Zenith Fulfilled (Zenith Trilogy, #3)

by Davis, Leanne

  She unsnapped his jeans, but could hardly get her fingers to cooperate. She was shaking with excited nerves, passion, and undeniable arousal. She could feel him getting hotter and harder against her knuckles. When she pressed her body into his, she heard him draw a breath against her before his body jolted to life.

  “God, you’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled as his mouth came off her, and back to her lips. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be as much into her as she was into him. The shock of that surprised her. So did his language. No one ever said that to her before. She wasn’t entirely sure he was aware he even spoke to her, let alone what he said.

  Then again, she never was intimate with someone like him before, so shocking was probably an understatement. She couldn’t imagine the sexual adventures Rob had probably experienced in his life.

  “Rob?”

  “What?” He barely replied against her skin.

  “Do you have condoms?”

  “’Course,” he said and finally stopped, opening his eyes to look at her. The way he said it, left her feeling stupid; duh, of course, he had condoms. Didn’t all single people who dated nowadays? She didn’t know. Because she never dated. He leaned away from her, long enough for her to feel the cool air over her chest. And notice what she looked like just then. He was rummaging in his nightstand. Of course, they were kept in his nightstand. What was she, an idiot?

  “Damn it,” he muttered, apparently unable to find them as readily as he wanted. He finally had to totally scoot his body away from her and actually look inside the drawer. Eventually, he found a box that was open with the condoms spilling out of it, probably half in the drawer. Open. The damn box was open. How many times had he already used the box?

  She kicked off the rest of her clothing after realizing how stupid she must’ve looked with her clothes still half on. She leaned over to take her socks off, but her hands shook uncontrollably. Who could look sexy with socks on?

  He stood by the side of the bed and she felt his gaze over her.

  “What was it?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking up at him. He stood with his hands on his hips, shirtless, and the top of his jeans undone, but otherwise, fully intact.

  “What made you get so skittish? Was it what I said?”

  “No, of course not. Everything is fine,” she said, looking away. How did one reply to, God, you’re so fucking wet?

  “Fine? Or does that mean you’re suddenly not ready to do this?”

  She didn’t look up. “Seems suddenly, it might be the second option.”

  He was quiet, so she didn’t look up to see his reaction. Then she felt the bed shift as he said, “You don’t like dirty talk.”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never had anyone say it to me.”

  “You know that wasn’t really dirty.” What was he implying now? That it could get a lot more graphic if she wanted that? Is that what he usually did? Dirty pillow talk? Pornographic suggestions? Kinky quirks? She looked up and began rethinking the entire event that she so insisted upon and pushed to happen. She was staring at the box of half empty condoms and he looked at it too. Okay, no. It was the open box of condoms.

  His eyes gleamed, but softened. “Rebecca, I’m not a saint. I sleep with women. But not like you’re thinking now.”

  “I know all your friends.”

  “My friend, as in singular, and whom you so sneer at, is a woman I’ve been seeing for over a year. And only her.”

  “So you’re cheating on her?”

  She felt the bed move and his head shake. “No, it’s not like that either. It’s like, we’re really good friends, and we sleep together sometimes. We don’t date. We’re not in love. We just help each other get through sometimes.”

  “Get through what?”

  “Life, I guess. Loneliness. What you’re going through now. Human intimacy that’s not faceless. Sobriety.”

  “Is she an alcoholic too?”

  “Yeah, that’s how we first hooked up.”

  She finally glanced his way and saw he was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

  “You know how I always accuse you of being such a mother figure and saying we have nothing in common?”

  “Of course, I know how you think of me.”

  “Well… the thing is, just now, you weren’t. It came as quite a surprise to me.”

  She frowned while considering what he meant. She surprised him? Intrigued, she finally moved closer. “In what way?”

  “In the way that involves the words I said to you. Do you want me to apologize?”

  “No. No, they just took me off guard.”

  “Or perhaps, they jolted you right out of your arousal, more like?”

  “Okay, maybe that. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever been with.”

  “You are.”

  She almost asked, who? Joelle? But she couldn’t stand the comparison, and he must have read her face.

  “I don’t mean Joelle. I meant, contrary to what you think of me, I don’t sleep with just anyone. I’ve never had one-night-stands. Or used the groupies that hung out with us. That was Spencer. I was always much more selective, and careful. I never liked women who slept around. I was with Joelle for five years, and only had a few girlfriends before her. Now I have a few, I guess you’d call them, ‘friends’ since she left.”

  “And now me?”

  “It was looking that way.”

  “It is that way,” she said, with a false bravado that she barely felt.

  “Rebecca, go home.”

  She stared up at him and tried to swallow the lump of nerves lodged in her throat. “I don’t want to.”

  His gaze settled on her, and made her weigh the options. She could look away and chicken out; or she could go through with it, like she fantasized about, and planned on, so she didn’t look away. But how then, should she close the gap now between them, which made her even more uncomfortable than before they started?

  He leaned forward, taking her hand in his, and pulling her towards him, all the while, not taking his eyes off hers. He was letting her know with his body language that there was no chickening out this time. No more chances to allow her feelings to overwhelm or betray her. He nearly lifted her off the bed and settled her back on top of him, astride his lap. She shivered at the feel of his hands on her bare back, and his eyes on her front. The sensation of his bare arm muscles, embracing her. There was something both sensual and tender in the movement of his hands. She was beginning to think she wasn’t alone in experiencing more from this than just sex. His lips lowered onto hers again, and she was pretty sure that was about all it took for him to turn her on like a faucet.

  He kissed her, moving her body over his, and his hands over her body in magical ways that soon had her moaning and forgetting everything else, but where he touched her next. By the time he finally slid on the condom, she was writhing with her legs open, and nearly screaming for relief from the titillating waves of longing inside her. He came into her as she lay on her back, and he supported himself while he hovered over her. Driving into her hard and slow, then hot and hurried, the thrilling feelings began their crescendo, and the crest of sexual release that she never experienced before seemed to nearly rip right through her.

  When they finished, he pushed a pillow under his head, and covered them with a messed up sheet. She lay still beside him, and unable to move for the bliss and pleasure now flowing through her body. The sheer joy of it kept her from moving. A kind of tingling remained when the pleasurable climax eventually faded. He shifted and brought her body closer to his. She snuggled into his warmth, missing the closeness and comfort of a man for years now. She wanted to soak it up, and expel the loneliness that seemed to permeate every cell of her body. She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes, the sunlight was slanting in the bedroom at a different angle. An evening angle.

  She glanced at the time, and saw it was close to six o’clock. All she had to show for her d
ay was a hangover, a shower and unprecedented sexual pleasure. Like everything else with Rob, she never spent such a day as this; but she was glad she did. She stretched her body and began to relish the freedom of doing something she shouldn’t. Then she realized she was all alone. Of course, Rob didn’t have any hangover, and was used to the late night hours. Why would he have stayed in bed with her? She felt weird again. Even weirder than earlier that morning. She shouldn’t have dozed off, since they hadn’t talked; and now it all felt so much bigger and stranger. What could she say to him?

  She was starving by then, but almost felt refreshed as she realized the last of the hangover was receding. She got up again, and reshowered, glad to see the bag she brought in her van now sitting by the doorway. Rob must’ve brought it in for her. She had jeans and a t-shirt. She was glad to wear her own clothes again, with her own curls and her normal, not-so-sexy, not-so-hip persona. She also had to get going to pick up her daughters before returning home.

  It was time to leave, she realized with a heavy heart. Time to return to her regular, boring days, her routine, her girls, her quiet, sane, but very normal life.

  Rob was what? A break from that? An exciting, never gonna happen again thrill? Or was it more?

  Her heart said it had to be more. She couldn’t imagine this being all of it. But she could never predict how he’d act or feel.

  Finally, she headed downstairs as the late sunlight descended through the open shades. Rob was sitting on the couch, watching ESPN, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was rumpled and he hadn’t showered. He glanced up when he heard her, but didn’t say anything.

  “I have to get going.”

  “Yeah. I was going to wake you up soon.”

  “I have to pick up the girls.”

  He nodded. She waited. For more. For something.

  “Do you need a ride to get your bike?” she finally asked.

  “Spencer dropped it off earlier.”

  “Oh,” she answered, wondering when, as well as what Spencer must’ve thought when he saw her van still parked in the driveway. “So I guess I should go,” she said, feeling like she was totally blowing everything. She had to let Rob be like that, but she didn’t know what to say, or how to relieve the sudden awkwardness she felt growing between them.

  “Not like you can stay here.” Hearing the resentment laced in his voice, she backed up, startled by how much his carelessness, and curt dismissal of her hurt. She knew that going in, didn’t she? He warned her what she was getting into, and he wasn’t the type to coddle her hurt feelings, or promise to take care of her.

  He unexpectedly got up, came around the couch, and walked through the kitchen into the laundry room. She followed, her bag in hand. Her vehicle was probably parked in the garage. He was holding the garage door open for her and clicked the electric opener next to him until the big garage door started to rattle open.

  As she came past him, he suddenly stopped her, placing his hand on her arm. His eye-lock on hers was intent. She wished he would say something, anything, about today, or about them. Something that would make it seem like what they did was what he wanted. Or tell her he wasn’t going to send her home and never call her again. Instead, his mouth came down on hers.

  “Keys are in it,” he mumbled as his lips left hers.

  “Rob?” she finally asked, “What is this?”

  His mouth tightened, and furrowed lines bracketed his lips. His eyes drilled into her. “You tell me what this is.”

  “A mistake?”

  “Probably.”

  She looked into his face for more of an explanation. “Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  She waited, still wanting more. Wanting answers, or heartfelt statements of what was next. Of seeing each other more often. But instead, he seemed just as confused as she was. He didn’t know what to do now, anymore than she did. And he was right; they did live really far apart. And she did have three kids, she was still married, and her brother hated him. And how did all those problems factor into this? What? Were they a couple? Would she be willing to claim Rob for her boyfriend? It shamed her to realize she had no idea. So how could he know the answer?

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll just go,” she finally said, taking a step back, and repeating her earlier intentions. He dropped his hand off her arm and she turned to leave. She backed her van out and he didn’t come running after her, but simply closed the door as soon as she was safely out of the way.

  Tears pricked her eyes before she hit the side streets. She hated herself now. For not taking Rob’s warnings seriously. For being mad, even furious with him, when she was no more willing to say what it was than he. She was not willing to take a chance on him. She merely slept with him, and now had no idea why, or what to make of that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It went all wrong with Rebecca. Rob didn’t know what to do, or how to handle her in that situation. He never intended to sleep with her and even made up his mind when she nearly passed out that he wouldn’t take that major step with her. Until she decided differently. And then, afterwards, she just went to sleep, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what he should say to her when she woke up. So he retreated from her, since he wasn’t sure what he was feeling towards her.

  The phone rang mid-week and he answered it to find Rebecca on the other end. He knew she’d call, and do exactly what she did in the past: coordinate their schedules, take care of things, and express her “Mom” urge and make a plan. He usually stopped by Bethany’s anytime he felt the craving for sex, and wasn’t sure what he thought of planned out, organized, appointment sleeping with a woman.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  “I see we’ve progressed pretty far from this weekend.”

  He chuckled. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what? That we had sex? I think we both know that. What we don’t know is what to do next.”

  “What does next mean?”

  “Next means my daughter. She asked me to call and invite you to her fourth birthday party. So I’m calling to invite you; will you come? It’s on Saturday, here at one o’clock.”

  “You called for Karlee?”

  “Yes. Unbelievably, yes. She begged me to ask you to come.”

  “She wants me to come to her birthday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just Karlee wants me to come?”

  She sighed. “Fine. You want to be honest with each other, huh? I want you to come.”

  “Rebecca, I don’t know. We’re not really...” Anything, he almost said.

  “Oh yes, we really are,” Rebecca said in a self-assured tone. “Rob, we didn’t handle Saturday like we should have, but the thing is, we both know I’m not just one of your friends. And you don’t want me to be one. You’ve acted too weird all along about us sleeping together for that to be the case. So come to my daughter’s birthday. It will upset her if you don’t.”

  “Now you’re involving your kids in this thing between us?”

  She paused. “Yes. I am. I mean I’m not going to sit them down and tell them I had sex with the nice man I’m writing my book about! But yeah, you’re going to see them and be around them.”

  “Why?”

  “Rob, just come. Please,” she said softly. He couldn’t refuse that tone, nor could he refuse Karlee asking specifically for him. He cursed the position he was in. He didn’t know what to make of all the responsibility and baggage that Rebecca came with.

  “Fine, I’ll come. But when it ruins your party, and your family hates you for asking me, don’t pretend I didn’t warn you.”

  “You’re always warning me. Funny how you never take your own warnings. One of these days, you’re going to have to man up and admit how you feel about me.”

  Then she hung the phone up on him.

  ****

  Rebecca had been hosting birthday parties for ten years, and had them down to a
science. She had, long ago, shopped for and wrapped Karlee’s presents, as well as ordered a cake to match the Disney Princess theme of her party. Karlee was already dressed as her favorite princess, Sleeping Beauty. Her dress was pink and frilly with a crown to match.

  The house was all decorated and cleaned. There was chairs set up outside, and the table had a princess table cloth and matching plates. It was a little girl’s dream of pink shades and princesses.

  Kayla and Kathy helped Rebecca get the food prepared. All of them were in good moods, chatting together happily. Debbie also arrived early to help set up and cook. By one o’clock, everything was ready, and after about a dozen pictures of Karlee surrounded by her presents and balloons, she was off and running around. It was a warm, pleasant June day. The party guests could easily flow out onto the deck, which had balloons hanging everywhere too.

  Slowly, over the next half hour, her family arrived. In no time, the house was loudly brimming with kids and peals of contagious laughter. Everyone got party horns and streamers that Karlee passed out to them all. Birthday presents were piled thick and deep, just waiting to be opened.

  Nick was holding Jody and followed by Joelle when he came in. Rebecca found, for the first time in her life, she couldn’t hold Nick’s gaze. She felt weird, then beyond weird with him after last weekend. When she was drunk, she could easily blow off what she was doing with Rob in front of Nick. But now that she was sober, and back into her normal routine, in her safe world, she started to wonder what she was really thinking last weekend. What exactly was she doing with Rob Williams?

  At first, she planned to never call Rob again, she was so freaked out. Then she realized how stupid that was. She was actually scared to call him, and the nerves churned in her stomach for days until Karlee begged her more than once to invite him to her birthday party. It gave her just the excuse she needed, and Rob didn’t say no.