Page 30 of Fighting for Lucy

The hand around her neck was gentle, his fingertips lightly caressing her skin, and he’d lifted a knee, bracing it between her legs so that she was mostly balanced on his knee rather thanhanging by her throat. He was making no effort to cut off her air supply or even impede it in any way, and he had said the code word.

A code word that everyone connected to Prey was aware of. It was a play on words of sorts, substituting the word prey for its homophone pray, and then using a word that went with the homophone. All Prey employees were aware of it, and it was meant to be used in case you were ever approached in the field by someone, you could then easily identify them as an ally instead of an enemy.

But why did Zander Madden—who had never worked for Prey—know the code word?

“Look, I know you have no reason to believe anything I say, but I need you to hear me out, both our lives depend on it,” Zander said.

As much as she wanted to hear his explanation for why he was walking around alive and well when his sister had buried him, and why he was buddies with a notorious weapons trafficker, it was hard to think of anything else but the desire inside her that only got worse with him so close to her. The feel of his massive thigh between her legs, pressed right up against her wet and aching center was too good, and she rocked her hips, creating the tiniest amount of friction that made her moan in delight.

Gritting his teeth he lowered her to the floor. “Don’t do that, sassy girl.”

Crying out at the loss of minimal contact, Lucy threw caution to the wind and thrust her hips forward in a silent plea, wishing her hands weren’t bound so she could grab his wrist and force his hand to soothe her suffering. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her, they didn't know each other well, but at least they did know each other, and she’d wondered if he was undercover somehow, solearning that he was—which was the only explanation for him knowing the Prey code word—meant he was a good guy.

If a good guy brought her relief, she wouldn’t have to hate herself as much.

“I can't, baby,” he murmured although he looked torn.

“I need you to.” Begging was absolutely not beneath her at the moment, not with Zander.

“You can't consent,” he reminded her. “And I won't be the guy who assaults you while you're vulnerable.”

“You'd be the guy saving me.” Letting her forehead drop forward to rest against his chest, she whimpered and rode out another wave of excruciating arousal. “It’s awful, Zander. So bad. I hate those men so much, but I was so close to pleading with them to touch me. Anything to relieve this pressure. I feel like I'm about to explode and not in a good way. Please. Help me.”

“Baby,” he said, voice tortured. “You don’t even know why I'm here, and you hate me.”

“Not hate,” she clarified. “I know that you know the Prey codeword which means Eagle knows what you're doing. You're undercover, and while I'm not going to lie and say I'm not furious with you for hurting your sister, who I love like a sister, I know you have a reason for it. Please, I'm … begging … I'm literally begging. I can't stand this any longer, I'm going to lose my mind.”

Shame filled her and she kept her head down as tears leaked out.

The promises she’d made to herself to never beg for relief were broken now.

Just because it was with a man she trusted—well mostly trusted—only made it a little bit better. It still hurt to know she wasn’t as strong as she believed herself to be.

“Oh, baby.” A finger hooked under her chin and Zander took a step back and nudged until she was forced to meet his eye. “I can't touch you, not when you're like this, but I have an idea.”

An idea?

Hope sparked inside her.

She’d take anything she could get right now.

Grabbing her arm, he guided her over to the other door. This one she knew led to a bathroom, but it was kept locked unless one of the guards came in and allowed her to use the toilet. With the same key he’d used to enter her room, Zander unlocked the bathroom door and led her inside.

As soon as he’d closed the door behind them, he pulled out a knife and cut the zip ties binding her wrists. Pain immediately blossomed in her broken arm, and up through her shoulders as blood flow was allowed to return.

So very gently, Zander took her bad arm and carefully eased it forward and then began to massage it, helping with the horrendous pins and needles sensation. Once he was done, he repeated the process with her good arm, and Lucy felt her body relax under his ministrations. He might not be touching her where she needed him, but he was touching her, and the human contact felt so nice.

“Do you need help getting your clothes off?” he asked as he finally released her.

Eyes snapping open, she looked up at him. “Clothes off?” Was he going to ease the ache of arousal that lived inside her?

“Shower massager,” he said, nodding at the shower behind them. “My bathroom has one, I was hoping yours would, too. I can't touch you, Lucy. Not because I don’t think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, not because I haven’t craved you since we first met, it’s because I've done enough things that weigh on my conscience and this can't be one ofthem. But I can't watch you suffer either. I thought it would be a good compromise.”

It was perfect. “I think I love you,” she murmured.

Zander laughed and he looked so wonderful, all relaxed like that, that her heart swelled in her chest. Before her stood a man who she somehow knew instinctively was broken in a lot of ways. Whatever he was doing here clearly wasn’t easy for him, but she knew without him having to say it that he was risking a lot by helping her in any way.

While Zander turned the shower on and adjusted the temperature, Lucy tried her best to get out of the jeans and sweater she’d been stuck in for the last several days. Seeing her struggling, Zander came back to her and helped her ease the sweater off, being so careful of her broken arm that tears stung her eyes.

---