by RC Boldt
Somehow, she found herself opening her car door, getting out, and closing it. Pressing her key fob to lock it before dropping her keys into her small clutch purse, she walked slowly up the driveway and up the stairs of the beach house on stilts. Bracing herself, she stopped in front of Zach. He hadn’t moved from his position in the doorway.
His gaze was guarded. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she returned the simple, one-word greeting.
“I thought I heard a car pull into the driveway.” His gaze was curious, eyes searching hers. They both stood there, warily watching one another for a long moment. Finally, Zach moved his left arm, shifting slightly to one side. Laney slid through and heard him close the door quietly behind her.
Turning around to face him, she saw him watching her carefully, closely, as if unsure what she was doing there in his house. Hell, she was unsure of what she was doing there.
Those full lips of his quirked up in a half smile. “You get lost on your way home?”
Crap. She should have known he wouldn’t make this easy for her. She decided, right then, to go with blatant honesty.
She spoke, the words rushing out before she lost her courage, “Can we just have tonight? You can go back to hating me tomorrow but, please, can we have tonight?”
* * *
Her voice sounded so small, so timid and vulnerable, so unlike Laney that it stunned him. Having her stand before him, in his foyer, so beautiful in that long dress with strands of hair that had come loose from her up-do made it difficult for him to catch his breath. He never really thought this moment would happen. Sure, he had hoped—dreamed, even—but thinking it would actually happen? Never.
The stars had aligned and he wasn’t about to turn away from this. Even if a small, nagging part of him screamed that it was a mistake. He took a step closer to her and then another. Reaching his hands out to cup her face, thumbs swiping tenderly across her cheekbones, he bent his head. “I don’t hate you, Laney,” he whispered before taking her mouth.
The moment their lips touched, he felt a jolt run through him. He walked her back against the wall, pressing his body to hers. He deepened the kiss, tilting his head to the side, sliding his tongue inside to taste her. Her soft moans encouraged him, and when he felt her hands fisting the collar of his shirt to tug his body closer to hers, he couldn’t withhold a groan of pleasure.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he took her hand in his. Zach led her through his house, turning off the lone hall light as he went, until they came to his bedroom. Laney kicked her heels off to the side and he pulled her to him, pressing a trail of kisses along the column of her neck.
His breath was hot against her skin as he spoke. “As much as I’d love to rip this off you, I don’t want to ruin your dress …” She took a step back, reaching to her side beneath her right arm and began to tug the zipper down slowly. He watched the dress slide down her body, landing in a pile at her feet, leaving her clad only in a pale purple thong with lightning bolts printed on them. His gaze stayed on those panties of hers and felt his lips tilt up at the corners. Those were totally Laney. Full of personality.
As his eyes encompassed the entire view of her body, he felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Holy shit. She was exquisite. Even better than his dreams. Her nipples were a dusky pink, reacting to the coolness of the air conditioning, beginning to pucker.
“Laney,” he breathed. “You are … breathtaking.”
“You’re wearing way too much,” she complained huskily, fingers working the remaining buttons of his shirt. Zach started unbuttoning his pants because, let’s be honest, he was feeling pretty hasty and wanted—no, needed—to feel Laney’s body against his own.
She finished unbuttoning his shirt and was shoving it off his shoulders at the same moment he’d shucked his pants, kicking them off from where they had gathered around his ankles. Noticing her downward gaze and subsequent surprised look, he answered her unspoken question. “Yes. Commando.”
Her gaze flew up to meet his. “All the time?”
“Most of the time.”
“Huh. Interesting.” She drew out the last word thoughtfully just as she reached her hand out to grasp him. Eliciting a sharp inhalation from him, Laney smiled and stroked him, her grip driving him crazy.
“Laney,” he gritted his teeth, gently removing her hand from him, “you’ve got to stop or I’ll embarrass myself and disappoint you.”
Her smile grew wider and she walked him back to the bed until it hit the back of his knees. Gently guiding him onto it, he lay propped upon his pillows, watching as she slid her panties down her legs.
“I want to ride you, Zach. To feel you deep inside of me.” Her gaze was hot as it ran over his body before focusing on his hard, pulsing cock.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. Laney was a dirty talker. He swore his cock grew even harder from her words alone.
“You wanna ride me?” He pulled her down to straddle him on the bed. “I have to taste you first. Only after I taste you, put my tongue on you—inside of you—will I let you ride me.” He brushed a thumb over her nipple, her body arching into his touch.
“Is that right?” Her question came in a near pant when his thumb was replaced with his mouth, rasping his tongue against her nipple, feeling it pebble at the touch.
“That’s right.” Zach reached up to pull her down, taking her mouth again in a hot kiss, his tongue seeking hers. God, he couldn’t get enough of this woman.
She ran her hands up his arms and shoulders to slide her fingers over his short hair. She grasped his head and pulled him closer, tilting her head to deepen their kiss, tongue sparring with his. The feel of her pebbled nipples against his chest drove him crazy. He wanted to put his mouth on her. Everywhere.
Zach didn’t know how it was possible but he swore he’d never been so turned on before in his life. How was it that the one woman who made him feel insatiable was Laney Kavanaugh? The one woman whose single mission in life seemed to be to hate him?
But, with her body pressed into his, those soft, toned curves were making him nearly orgasm right then and there. Like a fucking teenage boy. And, hell, the woman could kiss. Not to mention the fact that she liked dirty talk?
So. Fucking. Good.
His lips trailed down her earlobe, running his teeth over it, darting the tip of his tongue out to flick at it. Withdrawing his mouth, he gently pushed her to sit up, still straddling him while one hand traveled down her body.
“Are you wet for me, Laney?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“Yes.” Her breath hitched as he slid a finger between her folds and probed gently. She arched into his touch, as if urging him to push deeper inside of her.
“You want that?” God, he loved hearing the way her breath caught as he slid his finger deep inside of her wet heat.
She whimpered, “Please, Zach.” He rewarded her by sliding two fingers inside of her again, causing her to push against his hand.
“You’re so fucking wet, Laney. I have to taste you.” Removing his fingers from her, he gripped her hips, pulling her up his chest until her center was right over his mouth.
“So soft and waxed. I am going to taste you until you come. All over my tongue.” He heard her groan just before he lowered those glistening lips to his mouth. He slid his tongue inside of her, darting it in and out, causing her to moan and thrust against his mouth.
“Zach … please,” she pleaded. Watching her, her eyes fell closed, lips parted. She had one hand gripping the headboard of the bed while the other was braced against the wall.
Zach watched as one hand moved to her breast, gliding her fingertips over her nipple. Sweet mother of God. This woman was going to be the death of him.
He was entranced as his gaze followed her hand, fingers toying with her own nipple before tugging gently at it with her thumb and forefinger. Zach felt her wetness increase on his tongue, making his cock painfully hard. He moved one hand from her hip to her clit, pressing and rubbing in circula
r motions as his tongue thrust inside of her. Her thigh muscles tightened and he repeated his actions, feeling her body tense just before she surrendered to her orgasm.
“Zach,” she gasped as her body began to shudder. He felt her inner muscles clench and release before her wetness engulfed his tongue. He lapped at her sweet essence as her body shivered in the aftermath of her orgasm.
Sliding her nearly boneless body back down to lie upon him, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, whispering, “Delicious.”
* * *
Laney just had the most powerful orgasm. Ever. And it had come from Zach. Zachariah Mayson had just given her the messiah of all orgasms.
Holy shit.
Did hell just freeze over? Yep, hell must have frozen over. Because that was the only explanation for his tongue being inside of her, tasting her, licking her. Just thinking about it made her wet. Really wet.
She felt his firm, muscled body beneath hers, his cock hard against her stomach, almost prodding. He was bigger than she had expected. So nice and thick and long.
Laney raised herself up. “It’s my turn, now.”
He watched her, heat flaring in his eyes. “Do with me as you wish.”
She shot him a sharp look. “You’re not about to unleash some Princess Bride quotes, are you? Because that’s where I draw the line.”
“Laney, I just had my tongue inside of you. And you liked it. A lot.” His pointed look made her blush. “I’m pretty sure I could get away with some of those quotes, if I wanted to.”
She sighed dramatically. “Typical man. Always try—”
Her words were cut off by him, hand sliding to the back of her head, his mouth fused to hers, kissing her words away. His tongue slid over hers and she tasted herself on him, eliciting the most delicious shiver. Beneath her, his cock hardened even more. She felt Zach remove some of the pins holding her long hair in place, tossing them to the hardwood floor.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered with a wicked grin, “Do your worst.”
No way. He did not just toss out a quote from The Count of Monte Cristo. It was one of her all-time favorite books.
She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, finishing the quote, “For I will do mine.”
He reached over to the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a condom. Taking it from him, she ripped it open, and rolled it over his hard length.
Her eyes met his. “I want to put my mouth on you but it’ll have to wait because, right now …” She gripped him, eliciting a groan, and she felt him pulse in her hand. “Right now, I need you deep inside of me.”
Laney scooted up to straddle him and lowered herself onto his cock, sliding over him in an excruciatingly slow manner, causing them both to let out a moan. Working herself over him little by little, she finally slid down fully, taking him as deep as she could.
Gasping, she leaned over him, her hair draping their faces. “You feel so good … so hard inside of me.”
His hips thrust up as she slid back down over him. They continued this tempo, his upward thrusts simultaneous with her pressing down onto him. He pushed as deep as possible, filling her with his hard cock.
“You’re so tight, Laney. Fuck, you feel so good around my cock,” he gasped against her lips. God, this man turned her on, his words so delicious and dirty. His hands moved to grip the sides of her hips and pull her down into his upward thrusts, tempo increasing as both of them neared their orgasm.
“I want you to come,” his gravelly voice was filled with heat, “all over my cock.”
His words set her off and she felt herself tighten as she rode him, her inner muscles contracting around him as the waves of her orgasm crashed over her. She vaguely heard him give a loud grunt following two more hard, deep thrusts. She slumped across his body, exhausted, limp-bodied. The light caress of his fingertips on her back startled her.
That was oddly kind of … intimate.
Raising up on her arms, his sated eyes met hers. A jolt of pride ran through her at the fact that she was the one to put that look there.
What the hell is that about?
Steeling herself, she tried to speak nonchalantly. “I guess I’d better head home.”
An eyebrow rose while the corners of his lips quirked. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, trying to convince herself since, deep down, it was the last thing she wanted. Hell, the guy was still inside of her for crying out loud.
“Too bad.” He spoke the words a split second before flipping her over onto her back. Disposing of the condom, he came to lie beside her with his head propped on his arm, staring down at her. His gaze radiated warmth, unlike the way he normally looked at her. This look of warmth—with a shade of tenderness—made her feel antsy and uncomfortable.
“I’m not done with you just yet.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Oh? What if I’m done with you?”
Something flashed across his face, but before she could decipher it, it was replaced with a cocky smirk. “Something tells me you’re not.” His fingertips began making swirl patterns along her chest and down her stomach, causing tiny shivers, her nipples puckering in the wake.
“Really? And what tells you that?” she asked with far more bravado than she felt, eyes at odds with her words as they grew hazy with lust.
Zach flashed her a naughty grin as he slid a finger inside of her, his eyes lighting up at her gasp. Leaning down to press a kiss to her nipple, he whispered, “That’s what tells me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZACH AWOKE AT THE FIRST sign of dawn breaking through the blinds of his bedroom windows. He lowered his gaze to the owner whose body was half-draped over him, palm over the center of his chest, one leg thrown over his.
Well, well, well. Look who’s a sprawler in their sleep.
He smiled down at Laney lying on her stomach, breathing deeply. Her hair was draped across the pillow, a single lock lying over her cheek. Gently, he brushed the hair back from her face, his fingertips lightly caressing the silky softness of her cheek, watching as a tiny smile formed on her lips. Carefully, so as not to rouse her, he placed his hand on top of the one she had laid upon his chest, right over his heart.
Closing his eyes with a low exhale, he whispered in the silence, “Finally.”
Then, Zach slowly extricated himself from her and went to start on breakfast.
This occasion called for his famous omelets.
* * *
The smell of coffee mixed with the awareness of not being in her own bed woke Laney. Rubbing her hands over her eyes with a moan, she scanned her surroundings. Good God, where was she? Then it all came back to her.
Pure panic engulfed her. Mayday, mayday, mayday! She was in Zach’s bed. And, oh wait, it got worse.
Laney peered down at her completely naked body in disbelief and betrayal. She had slept with him last night. Many times. Like, many, many times. With dirty talk. And it had been goooood.
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. It had been … well, she couldn’t really come up with the right word for it but it definitely surpassed good. Hell, the memory of how delicious it had been was already getting her aroused. Stupid traitorous body.
The worst part was that she was pretty sure Zachariah Mayson had ruined her for other men. Him. The bane of her existence. Yet, he had managed to rock her world, had all but turned her into a Pavlovian orgasmer.
The entire situation was pure insanity and she had to attempt to save face somehow. Sliding off the bed, she pulled on her badly wrinkled bridesmaid dress. She had no choice but to go without her thong because … well, who the hell knew where that had gone to. She braced herself for the confrontation she knew was ahead of her.
Running a hand over her hair before swiping her fingers beneath her eyes to try and clean up remnants of mascara surely there, Laney grabbed her heels and padded across the hardwood floor in search of the coffee she smelled brewing.
As she came into the kitchen, the sight stoppe
d her dead in her tracks. Zach was standing with his back to her, shirtless, muscles playing as he worked something on the stove. His pajama pants hung low, and when he turned around to grab something from the counter, the sharp V lines beneath his abs grew more pronounced.
“I see someone’s finally awake.” He gave her a small smile, his eyes soft and tender as they traveled over her length. “You could have gone through my drawers and put on a shirt and boxers. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable.”
Laney stared at him, eyes wide in alarm, and felt the panic take over. Who was this guy and what did he do with Zachariah Mayson? She could handle the animosity, the barbs, the insults from Zach. But this? This whole ‘I can be a sweet guy who makes coffee and breakfast for you in the morning’? That guy? She had no freaking clue what to do with him.
And was that an omelet he was making? A mother effing omelet? Oh, hell, no.
Her eyes met his and she saw the moment he realized things were not headed in the direction he’d intended. It was as if shutters came down, the light, sweet expression disappearing within his darkening eyes.
“I take it you’re not planning on staying for my famous omelets, then.” His tone was dull.
She waved her hands between them, feeling frantic. “We don’t do this, Zach. That’s not the way this works.”
“Oh? Tell me how, exactly, this is supposed to work?” Strong sarcasm laced his tone.
“Last night was a one-time thing. I mean, today, we’re supposed to go back to hating each other, okay? That’s how this works!” She threw her hands in the air, her voice rising in irritation. Why did she have to spell it out for him when he should very well know it? Since that’s how things had been between them for the last few years.
“Last night changed things, Laney! It changed things between us!” he shot back angrily.
“We hate each other, so there is no ‘us’!” she exploded. As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, her hand went to her lips as if shocked by the intensity behind her words. There was no denying the sick, churning in the pit of her stomach.
