He spun around and took five long but quick steps toward me. Tom and John stood, this time to protect me.
“I’m not scared of you,” I said stepping between the two gentlemen. “Clearly everyone else around here is—what with your temper tantrums and all.”
The corners of his mouth flickered up, and I thought for a moment he would smile. He didn’t. Slowly, he swaggered over to me with an intense look in his eyes. His left hand touched my neck as it fisted into my hair, and he pulled backward with just a bit of force. Nothing that hurt me, but I think he wanted it to.
“You don’t scare me,” I repeated, and he tugged a little more.
“Maybe I should,” he threatened.
I giggled just a bit knowing we were more than a matinee performance for this bar.
“Why are you here?” His face was about ten inches away from mine.
“I told you.”
“Because of my mom? You’re here for her?”
I tried to nod, but his hand in my hair didn’t allow it.
“Yes. I’m here for your mom.” I wanted to say more. I wanted to say I was here to save him again like I had six years ago when he moved to Ashland. I wanted to hold him and make any pain that I ever caused go away. I wanted to feel his arms around me. I wanted to make his eyes chocolate again. I needed Zach.
The grip on my hair released, and he back stepped from me.
“Well then. Don’t you have a rich attorney at Harvard to go fuck?”
Sam gasped and popped her hand over her mouth.
I nodded toward Tom and John. “Thank you both for your help.” Then I walked past Zach as if he meant nothing to me. “Sorry if I interrupted your blow job in the back room.” I kept walking to the bar and passed Hank a five-dollar bill. “One of the coldest beers I’ve ever had Hank, nice work.” When I got to Sam, she was giving Zach an open-mouthed stare. I squeezed her shoulders, whispered, “thanks” and pushed open the door.
Before it closed, I heard Sam shout, “You’re a fucking idiot!”
I didn’t know if she was screaming that at Zach or me…but I ran as fast as I could to the Rover and drove away.
As I tiptoed into his room, I heard his breaths…long and steady. He was in a deep sleep. When I walked into Panchas earlier, neither Sam nor I knew if he’d be receptive to talking to me. The unexpected slap to the face about Austin wasn’t what I predicted, but I was a big girl. So I had gone back to the hotel, put on my big girl panties and waited for Sam to text.
Now, here I stood in his room. If Sam had done her job, the handcuffs were already attached to the bed. I just needed to cuff his hands. It would have to be done quickly or I was screwed. One hand was lying in perfect position, but the other was beneath his head. Slowly, I placed the closest wrist in the cuff but didn’t lock it, afraid the locking clicks would wake him. But if he pushed down, at all, it would lock. When he started to stir, I did it. I grabbed his other wrist, forced it down, and within five seconds, he was wide-awake and fighting. The clinking of chains jerking was loud in the quiet night.
I flipped on the lamp, on the nightstand and he stopped fighting and squinted up at me.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked with much less anger in his tone than earlier at the bar.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Really? Was this necessary?” he asked. I sat next to him on the bed. If I wasn’t so frustrated, this could easily have been a very erotic situation. “Unlock these cuffs, now.”
“No. I need you to be clean. I need you to be sober.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’m not an addict Emma. I’m not an alcoholic. I use on occasion. Now unlock me.”
Hearing him say my name shook me to the core. It was Zach who called me Emma when everyone else called me Runt. It was Zach who opened up the door for me to become a girl, a woman…Emma.
“No. I’m not going to unlock them until we talk.”
“Fine. Talk!” he yelled.
“Not when you’re angry.”
He chuckled and the hair on my neck stood. “I just woke up at 2 a.m. to find myself handcuffed to my own bed, by my ex-girlfriend. Forgive me if I’m a little angry. What do you want?”
“Why are you using again?”
“I’m not using,” he said with distaste dripping off his words.
I raised my brows. “Really? What was that last night?”
He shook his head seemingly disgusted.
“You promised, Zach,” I said softly.
The cuffs clanged against the iron of his bed as he jerked. “A lot of promises have been broken,” he snarled. “Besides, I have my reasons.”
“You mean after you left me in a hotel room, half-naked with another man…after you made out with me and got me so turned on I could barely stand it?”
“Unlock me.”
I paced next to the bed. “Do you know how much I wanted you that night? Even after you left. I tried to tell you not to go. I begged. But you didn’t listen to me then. So I don’t care about your reasons.”
His arms, outstretched above his head, were sexy as hell. And I wanted to see his chest…his abs…but his T-shirt was covering him. I’d made up my mind in that short second that I was going to do the same thing to him. I was going to turn him on, get him all worked up, and then walk out. Leave. I loved his mother, but coming here was a mistake. I would give it one last-ditched effort for her.
“Why haven’t you kept in contact with your mom?” I asked.
He kicked the sheets off his leg, exposing his Nike sweatshorts. He was clearly irritated or hot.
“I should have done a better job,” he said.
“Why haven’t you?” I asked again.
“I don’t know, Emma.”
“Why?” I asked my anger growing.
“I don’t know,” he nearly shouted. “Because it was hard.”
I inhaled slowly. “Because of me?”
His eyes hardened. “Don’t flatter yourself. Ashland wasn’t my home. That’s all.”
Even now, the words hurt. After all these years, I at least wanted him to miss me. I wanted him to want me again. I wanted to know that he was miserable all this time without me. I crossed my legs and sat Indian style. My leg lying against his.
His eyes that I swore were black earlier were a melted brown now. Darker than normal but not black anymore. It was weird…the color change. I wanted to reach out and touch him and see if that affected his eyes. There was a magic 8 ball lying on his dresser. I had one when I was really little but hadn’t seen one in years. I got it and shook it.
“Is Zach going to come home with me?” I looked in the window to see my answer. “Don’t count on it,” I read aloud.
His brows rose in victory.
I shook it harder and asked again. “Is Zach going to come home with me?” The damn window said it again, “Don’t count on it.”
A trace of a smile touched his lips so I continued.
“Does Zach hate me?” I shook the ball hard and watched him close his eyes. “Cannot predict now,” I read aloud.
“Does Zach want Sophia?” I asked the ball again.
He pursed his lips as I shook the ball.
“Ask again later,” I read aloud.
“Has Zach used drugs or alcohol today?”
This time, he shook his head in an offended way.
“Unlock me, Emma,” he ordered as I shook the ball.
“Outlook not so good,” I again read aloud.
He adjusted his body on the bed, situating himself away from my touch.
“I haven’t used since you saw me the first night, and I haven’t drank since last night.”
I smacked his leg. “Stop lying, the 8 ball never lies,” I joked.
A broader smile touched his lips and that thrilled me. Here goes…
“Does Zach want to kiss Emma?” I asked biting down on my bottom lip in embarrassment that I had even said it.
His face held little reaction. I shook the ball and peeked
in the window.
“Concentrate and ask again,” I read to Zach, who closed his eyes.
“Emma. How long are we gonna play this game?”
I wish I knew if this was as annoying to him as he made me believe. At one time, I could read his every thought, but it wasn’t clear to me anymore.
I closed my eyes and held the ball…concentrating as I asked. “Does Zach want to kiss Emma?”
The window read, “It is decidedly so.”
His eyes came open, and he stared at me. He couldn’t stop me from kissing him. Suddenly, I moved from where I sat by his knees up near his waist. I wasn’t sure if I could kiss him…yet. I remembered very clearly four years ago just exactly what his kiss did to me. Scared…excited…the thought aroused a feeling deep in the pit of my pelvis. Rather than kiss him, I went for the T-shirt. This was totally turning into something sexual rather than the interrogation I needed it to be. I needed answers. Why was he destroying things when he thought of me? Why was he breaking things when he heard Journey songs? Only he could answer that. I would find out. How would he respond to my touch? Revenge sucked as he was about to find out.
My hands made contact with the skin on his abdomen as I lifted his shirt; he flinched.
“Stop, Em,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
I stopped, grabbed the 8 ball and grinned. “Does Zach want me to stop?”
“Enough of this shit,” he said angrily as I shook the ball and read the window.
“Don’t count on it…” I read and giggled then lifted his shirt quickly up and over his head, pushing it all the way up by his hands. And when I sat back, I saw it…my promise ring from all those years ago. It dangled on a chain circling his neck. The diamond much smaller than I remembered.
“Zaaach…” I whispered. “I knew you took it,” I said as I touched the circle of gold. Without reservation, I laid my cheek on his chest. The warmth his body brought to my face…brought to my heart. He wore my ring. He kept it—not just kept it—but kept it right next to his heart. An overwhelming feeling of love flooded through my body as his pulse throbbed in my ear.
Back on track! Instinctively, I turned my head into his chest brushing my lips over his skin. The deep inhalation coming from him sounded more like a hiss, and I raised my head to monitor his reaction. His eyes were closed. Did this please him? With my fingertips, I traced over his chest and down his abs…his stomach was way the hell hotter than I remembered. The term washboard abs was overused…but as I counted the mounds of muscle, my body responded. He’d worked out a lot!
I kissed his stomach, his chest, feeling the muscles contract beneath my lips. I was losing control of the entire situation, which was mine to control. Then in one swift movement, I straddled his body with mine and leaned toward his face. His eyes were open now watching me intently. I brushed my nose with his nose. I kissed his eyebrows, between his eyebrows, his eyelids and cheeks, and then lastly, I kissed his chin. His mouth lay slightly open and his eyes were intense with desire. He wanted me…I think. Perfect!
It only took a short second for me to decide to do it… I pressed my lips to his to see if he’d respond, or at the very least, what his response would be. His lips were soft and warm and everything I’d remembered, but the hunger I use to feel from him…was missing. I was forcing myself on him, making a fool of myself, disgusting him? I stopped.
He seemed to be measuring my response now.
“I’d like to have my hands free…to touch you if you don’t mind,” he spoke softly.
His eyes were sincere. I needed that too. His hands in my hair. His hand at the small of my back. His hands anywhere on me. Then I would walk out. I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked his hands without question. Taking his hands in mine, I kissed both his wrists.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For handcuffing you.”
“I’m sorry too,” he said.
I raised my brows. “For what?”
He moved to my side. “For handcuffing you.”
Before I had a chance to understand, he shoved me backward, pinning my arms with his hands and clinked the handcuffs…smiling as he did it.
“Zach this is not funny. Unlock me.”
He plopped down next to me with the biggest smile I’d seen yet in four years. He grabbed the 8 ball.
“Dear oh magic 8 ball—shall I unlock Em?” He shook the ball. I hated not having my hands free. He read it. “My sources say no.” He grinned.
“Zach please!” I begged loudly beginning to feel panicked. “Seriously, I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t.”
He nodded. “I understand. Let me ask the 8 ball that you trust so much. It doesn’t lie, you said so yourself.” He shook it then shook his head. “It says ask again later. I’ll just set it over here then ask again in a little while…ok?” He chuckled and seemed very proud of himself.
“SAM!!!” I yelled.
The footsteps came running down the hall and she rushed into the room. Her eyes flickered from me to Zach and back to me. Zach smiled at her.
“Oh, Emma. You’ve gotten yourself into a heap of trouble.”
“Help me Sam, please,” I begged.
“Get out Sam,” Zach chuckled.
She propped her hand on her hip and glared at Zach, who was still beaming.
“Be nice to her,” she warned, and I felt my chances slipping away.
“No Sam! Please…”
She winked at me. “He won’t hurt you Emma. I know that.” Then the door closed.
Chapter 4—Torture
When she closed the door, my hope dwindled and my eyes closed.
“We need to talk,” he said in almost a mocking tone.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He flipped off the switch of the lamp on the nightstand and flicked on a lamp in the far corner, which provided very little light.
“What?”
“You drove all the way down here because of my mother?”
It sounded like a statement but I think it was a question.
“Yes. Initially, I think.” I shook my head. “Not entirely. I…needed to see you.”
He sat at the foot of the bed leaning against the footboard.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about you 1000 times.”
“1000?” he yelled and I flinched at the sound as it echoed off his walls. “It would be 1470 times and that would be if I just thought about you once a day. Did you think about me while you were fucking him?”
“Stop, please. I loved you so much.”
“So much, you went straight to him.”
I yanked hard on the handcuffs. “I didn’t go straight to him and I was 16 Zach!”
He ran his hands the length of his face and now paced at the foot of the bed. “I know.”
“You walked away, not me. And not just walked, but sprinted like Usain Bolt! You left me with him!”
His eyes changed from angry to something I couldn’t decipher as he approached the side of the bed then sat. His hips touched mine, which caused a stirring inside of me. He reached for the 8 ball, and I rolled my eyes, not sure if I was annoyed with myself for the game or him.
“Does Emma want me to kiss her?”
I shook my head. “Can’t you come up with your own lines? Do you have to use all my questions?”
His eyebrow rose and he seductively leaned toward my face. I unconsciously moistened my lips ready to kiss him. With his nose, he drew up and down my cheek then back to my ear…kissing my ear and smelling my hair sending a wave of goose bumps over my skin.
“Does Emma…” he whispered right next to my ear, “want me to fuck her?”
A moan escaped my throat and I swallowed dryly as fireworks exploded in my pelvis. Zach had always been respectful and loving and a gentleman. This was not the normal Zach. But something about it…about him…was erotic and touched every erogenous zone that existed on my body. He retreated shaking the ball…
/>
I waited for the ball’s response, holding my breath, wondering if it would be the right one. Hell! What was the right one? He smiled, a confident smile and said, “Without a doubt.”
I stared at him. Excited. Unsure. “Please release me?”
He stood, placed the 8 ball on the night stand, sat next to me and rubbed the back of his finger down my face. My body came to life under his touch.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
He complied immediately, forcing his lips to mine with such a gentle touch—just like I remembered. His tongue finding mine and our mutual moans joined. His fingers wound deep in my hair and his kiss now more passionate than I recalled. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to touch him. I wanted him. I wanted to remember everything about him.
The kiss moved from my lips, to my cheek, down my throat and then he stopped. With one hand, he unbuttoned my shirt slowly and methodically.
“Please unlock me,” I asked again. This damn handcuffing thing had backfired…majorly!
He shook his head. “No…but please say stop, ok?” he said as he unfastened the front clasp to my bra.
“What do you mean?”
“If you say stop, I’ll stop. Ok? Do you understand? Without hesitation, I’ll stop what I’m doing.” His eyes penetrated my soul as he spoke.
I nodded. But I knew, I was not going to say stop. Having my hands restrained was new to me…I didn’t know if I could do it.
His hands slid the length of my sternum. I’d never felt so vulnerable.
As his hand wrapped around my breast, his mouth lowered over it.
“Aaaah,” I groaned.
His mouth did things to me that were unbelievable. The way his tongue moved, I would have sworn there was a direct line to between my legs. I wanted to hold his head there, but I had no control. None. He could do what he wanted with me…and I wanted that.
My arms were beginning to ache, but that ache was ignorable. The one coming from between my legs wasn’t. My back unconsciously arched toward his mouth and he let out a growl that acted as gas to my fire.
“Zach…”
His other hand glided over my stomach to the waistband of my shorts. When he stopped his assault on my breasts, his hands removed my shorts and underwear in one swift movement. I couldn’t believe the jukebox plan that was shot to shit had only happened four hours ago. Yesterday, he was getting blown by Sophia and now… I’m an idiot.
Just One of the Guys 3 My Someday... Page 3
