Present day, Leavenworth: Zac
HowdidIgetso fucking lucky?
Zac’s thoughts ran wild as he pressed Tabitha up against the sliding door of his van. She purred in approval as his hips settled against her, one knee poised between her legs. He didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve her. But he wasn’t foolish enough to turn down the gift she was offering. He reached up into her hair and tugged the band holding her ponytail in place. Autumn red silk spilled over her sun-kissed shoulders. He found himself jealous of the strands tickling at her collarbone and brushed them aside so he could take over. She moaned under his nips and kisses. And, god, she tasted sweet. Exactly the same as his fantasies from years ago. No that was wrong, she was better. Sweeter. Headier.
Tabitha arched her back into him, aching for more contact. Just like him. He wanted to touch all of her with all of him and thought he might go mad if he didn’t do so soon. Twining one arm firmly around her waist to hold her close, the other fisted in her loose hair. The silk of it played through his fingers and he guided her lips to his. He traced the line of them and steadied his knees as she parted them with a sexy little sigh.
Fuck.
This woman was a goddess.
And he had the privilege of touching her. Feeling her. Tasting her.
He dipped his tongue into her mouth and she opened wide, welcoming him inside. He pressed hard against her lips to delve and explore, until a little whimper escaped her. One sounding vaguely pained.
“Tabby cat?” he asked, relaxing the press but still speaking with his lips on hers. “Are you ok?”
She nodded vigorously. “It’s the beard—”
“I’ll shave it immediately,” he swore to her.
“No,” she trailed her fingers along his cheeks and into the wiry mass. “No. Please don’t. I’ve never . . . experienced a man with facial hair.”
The desire to park his face between her legs reached critical mass. He wanted to rub his facial hair all over her body just so she could tell him where it tickled the most. What she liked best so he could do it over and over and over and until he dropped dead from exhaustion.
“Do you want to go inside?” he asked, already reaching for the handle.
“Yes. Very much,” she practically begged.
Zac squatted down and heaved Tabitha over his shoulder. She squealed in delight and then again when he slapped her rear playfully. The door slid open and he hauled her inside. Mercifully, he didn’t have far to go to find a bed. He applauded his choice to deck out the Sprinter to his exact specifications as he tossed her down on the mattress. They were both tall and would benefit from the custom oversized bed.
Before joining her, he stripped off his fitted henley and tossed it aside. She tracked the movements as though hypnotized. She barely raised her eyes from his pecks and let out a hysterical little laugh.
“Those are new too.” She whistled.
He crawled onto the bed, prowling like a beast going in for the kill. “Are you saying I was scrawny back then?”
“Not at all.” She gasped as he grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her toward him. The hem of her dress rode up, barely covering her panties. Zac was desperate to find out what kind they were. Lace? Cheekies? Cotton with a sweet little design? Nothing? The mystery was killing him. “You were young. Lean and strong but with not nearly as much bulk.”
She raised a hand and brushed it over the swath of chest hair before trailing it over and flicking his nipple. As though his dick weren’t hard enough as it was. His pants felt so fucking tight. He wanted them off, but he wanted something else first.
Zac backed off the bed.
“Where are you going?” The near panic in Tabitha’s voice had him chuckling.
“Only right here,” he assured. “But you’re coming with me.”
He slid his hands beneath her knees again and pulled so her ass nearly hung off the edge of the bed.
“For beard experiences?” she asked sheepishly.
“Exactly.” He stood over her and leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips. “Is that ok?”
She nodded so hard he thought her head would roll off her neck.
He grinned wide with relief and decided to take the long way around.
Feather-light kisses teased along her jaw and neck. He lingered to kiss the erratically pumping vein below her ear, thinking better of leaving her with a hickey to mark her as his. A love bite wouldn’t scream professionalism and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any public embarrassment. His tabby cat was a private woman and he’d respect that.
