by Mira Gibson
Well, maybe not at first…
Zach was still Zach Canning after all…
…and Abby was still a woman who melted at his touch.
She fiddled nervously with the cross dangling from her necklace, took more than a few clumsy gulps of wine, then offered him another shy, apprehensive smile.
She didn’t know where to start.
It was cute.
So, to take some pressure off and break the ice, he said, “You probably want to lay down some ground rules.”
“Yes,” she enthused, relief visibly washing over her.
“For the record,” he cut in, needing to get what he was about to say off his chest, “I didn’t want to go off with Jamison and disappear on you, or do any of that.”
Her dainty eyebrows knit thoughtfully together in what appeared to be skepticism.
“Hey, I’ll be the first to admit I have vices. I’ve never lied about it and I make no apologies,” he told her because nothing was closer to the truth. “But believe it or not, I actually wasn’t in the mood to have that kind of night.”
Timidly, she asked, “What kind of night were you in the mood for?”
He felt a crooked grin tug at the corner of his mouth. “A night with you and only you,” he said softly and watched how the deep timbre of his tone washed over her, causing the rigid tension she’d been holding herself together with to ease and relax enough for him to notice. “A night that I was hoping wouldn’t have to end.”
She stiffened a bit, her brilliant eyes narrowing with scrutiny, as she corrected, “A night that would include a romp in the handicap bathroom of an arthouse movie theater?”
“Alright,” he began, prepared to concede immediately and admit, “you’re right. That was probably crossing a line. All I meant by it was that I would’ve rather focused on you and being with you for two and a half hours than watch Jamison’s over-the-top acting.”
“You seemed to help yourself when it came to ‘focusing’ on me and it didn’t require a trip to the bathroom,” she pointed out, grilling him in a way he kind of liked.
There was that grin tugging at the corner of his mouth again as he countered, “You seemed to enjoy every second of it, if I’m not mistaken, which was why I thought a trip to the bathroom might be called for.”
“Oh, I didn’t call for that,” she said, adding a playful edge to this arousing interrogation.
“My mistake,” he breathed, getting lost in the intensity of her green eyes, the soft shape of her plump lower lip, her overall chiding air that he found seriously sexy.
She was a very good girl, and he was the baddest of bad boys…
If Abby had it in her to whip him into shape and keep him in line, it might not only be the biggest and most unexpected turn-on he’d ever faced. This might very well be a match made in heaven.
“So, ground rules,” he supplied. “No fondling in dark movie theaters.”
She thwacked his chest, relaxing even more.
“Was it my use of the word ‘fondling’…?” he asked as if innocently confused.
“Why don’t we say this,” she suggested. “Let’s keep it clean for the cameras and whatever happens behind closed doors will stay private.”
“Behind closed doors?” he echoed and felt his brows spike up to his hairline. “Like how we’re behind closed doors right now?”
He inched closer to her on the couch and, after a moment’s hesitation, his large hand hovering over her thigh where the thin material of her skirt hemmed against her bare skin, gently touched his fingers down, hand resting then grazing her leg.
“It’s very private here,” he commented, his voice a growl a best.
He could feel the tension ease out of her. Her shoulders relaxed even more and the playfully stern expression on her face eased into one that could only be described as smoldering in a state of heightened anticipation.
And that was only in response to his hand on her thigh. What would those pouty lips do, those eyes; how would her sultry expression lift and flex and smile, as he penetrated her, he wondered? She was so responsive, he couldn’t wait to find out what her ‘O’ face looked like as he filled her tight sheath and kept thrusting and grinding until she climaxed all over his hard cock.
“More importantly,” she breathed, stealing some semblance of focus from whatever unspoken, sensual conversation was taking place between his hand and her thigh. She cleared her throat, blinked her eyes a few times, perhaps to center herself away from the tingles he was sure were dancing across every inch of her skin right about now. “I’ll not be made a laughing stock.”
That got his attention and he straightened up, looking at her with a fair amount of shock.
“Don’t give me that look like you have no idea what I’m talking about,” she scolded.
But he didn’t.
“If we’re together in the public eye,” she explained. “Then I don’t want to read headlines about how you cheated on me with some kind of rooftop bimbo.”
“We call them ‘starfuckers’,” he said, but she didn’t find it funny.
“I know all about Jamison Holt,” she went on in a tone that asserted he’d never be able to pull the wool over her eyes in this department. “I know all about his sexcapades and I feel terrible for his poor wife.”
“Who probably looks like a laughing stock,” he supplied, completely understanding her concern.
“I’m a person,” she insisted. “I’m a good person who comes from a good, hard working family.”
“I can see that,” he offered, but it wasn’t enough.
“No, you don’t see it, because I haven’t shown you yet, but I’m going to,” she told him hotly.
“Okay.”
She was getting emotional and it only made him want to hold her.
“Hey,” he said softly, getting her to look him in the eye. She’d been fiddling with her cross and sipping wine, her gaze resting unseeingly on the coffee table. “This might be a contracted relationship,” he admitted, “but it’s real to me.”
“It is?” she asked, hope thick in her small voice.
“It really is. When I saw you in The White Rabbit, I felt…”
He trailed off, unsure if it’d be way too much too soon to tell her how he’d felt in that moment, but if Zach was too scared to be that vulnerable, Abby wasn’t. She finished his thought, supplying, “A connection?”
“Yeah.” He searched her eyes for a long moment before going on. “I know I have a certain… reputation and I’m not going to sit here and try to convince you that I’m anything like my character Brian on Hashtag Blessed, because I’m not that guy. But I’m also not the guy you think. You want to show me who you are? Well, I want you to see who I am, too. Hell, I want to see who I am, because I’ll be straight with you, I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, and that’s what this is for me. It’s serious and real for me and I’ll prove it to you.”
Her voice was wind over reeds, “You will?”
Zach inched even closer to her on the couch, plucked her wine glass out of her trembling hands and set it on the coffee table, then slid his large hand under her gorgeous, auburn hair, grazing her neck, until he was cupping the nape of her head.
Her lips parted and the slightest moan—a mere breath—escaped.
Tilting her head so their noses wouldn’t collide, he drew near and pressed his mouth against hers.
Gentle. Soft. Unwavering. He held his lips to hers and for a long moment they just breathed together.
He pulled back and looked at her as her eyes heavily opened, her mouth still pursed. He caressed her cheek with his other hand, drinking in the sight of her and feeling what had to be the millionth grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and when she smiled back, he closed the gap between them once again.
Lips to lips. But this time he probed her, his tongue breaching between her hot lips, licking and tracing her velvety curves. He inhaled deeply, deepening their kiss and loving her feminine scent—sw
eet as wild flowers laced with the salt of her skin, all under a fresh blanket of citrus.
Another little moan escaped her, this one in protest as he drew back to again look at her. She was so damn pretty, he couldn’t figure out which he wanted more, to look at her or feel her fully with his eyes closed…
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“I might have to,” he groaned, feeling his hardening erection strain against his jeans.
“Why would you have to stop?” she asked so innocently that it caused his dick to grow even more.
He let out a deep, breathy laugh, debated cluing her in, and decided to give her what she wanted. She didn’t need to know…
But man, those sounds she was making, he thought as their tongues slid and grazed, lips brushing and pressing in a playful, deepening kiss. He hoped his inner caveman didn’t take over. Everything about Abby was making him primal, and if any more blood rushed down to his already engorged cock, there would be no telling what he’d have to do to her to get some serious relief.
“Damn,” he groaned, his kisses getting aggressive, forceful, hungry in a way she was responding to, her body warming and loosening to his touch as if she wanted it too. Needed the same kind of relief that only sweaty fucking would provide. “I want to pull your panties down with my teeth.”
Her moan swirled into melodic laughter at that and the next thing Zach knew, Abby was urging him back, her palms against the firm wall of his chest as she said, “Then let’s just talk.”
Awesome.
More talking.
It was exactly what any man in his position would want to do…
But for Zach, actually, it was.
Chapter Ten
Abby had some serious pep in her step and it hadn’t let up all morning as she went about her daily duties at Tate & Cane, scheduling and organizing and assisting Olivia, who was polished and poised as ever.
Abby had woken like a lark, springing out of bed twenty minutes before her alarm was meant to sound, Zach Canning and the wonderful, up-until-dawn conversation they’d shared at the forefront of her mind. As she’d showered, she’d replayed their moments of laughter. As she’d buttered her toasted bagel before popping it in her mouth, juggling her purse and keys and metro card to get out of the door on time, she’d smiled to herself, remembering how guarded Zach had seemed at first when she’d asked him about life in LA before he’d made it big, and how he’d gradually opened up, becoming serious and telling her tales of canned beans and rice and hopelessness, of sleeping in his car when he’d gotten evicted, of his family, who knew he was struggling but hadn’t cared enough to pick up the phone, not until he was famous without a financial care in the world, then all of a sudden they’d loved him.
It had been gut-wrenching and heartwarming to hear, and it had also greatly endeared her to him. She felt for him. Abby’s family was tightknit. Every Sunday, without fail, they gathered at her Ma and Pop’s house on Ocean Parkway for dinner. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Zach to be abandoned and forgotten just because he had it in him to follow his dreams. Abby’s parents had only been supportive of her, concerned at times, stern at others, but supportive nonetheless.
With Zach bouncing around the forefront of her mind to the back of her mind and sometimes lingering in the side of her mind, taking up some serious real estate—the best part about their hours-long, private conversation last night was that as they’d talked, he’d held her, first playing with their laced fingers then locks of her auburn hair, but never turning their comfortable position into foreplay or suggesting she show him her bedroom, he’d been so respectful!—Abby couldn’t wait to see him again after work. It seemed that from the second she sprang awake this morning, she’d been dying for the workday to be over already so she could be with him. The lingering goodbye kiss they’d shared as the rising sun had brightened the living room, Zach’s limo waiting for him on the street below, had felt like a promise. A promise that no matter what, no matter how pushy Darlene got or how swarmed by photographers they became, they were both committed to making this work.
It was the most incredible feeling.
Abby felt like her prince charming had arrived.
Her knight in shining armor.
The glass slipper fit.
And her very own Cinderella story was slowly but surely transforming her life.
She didn’t mind strangers and co-workers alike coming up to her to ask about her and Zach like she had the other morning. She didn’t mind seeing her face plastered all over tabloids and magazines, even the ones in the anteroom coffee tables of Tate & Cane where their clients waited at Reception. What a difference a day made. One night with Zach and everything about her world was suddenly bright.
And he hadn’t even touched her.
Abby couldn’t imagine what kind of cloud-nine slice of heaven stratosphere she would be floating off into if she actually went all the way with Zach, lost her virginity, bonded with him in the most physical, and for Abby, spiritual way.
What was she talking about, ‘if’?
When!
There was no question, she thought, smiling to herself as she padded into Olivia’s office with the stack of files she’d requested over G-Chat moments ago. Abby was going to lose her virginity to a man she was pretty sure she’d fallen in love with at least a little bit last night. She was beaming at the thought, which must have been contagious because within a matter of seconds, Olivia was smiling at her as well from where she sat behind her sleek, glass desk.
“Care to share with the rest of the class?” asked Noah, her husband, who was angled over Olivia and trying to read something on her computer. His mouth was tugging into a curious grin as he looked from his wife to Abby and back again as if trying to figure them out.
“Just happy to be here,” said Abby, and Olivia immediately backed her up.
“This is how all Tate & Cane employees look,” she mentioned playfully as she took the stack of files Abby had brought in. “At least when they work directly for me.”
“Ah,” said Noah probably knowing any inside joke among ladies would not so easily be spilled.
He gave Olivia a kiss on her temple before wishing Abby a good day and starting off through the office. They were the best married couple. Well, besides Ma and Pop, but the great thing about Olivia and Noah was that they worked together. They worked well together. There was something incredibly sexy about that. It was rare and amazing and when Abby tied the knot with Zach in—gulp!—a matter of days, she wanted to feel like he wasn’t just her spouse, but her true partner, someone she could do anything with, just like Olivia and Noah.
She would have that, she told herself. Absolutely.
“I’m glad to see things in your personal life are going well,” Olivia said knowingly as she indicated the smile that hadn’t waned from Abby’s face.
Caught off guard, Abby was momentarily flummoxed.
“I’ve seen Hashtag Blessed,” Olivia mentioned as if this were the most casual conversation in the world. “I’ve also seen the news stand on the corner of 5th and Canal.”
“Right,” she responded a bit bewilderedly. Olivia wasn’t a mind reader or some kind of psychic. She was human. It was easy to forget that considering her power and beauty. “I won’t let it affect my work, I can assure you.”
“I’m not concerned with that,” she said easily before adding, “mind shutting the door?”
“On my way out?” Abby guessed as she retreated.
“So we can speak privately,” she clarified.
“Oh,” she breathed, closing the door as she’d been asked and returning to awkwardly sit in the posh chair across from her boss, who was embarking on what Abby could only assume would be a personal conversation.
“I had an arranged marriage,” she began. “Not sure if you were aware of that.”
Abby felt her whole body go rigid. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead.
How did she know?
Or w
as Abby being paranoid? Maybe Olivia divulged this tidbit to all her assistants?
“I didn’t know that,” she said honestly.
“It’s true. Strange but true. It was a corporate strategy on the parts of both my father and Noah’s father, and if we didn’t want to keep this company alive, we could’ve easily declined. But here we are,” she said, gesturing to the room at large, a beautiful smile spreading across her face. “I signed the contract before I was sure about Noah. It was probably the biggest leap of faith I ever took.”
Abby felt like Olivia was telling her Abby’s story. That’s exactly what it had felt like signing the Christian Network contract—a leap of faith. She was so tempted, even more so than the other day, to break confidentiality, completely disregard the countless non-disclosure agreements she’d signed not to mention breach the actual contract that had sealed her fate, and feel for one second like she could share this secret.
But she couldn’t.
So, she cautiously asked, “Is there something you know that I don’t know?”
“I think we both know the same thing, Abby.”
Hmm, she tried again. “Do I not know that you know something you probably shouldn’t know?”
Olivia let out a little chuckle. “You don’t need to speak in riddles. Nothing that’s said here is going to leave these four walls. And hey,” she added, gauging Abby’s extreme discomfort, “you don’t have to say a thing, but yes, I know.”
“How?”
“One day you’re a nose-to-grindstone, zero social life, mild-mannered, cross-wearing Catholic girl and the next you’re featured on the cover of every major celebrity news magazine next to one of the biggest television stars since Taylor Lautner? Honey, this is a marketing firm. I know strategic PR when I see it.”
Abby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry she was so relieved not to have to carry the weight of this secret any longer. Then it occurred to her…
“Do you think everyone knows? Is it that obvious?”
Would her parents know? Her brother?
Zach was going to meet them tonight. What if…?
