He swallows hard.
His eyes never leave me.
And when I reach him...
Everything in the room feels charged.
Ready.
Waiting.
I stop right in front of him, still on my knees, still close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off his bare chest. Zach's eyes lift to mine slowly, like he's savoring every second of looking up at me.
I let the silence stretch — just long enough for his breath to hitch — before I lift my hand.
The can of whipped cream appears in his line of sight.
His inhale is sharp.
Immediate.
Visceral.
"Caroline..." His voice is low, almost warning, almost begging — he's not sure which yet.
I tilt my head, letting my hair fall to one side as I lean closer, close enough that my lips brush the air above his collarbone.
He swallows hard. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Why?" I let the word hang between us. "Is it working?"
Zach's gaze drops, then returns to my face. "Very much so."
I don't need to look down to know what he means—the tension in his body tells me everything.
"Mm, good." I bite my lower lip, and when our eyes meet again, something has changed in his.
The playfulness is gone, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His pupils have dilated so much I can barely see the color around them.
His jaw tightens.
His hands grip the sheets.
A muscle in his stomach jumps.
He's trying so hard not to touch me.
Trying even harder not to lose control too fast.
I lift the can and gently shake it once — a soft metallic rattle that makes his eyes flicker with something primal.
Then I smile — slow, wicked, deliberate.
"Lay back," I whisper.
He obeys without a single question, sinking deeper into the pillows, chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths. His gaze never leaves me, pupils blown wide, every line of his body coiled with anticipation.
Good.
