He helps without needing credit, and even with his own wounds, even after losing his mother in the most awful way, he still has a heart of gold.That is priceless.In a world where billionaires corrupt and ruin, Zach stands apart.He’s not cut from the same cloth, and that reassures me.
My phone buzzes, so I check it.Fleur has called six times.I quickly rush into the en-suite and call her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.I’m … great,” I whisper.
“Where are you?I called you a million times and you didn’t answer.”
“I’m still sorting things out,” I say, being vague again.
“Why are you whispering?”
“My … friend is still sleeping.”
“At least give me your address.Have you been kidnapped or held hostage?”
“Neither.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.How are you?”
She launches straight in, telling me about staying with Dave, about the chaos and the comfort of it all.Then she pauses to ask if I’m okay again.
“I am.I promise.”
She can sense I’m being deliberately obtuse, but she doesn’t push.She knows me too well.“We’ll talk later.Oh, I’m moving back in on the weekend.You?”
I didn’t want to think about that, but I saw the email from building management.The infestation has been taken care of and we’ve been given the go ahead to move back into our apartment.“I’ll move then as well,” I say, disappointment sitting heavy in my stomach.
I hang up and check out my reflection in the mirror.My hair is a mess, my skin flushed, and my eyes are bright and shiny.
I am happy.Blissfully so.
“What are you doing in here?”
Zach comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, his chest cradling my back.“It’s a weekday,” he murmurs, nibbling my earlobe, making me arch my back against him.“We should get ready to go to work.”
“We should.”I sigh in contentment, not wanting to think about work.Neither of us moves, but his hardness gently nudges into my lower back, his wet tip painting my skin.We could be late.Suspiciously so, if we don’t move now.His hand palms my breast, and I sense he, too, has other ideas.
“I’ll be out by the weekend,” I say quietly.
His hand stills.“And then what?”
The question hangs between us, unanswered.His fingers pinch my nipple lightly, and I bite my lower lip, arching against him again.“I’ll still want you.That hasn’t changed.”
He leans down and kisses the back of my neck, then takes my skin between his teeth and sucks slowly, lingering, branding me with a hickey.“I want you now,” he whispers.
I push back, a wordless answer, signaling my want.His fingers slip from my breast and slide between my thighs, parting me, exploring me.My hips gyrate instinctively, a soft moan slipping from my lips.
“Do we have time?”he rasps.
“Uh-huh.”My eyes fall shut as I roll my head back, surrendering to the feel of him, until he suddenly moves away.The sound of a foil wrapper tearing reassures me, and then he’s behind me, his body heat everywhere.His fingers are on me again, teasing my clit.
“Watch,” he whispers.I lift my head and catch our reflection.Naked.Him behind me.One hand cupping my breast, fingers rolling my nipple until my knees threaten to buckle.The other hand is steady and sure between my legs.I bend slightly over the sink, and he adjusts his angle, inching inside me.I arch my back, feeling a rush of warmth pooling below, My breath stutters.
“You’re soaked,” he croaks, then starts to thrust, slowly at first, deliberately, eyes locked on my reflection, on the way my breasts move with every measured push, the way my body answers him without restraint.He bends me over, his hand skating over my back, as he thrusts into me, harder and faster, all the way to the hilt.It’s beautiful, the way our bodies slam together.My breaths turn broken and uneven.The tension coils tighter and tighter until I can’t hold it back anymore.
