by R. S. Elliot
He freezes.
His gaze finally lifts to mine, weaving back and forth, studying my face to discern my exact motives. I’m sure by now he can tell. The flush of pink in my cheeks must tell all. His eyes dip lower, toward my mouth. I tip forward, the way I’ve seen other girls do when trying to draw attention to their breasts. My movement lands the mark, and the blush in my cheeks surges into a savage burn.
“No?” He lifts his stare slowly to meet mine. The final traces of desire vanish behind a thin veil of indifference. He can pretend all he wants, but he’s already shown himself; what he wants.
I rise to my feet.
His pensive gaze follows me, straying down to the sway of my hips as I walk toward him. I place myself between him and his desk and lean back against the edge. Even sitting down, he is almost as tall as me. His eyes move up the length of me, over the black faux leather skirt hugging my curves and shrinking in the middle of my waist. They continue upward, over my breasts that are partly exposed due to the shocking neckline of my blouse.
When his stare touches mine, there is no longer that lingering doubt. There is no denial of his feelings for me, of how badly he wants me. And there is no mistaking how badly I want to make this happen, nor how far I’m willing to go to make him mine. I’ve come a long way from someone who just sits on the sidelines to someone not afraid to take what she wants. But I’m tired of the games.
Tired of waiting.
“I know you said you wanted to wait until the semester is over,” I say, my voice nearly a whisper. “But if I’m not worth the risk now, I won’t be worth the wait.”
“Aly…” His voice is a low grumble. I feel it all the way down to the pit of my stomach.
“Just let me finish.” I stop him, leaning forward and placing a hand on his chest. His pulse drums as wildly beneath my palm as my own does in my ears. “I know what’s at stake if I do this. If someone catches us. I’m willing to put what I have on the line. I’ll just forge another path for what I want, the same way I have always done.”
My hand slides up his shoulder. I know these muscles well. I know every inch of this part of him, still curious to uncover more.
“I’m willing to sacrifice it all,” I say. “For you.”
“And if I still say no?”
I stop, paralyzed by the implication in his words. My hand drops to my side. “Then I’ll have my answer. But don’t expect me to wait for you.”
His cold facade crumbles, and he groans. His fingertips climb to the bridge of his nose, pinching the slender bone between his grip. “You can’t give me an ultimatum, Aly. That isn’t fair.”
“I’m not giving you an ultimatum,” I explain, heat rising to my words. “I’m not demanding you make a decision to save yourself. There are no threats, nothing attached. I’m just asking that you be fair with my feelings. I can’t wait another two months for you to decide you don’t want me at the end of them.”
He stares at me silently, as if he hadn’t expected me to make that connection so quickly. A sharp pain stabs its way into my chest. My God. Is there already someone else?
“It’s not like that.” He shakes his head. “You’re not being reasonable. I need more than a minute to make a decision.”
“You’ve had weeks.” The only response I receive is two wide, unreadable jade eyes. Since we’ve been apart, all I can think about is being with him. How could I make it work? Is it worth the risk? I found my answer. I found the strength to go for what I wanted even if I lost it all. Even if I looked foolish doing it. But he hasn’t even given it another thought. All this time that’s passed between us, and I was just another face to forget.
“You’re telling me you haven’t given this a second thought since then?” I straighten, taking a step toward him. “You’re telling me you haven’t come up with a solution that doesn’t keep us apart for this long? Or found a way to deal with what we are risking?”
Silence. Still.
I take a deep breath. “This isn’t easy for me, Zach. I don’t…”
What? Fall in love with random customers at work? Pursue my professors even after I’ve been warned it could cost us both more than we’re willing to risk?
“You’re the first man who’s ever touched me like that,” I confess.
A lump moves at his throat, but he otherwise doesn’t seem shocked. Did he know all this time? Could he tell just by how I reacted to him? “You’re the first man I’ve ever let into my heart. I deserve some honesty. Do you want me? I mean, really want me. Or are you just biding your time? Hoping I’ll eventually forget and move on?”
The softness in his eyes worries me more than reassures. An ounce of pity lingers beneath them, and it is an ounce too many. His fist rests at his lips. He is contemplating my words. Maybe contemplating how badly he wants me even. The time passing between us feels endless, and I sigh in defeat.
Fine, Professor Hawthorne. You win.
He stands, briefcase in hand, and walks toward the door. My heart tugs forward as if connected to him by an invisible string.
It’s fine, I tell myself. I did everything I set out to do. I let him know how I felt about him, I told him I could handle the risks. Doesn’t that defeat like half of the drama in all those Hallmark movies right off the bat? But if he doesn’t want me, then there is nothing I can do to change it.
I’m fine, I tell myself.
And I almost believe it.
Until I hear the door lock behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
Zach
“Is this the part where you kill me?” Aly asks.
I laugh, dropping my briefcase to the floor by the door. “No.”
I cross the distance between us, walking back toward my desk to stand in front of her. The many fantasies and images conjured just from her standing there nearly killed me. This woman is dressed to distract, wearing something straight out of an erotic experience, and completely unafraid to ask for what she wants.
There’s no way in hell I’m denying her anything.
“This is the part where you get what you want.” My hand dips into her hair. The strands twine around my fingers like soft waves of ginger and flames. “And so do I.”
“Zach, if this is just because-”
“Don’t.” I stop her. Whatever she thinks I’m doing, I don’t want to hear it. If there are any doubts left in her mind about whether my feelings are sincere or not, I’ll make sure there aren’t any left by the end of the night.
My mouth covers hers. The warm, spiced flavor of her lips engulfs me, and I drink in every taste, worshiping her mouth. Enjoying every last inch of cinnamon and sweetness her lips have to offer. Every kiss echoes a whisper of devotion. Each taste conveys a promise. One I’m still unsure how to keep.
I can’t convince myself Aly means nothing to me, that she isn’t at the beginning and end of every thought. I can’t even convince myself that keeping her at arm’s length is what’s right anymore. I need this woman who questions me at every turn. Need her soft round eyes that make me want to change the world.
I need her with every breath in me.
And tonight, she’s all mine.
My hands slide down her waist and lift her up onto my desk. She’s still a few inches shorter than me, but at a much better angle for me to kiss her. My palms move down to her knees. I spread her thighs, moving between them, drawing her closer to me.
“I want you, Aly,” I whisper against her cheek. Her body shivers, sending a tremor through my already hardened cock.
“I’m yours,” she says, this time affecting another part of me.
I claim her mouth again, this time hungrier, more demanding. I tilt her head back and slant my mouth over hers, deepening the kiss until no area remains untouched. My hand cradles her skull, holding her in place. She feels so soft and fragile beneath me. One confession lingers between us, but I haven’t had the chance to ask her to clarify.
You’re the first man who’s ever touched me like that.
&nb
sp; Christ.
Is she still a virgin? If she is, I don’t want to rush this moment for her. But I’m slowly losing the will to hold back.
My mouth leaves hers, trailing down her neck to the long strip of flesh exposed by her blouse. I unhook another button, and her bra is already visible beneath.
“I need you to tell me something, Aly,” I say, pressing a kiss between her breasts.
“Anything.” The faint trembling of her body reverberates through her voice.
“Is this your first time?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her body stills, and I raise my gaze back up to meet her. Her teeth close over her lower lip. She’s contemplating whether to tell me, whether it will matter. Finally, she nods.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Wait for what? I’ve waited long enough. No one has ever made me want to do this before.”
Another stroke to the ego, and my cock throbs for release. I’m the only one to make her like this? I’m the only one she’s wanted to be with? I’m the first person who’ll ever make love to Aly McKenzie.
And if I have it my way, I’ll also be the last.
“I’m ready.” Her fingers reach out and clench my shirt. They quickly work the buttons apart from their holes before pulling the shirt down my arms. “You’re the one I want this with. Make love to me, Zach. Please, don’t let me wait any longer.”
A low grumble emerges. She knows absolutely all the right words to say, everything to make me lose my good sense in an instant. My hands curve around her bottom. I tug her to the end of the table and move one hand beneath her skirt. My fingers graze the inside of her thigh, and she twitches in a delicious jolt of anticipation.
The smoothness of her legs gives way to the hot, slick center of her pussy. Damn. She’s already wet for me. I slide one finger inside her, pressing down into her core, pleasuring her with slow, languid movements. She’s so tight around me, my erection immediately reacts. Immediately, it wants to be there, encased in the glorious space between her thighs.
Soft whimpers escape her throat. Her hips move against my hand, pushing me deeper inside her. I press another finger against her, and she jolts forward, resting her head on my shoulder. She’s almost past the breaking point, ready to shatter beneath my touch all over again. Her body clenches around my hand, and I feel the crest of her orgasm as she comes apart beneath me. My rhythm slows, waiting for the final streams of pleasure to move through her before removing my touch.
She looks so beautiful.
Her pale-blue eyes stare back at me beneath a half-lidded gaze. Making love was never like this. This is nothing short of magic. My pulse trips, forgetting its role to enjoy one moment of weakness. Am I in love with Aly? Is that why I can’t stay away? There’s only one remedy for an affliction like that, and I’m not sure I’m ready to accept it yet.
I lean my lips against her ear. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
A deep throaty laugh pushes past her lips. “I know. I can’t really wear it with this skirt.”
“Well, it made things a lot easier,” I say, my hands moving to release the last remaining buttons on her shirt.
“Let me touch you,” she says, panting. Her hands reach for the top button of my pants. “I want to feel you.”
I move out of her grasp. Because if I let her touch me now, it’ll be all over. “You will, soon enough.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Please, I want to make you feel this way.”
I hold her stare.
That same impenetrable shield of resistance rises behind her gaze, and I know there is no possibility of convincing her otherwise. I nod and help her remove my pants and boxer briefs.
My erection springs forward. Her small, delicate fingers close around me, and I grip the end of the desk for support. I’m in trouble. Not the small kind of trouble where I’ll acknowledge this was a mistake in the morning and move on. I’m talking the full-on married-in-Vegas-after-a-wild-night kind of trouble.
The kind of trouble that changes you forever.
Forever. With Aly.
A lifetime between her thighs, watching her pleasure spill out of her in rapturous delight. Knowing that I am the only man to make her feel this way. I could live with trouble like that.
And I would die happy.
Aly’s fingers stroke along my cock, their inexperienced movements as skillful as any trained seductress. If only for the fact that it’s her, her hands on me, finally.
“Show me,” she says, her lips at my ear. “Show me what to do.”
My hand moves between us, covering hers, guiding her in the way to please me. I lean into her, sighing against her shoulder. I’m like putty in her hands. Metaphorically. Literally, I’m a solid fucking rock. With so much pressure building within me, I’m surprised I haven’t completely combusted where I stand.
I kiss her neck, hitting the sensitive space behind her ear. The one that causes her body to tense up beneath me and release that tiny gasp I love so much. I lift my hand from the table and pull aside the open halves of her shirt. I need something to focus on, or I’m finished before we’ve even started.
I push down her bra, exposing one taut, pink nipple. My mouth closes over her, drawing circles around the tiny bud with my tongue. Her hands continue along my cock, caressing me into utter oblivion. They only stumble for a moment when I take her nipple between my teeth.
We are both shaking, breathless. The pounding in my ears signals that I’m slowly losing my last seconds of control. I pull away from Aly’s touch, kissing her to silence any argument. “Now, Aly. I need you now.”
She nods. I reach for the top drawer of my desk but stop myself.
What the hell am I looking for? I don’t keep condoms in my desk drawer at work. Panic grips me. I need to be in this woman now. I need Aly writhing beneath me, demanding a feeling of pure bliss only I can give her. But I can’t do it like this. I don’t even know if she’s on birth control. “Fuck. I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s fine. I do.” She twists at the hip, doing a semi-acrobatic stunt to reach her purse without moving off the desk. I note that ability for later and hold her in place to steady her. “I came prepared.”
She spirals back into place and holds the thin package out to me. I take it, smiling. She brought a condom but not her underwear? A small chuckle rises in my throat.
Of course she did.
I never stood a chance.
Chapter Nineteen
Aly
Zach slides the condom over his erection, and a shiver weaves its way down my spine.
This is finally happening.
I’m going to make love for the first time in my life.
With Zach.
I’ve never wanted this more than I do now. I’ve never even stopped to take the time for dating. It always felt selfish, careless. I don’t have time for romance, for men, and all that they require to be kept happy. But with Zach, it never felt like I was sacrificing my time. Because every moment I spent with him felt precious.
I didn’t feel selfish for pursuing what I wanted. It just felt right.
His hands wrap around my thighs, lifting my skirt higher until they are a thin bunch about my hips. He hooks one arm under my knee and lifts my hips toward him, pressing me back against the desk. I prop myself up on my elbow. My fingers curl around the edge of the desk.
The tip of his erection pushes against my entrance, and it takes all I have not to come on the spot. He leaves a kiss against my forehead. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” I can barely speak. “Make me yours.”
He presses into me, and I swear I have flat-lined. He takes me in short, easy strokes. With each thrust, he moves deeper inside me, allowing my body to adjust to his size, to him. Electricity shoots down to my toes. Every inch of my lower extremities goes numb. The only sensations I feel are where his body meets mine, caressing me in tantalizing slow strokes. I fe
el my body stretching around him, welcoming him. My hips rock up to meet him, wanting him to end this torture.
Tension builds within me, this time, different from before. The intensity tightens in the core of my body, tightening until I fear I might collapse. Like I might melt into a puddle of red hair and haggard gasps right here on his office floor.
“God, Aly,” he whispers against my temple. “You feel so good.”
His arm loops under my other knee, angling me higher against him. He plunges deeper within me, hitting a spot at the center of my core that delivers shockwaves across my body. His pace quickens, and I cry out to ease the pressure forming between my thighs.
I reach out, pulling him against me, wanting to feel as much of his body against me as I can. His lips cover mine, drinking in the sounds escaping my throat as he continues to ravish my body. The final tether holding me in place snaps. Heat floods across my face as the wave of ecstasy consumes me. I crumble in his arms, weak and trembling.
He doesn’t slow his pace. In fact, he moves faster. The pressure in me builds again, renewed and unsatisfied with draining me of all energy. Despite my lack of breath and fully-functioning brain cells, my body constricts around him. I am rising even higher until we both tumble back down to Earth.
He leans me back against the desk. Neither one of us speaks. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost all ability to from this.
So that was what I had denied myself all these years?
That’s what every one of my friends enjoyed while I spent my days and nights working and studying? It was worth it. Every minute I sacrificed saved me for Zach. I wouldn’t trade a moment. Not for him.
Zach moves over me, brushing my hair back out of my face. The way his eyes watch me warms a piece of my soul. The adoration I see there, the incandescent devotion, tugs at my heart.
I’m falling in love with him.
This is dangerous.
I hadn’t expected to feel this way about him, to fall so desperately for him despite how far out of my reach he is. We agreed to make this work, didn’t we? We agreed to more than one night of passion. Or was this to be it? Get this attraction between us out of our systems, so we can move on with our lives.
