The sight of her naked body draped over the marble caught at him. She had the most beautiful ass. Everything about her was perfection to him. He loved her shape. Every curve. Her coloring. Her sense of fun. Every damn thing.
His cock jerked hard when she pushed her ass close and rubbed. He swatted her hard and laughed when she yelped and tried to turn her head. It was too late—he was slamming home, driving himself deep, letting the fire consume them both. He’d been sated earlier, so this time he was going to be able to hold out, take more time, feel the burn for a long, long time and give her multiple orgasms. Many, many. He had plans for the day. She didn’t get many of them off, and she deserved to have the best day he could give her.
NINETEEN
Czar stood for a long time studying from every angle the drawing Anat’s husband had given her as an anniversary present. Player had hung it on the wall of the large shed farthest from his house. He’d kept the lighting bright throughout the shed, even spotlighting the drawing. He didn’t want to take any chances that if the visitor appeared—and at some point, he wanted to draw him out—the man would be able to see enough to identify where they were. Already, Player feared he could find Zyah.
Czar wasn’t the only member of Torpedo Ink present. Savage, Ink, Storm, Maestro and Mechanic were there as well. Player, like the others, wasn’t happy that the president of their club had insisted he come. No one knew what they were dealing with, so they didn’t want to risk Czar, Lana or Alena or any of the married men. Czar and Steele were deemed by the club far too valuable, although had they known the others had secretly met and had tried to keep them away, they would have been furious.
“No matter how I look at this thing, Player, I don’t see anything but a very beautiful and complicated drawing.” Czar turned to the others. “Any of you see anything different?”
Savage had draped himself by the door, but his gaze was fixed on the picture. He always looked casual and very relaxed. No one who knew him ever bought that pose. He was completely focused, ready to protect Czar should any threat suddenly come to him.
Player was grateful no one thought he was insane. They hadn’t witnessed him putting the bomb together, nor had they seen the eyes watching from the center of the drawing, but they didn’t question him. Maestro and Anat had heard the ticking of the clock, but that was the only real proof Player had to back his story, and it was thin. Zyah had added her testimony to his, handing her notes over to Czar, as well as her sketches, hoping Czar might identify the man from their past. He hadn’t been able to.
“Sorry, Player,” Savage said.
One by one, the others all studied the drawing just as thoroughly as Czar had. No one was able to see what was so clear to Player. It was frustrating.
Zyah fished around in her purse and pulled out a small box. Carefully she opened it and unwrapped a monocle, using almost a reverent touch. “Try this, Czar, but please be very careful. It means a great deal to my grandmother. It was my grandfather’s, and he wore it all the time when he was working on this drawing.”
Player had no idea she had asked Anat to borrow it. Instinctively, he knew Zyah would never have taken it from the house without permission. Her hand shook just a little as she handed it off to Czar. Clearly, she’d even asked Anat a few questions about the monocle.
Czar stood in front of the drawing and fitted the eyepiece over his right eye. His swift intake of breath was audible. “That fucker. What an anniversary present to give his wife. He put plans for a bomb in a drawing for her. Firstclass asshole.”
Player glanced at Zyah’s stricken expression. “Czar.”
Czar followed his gaze. “Sorry, Zyah.” Clearly, his anger hadn’t been expelled, because he swore in his native language. What kind of man does that to his woman?
Zyah cleared her throat. “It’s all right, Czar. I knew the plans for the bomb were there. I didn’t want to know, but Player’s been building it for weeks now. I had to accept the fact once he told me. I didn’t know about my grandfather’s monocle being the device to reveal the plans. And just to let you know—I’m a fairly strong telepath. I don’t hear what you’re saying when it isn’t directed to me, but I know you’re saying something. You don’t have to try to spare my feelings.”
“Just the same,” Savage said, taking the monocle from Czar. “There’s no need to make you feel worse than you already do. Anat’s going to have a very difficult time with this.” He fitted the round piece to his eye and studied the drawing, whistling softly. “This man was a pro. This was made how many years ago?” He passed the monocle to Ink.