by K. K. Allen
Zach is officially courting me. He actually used those words. And while I want to rip his clothes off every time he kisses me, I let him lead. It’s been all over-the-clothes hand-grabbing with a little slip of the tongue. Nothing more, and I’m starting to go crazy.
Who would have thought the freaking single hottest man to grace planet Earth would rather spend his time getting to know me when we could easily be doing other things?
It’s not like me to let a man take things this far. One date is usually enough. To go on multiple dates means getting to know someone, and getting to know someone means that you develop feelings for them. I’ve never wanted the feelings attached to sex before, but with Zach, it’s already too late.
I’m not exactly sure when he wormed his way into my heart, but he did, and now I’m suffering the consequences. Sexually frustrated Monica will get what she wants soon. Even if she—I—have to take control.
It’s Tuesday and we’re on our fourth date. Each night it’s been something different. A shared pizza and a walk around Alkai. Takeout on the beach at Golden Gardens Park. Private nighttime access to the zoo. And tonight, we agreed to ride the Wheel, eat a light dinner, and then get dessert.
What I didn’t realize was that we were going to get dessert at Zach’s place. I’m totally fine with it, but he’s only ever come to my apartment, so this feels different.
Part of me is curious to know how he lives, but the other part enjoys the comfort of owning the space I’m in with Zach. There’s that control thing again. I’m starting to realize I might need to learn how to let go if I’m truly going to move forward with my life.
“Home sweet home.” He grins as he parks and opens his door. I smile back, a swarm of flutters taking over my insides.
He’s at my side of the Jeep in seconds, opening it and helping me out. This is Zach. The guy who refuses to let me open my own door or carry my own bags. I may be independent, but I certainly won’t complain when a man wants to treat me right. I like that he’s consistent with his actions and follows through on his words. It makes him trustworthy.
Taking the elevator to the top floor, I’m supremely aware of how different our worlds are. I’ve felt none of that until this moment. Nothing about Zach screams that there’s a divide at all, and I don’t think it has anything to do with having a former NFL player as a father. Zach is as down to earth and as real as any guy can get.
This doesn’t have to be weird.
The elevator opens directly into an open view of his immaculate home. Spacious and bare, just as expected. White walls with some framed art, but nothing that tells me anything more about Zach than I already know. It’s the opposite of my home, which causes me to laugh before I can stop myself.
Zach interlocks his fingers with mine and squeezes, a smile on his face. “I love your laugh.”
And just that right there is the kind of thing that lassos my heart, giving me no choice but to surrender. I put up a good fight. Now it’s time to see what happens.
He pours two glasses of wine. By now, he knows what I like so he doesn’t need to ask. He even drops in two cubes of ice because I prefer my pinot a little watered down.
“Are you going to give me a tour?”
I love the smile he’s wearing now. It carries a hint of shyness, a little pride, and a whole lot of sexy. He hands me my wine and leads me from room to room. Everything is spotless, which doesn’t surprise me at all. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a study, a gym, and a living room later, the tour is complete. The only decoration besides some Seattle skyline paintings on the walls are the classic football photos, framed famous quotes from athletes, and a collection of family photos at the end of the hall. That’s where I stop and take my time while Zach runs to the bathroom.
Now that I’m seeing Zach and his brother side-by-side, I’m amazed at the resemblance. His brother has the same strong, oval-shaped face, big blue eyes, and prominent nose. His hair is the same light brown, but it’s shorter. The biggest difference is in their heights and builds. Zach’s got maybe an inch more of height, while his brother’s build is wider. Otherwise, they could be mistaken as twins.
“What’cha looking at, Cakes?”
I hold up the photo of his brother. “You two must have been quite the issue for your mom.”
Zach’s lip curls at one corner. “Oh no, not me. I was the angel. Ryan was the little ladies’ man.”
“Wait a second.” This is the first time Zach’s mentioned his name. “Ryan?”
“Yup,” he says, almost sourly.
I burst into laughter, unable to help it. “Ryan Ryan?” How did I miss that?
Zach takes the picture and plops it back on the stand. “Yeah, well, he’ll be the last one laughing when his fame skyrockets because of that name.”
“True. He’ll be hard to ignore.”
I scan the rest of the photos, spending extra time on the one of his entire family. Zach must be fifteen or so, his brother around thirteen, and they’re standing in front of the restaurant with giant smiles.
“That’s my favorite,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. Something tells me his hold is more to comfort him than to embrace me. “That was three months before the accident.”
“I’m sorry, Zach.” I’ll never stop apologizing for the way his dad died. How awful it must be to live with that every day. To know that part of you is gone from this world and never coming back.
I set that photo down when another catches my eye. It’s a different family, but Zach, Ryan, and their mother stand proudly with the group.
“That’s Coach Reynolds,” he says fondly.
“I recognize him.” I smile. “You two seem close.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well, he did save my life.”
Zach’s arms leave my waist, and I feel abandoned the moment they do. It’s as if he’s already become a part of me, and that’s terrifying. Based on how much that simple gesture just affected me, I can’t imagine what would happen if his absence is ever permanent.
“Coach Reynolds was my high school coach, too. Kind of cool if you think about it. He gave me a family then, and he’s giving me one now. Same goes for Sandy. With my mom and bro still in Texas, it can get pretty lonely.”
Zach has been upfront about his family and the support he’s gotten from his coach, but I guess I wasn’t expecting to get this close to it all. I look through the rest of the photos, trying to find something to steer the conversation to something lighter.
“Where are all your football awards? Besides this, there’s zero personality here. I’m disappointed in you, Zach,” I tease. “You finally let me into your world, and it’s boring as hell.”
He chuckles and walks me down the hall and onto the balcony. “Sorry to disappoint. I had someone come in here and decorate for me, and I haven’t touched a thing. I haven’t even unpacked completely. I don’t see myself living here forever, and since I’m rarely here, I’ve left it as is. The place is a little big for me, but I bought it because of the view.”
I turn to see what he’s referencing, and the view smacks me in the face. Zach’s condo overlooks the lush landscape of Kerry Park and a wide swath of the metropolitan area. The Space Needle sits off in the distance, prominent against the landscape. It seems relatively quiet in this part of the city as it’s somewhat tucked away.
“Wow,” I gush, setting my glass on the ledge and gripping the rail with both hands. “I’ve never seen Seattle like this.”
His arms encircle my waist again and I’m grateful I decided to wear my hair in a bun tonight. My neck is like a magnet attracting his lips to my skin. He does it now, pressing down on that soft spot that’s become his favorite, making me hum and tip my head to the side as an invitation for more.
“You’re looking at what used to be my favorite view.”
I giggle, already knowing where he’s going with this. “Oh yeah? And your new favorite is standing in front of you?”
He smiles into my neck before kissing it again. “Mhmm.” Those shivers again. “I have something for you.”
My body freezes and he chuckles in response. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to do with cooking. Well, not really.” Placing another kiss on my neck, he pulls away, no longer protecting me from the chill in the air. “Wait right there.”
I turn back to the view of Seattle and wait, knowing this is my chance to redeem myself from the wretched pots and pans disaster that he’ll never let die. This time, I won’t screw up the thank-you.
A small black and red gift bag appears on the rail in front of me. I give Zach a smile over my shoulder before untying the string and pulling the tissue paper away. Inside, I find a small silver-framed photo. There’s a picture of me on the beach at Golden Gardens. Zach and I were snacking on grapes, a heavy blanket over our legs as we looked out at the surf. The wind must have just blown when he snapped the picture. Wisps of dark brown curls wrap around my face, but you can still see my toothy smile. And there’s a poem in the space to the right of me.
Sweet Tooth
Chocolate tresses cascade down your back,
Thick honey and cinnamon reside in your eyes,
Strawberry ice cream flavors your lips,
And you speak with mint bubblegum replies,
You give every piece of your apple pie heart,
And heal with your macaroon touch,
A caramel kindness fills your soul,
And you wonder why I crave you so much.
– L.H. @lhoferpoetry
The night air is cool, but heat radiates around us with intensity. Swiveling to face him, I slide my hands up his chest and hook them over his neck, still holding the frame in one hand and beaming. “I love it, Zach. I didn’t know you were into poetry.”
Zach’s relief is so clear that my guilt simmers all over again. He tilts his head down to touch mine, looking almost embarrassed when he speaks next. “I’ve always loved poetry. Reading it, anyway.”
“Do you write?” I’m remembering something Chloe told me during Super Bowl.
He shakes his head and laughs. “No.” Then his eyes adjust with his next thought. “I copy my favorite poems into a journal and jot down stories to go with them. There’s usually a reason a poem speaks to me. Each one reflects something special in my life.”
I smile. “Did this one make the journal?”
He nods. “It did.”
I look at the frame again. “Who’s L.H.?”
“One of my favorite poets on Instagram. After he posted this, I couldn’t stop thinking about what drew me to you in the first place. Sure, it was the way you ran off like a bandit with that chocolate cake, but it was also the way that you were unashamed about it. I figured if there’s one way to get into that apple pie heart of yours, it’s with food. If this doesn’t tell you how I feel, then nothing will.”
My throat tightens, and there’s a swelling in my heart. “You are the sweetest man.” I know I’m seconds away from letting my emotions spill down my cheeks. I don’t know any way to make it stop other than to lift onto my toes and press my lips to his.
Arms encircle my waist and pull me off the ground as the kiss deepens. When he sets me down a minute later, I’m feeling light and so damn happy.
“Dessert?” I grin.
He winks and pulls me away from the rail, leading me into the kitchen where he lifts me onto the island. “Stay here,” he says huskily.
He retrieves dessert from the refrigerator, a small white box, and sets it on the counter beside me. He doesn’t open it right away. Instead, we sip our wine and chat about all we’ve accomplished in preparation for camp. We can’t help it. The excitement that’s been building and the aggressive planning are all coming to a head, and I’m more than ready to see how everything plays out.
“So you’re going to another school this week?” I ask.
“Yup, tomorrow. They happen to be having an assembly, so the principal thought it would be the perfect time to come in and surprise the kids, hand out flyers for camp, and give out a few free tickets. Oh, and Balko will be with me.”
Balko is Zach’s number one tight end and possibly the cockiest player on the team, but Zach believes he has every right to be that way since he gets work done out on the field.
“Won’t you be with the production crew at the assembly?”
I shake my head. “No, we’re double booked and Richland wants me covering a photoshoot.”
He pouts, making my heart flutter in my chest. “I can stop by your place when you’re done with work,” he suggests. “We can make dinner there.” A smirk accompanies his last sentence. The jokes about me not cooking are endless, but I’ve started to like them.
“Funny. But I can’t tomorrow. Gavin’s out of town again, and Chloe goes a little bit crazy when he’s away. We usually do girl’s night and then she crashes on my couch.”
“Really? Chloe doesn’t seem like the clingy type to me.”
I shrug. “She misses him. It’s not a jealousy thing at all. Those two are rock solid. Anyway, it’s just an excuse for us to watch cheesy old movies and stuff our faces.”
Zach’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Sexy. Aren’t girls supposed to have naked pillow fights and compare their boyfriends when they have sleepovers?”
I choke on my laughter. “Oh trust me, we do a little of that too.” I wink at him, not wanting to state the obvious—that Zach isn’t my boyfriend. At least, we haven’t put a title on what we are yet.
Zach steps between my legs, examining my wrap dress with a wicked smile. “Have I told you how much I love that dress?”
“Only a few billion times tonight.” I grin and look down at the tie holding my dress together. He eyes it like I’m his present. Holy hell. I hope he unwraps me.
There’s a part of me that wants to tell him we’re moving too slow. But at the same time, I’m enjoying this, whatever it is that we’re building. If foreplay were a gymnastics sport, Zach would win. He’s taken his time to carefully execute every move, and it’s all building up to the grand finale.
Geez. The way he’s eyeing me, it’s like he’s planning his dinner and I’m the main course. It’s hot.
“Do I even want to ask what you’re thinking right now?” I ask with a tilt of my head and a grin.
“Probably not.”
I probably do.
He smiles before his mouth finds mine, kissing me softly while he lightly plays with the fabric of my dress. Even with the extra height of the counter, he still hovers over me in the most dominating of stances. I’ve never been one to let a man own me in that way. It’s usually me taking the lead, but everything’s different with Zach—and I love it.
When he steps back, a breeze hits my stomach and I look down to see that he’s undone my dress and the material has fallen open, revealing my carefully selected black and pink lace underwear.
Zach greedily examines every inch of my body with a look so fierce I can feel it low in my belly. And when he zeros in on the lace of my bra, I watch him swallow his excitement before the quietest intake of air passes his lips. It’s sexy as hell coming from the man now sandwiched between my thighs.
His eyes flicker up to meet mine, and they darken ever so slightly. I take a slow, quiet breath, trying like hell to keep my nerves at bay. But the next thing I know, I’m distracted by Zach slowly opening a box next to me. Dessert. “Whatcha got there, Zachary?”
“Just a little something I want to put on you tonight.”
Huh?
He curls his lip at the corner and reveals an assortment of chocolate covered strawberries. They’re all beautiful, but one of them is special. It’s decorated with white icing like the threads of a football. And that’s the one he chooses to place between my lips. I don’t have time to react before he murmurs darkly, “Bite.”
His authoritative tone catches me off guard, and the thrill of excitement races up my spine. There have been
crumbs left along the way revealing a less than gentlemanly side to Zach when it comes to sex. Every now and then he’ll unleash a hint of darkness that only makes me more curious. He’s the perfect contradiction, and my body reacts to all of it.
I bite into the strawberry, eyes rolling into the back of my head, but not from the juices. Zach’s mouth is on my throat, kissing me as I chew, making it almost impossible to swallow. When I do, his mouth moves to mine. This time his kiss is ravenous, yet controlled. His lips are firm and demanding as he steals my breath with every stroke of his tongue.
I’m dizzy with contentment as he bites down on my bottom lip and uses his grip on my thighs to pull me forward. I can feel him now. God, he feels good against me. Even more so when the friction of his movements sends bolts of pleasure through me.
He must have taken the strawberry from me at some point, because it’s on my skin now. Coolness skates over the curve and dip of my breasts. I look down. A watery pink stream has traveled across exposed skin, leaving a sweet and sticky mess behind. The wicked gleam in Zach’s eyes is enough to undo me.
Inch-by-inch, his tongue traces the strawberry’s path, lapping the residue clean from my body. My thighs clench around him as his mouth wanders off path and ends up hovering over my nipple, sucking and biting through the sheer cloth of my bra. “Ah,” I moan, and my hands grip the counter’s edge, loving every movement that causes the bulge in his jeans to glide against my core.
When his eyes flutter up to lock eyes with mine, while never removing the suction of his mouth, I completely melt. Those dangerously beautiful blue eyes that are desperate for my pleasure are also daring. He knows what he’s doing to me, and not just physically. He’s after more than that. He’s after my heart.
The strawberry finds my navel, or his mouth does—I don’t know what happens first, because when his tongue pushes into that spot I can’t hold myself up anymore. My elbows give way. I fall back flush against the island, the movement forcing his mouth lower.
