seat, and puts me onto his lap. My body straddles his thick thighs, and I settle against him perfectly.

"Yeah, really." He uses one hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "When your sister came to me about you and I saw your picture, I knew I'd be the one to take your case personally. I don't do personal bodyguarding anymore. I have men for that."

"Did you see a picture of my sister, too?" I ask, wanting to know. If Elle were here, she would have given me one of her elbow nudges to let me know it was a question I shouldn't be asking. Nine times out of ten, I know when I'm saying something I shouldn't. I'm not stupid, but subtlety just isn't a skill I could ever get myself to pick up. If I had a question, I asked it or found a way to get the answer.

"I saw hers first."

"And?" I nudge.

"And what?" His eyebrows come together like he doesn't understand what I'm getting at.

"You didn't want to guard her?"

"Like I told you, I put a guard on her." He grips my hips in a firm hold. "I'm guarding you. I didn't want anyone on you but me. From the first moment I saw that picture of you. Something hit me, and I had to see what it was. Call it the cop in me. Maybe it's the sixth sense you develop working on cases and busting down doors."

I wiggle a little in his lap.

"We do fit together well," I confirm.

"I can't think when you do that s.h.i.t."

"I know. Isn't it amazing? It's like my brain shuts down for once. I always feel like it's going, but with you..." I pause, because I can't seem to think how to finish that thought.

"It's like nothing else matters." He finishes it.

"You feel it, too?"

"Yeah." He nods, resting his forehead against mine.

"I have no idea what I'm doing. I've never done this. Heck, it's always just my sister and me. I don't even really have any friends unless you count the ones I have on the internet. And most of the time, we're just in compet.i.tion for stuff. I've never had a boyfriend. That's what you'd be, right?"

"Me neither."

I pull back to look at him. For once, he has to look up at me.

"Had a girlfriend," he finishes, and I just stare at him. I may not be into checking out men, but I know what women go for at least, and he fits the bill.

"But you're," I place my hands on his chest, feeling the tickle of his chest hair on my fingers, "you know, all s.e.xy and stuff." I feel my face warm a little at the admission. Again, the embarra.s.sment hits me, reminding me how he's so different to other men I've met.

"Let just say I'm not a real people person either. Never had the desire to have a girlfriend."

"But I'm right?" I edge, because he still hasn't confirmed this.

"That right there," his hands slide up my hips and back down, "and a few other reasons. That's why I'm so drawn to you. At first it was your picture, but from the moment you opened that mouth and things started to fall out, I knew I was f.u.c.ked."

"I like when you say stuff like that. Makes me feel all warm inside." I slide my own hands up his chest and around his neck.

"Isn't that what boyfriends are supposed to do? Make their woman feel all warm inside?" He doesn't let me answer. He just leans in and takes my mouth in a kiss. This time it's soft and sweet, not like the ones we've had before. Almost like a conformation that he's mine now.

I feel bold, and I want to explore as much about this new s.e.xual awakening as possible. Do all the things that girlfriends do.

I slide off the stool and push Drake's thighs apart.

"Cupcake." There's a dark edge to his voice, but I look up at him with a bright smile.

"I want to do girlfriend things."

I kneel in front of him so his c.o.c.k is at eye level. I run my hands up his thighs, then reach into the waistband of his loose shorts and tug at them.

"I-" He starts to say something, but when I pull at his shorts again, he stops to help me slide them off. "I don't know if I can control myself," he grits out.

"I've never done this before, so it may not go so well. Just let me explore."

His giant c.o.c.k bobs in front of me, and I lick my lips. I go to take off my gla.s.ses, but he stops me.

"Leave them on." His voice is filled with so much desire, it sends goose b.u.mps across my body. It's so exciting that I've made him feel that way.

I feel his fingers in my hair as he brushes it out of my face, holding it back for me as I lean forward and open my mouth.

His warm flavor hits my tongue, and I moan around the head of his c.o.c.k. He's a little salty, but I like the feel of him. His thighs tremble under my touch as I suck more of him into my mouth. He lets out a sharp breath, and more of his flavor floods my tongue.

I think he likes when I suck him, because the further down I go and swallow around his c.o.c.k, the more c.u.m seeps out. I start moving my mouth up and down, trying to suck at the same time to get more. I want to feel him c.u.m in my mouth, and this seems to be the way to do it.

"Hands, Zoey," he grunts, and it sounds like he's holding his breath.

I bring my hands up to his c.o.c.k, one goes to the shaft and the other to his b.a.l.l.s. He's so hard, yet his skin is so warm and soft. The delicate ridge against my tongue feels s.e.xy. I move the hand on his shaft in time with my mouth, and he immediately responds to that, giving me more c.u.m, growling as he does so. I lightly ma.s.sage his b.a.l.l.s with my other hand, feeling them draw up as a few more drops of c.u.m hit my mouth.

"f.u.c.k. I can't last." His hands tighten in my hair, and he goes to pull me off of him. "Zoey, come off, baby. I'll c.u.m in your mouth if you don't."

He tugs at my hair again, but I just grip him tighter and suck him deeper, not letting him take his c.o.c.k away. I want him to lose control like I did with him.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n, baby. I'm c.u.mming."

His thighs lock up as his c.u.m hits the back of my throat. I drink it down, sucking all of him up and making sure I don't spill any. He's moaning so loudly, and I love the sound. I love that I was able to do that to him. I feel so powerful at being able to get him off, and it's nice to know I can return the pleasure to him in some way.

When he's finished c.u.mming, I take my mouth off his hard c.o.c.k and give it one last kiss on the tip. He jerks in response, and I smile up at him, seeing his eyes are half-closed.

"I think I saw stars," he says, and it makes me smile.

"That was good?" I ask as he pulls me into his lap. I like that I pleased him.

"There's not a word to describe it. So much better than good, cupcake. Perfect." He grabs the back of my head, pulling me in for a soft kiss that I hate to pull away from.

"I think the food is burning." I know he seems to hate that I can distract him like that, but I love that I can do to him what he does to me.

"s.h.i.t." He jumps up and places me back on my chair before rushing over to the stove. He pulls a pan off and mumbles something about a distraction.

8.

Drake