He easily leans over to grab two mini bottles of vodka and some glasses. Placing them on the table, I concentrate on his fingers manipulating the caps, to disguise my rapid heartbeat from the joy that he’s in my room. It’s my only attempt to play hard to get, because from the time I entered puberty, I sucked at the whole hair twisting come and get me act most girls are born with.
Our finger tips brush along the other’s as he pushes the filled glass in my direction. “Thank you,” I mumble, continuing to focus on anything but his eyes. They have magic powers that I haven’t figured out how to turn away from yet.
“So, those are your friends?” he asks and my teeth nibble on the inside flesh of my cheek. I’m embarrassed for the fact he had to get in the middle of a fight at a nice resort.
“I work with Libby and Wes. Camden was Libby’s boyfriend—until about an hour ago,” I confess, wishing my hand wasn’t so shaky as I bring the glass to my lips. The minute the burn of the alcohol hits my throat, a cough desperately wants to escape, but miraculously I hold it in.
“Here.” Zach takes the drink from my grips and reaches back over to the mini bar, pulling out a can of cranberry juice, instantly turning my clear liquid to red. I swear this man can read my face like no one before, even my mother. I’m just not a pure alcohol drinker; I left those days back in college. Which Nate always boohooed. Always said I got slutty when I drank too much and he had to keep me in control.
“Thanks.” I take a sip and this time when I swallow, my gag reflexes don’t kick in.
“Better?” he asks, taking a hefty gulp of his own.
“Yes,” I answer.
“So, you and your co-workers sure know how to make a spectacle of yourselves,” he says, but humor is wrapped around his statement.
“I really am sorry. Camden shouldn’t have come up here.” For the first time, my eyes meet his and I lose my train of thought for a moment when the blues show his amusement to the situation.
“Awe, I’m pretty sure if you were my girl, I’d come up here to get you back.” The one side of his lips turn up and my shoulders deflate in want for him.
“I’m not Camden’s girl,” I remark, cocking my head to the side.
“I know, he should thank God for that,” he comes back with, and I tuck my lips into my mouth to dislodge the smile that’s struggling to sneak out. “Marisa, I’m not going to sit here and deny how much you intrigue me.” He leans back, taking another sip of his drink and casually rests his ankle across his knee.
Every drop of saliva dissolves in my mouth, rendering me completely speechless from his affirmation. “Oh,” stupidly slips out and his grin widens showing off those perfect white teeth.
“So you’re going to leave me hanging?”
“No—I mean—I want you too—shit—wait,” I stutter, the thoughts streaming through my brain without filtering them out before my mouth communicates them. The embarrassment of what I’ve admitted, developing a flush of pure red that travels my whole body.
Laughing, Zach straightens his posture and leans forward to me. “So, you don’t want me?” He lowers his voice an octave, in a low syrupy take me now before I pass out version.
“I didn’t say that.” I uncross and then cross my legs again, nervous to where he is taking this conversation. Not that I wouldn’t immensely mind Zach shoving his tongue down my throat to shut me up right about now.
He cocks his head and a clicking noise escapes his mouth. “You kind of did.” He arches his eyebrows and I sulk into my seat from embarrassment. “But.” He inches even closer and my breathing picks up. “I liked it … a lot.” He stands up and walks to the door.
When I stay seated, he turns around. “Walk me to the door.” He tosses his head in the direction and his wavy strands fall slightly and then bounce back in place. My body instantly bolts up like a dog to his master. Damn, cool it down. Once I’m only inches away, my stomach somersaults with thoughts of how he kisses. Is he soft and tender, or hard and demanding, or better yet a mixture of both? “I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night. Right here.” He points to the floor and I nod, biting my lip like the obedient dog I’ve become.
“That girl—” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.
“No one. I told you, Marisa. There’s no one in King’s Gate or elsewhere that has my interest. It’s only you.” Leaving more unanswered questions about who Zach Greer is and what he does.
His blue eyes stare into mine and an imaginary wire snaps and crackles with the amount of tension we won’t relieve. I barely blink before Zach’s hand clasps onto my hip, yanking me forward. Falling into his arms, his lips demand mine and my fingers fly up to his neckline, anchoring my wilting body against his firm muscular one. His lips press along mine until I open a sliver, allowing his tongue to mingle with mine. He maneuvers his tongue like a slow waltz, taking a gentle flow with mine while his lips press more urgently. In one taste, no words are needed to explain how much electricity sparks between us. Just as my body relaxes to what Zach is doing, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m not sure I can walk out that door,” he admits, those dimples appearing.
“Then don’t,” I reply, not debating my decision. I moved here to not be the good one I’ve always been labeled. I want Zach, and I’m not going to deny myself.
His eyes waver on mine, and I see his mind working way more than it should. Just when I think he’s about to walk out the door, he says, “Fuck it.” Grabbing my cheeks, he raises my head to his and claims my lips again, but not cautious like before. He demands mine to connect and sparks ignite as soon as our bodies are pressed against one another. Thrusting his tongue in my mouth, I graze mine with his, mixing his with mine, developing a dance all of our own. God, I want to stay wrapped in this man’s strong hold for as long as he’ll let me. He starts walking and I quickly back step staying in sync with him, until my legs feel the bed pressed against them. We silently stand there at the edge of the bed, and as I step into his chest a little more, his breathing hitches. I’m about to lean back, but his hands leave the gentleness of my cheeks and plant on my hips. The strength of his grip has my skin itching for him to take control. Holding me firm, he closes our kiss and his lips sprinkle along my jawbone. Once he’s at my ear, he whispers, “You have no idea how tempting you are.” His words alone have me tightening my legs together. “If we aren’t going to wait, then I at least have to pace myself.” He inches back and I smile, noticing his smirk. My teeth find my bottom lip again and he grabs the hem of my shirt, inching up my torso as shivers follow his fingertips grazing my bare skin. “Raise your arms, Marisa,” he instructs, and instantly my arms fly up, almost hitting him in the face. Seriously, why can’t I be all seductive and smooth?
He chuckles, which in turn makes me flush from the embarrassment. Then his eyes widen, and although I have the desire to wrap my arms around myself and cup my breasts from his vision, I don’t. The appreciative expression on his face helps me to keep them at my side. “You’re beautiful.” His fingers graze along the sides of my ribs, inching closer to the underline of my breasts. I concentrate on keeping my body steady when all I want is to grab his hands and place them on my breasts. Already reeling that those fingertips could do magical things to my nipples. But I take a deep breath instead and try to enjoy the anticipation of Zach’s hands on me for the first time, praying it won’t be the last.
Painstakingly slow, Zach brushes along the underline of my breasts with his fingers until they reach the swell of the top. Cupping them simultaneously with his large hands, his thumbs find my nipples, they pebble even more. Wishing like hell I was laying down, because with the heat streaming through my body, I feel like I could pass out. His head dips down to my neck, licking and sucking at my skin. My hands massage the back of his hairline, informing him he’s doing everything right because I want to keep him there. “Lay down,” he whispers and I oblige allowing access to nip at my collarbone. His fingers leave my breasts and hook in my yoga pants, star
ting to pull them down over my legs. Arching my ass up so he can free me from them, his nails scrap against my thighs while his eyes burn with desire for me. Those visceral eyes could be the cause of me unleashing on him, because they only make me wetter.
After I’m completely naked for his viewing, he stands above me, admiring the view. My flesh rises with awareness of his eagerness to have me. Those blue eyes rake my body as though he’s a starved man and I’m his next meal—it’s animalistic and I love it. The fact my bare body could bring this primitive expression across a man’s face enlightens me more than it should. Shouldn’t I be one of those independent females that takes charge, tosses him on the bed and straddles him? Instead, I’m completely fine with his alpha abilities to manipulate me anyway he wants, as long as his eyes never lose that desire for me.
Zach flings his shirt over his head and starts kicking his shoes off while his fingers begin to undue his pants. My breath hitches when he drops his jeans down to the floor and he’s left in his black boxer briefs for my viewing pleasure. I’ve never encountered such a beautiful yet masculine man before. His soft features mixed with hard muscles make him perfection in my eyes. Having him as mine, to touch whenever I want, swarms my mind before remembering he isn’t mine. Maybe if I was a little spunkier like Mya, or had the creativity of Mikaela, I would be interesting enough to snatch him up, but sadly, I’m the boring one.
A stream of my breath releases when he begins crawling up the bed, his two dimples so deep from the smile on his face, I want to lick them. Bending down, he begins to cast kisses on my stomach, sprinkling moistness to my skin as he closes the distance and moves his lips further up my neck. Claiming my mouth with his, I match his craving pace as our hands begin exploring one another, igniting a heat so hot in my core. His toned body circles on top of me and he locks my hands in place above my head, disabling me from moving. “I want to take this slow Marisa, but damn, you make it hard.” Then my body feels cold when he stands up and digs into his pocket. Trying to reach down inside of myself and be different, I sit up and take the condom from his fingers. A small smirk of appreciation crosses his face as he watches me open it and roll it down his thickness. My heart is beating so fast, hoping this is as erotic as I’m envisioning it.
My reward comes when I crawl backward up the bed and he stalks up every inch of my body. I can’t gasp a breath before he’s slowly moving to get inside of me. Gently pushing into me at a painfully minuscule pace, until I’m completely wrapped around him. Leaning down on my body, he’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms on either side of my head. “You’re an amorous woman, Marisa.” His moist lips slam into mine as he circles around inside of me, and when he starts thrusting into me, I can’t help the moans of pleasure pouring out of my mouth. Zach surprises me more because I kind of figured he’d have me on my hands and knees, slamming into me over and over again. But again, this man that I barely know wins me over. As his lips leisurely kiss my neck and I hear the faint groans and moans escaping him, my heart flutters with the thoughts of is this man my one? The one that could steal my heart? And if he is, I pray he won’t break it. I’m not sure how many more shatters my heart can take before it’s beyond repair.
MY ALARM BLARES THROUGH THE dark room and I squint my eyes at the glowing blue lights stating it’s six-thirty in the morning. “Crap,” I mumble and roll over where my arm finds an empty spot next to me. Quickly scooting up, I reach over and fumble to find the light switch. I squint from the brightness of the lights that immediately fills the room. My stomach plummets and I pull my legs up to my chest as I zero in on the disheveled sheets next to me. Picking up the pillow, I smell the scent of Zach’s cologne, the only evidence that last night wasn’t a made-up fantasy in my head. Memories of his gentle hands exploring my body, leaving shivers in the wake of his touch come to the forefront. The romantic words he whispered along every inch of my body with each kiss. Taking his time with me, slow and tender until the very end. Then a half hour later, showing me his alpha side I already knew he possessed. Unable to hold himself back, grabbing my ass with his strong hands and prying my legs open for his taking. The image of my legs spread open and his sweaty body slicking along mine as he spouted explicit ways he would take my body ring in my head, igniting a pool of moisture between my legs again. Both his smooth technical and animalistic sides are ones I’ve never experienced by anyone before. I hate to admit it, but I only crave more of him because of it.
I was so spent after our last time, I’m positive I collapsed asleep immediately. Zach pulled me on top of him, wrapping me in his warm embrace. My dark hair lay on top of his hard chest and I honestly thought nothing could be better than his fingers absentmindedly running through my hair while I’m tight in his arms. How do we go from that to me waking up in an empty bed? Shaking my head, I refuse to release the tears pricking behind my eyes, while my throat constricts to hold it together. I thought Zach was different and his mannerisms gave the false pretense he cared for me. As usual, I put trust into someone, just for them to hurt me. That usual feeling of worthlessness washes to the forefront. Nate’s words sting me again. “No one will ever want you. You’re lucky you have me.” The two conflicting worlds of Nate’s words and Zach’s actions from last night whirl around in a tornado, mixed together, making me more confused. Was I just a one-night thing with Zach? I wasn’t expecting a long term relationship, well, I can’t say my mind never veered that way. But I at least expected a breakfast in the slightest as a thank you for handing over my body.
My phone rings, and the shock of the loud noise in a quiet room startles me. Scrambling to answer, it muddles in my hands before I can get a good grip. “Hello,” I quietly answer, even though there’s no one to wake up.
“Just wanted to make sure you were up.” Libby’s voice rings over the other end, too loud for the morning hour.
“I’m up.” I stand up, maneuvering to the bathroom.
“Well, after all those noises last night, I figured I better check. You’d think an animal was being trapped from your shrills.” She laughs and I hear a masculine laugh in the background.
“Who’s with you, Libby?” Her laughter stops and the line silences. “Libby,” I demand.
“Wes.” I can almost picture her scooting her glasses up her nose in a scared response. I’m half relieved it wasn’t Camden. I couldn’t even count how many times I stupidly went back to Nate after fights we had similar to last night. Of course, I wasn’t sleeping with my co-worker either.
“Oh, just so you know, we aren’t done talking about that,” I remind her, and a little giggle escapes. I’m not sure if it’s from my comment or that Wes is doing something to her, which makes me grossed out and a little jealous.
“I didn’t think so, but I didn’t think you’d want to be interrupted from your pleasure last night. Sorry if I woke up Mr. Alaska.”
“He’s not here,” I solemnly inform her and her breath releases on the other end of the phone.
“Why the hell not?” That cheery girl turns angry.
“I’m not sure,” I honestly tell her. Libby’s the closest friend I’ve got here and with the distance between my sisters, I need someone right now.
“Oh, Marisa. I’m sorry,” her concerned voice says. “Me and you tonight. No guys, okay?” I hear Wes’s protests in the background and Libby whispering for him to stop.
“That’s okay, Lib, I’ll survive. I’m going to go get ready. See you in an hour.” I hang up because I don’t want to continue this conversation when I know she’d rather be with Wes.
After the shower, I don’t bother doing my hair, but pull it to the side and braid it so it hangs over my shoulder. Putting on a pair of jeans, a sweater plus a jacket, I wonder how anyone could look appealing in Alaska. The only amount of skin that shows is my face and once I’m outside, that will be covered up as well. Maybe that’s why Zach said all those nice things to me last night; it isn’t often he sees bare skin. Quickly debating that, I shake it from my head.
A man like Zach probably sees and handles more skin than I do paperwork at Henbrook.
By the time I arrive downstairs, it’s only me and Pete. He grabs coffee for both of us and sits down on the couch with me. “Hi,” he says and the hurt in his eyes as clear as the water that fills the glacier lake. Obviously, since Libby heard me and Zach last night, Pete probably did, too. It’s not even just embarrassment that comes over me, but regret now. Shows I shouldn’t venture out of my two-by-two good girl box … look at my track record.
“Hi. Thank you.” I blow on the coffee and watch the steam rise out of the cup, concentrating on anything but Pete.
“You’re welcome,” he responds and we sit there in silence for a few minutes. “So, are Wes and Libby, like together, together?” he asks and I giggle from the adolescent meaning of his words. Thankfully, he does too, breaking the tension.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I look over to him and we share a smile.
“Co-workers in a relationship? Never would have guessed those two.”
“Me either.”
“How long have you known?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, growing more comfortable with the awkward situation.
“I’ve suspected since we got here, but confirmed last night when Camden showed up.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yep.” I nod and his head shakes back and forth.
“I guess I missed some crazy shit last night.” He takes a sip of his coffee.
“You did. Where were you?” I ask, because usually Pete is in the thick of drama, but last night I didn’t see him once.
He glances over to me and waits a few seconds before answering. “I’ve kind of been talking a little to this girl from back home. You know we reconnected through Facebook and stuff.” He shoves it off as though it’s nothing, but it peaks my curiosity. If he’s been talking with another girl, I’m embarrassed to think I’ve misunderstood all his touches and chivalrous actions. Maybe Pete’s just a nice guy, and since I’m used to being with assholes, I couldn’t tell the difference.
Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets) Page 7
