“Celebrating.” I smile. “I have officially entered the land of the employed.”
“Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I shift my weight from leg to leg. While a small portion of the alcohol has worn off, the majority of it is still in effect and I feel my body swaying in the light summer breeze.
A strand of my hair blows across my face and he reaches out to tuck it behind my ear. For whatever reason, the action seems more intimate than it should and my heartrate kicks into overdrive.
“Let me take you to dinner.” It’s more a command than a question.
I look down at my torn jeans and black tank top.
“Um, I'm not really dressed to go out,” I say, knowing the kind of places that he and Alec go to.
“You're perfect. Besides, I'll keep it casual, I promise. There's a great little pizza place around the corner. What do you say?”
“Okay.” My voice gets caught in my throat a little and the word comes out dry and forced. He smiles and steps off the last step, holding his arm out to me. I hesitantly slip my arm through his and let him lead me down the sidewalk.
“And you were right. I did miss you.” His confession causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach and even with the liquid courage flowing through me, I find myself scrambling for something to say that doesn't make me sound too desperate.
Since my mind can’t come up with anything at the present moment, I keep my mouth shut and my eyes forward.
“So who was that guy back at your apartment?” he asks, not disguising the hint of disgust in his voice. If I didn't know any better, I would say that he's jealous but then again, what would a man like Zayne Evans ever have to be jealous about?
“Carver. He's one of my best friends and he also happens to be my roommate.” I don’t miss the way Zayne's features tighten at my words.
When we arrive at the restaurant, I’m more than a little surprised by the rundown family owned pizza place in front of me. Zayne doesn't comment on my shocked expression and gently guides me through the door, his hand once again falling to the small of my back. I can't contain the shiver that runs through me with his fingers resting so close to the top of my ass.
Ferro's Pizza leaves a lot to be desired, but it has a very laid back feel and is comfortable, nothing like the stuffy restaurant I went to with Alec and Zayne. A few rundown booths line the walls, some chipped, old tables scattered throughout the middle, and a small counter lines the front. “What's your favorite?” Zayne asks, turning to face me.
Through my alcohol induced fog, it takes me a moment to realize he's asking me what kind of pizza I like.
“Whatever is fine but I prefer veggie.”
Zayne nods and walks to the counter to place our order while I pick a little booth on the far left hand side of the building. I stare out of the dark tinted windows trying to regulate my breathing when he slides into the booth across from me.
“I hope water is okay.” He sets a bottle in front of me.
“Water is perfect.” I screw off the cap and take a long gulp. I’m so completely nervous that I have no idea what to do with myself so I take another drink, trying to buy myself some time.
“So tell me about this new job.” He leans forward on his elbows, a curious expression on his face.
At first I consider lying but I decide against it. What's the point anyway? It's not like it really matters if he knows or not.
“I'm going to be playing music at a bar four nights a week.”
“That's amazing. Where at?”
I shake my head. No way in hell am I telling him where. That's all I need is for him to show up one night. Again, it's one thing to play in front of strangers. Playing in front of Zayne would be damn near impossible. I doubt I could remember one damn thing with his dazzling blue eyes on me.
“You're really not going to tell me?” he asks in disbelief.
“Nope. Besides, last time I checked we aren't friends so why do you even care?” The words I am thinking make their way from my mouth and I cringe at my own boldness.
“Fair enough.” He turns his gaze away from me to stare out of the window for a moment. At first I'm afraid I have offended him but a small smile turns up the corners of his mouth and his eyes find mine again. “And I only said I couldn't be your friend because I don't think I can just be your friend, Grace.”
I don't know what to say so I sit there, looking at him. It takes everything I have not to launch myself over the table and into his arms. Luckily, a freckled face teenager shows up with our pizza and the moment is over.
He doesn't say anymore on the subject and we spend the duration of our meal talking about him and Alec's business. I have always been very curious about what exactly they do. I know they develop applications for smart phones and tablets, but what kind of apps and how one goes about creating them is unknown to me.
Zayne is very open with me and tells me all about the process, though I don't understand most of it. From what I gather, Alec is more of the creator, supplying the ideas for the apps while Zayne is the tech. He's the one who actually turns Alec's ideas into reality. It seems like they have a pretty good system set up and I can tell by Zayne's reaction to my curiosity that he loves what they do.
By the end of our meal, I have eaten extremely too much veggie pizza and my alcohol buzz has officially left the building. While it feels good to have some sense of reality again, it's also a lot harder to face Zayne when I am sober. He makes me feel so many things all at once that my mind has a hard time trying to process it all and I usually end up coming across as a complete idiot. Or at least that's how I feel. He has this way of making me feel like I’m not worthy to be in his presence and it has nothing to do with anything that he does or says. It's just him.
As we are rounding the corner to my apartment building my phone sounds an incoming text message. I pull it out of the back pocket of my jeans and click on my messages. It's from Emma telling me that her and Carver headed out to grab a bite to eat and would be back later. It dawns on me that I never told Carver I was leaving, but apparently he assumed I had after I never came upstairs.
The knowledge that my apartment is completely roommate free for at least the next hour has my mind swirling with possibilities. Zayne walks me to the front door and before he can react, I blurt out, “Do you want to come up for a few?”
I immediately feel embarrassed for asking.
“Aren't your roommates home?”
“Carver and Emma went to grab a bite to eat. They won't be back for a little while,” I say, already regretting my decision to even bring this up.
“I probably shouldn't.” He pulls the door open for me.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, no biggie.” I try to brush it off, but it sounds forced and I doubt that he believes a word I am sputtering out. “I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner.” I breeze past him through the door.
“Grace.” His voice halts me after I’ve taken no more than a couple of steps. I hesitantly turn to see him walking through the door toward me. “I'm sorry. I would love to come up for a few. If that's still okay.”
“Yeah, okay.” I swallow the nervous knot that instantly finds its way into my throat.
I lead him to the elevators along the far right wall of the first floor. His hand falls to the small of my back as he ushers me inside, but this time I’m prepared for the electricity that sears my skin on contact.
The ride in the elevator is one of the most intense and uncomfortable moments I have ever experienced, the air thickening the second the doors close behind us, making it difficult to breathe. I can tell by the way Zayne's eyes avoid mine that he's feeling it too. Like at the restaurant, it takes everything I have not to close the tiny distance between us, but I think I've embarrassed myself enough in front of him for a lifetime already. No need to add to the countless things I wish I could take back.
I watch the buttons light up as we pass each floor, trying to distract myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Zayne
move, but before I have a chance to really react his hands are on me. “Zayne, what are you...” My sentence gets cut off as he pushes me back into the wall and presses his lips to mine.
His intoxicating scent overtakes all of my senses and I struggle to do something as natural as breathe. My heart hammers violently in my chest and I swear my knees literally shake under my weight.
Only seconds pass before the elevator jerks to a stop and the doors slide open. Zayne doesn't give me a chance to react to anything going on around me as he hoists my body up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“Keys,” he growls against my lips.
“Front pocket,” I pant out, pulling him impossibly close to me and running my tongue across his lower lip. I feel his rapid breath on my cheek as he reaches between us and manages to pull my keys from my pocket.
I don't have time to question how he knows which apartment is mine. The second he pushes us through the door, he slams it and pins my body against the hard wood, grinding his hips upward so that I can feel his arousal through my jeans.
“Zayne,” I pant against his mouth, not wanting him to stop but needing at least a second to process what the hell is going on here.
“No, Grace. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I’m done fighting it. I want you, damn it.” He growls against my mouth before dropping his lips to my neck, slowly licking and nipping at my flesh.
“I want you too. God, I want you.” I grab the sides of his face, pulling his mouth back to mine.
“Bedroom?” His voice is thick.
“To the left, last room.” I slide my tongue along his as I speak.
I don't know how, but he manages to get us all the way to my room without even so much as a stumble, with his lips never leaving mine.
When he kicks my bedroom door shut behind him and slides the lock into place, the fire that has been slowly building in my veins erupts into an inferno. Every touch feels too hot. Every kiss feels too intense. Everything feels like it's too much and yet it's everything that I want.
Chapter Five
“WAIT, I CAN'T DO THIS.” Zayne pushes himself up on his elbows to stare down at me. I'm pinned, my body pressed firmly between him and the mattress.
I’m practically naked below him, only my matching black bra and panties covering my most private areas. I cock my head to the side, questioning his ability to walk away now that he has me so ready and willing to give myself to him.
“I don’t want to make you feel like some cheap whore. You’re not that kind of girl,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “God this is so wrong on so many levels and yet,” he pauses, trailing his fingers down my cheek. “Fuck, Grace. I want you so bad.”
I reach up and trail my hands through his messy hair. Having my fingers running through it and pulling it for the last fifteen minutes has done nothing to the style. If nothing else, he looks even more irresistible.
“Then take me.” The words are barely audible but I know he catches them. I watch the understanding in his eyes. The moment that he realizes that I want this as much as he does.
“Fuck me, I'm going to hell for this,” he growls, taking my lips once more. I trail my hands down his back, feeling the way his muscles clench under my fingers. Grabbing the edge of his black shirt, I pull upward and he adjusts, breaking away from my mouth only long enough for me to slip the fabric over his head.
His kisses become more intense, his lips trailing down my jawline, his teeth nibbling at the sensitive flesh of my exposed neck. He pushes himself up, his hands falling to the waistband of his pants. He unbuttons them and slowly pulls the zipper down. My eyes are focused on his incredible body, his sculpted chest and impossibly defined abs. This man makes even the hottest men look ugly in comparison.
Everything about him is perfect. From his smooth flesh, to his rippling muscles, to his tribal tattoo. I trail my fingers down his chest and across his abs, committing every inch of his body to my memory.
When my eyes make it back to his face, I’m lost. His eyes are dark, deep pools of desire, sweeping across my body like I’m the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. I know it's a ridiculous thought but it's exactly how he makes me feel.
Every inch of my body burns for his touch. Every nerve ending stands to immediate attention. My entire body is a ball of anticipation of what's to come. There is no thought of the consequences of my actions, only the way I feel right here and now. For in this moment, no one else exists in the world. Zayne is mine and I am his and all I want is to feel him inside of me.
My bra and panties come off next as he slowly removes each article of clothing, his eyes never leaving my skin as each final inch is exposed. I feel like I should be more self-conscious with his eyes staring at my naked body, but I'm not. If anything, I feel more beautiful than I ever have.
By the time his pants and boxers finally make it from his body, my stomach is twisted so tightly in knots. The thought of actually being sick crosses my mind from the nervous energy pulsing through my body. I have never been so nervous yet wanted something so much at the same time.
Zayne gently presses his weight down on me, his lips finding mine again. Only this time, it's not the clothes ripping, can't wait another second kind of kiss. It's slow and hesitant and I can tell that he is struggling against what his body wants and what his mind believes to be wrong.
Hoping to squash some of his fears, I reach between us and wrap my fingers around his thick erection. The movement causes him to groan against my lips and moisture seeps from his tip. I take my time, studying the way he feels in my hand.
“I want this, Zayne,” I reassure him, lightly sliding my hand from the base to the tip and back again. “I want you.” I find his eyes.
I can see the last bit of reservation crumble in front of me as he finally admits defeat. There's no turning back now. He knows it as well as I do.
“Do you have a condom?” he asks, his breath hot on my face.
“I'm on birth control.”
Maybe it’s stupid for me to be so trusting with my body to someone who’s not much more than a stranger. But I do trust him. Maybe it’s because of Alec, or maybe it’s because deep down I don’t think he would ever do anything to put me in danger.
I guide him to my entrance and slowly run his tip along my folds. The action causes my insides to bubble and a ragged breath escapes his throat.
“God, Grace,” he moans, slowly pushing forward.
I pull my hand back and run it up his side before settling on the back of his head. I pull his lips down to mine and let my tongue glide across his lips before slipping into his mouth. I try to focus on the kiss. The way his mouth moves so skillfully against mine. The way he's tasting me, teasing me.
I feel an intense pressure as he slowly enters me. It’s been five years since I’ve been with someone like this and my body isn’t accustomed to it anymore. It almost feels like having sex for the very first time.
I grip the back of his head harder, my hands tangling in his hair as I try to calm the quake inside of me. My entire body is trembling beneath him and I don't know if it's from the intensity, the pain, or the sheer feeling of being with him in such an intimate way.
“You feel so good.” He groans against my lips as he begins moving slowly in and out. My body clenches around him as I try to accommodate his massive size. “Are you okay?” he whispers against my neck.
I can't form words. A slow moan making its way out of my mouth seems to be all the encouragement he needs as he moves into a steadier rhythm.
Eventually the pain subsides and there’s nothing left but pleasure. Deep, intense pleasure that has me biting down on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself quiet.
“I'm not gonna last, Grace. You feel too fucking good.” He plunges his tongue in my mouth.
His words send my body into overdrive and suddenly everything feels overly sensitive. Each touch causes my skin to prickle. Each motion causes the ache inside me
to swell until I feel like my body is going to rip apart and simply float away. I want to fight the build, the ache deep in my belly. I never want this incredible moment to end. The feeling of him inside me, of knowing that if only for just this one moment, Zayne is mine.
I feel him swell inside of me, the added pressure pushing me over the cliff that I’ve been dangling off of for several minutes. My entire body clenches around him and I cry out as my orgasm rips through me. Zayne falls right along with me and in seconds we are a pile of sweaty bodies and rapid breaths.
After a few moments, he pulls back to look at my face. “Did I hurt you?”
“You were perfect.” I reach up and push his hair away from his forehead.
He was more than perfect. This was more than perfect. It was more than I could have ever expected. It was the most intense and passionate experience of my life and even with him still on top of me, his erection softening inside of me, I find myself struggling to believe that it really happened.
And while for a brief moment Kyle crosses my mind, I do my best not to linger on the hint of guilt that sits heavily on my chest. Kyle would want me to be happy. He would want me to move on. And yet moving on, while easy to get swept up in the moment, isn’t something that just happens.
A slow smile creeps across his face, pulling me back to the present.
“You're going to be the death of me, Grace Morgan.” He gently takes my lips with his once more.
His mouth moves against mine slowly, tasting everything, and telling me so much more. There's a gentleness to this kiss that I haven't experienced with him before, and it leaves me feeling like I seriously underestimated the power this man has over me.
Eventually, he pulls out and rolls off of me, standing to slip on his boxers. “I'm sorry, Grace. I gotta go.” He steps into his pants before turning to face me.
“You're leaving?” I ask, not trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
The Way Back Page 9
