That same night, I ask Zach, and he assures me it’s been handled. There won’t be any blowback on him or me. I don’t know how that’s possible, and I don’t want to know. He obviously knows how to handle himself … and other things. It’s something that makes me feel protected when he’s with me and nervous about him when he’s not.
He’s with me often.
Over the next few weeks, Zach steps up. Just not in the way I hoped. He’s my bodyguard. My shadow. I’d even call him my friend. He meets me at my dorm before work and follows me in his car. After a couple of times, I gave in, and now he just drives me to The Tavern. He walks me inside and sits at my station now, and I serve him drinks. He always waits for me to get off work and escorts me to his truck, his hand warm and sure on my back, setting off fireworks everywhere in my body.
I want him to make a move, but he never does.
Does he not want me? It’s easy to think that’s the reason, but I see how he looks at me, like he wants to devour me. At this point, I wouldn’t say no.
I sigh and bend to retie my sneaker.
“What’s wrong?” Callie asks. “You seem distracted and down tonight.”
Am I that transparent? I lean against the bar. It’s halfway through the night. I have hours to go, and I’m feeling frustrated with him and with myself. “I don’t understand what’s going on with him.” I refuse to look over at Zach. Callie will know who I mean.
“Problems with your shadow?” she asks.
“Why does he do that? Hang around and not make a move?”
She shrugs, but her perceptive gaze rakes over me. “Maybe you and your sweet self intimidate him?”
I blow out an annoyed puff of air. “Why do you say that?”
“You can’t change who you are. Not even a sex tape can take away from who you are deep inside.” She wraps an arm around me in a brief hug. “It’s not a bad thing,” she assures me.
“Then why does it feel like one right now?”
“Because you want him. Which means you’re going to have to make the first move.” She waggles her eyebrows and makes me smile. “Trust me, he’s not going to turn you down.”
“Ladies, get back to work!” Tank yells from across the bar.
Callie winks at me. “You can do it.”
Nerves churn inside me at the prospect of taking Callie’s advice, but I will. I’m so primed and ready from being around him all the time that I’m surprised my lips haven’t found his by now.
The good news is the next few hours fly quickly because I now have a plan. I’m finally finished, but I pause in the bathroom to freshen up before I head out. Just in case things go the way I want them to.
I step into the darkened bar. Tank has shut off the front lights.
“Ready, Princess?” Zach asks.
I’ve grown used to the nickname, and I like the sound rolling off his lips. I collect my bag and nod, and we walk out the rear exit, his hand against my back. I try not to shiver, to read too much into the now-familiar touch.
“You don’t need to do this every night. I’m pretty sure you made your point and nobody will bother me again.”
I want him to at least admit there’s something more between us before I make a complete fool of myself. My hands are sweaty, and I wipe them together as I wait for his reply.
“I thought we talked about this already. I want to,” he says as we reach his truck.
I turn to face him. I can’t rise onto my tiptoes to get closer to him without my intentions being obvious. Still. I lean into him. “Why?” I ask.
He looks startled. “Why what?”
“Why do you want to? Because you feel sorry for me? Because I don’t need to be your charity case.”
He frowns. “Where is this coming from?”
I sputter with frustration. “Where did you come from?” I challenge right back. “One day you’re here at the bar. A few weeks later, you save me. And after that, you’re my constant companion. I keep asking what your deal is, and you give me all these compliments. So either you’re in desperate need of a friend or—” I gather every ounce of courage I possess.
“Or what?” he asks, his tone dangerous.
“Or you want me.”
His eyes narrow. His cheekbones pull tight. “You’re the one pushing me,” he says. “Unbelievable.”
I straighten my shoulders and meet him head on. “Well, someone has to make a move. I can’t do this anymore. Either you’re in or you’re—”
He cuts me off by pressing his mouth against mine. Pretty darned effective if you ask me. I’m stunned, and then I’m just in the moment. His lips are warm, his taste minty. He’s gentler than I would expect as his lips move over mine. Soft and supple, he’s tasting me and it’s heaven.
Every time I inhale, I breathe him in, and it’s delicious. He’s delicious, but he’s still hesitant, and I can’t imagine why. I dart my tongue out and lick the seam of his lips.
With a groan, he picks me up, and suddenly my back is against the truck, his big, hard body pressing into mine. Warmth that has nothing to do with the summer air rushes through me. This is what I’ve wanted. What I’ve been waiting for. The kiss turns possessive. A tug on my hair tilts my head and positions my mouth so he can dive in. And he does. His tongue thrusts against mine, learns the deep recesses of my mouth. I’m trembling and grab onto his shoulders to steady me.
Touching the muscles in his upper back reminds me there’s more for me to explore. While he devours my mouth, I let my hands roam over him, up his neck, and into his hair. It’s like silk, and I love the feel of the golden strands sliding along my fingertips.
He nips at my lips, and I feel the sensation in my breasts and between my thighs. My hips buck against him, and I’m needy in ways I’ve never experienced. My sex feels swollen and wanting. Now I understand what it means to feel empty and to want more.
I shake and tremble, my hips grinding against him, seeking relief.
“Easy,” he says as if he knows what I’m feeling. His hand strokes my cheek to calm me.
Not possible when I need him so badly. I reach down and cup his thick erection in my hand.
He lets out a sexy groan. “You do crazy things to me.”
“Yeah, well, you sure managed to hide it.”
He hikes my skirt and slides his hand between us. His fingers begin to stroke me through my damp panties.
Oh God. I arch into his touch.
“You’re wet for me,” he says, sounding pleased.
I whimper as he moves his hand around. “Want me to take the edge off?” Without waiting for a reply, he begins to circle my sex with the heel of his hand.
Sensations spark brighter inside me, and I’m shaking against him. I know the explosion is coming, and I want it more than anything. A small part of me realizes we’re in a parking lot, but it’s dark. Nobody else is around. And the way I’m feeling, with how close I am, I wouldn’t care if we had an audience as long as he makes me come.
I hear a high-pitched moan and realize it came from me. I bite my cheek and press my face into his shoulder. He doesn’t let up the insane rotation of his hand. He’s working me perfectly, and I’m rocking against him. I’m wet, feel myself getting wetter.
“God, Princess, you feel good. So hot.”
“For you,” I manage to say, but my mouth is against his warm neck, and I mumble.
He lets out the male rumble. “That feels good. Bite me there.”
I’m stunned. I’m so close to coming I’m near tears at the intensity of sensations flying through me. And maybe some emotions too.
“Do it,” he says, his hand still swirling around my sex.
Oh God. I press my mouth against the side of his neck and brush his skin with my teeth. And when he gives one final thrust of his hand, I shatter, pulling at his hair, as bright flashes of light hit behind my eyes and my entire body soars.
I’m out of breath, and I don’t know how much time passes before I’m ready to look at him.
/> Finally I pull my face from the crook of his shoulder and meet his gaze.
“Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells me with a grin. His eyes are molten on mine.
I duck my chin down. I’m not a sex goddess, contrary to what that tape implies, and this isn’t normal behavior for me. Now that the deep need has passed, I’m embarrassed.
“Hey. Look at me.” He turns my chin with his hand. “That was awesome.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He grins.
Just like that, I’m back with him again. “So why didn’t you go for it sooner?” I ask.
He tips his head back, and a full-blown laugh I don’t think I’ve heard before rumbles through him. I like the sound.
“How about we just go with what’s happening now?” he suggests.
“And what is that?” What happens after a guy makes a girl come apart in the parking lot? I wonder.
“Up to you. My place is in Queens. Not far by car.”
I blow out a breath of relief. “Okay.”
He doesn’t wait for more. He lifts me up so I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist, and he walks around to the passenger side of his truck. Next thing I know, I’m settled into the seat, buckled in, and we’re on our way.
He doesn’t give me time for nerves to kick in. He immediately reaches for my hand and settles it onto his thigh as he drives. It’s possessive and hot, and too many emotions ride through me.
I remind myself not to read more into tonight than hot sex, but it’s hard given how attentive he’s been over the last few weeks. Why would a guy invest so much time and energy into me if there weren’t something meaningful there? If it was just sex he wanted, he could have gone after it weeks ago.
As for me, yeah, this is happening fast. And maybe I have sworn off men. But he’s not just any man. My heart seems to know him. And if I seem too trusting, well, I’m going with my heart. It’s never felt this way before.
He drives uptown and through the Midtown Tunnel. We’re in Queens, not a borough I know well. Soon he pulls up to a small house in what appears to be a fairly decent area.
I’m surprised he’s in a house, not an apartment. “Have you lived here long?” I ask.
“My grandfather owned the place for years. He left it to me when he died a couple of years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Life.”
“Yeah,” I say, not sure how else to acknowledge that sad bit of truth.
He helps me out of the truck and guides me to the front door. “This is it.” He opens the locks with his set of keys and lets us inside.
He flips on lights, and I take in the small house. There’s an entryway and a den with a big-screen television. To one side is a pass-through kitchen.
He tosses his keys onto a table in the den. There’s not much in the way of décor. A leather couch, a table with papers spread all over. A bookshelf lined with mysteries.
I notice a photograph in front of the books and step over for a closer look. In a four-by-six frame, there’s a picture of a woman about my age, her hair about the same color as Zach’s. She has a wide grin on her pretty face, her arm around a younger Zach as he glares for the camera. They look too much alike not to be related.
I feel him come up behind me, his body emanating heat at my back. He clasps my forearms in his hands.
“Your sister?” I ask.
“Yeah. That’s Grace.”
“She’s beautiful.”
His fingertips tighten against my skin. “She was.”
I swallow hard. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Stunning silence surrounds us, and I sense his tension reverberating from inside him. “You don’t need to tell me.”
“We didn’t grow up with much money, but we did have loving parents.”
I’m immediately struck by how opposite our lives have been. I grew up with money but no love. Zach had love but no money. I’d take his situation any day.
“Mom died of cancer when I was sixteen,” he said. “Grace was eighteen.”
He doesn’t turn toward me, and I think that maybe it’s easier for him to open up without facing me. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Thanks.” He pauses before continuing. “Dad was a plumber, and he sort of drifted after that. He retired early. He didn’t have much saved and ended up in Florida. Grace went to school on loans. I held down part-time jobs until I graduated high school, then went to college the same way, on loans and scholarship.”
I wait, knowing the worst is yet to come.
“Problem was, Grace didn’t come to me when she needed money. Instead, she started working as a call girl, for a woman named Miss Black.”
I blinked, startled. I try to turn around, but he anticipates the move and holds me in place, his hands on my shoulders. I’m right. It’s easier to talk without looking at me. I allow him this.
“Go on.” I don’t judge his sister. It’s not my place. I just listen. I mean, who knows what I’d do or who I’d turn to if my parents cut me off completely.
He exhales long and hard. “Obviously I didn’t know, or I’d have stopped her. She told me she was working as a hostess. I was so busy with getting my PI license and trying to take care of myself, I just believed her.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “What happened?”
“He— I mean, a client happened.”
Now Zach’s fingers bite into my forearms. I wince from the pain, but I want to know the story, not interrupt and remind him that he really doesn’t want to share.
“The son of a bitch liked to find a girl’s weak spot, play into it, and fuck her until she was screaming in panic and fear.”
I almost gag. “That’s awful.”
“Grace went missing for a while, and that’s the first time I really used my PI license. When I found her, she was wandering the streets, almost completely nonresponsive. Dad came up from Florida, and we put her in a mental hospital. South Oaks.”
I close my eyes at the pain lingering in his voice.
“Luckily my grandfather left a small inheritance, and between that and what I can add, it helps keep her there.”
“You’re a good man. A good brother.” I spin around before he can stop me. “Thank you for sharing.” I cup his cheek in my hand, go up to my tiptoes, and kiss his lips softly.
I mean to comfort.
He needs more and grabs my wrist, pulling me to an open door. We’re in his bedroom. He doesn’t bother with the light, just lifts me onto the bed and comes down over me. “You still want this?” he asks roughly.
He wants to forget. It’s so obvious he’s looking to annihilate the pain and lose himself in sex. Too bad I already know what’s between us is more than that, and I believe he knows it too.
I nod, though I’m trembling. “Yes. I want you.”
He stills above me as if that’s the last thing he expects to hear. I lift my shirt and pull it over my head and toss it to the floor.
His gaze falls on my exposed breasts. I’m wearing the bra that makes the girls extra perky, and he notices, nodding appreciatively.
He leans over and switches on the bedside lamp. “I need to see you.”
I smile. “Works both ways. I want to see you too.” I tug playfully on the hem of his tee shirt.
The darkness is slowly leaving him, and I want to keep him here. With me.
He takes the hint and removes his shirt, throwing it onto the floor with mine. I imagined him naked. I didn’t even come close to the reality.
His chest is bronze, tanned from the sun. His abdomen is flat but for the well-defined muscles that only come from working out. A light dusting of hair sprinkles his upper body, and I reach for him, splaying my palm across his chest. His skin is hot, and he groans at my touch.
“Skirt off,” he says, shifting off me, giving me room.
My eyes never leave his as I unsnap and work the skirt down my thighs. My panties are drenched. It’s em
barrassing and surprising at once. My ex had to work hard at getting past the awkwardness, and it still hurt. Now? I can’t wait to feel Zach glide inside me. I moan at my thoughts.
“Sex sounds.” He shakes his head and grins.
“Right time and place this time.” I bat my eyelashes.
His deep laugh makes me feel good, and I know I’ve totally distracted him.
His gaze rakes over me and falls to my skimpy bikinis. “I’m sorry. Did I forget to say get naked?” he asks, his voice rough and gravelly.
I immediately wriggle off the tiny scrap of fabric.
He looks down and sucks in a deep breath. “I knew you were bare, but look at you.”
My cheeks heat. He’s more vocal than I expected, and he says things that make my body burn. This isn’t easy for me despite how much I want him.
“What’s wrong? Not used to sex talk, Princess?”
I shake my head. “Did I mention there’s only been one guy and he basically screwed me over afterwards? I swore off men. And then I met you.” I find myself baring my soul.
Kinda fits since I’ve bared my body.
At my words, his gaze darkens, and I think he likes what he’s hearing. I’ll only admit so much right now. I don’t want to talk about the sex tape. One day I’ll confide in him, but for now I don’t want to bring that ugliness between us. Still, I think he should know he’s not getting an experienced woman.
“I don’t want experienced, Chloe. I want you.”
“That’s good.” I reach up and thread my fingers through his. “Because you make me want to try and trust again.”
He lets out a strangled sound, leans down, and seals his lips over mine. He kisses me possessively, as if he likes my revelations and what they mean for him. Unable to resist anything about him, I kiss him back. Our tongues tangle, lips mesh, and I’m immersed in everything that is Zach — until he breaks free.
He rises and immediately strips off his jeans, taking his boxer briefs with him. “See? Implied.” He winks and climbs back on the bed, his muscular body gliding over mine and settling in.
Sensations bombard me as his thick erection pulses against my sex. The roughened hair on his chest grates against my nipples, causing a delicious kind of friction that is unbelievably arousing. But when he dips his head and touches his nose to mine, the sweet gesture unravels me. I want him to own me, to possess me. And when his lips cover mine, he does, kissing me thoroughly, as if I mean something to him. As if I mean everything. I’m so lost I can barely summon the will to warn my galloping emotions to slow down.
The Arrangement: The Seduction (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4
