Being Zolt (14 page)

Zolt moaned, and his hand fisted my loose braid. “Fuck, Irelyn. That feels so good.”

I took him in deeper, breathing in and out through my nose to keep from gagging. He was so long that it took a concentrated effort on my part not to become overwhelmed by him.

He let out another garbled “fuck” through his teeth, letting me know he enjoyed my attentions.

With my tongue, I flicked the head of his cock, sucking harder, drawing him deeper into my mouth.

Zolt put his hand on the back of my head and fucked my mouth energetically. I loved every minute knowing I unraveled my man; the same man who unraveled me on a daily basis.

“Are you sure, Irelyn?” he ground out.

I smiled at him and nodded, hoping the expression in my eyes conveyed my eagerness to bring him to climax in my mouth. The only time I’d given him head was the morning I’d spent the night at his house, and I wanted to do this for him now.

Zolt clutched my hair almost to the point of pain, and his face tensed as he silently came, his lips forming that sexy O. I swallowed everything he had to give me. It may not be my favorite thing in the world, but seeing him come undone by me more than made up for it.

Fuck, it doesn’t get better than that.

Before I could even think about standing, Zolt pulled me to my feet and shoved me on the bed. I yelped in surprise, stopping short of breaking into a fit of giggles. He made short work of divesting me from my jeans and Oscar de la Renta embroidered top before climbing on top of me. The sheets were a little scratchy against my skin, but I didn’t care. When Zolt slid into me, kissing me like there was no tomorrow, I no longer cared about the sheets.

“I’m sorry if you wanted this slow and sweet, baby because I’m in the mood for hard and fast. You’re going to want to scream. Don’t you dare? We don’t want T and Grant to hear us.”

“No,” I mewled.

Zolt dispensed with foreplay, which suited me fine; sucking his cock made me hot and ready. What I wanted the most, needed the most, was for him to screw me into a place where all the shit in my life didn’t matter.

And that’s what he did.

On his knees, he pounded into me with my legs stretched wide. His muscles flexed and rippled with every thrust, making him that much sexier.

I closed my eyes and reveled in the exquisite sensation of being fucked hard by my husband. My impending climax ascended at a quick rate, and I spasmed around him, making us both gasp in pleasure.

“Come, Irelyn!” Zolt demanded. “Come for me now!”

And I did, as if his voice alone was my trigger. My head thrashed on the pillow as my mind-bending orgasm tore through my body. I bit my shirt to keep from screaming; it felt too good.

Zolt kissed me and let go himself, enjoying a second climax.

Fuck, we are so good together
, I thought as I clenched my muscles around him, making sure to take every last drop from him.

He opened his eyes and stared into mine. His gaze said everything he wasn’t; everything I needed to hear.

“It’s going to be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

I wrapped my body around him, bringing him tight against me.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ll make it that way. By the way, welcome to the Mile-High Club.”

We traveled through the streets of Quebec, heading toward the house where my parents were holed up. My entire body clenched with nerves, and not even Zolt’s touch and soft caresses eased me.

I couldn’t believe we’d come to this. That I was on my way to present the mountains of evidence against my father and to place Chris’s death at his feet.

I tried to play out the scenario in my head and anticipate his reaction, but I couldn’t. Predicting the reaction of a man who had embraced the person responsible for his son’s death, and who willingly gave his only daughter to said man, was impossible.

So I quit trying and snuggled into Zolt’s side, taking the strength he offered.

I had myself under control until we pulled into the driveway of the house. I began to sweat and my stomach gurgled with nerves, and I clutched at my mid-section and prayed for it to settle.

The driver opened the door and Zolt got out, holding out his hand for me. I clambered out of the limo, taking hold of my husband’s hand, clutching it for dear life.

“Okay,” T-bone said as he and Grant exited, “let’s get this over with.”

An air of apprehension hung over the four of us as we walked the cobblestone path leading to the door of the townhouse. As temporary housing went, the place had an expensive feel to it, which was not surprising; Jacob Wilkes loved the finer things in life and refused to settle for less.

T-bone and Grant stepped in front of me, and Zolt pulled me possessively to his side. T rang the doorbell, and we collectively held our breaths waiting for the black door to open.

“Can I help you?” a tall, middle-aged man asked. Probably about sixty or so years old, the man had a stern face with sharp features. He gave me the willies.

“We’re here to see Jacob Wilkes,” T said.

The man gave T-bone and Grant a suspicious once-over. Not surprising, the men were scary as hell with their skull-buzzed haircut and bald heads.

“Whom shall I say is calling? Mr. Wilkes is not expecting company today.” The man’s brusque voice held no warmth. He straightened his grey suit jacket, and the glint in his hazel eyes said he wasn’t about to let us in.

“Tell him his daughter is here to see him,” I said and pushed my way past Zolt and T, offering a sweet smile to combat the wall of menacing testosterone surrounding me.

“Very well then, you may come in.” He stepped aside and made room for us to enter into a small entryway. The three men dominated the space with their intimidating presence. “Wait here.” The man disappeared down the hallway, and we all stood there waiting for his return.

“Nice digs,” T said, taking in the marble floors and dark, hardwood wainscoting.

“Nothing but the best,” I agreed.

Zolt took my hand and kissed my ring, and I smiled at him, loving him just a little more.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes will see you. If you will come this way,” the man said, returning down the same hallway he’d come from.

T-bone and Grant went first, and Zolt and I followed. I rubbed my sweat-dampened hand down my jeans, glad they were dark-washed so you wouldn’t see the trail my hand made.

My parents were seated in a richly furnished sitting room with a fireplace. The lighting was soft and cozy, and I had to wonder what they’d been doing. They seemed content, completely oblivious to the bombshell we were about to drop.

“Mom.” I kept hold of Zolt’s hand and squared my shoulders. “Father.”

Jacob Wilkes flinched at my use of the word “father.”

I never called him that.

“Irelyn, Zolt. This is a surprise, dear. Why are you here? Is everything all right? Who are these men with you?” Mom asked as she stood from her seat and smoothed her impeccable designer pants suit.

“They’re my security, and no, Mom, everything is not all right.”

“Irelyn,” my father said in a stern voice, standing as well. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Father, let me introduce you to Rick Stanley and Grant Brown. And, of course, you know my husband, Zolt.”

My father’s face fell and Mom gasped.

“Husband? You and Zolt are married?” My mom clutched at the string of pearls around her graceful neck. “When, Irelyn? When did you get married?”

“Yesterday,” Zolt answered.

“Are you pregnant?” Mom accused, but behind her words, I could see the hurt in her green gaze.

Nonetheless, the question pissed me off and my lip snarled. “No, Mom, I’m not pregnant. I love Zolt. I told you that,” I retorted defensively.

“And I love her,” Zolt added. “She’s my everything.”

“This isn’t possible. You’re with Marcus. What have you done, Irelyn?” My father’s face went ashen, and I wondered if he was going to pass out. The ramifications of what my marriage meant to him and his web of lies had started to sink in. I could see it in the fear that widened his sable-browns. Marcus no longer had control of me, and Jacob Wilkes had lost his only bargaining chip.

“That’s right,
Daddy
,” I spat out. “I’m no longer yours to bargain with. You’ll have to figure out another way to repay Marcus for saving your sorry ass!”

“Irelyn! You will not speak to your father that way.” Mom stepped to my father’s side in a show of solidarity, but I knew in the moments to come, that solidarity would be forever destroyed.

“Shall I tell her,
Daddy,
or do you want to?”

Emme Wilkes stared at her husband, her gaze questioning.

My cowardly father stood petrified with his mouth sealed shut. Saying nothing. Doing nothing.

“Tell her, or I will!” I yelled.

“No,” he mumbled and hung his head.

“What, Jake? What is Irelyn talking about?” My mom’s voice quavered and I could see fear flash in her eyes. They widened to saucers and she twisted her pearls.

I glanced at Zolt and closed my own eyes. I couldn’t say the words—they were stuck in my throat behind the lump that had formed there.

Zolt squeezed my hand and stepped forward at the same time T and Grant stepped behind him.

“I hired Rick,” Zolt pointed over his shoulder at T-bone, “when I first met Irelyn. He runs a security and private investigations firm. Irelyn had mentioned how the circumstances surrounding Chris’s death seemed unsettled to her, and that she didn’t believe the robbery-gone-bad theory. It didn’t take long for Rick to discover the many roadblocks put in place to dissuade anyone from investigating the case. After you two left to come here, Irelyn broke up with Marcus and we started seeing each other. During this time, Marcus’s plans for Irelyn came to light, thanks to Rick’s investigation. But you already know all of this, don’t you, Jacob? It’s the reason you left.”

Zolt’s body tensed, and I worried he’d lose it and beat the shit out of my father.

I wish I cared, but I didn’t.

“Jake?” Mom implored as she stared at my father. But still, he said nothing. His face had turned into an impenetrable mask of nothingness.

That’s when I cracked. I got in my father’s face and started screaming.

“Tell her, Jacob. Tell her what you did. Tell her that you gave your only daughter to the man who’d murdered her son. Tell her how you got in over your head and needed Marcus to bail you out after one of your conquests threatened to go public. Tell her how you let Chris and Marcus run a sex club from her father’s ranch, and that you used to screw women there on a regular basis. Tell her that Marcus turned the club into a sex-trafficking operation, and how when Chris tried to stop it, Marcus murdered him to shut him up. And tell her how after all of that, after seeing your son brutally beat to death and lying in a pool of his own blood with his face unrecognizable, you still gave your only daughter to the man who did it. Tell. Her!”

“Jake. Please,” Mom pleaded, tears filling her eyes. She clutched at her midsection. “This can’t be true.”

“I had no choice. Marcus controls everything. He owns Scottsdale and everyone of importance in it. I couldn’t fight him. I did what I could do to save you. I brought in Zolt.”

“No, Jacob,” Zolt said, stepping forward. “Chris did that. Your son put the wheels in motion, and thank God, you followed through…”

Zolt pulled me behind him as he stood toe-to-toe with my father. In the background, I could hear my mom sobbing.

“Do you have any idea what Marcus did to Irelyn? No, of course, you don’t, because you tucked tail and ran.”

Zolt pulled me to his side, turned me around, and pushed up my shirt to show the only scar remaining from Marcus’s flogging.

I heard my mom’s choked sob.

“He beat your daughter with a flogger, and then paraded her in front of Scottsdale society like a favorite pet. Had I not intervened, he would have raped her, as well.”

I turned around, straightening my shirt, and once again faced my father. “If that’s not bad enough, now Marcus has Kenna Campbell and we can’t find her. He’s hiding her somewhere while he waits to auction her virginity to the highest bidder.”

“My God,” Mom murmured.

“Prior to that, he intended to auction Irelyn for a night of nonconsensual sex if I hadn’t stopped him first,” Zolt growled.

“No. Marcus promised me he wouldn’t,” my father said, his voice dying out as the last of his defiance left him. He ran his hand through his graying hair, and then pulled on it.

My mom visibly shook, and it hurt me to see the always-strong and put-together woman reduced to a mere shadow of herself because of her husband.

“Thanks to Chris, we know all about Black Swan and how the property transactions were used to launder monies from the sex club and sex trafficking.”

“I don’t understand what Chris had to do with any of this,” father said.

“He left me a video, sending us in the right direction. When we followed his lead, we found the evidence he had gathered. We have it all,
Daddy
. A list of the club’s clients, including the activities they participated in. Everything. We also know that Bennett tried to cover up the laundering when the Aspen/Black Swan settlement threatened to uncover the issue.”