Текст книги "Bad Boy's Baby"

Автор книги: Sosie Frost

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

He realized it too. He turned, rubbing his head.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Shay.”

He apologized.

He never apologized, not in the weeks we spent together. I shut my mouth, but he groaned, sitting back on the couch.

“Sorry. I’m not feeling right. I have a headache…” He pressed his lips tight. His face had paled, but he didn’t let me speak. Was that why he stayed in the theater? It was one of the few comfortable and dark rooms in the house. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I think you did.” And I think I deserved it.

“Why did you really come to talk to me?” Zach said. “I can’t see straight. Don’t ask me to read between the lines now.”

“It’s nothing,” I lied. “I have some aspirin in my bathroom. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

I cleared my throat. “That’s not an invitation to the bedroom.”

He smirked. “Yet.”

“Keep dreaming, loverboy.”

“Every night, Shay. Every night.”

I didn’t have the courage to tell him I dreamed it too.

I ignored the rapid-fluttering that lumped my heart in my throat. I hoped I’d choke on it before I admitted what I was feeling.

So much for being responsible.

So much for ending whatever it was we had.

So much for me ignoring what happened in the pool.

I poked the carpet with my toe. At least it was plush and cushy because when I fell for him, I would fall hard.

And I think I already struck the ground.

Chapter Twelve – Shay

The only time I was ever called to the principal’s office, I was thirteen, Dad had just left us, and I thought I was edgy because I cut class.

Momma came down to the school equipped. She beat me with a wooden spoon before we even left the principal’s office. It cracked in half by the time we got to the parking lot, and then she drove my ass to the store and made me buy her a plastic one. It didn’t have the same whack, but I never got in trouble again.

Except now, apparently. And getting summoned to the principal’s office when you work at the school is an entirely different kind of humiliation. I wished for the spoon. Hell, I’d have asked for the whisk.

I wasn’t in trouble for cutting class. This time, I was getting completely, royally, and utterly screwed.

I waited for their judgements.

The principal was an old Harvard elite who got lost on his way back to Connecticut and settled in Georgia instead. He mumbled over his papers.

The teacher I shadowed, Mrs. Bradley, was a proper southern lady who had the first dollar her family ever earned framed on her wall—if only to show how old her money was. She hardly spoke to me during my brief stay in her classroom.

And, of course, Professor Sweeten was called from the college to attend. She arrived with her usual sparkling personality, though she finally cracked a smile through her stone-faced scowl.

She knew what was going to happen.

So did I.

And that made it so damn hard not to cry.

“Shay,” Principal Reid said. “It’s been a trying two weeks, hasn’t it?”

No. Not in the least. The kids were great, I handed my lesson plans in on time, and I arrived early and stayed late every day to assist Mrs. Bradley with her decorations. I even volunteered to help direct the first grade play—The Three Billy Goats Gruff. I did my work, and I did it well.

But Mrs. Bradley was good friends with Professor Sweeten. I realized it all too late.

“Unfortunately, Shay…” he said. “After speaking with Mrs. Bradley, it appears we might have a few...issues with your continued study here. This academy was designed to offer the very best educational experience for our students—experiences many children are not privileged to receive.”

I swallowed. “I understand the community’s expectations.”

“Then you understand. In order to facilitate our unique and elite environment, we can only recruit the very best and brightest to guide these children into their specific world. We have to be prepared to assist them with the challenges they will face within their status. It benefits the children to have a teacher who…encompasses their family’s social class.”

I was used to people judging me by the color of my skin, not the color of my blood. My father left me a billion dollars, and I wasn’t blue-blooded enough for these people?

It didn’t make sense, and Principal Reid knew it.

Professor Sweeten arched an eyebrow. “Shay, I’m sorry to say that your student teaching experience is counted as a pass or fail grade. I’m afraid we’ll have some very important matters to discuss at campus.”

“Wait.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “I…can’t transfer to another classroom?”

Professor Sweeten and Principal Reid both shared the same nauseating glance, the kind mentally delivered with a slap to the face and swift kick to the behind.

“Shay, I’m sorry,” he said. “Your services are no longer required at our academy.”

Don’t cry.

I told myself to shake his hand.

I ordered my feet to march me out of the office with my chin high until I hid in my car.

And I stopped at the first gas station I passed and bought ten candy bars—one for every day I worked at the school before Professor Sweeten destroyed my teaching career.

I managed one bite before the sugar coated my tongue in sticky, nougaty regret. I could buy all the chocolate in the world—or at least a large stake in the biggest company—but it wouldn’t make me feel better. It wouldn’t secure me a job.

It wouldn’t repair a dream shattered into so many fragments I nicked myself trying to glue it back together.

Professor Sweeten wanted to meet me at the campus. Well, she could take her syllabus and shove it in places not recommended in the student handbook. She humiliated me enough. I wasn’t letting her get in another strike while I still had chalk dust under my nails.

I pulled into the garage. The bays were mostly empty. Dad probably intended to fill the space with more cars and never got the chance. It was just me and Zach’s car and motorcycle.

And I was glad to see them. Since our blowout, Zach hadn’t been such an ass. In fact, I inadvertently called a truce during the past two weeks. I was too exhausted from waking at six, teaching, and coming back to do lesson plans. I couldn’t fight with him and instead accepted the apple pie he baked as an apology for his outburst.

I never watched anything as sexy as a six foot four Navy SEAL slicing up apples and pounding out a crust for a homemade pie. It tasted good, and I shoveled it in my mouth before I said something stupid. Or humiliating. Or entirely too revealing.

I tried to tip-toe out of the garage. No dice. He heard the door and called from the theater.

“Playing hookie already?”

He loved that I was student teaching, admittedly so he could imagine me as a school-girl. But now wasn’t the time. I didn’t know what to say.

I got fired.

You get a half-day when your dreams are destroyed.

Do I have enough money to build my own academy so I never have to deal with those douches again?

Actually, the last idea wasn’t too bad.

I leaned against the doorframe to the theater. Zach grinned at me. I didn’t understand it, but his dimples reassured me. Just his presence started to remind me of home.

It was still weird that he did crunches and pushups while watching his favorite shows, but I certainly didn’t mind spying on his toned muscles during the slower episodes. He winked as he pressed against the floor.

He constantly trained during his leave. I asked why his time off was so long. Apparently, he had a special arrangement. I figured it had something to do with his scars, but Zach did everything he could to avoid talking about those.

Zach finished a set of one-armed push-ups and toweled off, pausing his show.

“Tonight, Chef Orlando is preparing our dinner,” he said. “His representative says he’s known for his Latin influences. I thought tomorrow we’d let the Japanese-inspired chef take a turn, though I think you’re pretty set on Chef Vito.” He winked. “I won’t be upset if you say his spaghetti was better than mine.”

I gave a timid shrug. “His was a bit more…professional.”

“That’s why I’m paying him the big bucks.”

I smirked. Zach took the initiative and braved my wrath. He hired a chef, maids, and landscapers for the estate. I couldn’t argue. Suddenly, everything operated a lot smoother, cleaner, and our dinners were always on time. Money made things so much easier.

Except when no amount of money could buy a chance to achieve your life’s ambition. If I couldn’t buy a pallet of luck, maybe I’d send a personal assistant to appeal to the Dean instead.

“What’s wrong?” Zach lowered the chef’s menu. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I shook my head. “No. I just…I gotta…”

The slightest curl of his finger called me to the couch. I dropped next to him. He made a show of wrapping his arm over my shoulders and crossing his feet on the ottoman. I didn’t care how arrogant it was. It felt nice to be held. Hugged.

I curled against his chest and let myself mope for a long moment.

“That bad?” He asked.

“Worse.”

“Wanna talk about it? I’ve had my share of bad days.”

I bit my lip. “No. I’ll take care of it.”

“Shay. I want to help.”

Why did I believe him? I sighed. “I lost the student teaching position.”

“What?”

“My advisor and the teacher knew each other. They set it up deliberately, just to ruin me. My advisor thinks I was buying my way through the program.”

“That’s bullshit! Can you get a new position?”

“No. It’s a pass/fail credit. If my advisor hates me—which she does—she can screw me. I can’t do anything, the grades are up to her. And if the school doesn’t want me…”

“We can fight it.”

“I’ll have to transfer.”

“Advisors?”

I shook my head. “Colleges.”

“No way.”

“Sweeten will never pass me. I can’t get another teaching opportunity at the Academy, and she’ll never get another assignment. I have to transfer to another college…if my credits even count.” I pushed off the couch. Zach took my hand and pulled me down. “I gotta go take care of this.”

“You’re upset,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Let this simmer for a day. Maybe there’s something we can do. We’ll find a way to change your advisor and get you a new gig. It’s not over. Don’t worry.”

My lip trembled. I didn’t believe him. I sucked in a breath and tried to imagine anything else. Puppies. Good food. My favorite movie. My favorite kiss.

That one was easy. It was every kiss I ever had with Zach.

I’d have given anything to pretend that Zach wasn’t my step-brother, if only so I could lose myself in his arms for just a little while.

Bad ideas. All of it.

“What are you thinking?” Zach asked.

Nothing I could answer honestly. Too bad the lump in my throat was just as painful to talk about.

“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher,” I said. “Life goal.”

“You’ll get there.”

“And if I don’t? One bad professor today could be one awful administration tomorrow and one demented school board a year from now. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I wanted to be there for the kids.”

“Why?”

“In case no one else was there for them.”

His arm tightened over me. I sighed.

“When I was little, Momma was always yelling, and Dad was usually off with some new floozy on the side. They were both miserable, and they took it out on each other. And I was in the middle. Alone.”

Zach toyed with my curls. “Yeah. I get that.”

“When I got older, I realized instead of feeling sorry for myself, I could prevent a child from feeling that same way. I wanted them to know they were loved. What better way than to be a teacher?”

“You’ll make a good one.”

“And if it never happens?” I said.

“It will.”

“You never know.” I held his gaze. “What happens if everything you ever worked for in your entire life is suddenly…gone? Completely out of your control. Nothing you can do to prevent it?”

Now Zach looked uncomfortable. He shifted against the couch. I pulled away.

“Sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t lay this all on you. I know what you’re gonna say. And you’re right. Look at my bank account. Why should I teach when I could have a home in the Maldives? I get it.”

His jaw tensed. His dimples faded. “No. Some things you can’t buy with money. Look, Shay. I don’t have an answer for you because I don’t know. You can train and spend your life thinking things are gonna work out. And then?” He flexed. The scars over his arms shimmered in the faint light. “It can all be over.”

“Zach—”

“It won’t be that way for you,” he said. “I won’t allow it to go down like that.”

I sighed. “It’s sweet, but I gotta do this on my own.”

“Why?”

“It’s…my job. My career.”

He didn’t let me look away. “You know you aren’t alone. Not now.”

My heart fluttered a bit too hard. I swallowed.

“I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“So you don’t need any help now?”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

His voice edged. Apparently, other parts of him could get hard too. His words. His dedication. His promises. “And if I want to protect you?”

The conversation shifted. I bit my lip. We weren’t talking about teaching or life goals or insecurities anymore. We broached a very dangerous subject, and stress already kicked my butt from one side of the county to the other. I didn’t have the strength to fight him too.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. “Really.”

“A chance.”

“To get in bed with me?”

“That and more.”

Bed didn’t scare me as much as more. I had been resisting our fling for so long, I never once questioned the pounding of my heart over the tightening in my core.

“It’s not a good idea,” I said.

“Says who?”

Society? No. That wasn’t true. We made for dirty gossip, but nothing else. Our families? That was a joke. Neither of us had one anymore. We were as much family as anyone.

Says Me?

I thought it was a bad idea to trust a man who lied the first night we were together—either to get lucky or get money. Both reasons were equally bad, but neither seemed to fit Zach. Hell, I started to think the only reason he lived at the estate was for the pool.

Or because I lived here.

My blood scalded me, still heated from the last time I touched him, the last time I let him touch me. The pool jet wasn’t half as exciting as his hands.

“One chance, Shay.” Zach’s voice was the whipped, creamy topping to my mocha grace. “That’s all I ask.”

“You’re my step-brother.”

“Baby, no one’s gonna see the family resemblance.”

His lips touched mine. Tenderly. More a question for me to answer than a permission for him to continue. His calloused hands touched my cheek. He was right. Together, we looked like any other couple. Dark and light, petite and strong, timid and flirty.

I knew what I wanted.

I also knew it was quite possibly the worst idea I had since the day I antagonized my advisor.

But now—with the lights low and Zach’s touch, his gentle kiss and my horrid day—a little attention sounded good.

Right.

Perfect with him.

Besides, my body wouldn’t have listened to my head anyway. Not after he touched me.

Held me.

Pulled me into his lap.

I groaned and almost exposed everything I tried to keep hidden from him. So much for scolding myself into chastity. If a kiss revealed my deepest desires, then the flick of my tongue invited him into my darkest fantasies, tied his ass to a chair, and whispered every naughty secret I ever imagined into his ear.

I straddled his lap, threading my fingers behind his neck. His hair, blonde and buzzed, tickled under my touch. During our one night together, our time was experienced in frantic and desperate intensity. We didn’t savor or explore. Each second spent parted from the other was a pleasure lost.

I had no idea I’d eventually end up in his lap again. I never expected the warmth of his lips on my throat. I hadn’t hoped for his powerful fingers to unbutton my blouse.

I dreamed of him. Of parts of him. Of the greatest fullness and most deliberate lust ever gifted to me.

And now? I had him again. And he was the man I remembered.

Strong. Charming.

And—above all else…

Hard.

I ground my hips against his waist. The thickness in his pants had absolutely no give, just as solid as any of the marble columns supporting the mansion. I was no better. Every part of me burned for him. A heat built in my belly, and I ached—actually whimpered—to feel this man over me.

The blouse opened. Zach brushed it off my shoulders. His huge hands pressed against my waist. He kissed the timid peek of my shoulder as the shirt fell to the ground. His lips caressed over the soft darkness of my skin. My bra’s strap slipped. His fingers worked the other.

The material fell away with a skilled squeeze of his hand against the clasp. I straightened as my breasts bared. He stared at the little chocolate buds that tightened under his attention.

“So beautiful.”

His words muffled as he took a nipple into his mouth. He suckled hard against my breast, as if I’d dare to take them away from him. The sensation rocked me to my core. I mewed, clenching at his shoulders. I puffed my chest out, offering him the rest. The dark caramel of my skin pressed against his pale cheek. God, we looked so good together.

“Christ, Shay, you have no idea what you do to me.”

I wiggled against the straining beast throbbing in his jeans. “I have an idea.”

“You have a preview.” He grinned. “My nickname is flattering, but it doesn’t do me justice.”

“What should I call you then?”

God, he was strong. In a single movement, he stood and rested me against the couch. He kneeled between my legs, his fingers aimed for my skirt. The waistband tugged down.

“Call me Desire. Pleasure.” He winked. “Gifted. Take your pick.”

I never would have swallowed such a line if I hadn’t experienced him before. I remembered what his smart mouth could do to that crest, where he gloated and teased with warm breath and warmer words.

“You don’t believe me?” He asked.

His kisses layered over the hem of my panties. I swallowed. “I believe you.”

“Are you sure? You sound hesitant.”

I didn’t need to wear the little lacey panties to work, but the red, tempting silk was selected just for this moment. I prepared for the split second where I dropped both my guard and my pants and decided to let what happen, happen with no regrets and perfect bliss to guide me.

“No hesitations,” I said. The panties peeled down. Too slow. I whined. “I’ll call you whatever you want.”

“Let’s start with…Generous.”

His eyes flashed a mischievous green. The panties rolled over my legs, and he spread my thighs. Two weeks ago, I might have fought him. I might have covered my slit with my hand, hiding the slickened and puffy folds from his view. But Zach rewarded me for being so forward. With gentle, tender, agonizingly slow kisses, he trailed a path of excitement from my navel and lower.

“Jesus fuck, you’re so goddamned beautiful.” Zach’s words muffled between kisses, his lips drawing ever closer to that sensitive, waiting, aching spot. “All dark and bare. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to taste you again.”

About as long as I had been dying to feel it. I squirmed, hoping he’d get the message.

Zach grinned. “Tell me you want me, Shay.”

No indecision. “I want you.”

“Tell me you’ve been thinking about it.”

Every waking moment. “Zach, please.”

“Ask me to do it.”

“Please lick me, Zach.”

“If I didn’t know how freaky you could get…” His eyebrow rose as his mouth lowered just above where I needed it the most. “I’d think you were being shy.”

“I am shy,” I whispered. “You do something crazy to me.”

“You never have to hold back with me, baby. I’ll give you everything you can take.”

I believed him. My hips bucked as a single lick of his tongue traced every fold of my slit. He groaned. My head lowered, resting against the soft leather of the couch.

He dove forward, surging into my aching core and licking, lapping, tasting the slickness that shamed me—revealed me—in his presence.

I couldn’t hide how much I wanted Zach. And I couldn’t convince myself that it was a bad idea because he was my step-brother or because he had a nickname that proved his damning reputation.

But right now? With my legs spread wide, his pale fingers digging into my dark thighs, the flick of his pink tongue against my waiting petals...he treated me like I was the first, only, and last woman he would ever touch.

The trace of his lips along my sensitive skin rolled wave after wave of shivers through my core. I wound up, tight, jerking my hips in the imaginary rhythm of his cock. My pussy clenched. I wanted something more than his tender kisses on the outside of my slit.

I needed him inside me.

With me.

Holding me.

“Zach—”

“You have no patience, baby.” His smile grew. He licked his lips. He licked me off his lips. “I like that.”

I didn’t have time to respond. He dove between my legs, spread me wide enough to reveal everything, and aimed right for that perfect button that I’d grazed with my fingers this morning in the shower. I fantasized about this moment, this naughtiness, this desire.

Zach was better than any of my dirty little thoughts. His tongue flattened against my clit, lapping me up with long, forceful strokes. He watched how badly my body trembled for him. Each lick bound me tighter, cramping me from the inside out. My fingers clenched against the leather of the couch.

His lips captured my clit.

He suckled.

One. Two. Three deep strokes of his sucking and pressing pleasure, and every single problem and conflict, humiliation and pain, concern and fear of my day evaporated in an instant. My life faded into the tiniest, smallest, most concentrated pinprick of sensation. He drew a long lap against my slit, and the world exploded, reformed with shudders and lit with the stars that blinded my vision.

“Zach!” I thought I shouted. My voice cradled in a whisper. I shook and twisted. He didn’t release me. “Wait! I can’t—”

He didn’t believe me. His lips unsealed from the little swollen nub he so expertly flicked and tormented. The draw of his tongue lowered, finding my entrance and savoring the slickness that overwhelmed my slit, my thighs, my core.

God, I would have been so embarrassed had I not needed to feel his mouth so badly.

I wove my fingers behind his head. He liked that. So did I. I pulled him close and held him to my aching slit, my lips moving in silent prayer as his tongue entered the tightness that needed something much more than his devouring lick.

I wanted something bigger.

Thicker.

Hard.

No wonder he had the nickname. No woman could resist the clenching emptiness so near his dusty scent, the prickle of his chin’s stubble against the soft folds between her legs, the hum of his excitement as he suckled and tempted her desire.

“Please…” I whispered. “Please…”

“You want me?”

“God, yes.”

“You sure?”

I nodded. I released his hair if only to rub my own body, to ease whatever heat ached inside me. I held my beasts and squeezed. Who knew how wanton and terrible it looked, but Zach stoked the outside of his jeans, teasing the bulge waiting for me.

This was more than a simple one-night stand.

This was the beginning of something…different. Complicated. Absolutely messy and risky and probably the worst decision of my life.

But Zach made bad decisions feel right, turned complications into an adventure, and forged an unrepentant desire.

Worse…he made the forbidden seem forgivable.

“Take me,” I said. “Fuck me. I want to be yours.”

If only for one night.

Zach’s grin wasn’t the boyish charm he lathered over me. This was a man’s excitement, a hunter’s mark, a waving flag to begin the race...even if I thought I headed in the wrong direction.

He popped the button on his jeans, removing the little foil packet before kicking them away.

“SEALs are like boy scouts?” I didn’t fault his assumption. I was glad he had the foresight, even with the pill I popped every morning.

“Just wishful thinking.”

He pulled me to the end of the couch, but I stopped him before he spread my legs. I slid to the floor and pushed him to sit instead.

“Oh, fuck, Shay.”

He didn’t have time to protest or ask for anything more. I hadn’t tasted his cock in weeks. There was only so much a girl could take, especially when he teased me with it every damn day.

His cock throbbed in my hand. I curled my fingers over it. They couldn’t touch over his shaft. A thin tease of arousal trickled from the tip. I greedily lapped it up, watching as Zach collapsed against the couch, hands behind his head. His cock twitched.

He tasted so good. Looked so good. Every muscle in his body tensed as my lips lowered over his cock. I drew him in deep, pumping with my hand to watch the quiver of his hardened abs with the teasing tug. He groaned as I swallowed as much of his length as I could, which wasn’t nearly enough. We both knew it. My body superheated at the thought of stuffing every last inch of him within me. He hardened even more.

My lips popped from the head. I lazily licked the underside, feeling the heat rushing through the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. He curled his fingers in my hair and drew me away.

“Got something better for you,” he said.

I believed him. The foil packet ripped open as I settled over his lap. He hadn’t expected me to get on top, but I didn’t trust him not to screw around. I needed him. I needed it. My body trembled with shivers so painful I feared I’d collapse on his chest and weep. He let me take control, repeating his profanity as I lowered myself onto his slick cock.

The head nudged at my entrance. I held my breath and wiggled.

Bigger than I remembered

So much bigger.

But absolutely perfect.

I sunk down and forced my body to take all of him in a single, deliberate, beautiful thrust. My gasp threaded into a shocked mew. Zach’s whisper was the same. His hands clutched at my hips, fingers digging into my skin too roughly. I didn’t care.

Nothing else mattered except the absolute filling of his cock. How I stretched. How I made room for the only man who ever stirred me to such a quick passion.

My hips bounced. Zach groaned.

I was lost.

His hard, pulsing thickness overwhelmed me. I rose up only to sink back down as quickly and deeply as I could. I clutched at his shoulders and collapsed upon the solid definition of his chest. He held me just as tightly. Rocked his hips to meet mine. Moaned the same words. Breathed the same panting relief.

I had denied him for too long, knowing full well exactly how it would end and how wrong it was and how much heartache it could create.

But now? Just for a moment—just for a perfect few minutes of beautiful agony, satisfaction, and comfort—I’d take him.

I forgot that he was my step-brother. I ignored the inheritance and will. I even remembered the day he first approached me. He admitted to realizing who I was only once he buried inside me, but who in their right mind would stop?

No one ever desired me that much. No one ever admitted to such attraction, such passion.

And I never felt the same for anyone else.

All I wanted was a quick romp, another mistake to regret in the morning.

I ground against him. Forced him deeper. Cried out his name. This was more than a mistake. I had no idea if I’d ever regret it.

My motions slowed. Zach refused to stop. He stood without pulling from me, balancing my weight against his waist and easily carrying me, completely impaled on his length. I gripped him tighter. He grinned, moving my hips in a feat of strength that nearly made me explode right then and there.

But he growled. It wasn’t enough for him.

Zach tossed me onto the couch, grabbed my ankles, and spread my legs. I hardly had time to whimper before his thickness sliced inside me once more. He leaned over my body, letting my hand run over the bulging muscles in his arms, chest. He sunk against me, stealing a kiss as he thrusted as deeply as he could stuff his cock.

Again and again he took me, bringing me to a brink of utter intensity. His thrusts slammed through me, and I eagerly arched to offer him more. My breath panted his name.

“Shay…come with me.”

The greatest words anyone ever spoke to me. I didn’t have to nod, think, or act. I was already there, coasting that fine line between pleasure and insanity. I gripped him, held him, welcomed him as he jerked his hips.

One solid pound was all he needed.

All I needed.

We broke together in a blended, perfect ecstasy. His kiss muffled my words, and that was good. I had no idea what I would say if he had let me speak, let me think the words, let me feel not only what stretched and pleasured and filled, but what warmed deeper in me.

I gripped his shoulders and pressed him harder against me. His cock wasn’t enough. His tongue circled mine. I crested with him over me, holding me, inside of me in ways only he could fill. My heart surged. My muscles rent.

And nothing so perfect had ever layered me in such bliss.

It was as though a gentle curtain of serenity pulled over us. Sound faded. The lights dimmed. And everything that teased me amplified into such crippling pleasure I nearly wept against his hardened body.

Zach held me close, guiding me through the shivers, murmuring his own words that I couldn’t hear even if I wanted.

Anything we said to each other would reveal too much. Such a raw and uncompromising passion exposed everything.

And so we laid in a quiet peace.

Rested in the others’ arms.

And damned the consequences for another time.

A time that would come all too soon.