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Chapter 2
Zaeed vaguely thought he heard the distinct sound of the gun at his hip falling to the floor before he was awash in the sense of her hand at the nape of his neck, dragging him to her.
He was wary - he had no idea where this was coming from, what her game was – why she had come at all, fists flying for it to end as wildly beating pulses, hot skin, and the hard-on inspiring scent of adrenaline and iron.
But he wasn't complaining.
His larger hand slipped to frame the side of her porcelain face, mapping the little nicks and scars, head bent to run his tongue over perfect lips, voicing a low growl of approval. His thumb brushed the pulse at her throat, discolored orbs scanning hers one last time for a measure of acquiescence before taking rough possession of her mouth as he felt her fingers dig deeply into the back of his scalp, leaving half-moon crescents in their wake.
Zaeed knew he was brutal, coarse, and profane all in a single day, but he'd always been able to congratulate himself for not being completely masochistic - no matter how sadistic and twisted he could be at the end of a bloody day. But damn if this wasn't worth whatever shit came after.
Nothing this good ever came this easy.
She bit his lip and sucked, lips twisting triumphantly as she heard him growl at the sharp burst of iron as she harassed the damage she'd caused earlier. Her lips curled against his as she felt his muscular body press her fully against the bulkhead, grinding together in unison.
The hand framing her face traveled to cup the back of her head, tangling in her hair as their mouths worked against each other in harsh crescendos, tongues continuing the duel they'd been fighting earlier. He tasted of leather and jungle - the underlying tang of metal, and she of feminine spice and burnt flora.
Neither found the need to stop as Zaeed's impossibly warm hand found the edge of her shirt and slipped under it, eliciting a hot wave of tingling biotics and a gasp of shock from the Commander of the SR2 Normandy as his fingers found their way to her spine, brushing in slow, deliberate circles - trailing up and down as she pressed further into him, heedless of her marine trained conscience that was blatantly telling her this was not one of her most intelligent decisions.
They knew that this momentary lapse wouldn't last - couldn't last, knowing when it ended the rolls of commander and hard ass mercenary would descend faster than either of them would have liked to admit. Too fast for Shepard to ever admit.
Instead, as though in defiance of herself; Shepard gripped the hair at the nape of Zaeed's neck and tugged forcefully, pulling his rough, pliable lips even more into the kiss so that their teeth nearly clashed and their bodies were sharp planes against each others.
It felt good, too good.
His body was sturdy against hers, his muscled arms and built chest as admirable as the tattoos that wrapped around the powerful arm that was undoing her with simple geometric shapes. She was astounded by how quickly things fell apart between them, heated and spiraled - and damn if she could fathom why she'd started this at all. She didn't want to confront whatever this was, whatever would now lie between them – but she knew she would have to. She'd come here to do what was right, and no matter how right this felt.
Zaeed Massani was an ass.
She'd have to remind herself of that after she removed her tongue from his mouth.
Her mind cheerfully informed her that that could wait for later.
Right now, the feel of his tanned skin against her own and the magnetism of the man's body was too much of a distraction to warrant any sort of guilty conscience.
She drew her hand down the length of his face, brushing and scrapping against the bristled stubble of his jaw when they finally broke apart again, breaths heavy as their eyes lingered.
His mouth began to twitch, a smirk beginning to inch its way across face, eyes glowing in the dim light of the cargo hold. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, head tilted as she drew her tongue slowly against his lower lip, their eyes still keeping their burning connection.
Shepard dipped her tongue between the half-parted seal of his lips to slide it against his teeth, sensually, letting the hand not buried in his cropped hair to drift to his hip, lazily dancing against the rough fabric of his pants before drifting up and under, fingertips gliding over the contradiction of hard muscle and soft skin that she found beneath his shirt.
He exhaled.
And the kiss broke as Zaeed shoved a knee roughly between her legs, both breathing heavily, his lips marking blazing trails along her jaw line as she arched in pleasure, suppressing moans and ragged breaths as his calloused fingers worked their way up her ribcage. They brushed just beneath the swell of her breast before they paused, continuing to draw circles on her smooth skin.
She pulled his head back up to her, growling against his lips as she rocked against him, he hissing an exhalation as he took her bottom lip between his teeth, the fingers in her silken hair guiding her closer to him as the hand along her ribcage slipped beneath the thin fabric beneath her shirt.
Her reaction was violent, but remarkable.
She flushed, her cry harsh yet soft as her body jerked, bumping unintentionally into the surveillance table and displacing Zaeed's prized krogan helmet which proceeded to fall to the slate floor with an obnoxiously loud BANG that knocked both of them back to their senses. They broke away from one another, only their heavy pants filling the silence of the room.
Neither of them tried to make eye contact.
It lasted for several long moments.
The dragging silence was broken by Zaeed, voice thick and hoarse as he grappled for composure in the now stagnant, awkward space.
"Shepard I – I ... don't know what the hell that was but…"
His brows were drawn together, creased as the sluggish return of clarity began to override his physical desires.
He returned to the original reason of this whole mess, his mind too busy running circuits he'd thought he'd fried long ago to properly process anything else but the tendrils of the familiar ground that granted him control.
It allowed him to slip reluctantly back into the guise of the profane mercenary as he tried in vain to erase the feel of her skin under his fingertips, her mouth working against his, her hand slipping -
He cut the train of thought off ruthlessly, instead letting the words he knew she'd wanted to hear echo dully in the now much colder space.
"Look Shepard, I - Vido was my life for twenty years, twenty fucking years; I wasn't exaggerating when I said I see his goddamn face every time I close my fucking eyes – It's just goddamn hard to know the bastard was right there and I didn't get a chance to shoot his ass."
Discolored eyes slid back to hers, and Shepard had more reason to acknowledge that this was a mistake - the mercenary mantle was back, his back was straight, his eyes displaying only small, trace amounts of the confusion she felt at whatever had passed between them.
Damn it, she could still feel his fingers on her skin, the rough tug of his lips on her own.
She felt disgusted at what she'd done.
She watched him shift almost uncomfortably, realizing that this was as close to an apology as she was going to get and as close to him admitting, by not admitting, what had just happened.
Whatever this was, from her perspective it was done – no good could come of it, and he seemed to think as much.
Nodding in understanding, her orbs softened as she searched his, a calm ocean blue as opposed to their previous stormy blue-gray.
"Don't let it happen again."
She said firmly, a softer smile flickering briefly across her lips before she was Commander Shepard again. She gave him a curt nod and turned as though to leave, but stopped when she felt Zaeed's hand brush her arm, having gone the few steps to reach her; brows creased and eyes thoughtful.
"Shepard I …" He looked away, hand falling to his side, suddenly at a loss for words but prompted by the sudden feeling that it shouldn't end this way - he was callous enough to admit he was all for a quick fuck normally, but this, this was different. He could feel it.
It irritated him to high hell.
"Massani...?" Her elegant brows drew together; hazy orbs flitting across scars and hidden facades in search of something.
When he finally uttered the singular, gruff word, the glitter of intrigue and speculation and desire were apparent in his unique eyes.
"Thanks."
Her eyes narrowed, but a slow smile flickered into being as she watched the veteran mercenary, the mercenary that had killed hundreds, had survived six men restraining him to be shot in the head, turn and walk back to his normal post, leg and arms crossed as he stared out the airlock into empty space.
She left then, footfalls silent as she departed.
When Zaeed looked back to where Shepard had been, she was gone - only the taste of spice and iron, the scent of metal lingering hauntingly in the air, and the scattering of data pads and weapons were a testimony of her having been there at all.
With no one there to see, Zaeed Massani sank to the floor, an arm resting on his knee as he reflected. Shaking his head in disbelief, the mercenary turned to glare at his previously prized krogan helmet.
Goddamn piece of -
His head fell into his hands, fingertips massaging his temples.
"Damn if I don't need a drink."