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 circular 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.”
C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN
Z
ACH 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 stopped 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.
Zach stared at her in silence for what felt like an eternity. Closing his eyes briefly, Laney watched as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His eyes opened and the cold, emptiness of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’re right, Laney. You want us to go back to hating each other, then that’s exactly what we’ll do. Now, if you could let yourself out so I can get back to my breakfast, I’d appreciate it.” He turned his back to her, emphasizing his dismissal. For a fraction of a second, she felt the urge to go to him, to apologize for her words.
Instead, she turned, heels in hand, and made her way out of his house. When she shut the door behind her, the sound echoed with such finality it made her feel as though she had just closed the door to something bigger.
* * *
Zach flung the omelet onto the plate on the counter before tossing the pan into the sink. The clanging sound of metal hitting the stainless steel kitchen sink echoed throughout the small home.
Fuck!
He closed his eyes as he braced his hands on the counter.
What the hell had he been thinking? He should have known better than to think Laney could ever come to see him as more than just a thorn in her side. But, no, a part of him had insisted that he maintain hope, believe that things could change. He’d finally had her in his arms, in his bed, and stupidly assumed she’d felt what had transpired between them. He was a world class moron.
“Motherfucker!”
“Well. That’s quite the greeting,” came a voice from behind him. Zach whipped around to see Lawson standing before him, eyebrows raised in question.
“I’m not really fit for company, man,” he told his friend as he turned back and began wiping the kitchen counters down roughly, his movements jerky.
“I can see that. I noticed Laney getting into her car—walk-of-shame style—nearly burning rubber trying to get out of the driveway. Any chance that might have something to do with your mood? And also your apparent desire to rub the counters free of their glossy finish, perhaps?”
Lawson’s typical humor fell flat with him this time. Tossing the sponge into the sink, he let out a long sigh. “Dude, I’m an idiot.” Zach turned back to face his friend, scrubbing his hands over his face wearily. “I really thought things had fucking changed.”
Lawson slid his hands in the pockets of his worn board shorts and leaned against the wall, watching him carefully.
With a humorless laugh, he threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell was I thinking? She only wanted ‘one night of fucking’.” He used air quotes, the words dripping in sarcasm. “Then, after she got what she wanted, she told me we could go back to hating each other. End of story.”
The two men were quiet for a moment before Lawson finally spoke, his voice unusually subdued. “Did you really think it was going to happen overnight, Z?” Lawson shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “I mean, it is Laney we’re talking about after all.”
Zach let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “I know, man. I realize how completely bogus it sounds when I admit it out loud. But, I just …” He trailed off with another shake of his head before running his hands over his face.
“I know, man. You got your hopes up. That’s what’s kicking your ass right now.”
“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ sound.
Lawson pushed off the wall to stand. “You feel like doing some last minute Christmas shopping with me? Nothing will cheer you up like being around the hustle and bustle of shoppers and hearing Christmas carols playing.” Lawson began singing Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” in an eardrum shattering high-pitched voice.
Zach’s hands shot up. “Stop. Please. I’ll go along if you promise not to sing that song.”