Wrecked (9 page)

Maybe he could—

Her body tightened.

Her knees tightened around his hips and she arched, her body a lovely, sweet bow. “Zach . . . ?”

Turning his head, he caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit down. “Come for me, damn it.” Too many years spent wanting her and now, everything he wanted, everything he needed was right here. “Come for me, Abby . . .”

* * *

Those husky words sent her flying higher than she’d
ever been.

Unable to breathe, unable to see, caught in the circle of his arms and the heat of his body, Abby experienced a climax that all but devastated her. The oxygen seemed to disappear from the world. And it took the light with it. For long, long minutes, she was blind, deaf to anything and everything.

And then, as rational thought started to intrude, she forced her eyes to open.

They were moving.

Or rather,
Zach
was.

The hot rush of blood leaped to her cheeks as those stupid rational thoughts started to intrude, but she couldn’t very well spring away from him and get herself under control because he was carrying her.

“If you try to jump away from me, you’re going to hurt us,” Zach said quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Walking up the stairs and having panic attacks aren’t very good combinations.”

Her tongue seemed to glue itself to the roof of her mouth, but she managed to get the words out. “Why . . .” Okay. She got
one
word out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Why are we going upstairs?”

“Because I want to sit down and hold you for a little while without you taking off and locking yourself in your room. I figured I’d just lock myself in there with you.”

Her brain shut down.

Locked in her room.

With Zach.

That sounded so very appealing.

And it felt even better, she had to admit a few minutes later as he laid her down and tucked himself up behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist, his palm flat against her belly. The heat of him spread through her body, lulling her, calming her, seducing her.

Too perfect for words, she decided.

She could handle this, she thought. As long as she didn’t think. As long as she didn’t—

Watch out
,
her brain warned her.
You’re starting to think
.

Desperately, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.
Focus on him. Just him. He feels nice, right?

Oh, yes. He felt better than nice. Better than anything she’d ever felt, really.

But what in the hell is going on? You were going to think things through and now—

Stop it. The calm, rational part of her mind got a little louder. But it just wasn’t enough and before she even realized it, she blurted out, “What in the hell just happened?”

Zach’s lips touched the back of her neck. “Well, I’m no expert, but I think you kissed me,” he said, his voice teasing. “And I’m pretty sure we both enjoyed it. But maybe we should try again.”

And then she found herself on her back, staring up into a pair of dark blue eyes that she knew very, very well. They’d always seemed to glint with mischief, or trouble . . . but she’d never realized just how much they glinted with
that
kind of trouble.

Not until now.

As his mouth came down on hers again, Abby barely had time to catch her breath. Then she was wondering why she’d even bothered. He stole the oxygen right out of her with his kiss. His tongue stroked along hers, moving into her mouth with an easy assurance that belied his words.

I’m no expert
.

Oh, yes. Yes, he was.

She whimpered as he took the kiss deeper.

The hand on her belly caught the material of her skirt, dragging it upward and although panic crowded inside her head, there was nothing in her that could make herself pull away. Nothing that would make her say
stop
.

He’d do it. There was no doubt in her mind.

The problem was she didn’t
want
him to stop.

As his fingers flirted with the waistband of her panties, Zach lifted his mouth from hers and whispered, his breath dancing over her swollen, sensitive lips, “Abby . . . ?”

She knew what he was asking. He was giving her a chance to call a halt to this. A halt to this crazy, insane . . . what was this thing?

Swallowing, she forced herself to open her eyes and stare at him. “What’s going on, Zach?”

He sighed and instead of slipping his hand inside her panties, he smoothed a palm over her thigh. He lowered his head, resting it on her breasts. “That’s the twenty-thousand-dollar question, I guess, isn’t it?”

She felt the puff of air against her sensitive skin and groaned as her nipples responded, tightening as though he’d been nibbling on them instead of just talking to her. This was insane.

Completely insane.

She’d just had the climax of her life . . . with Zach. And both of them were still fully clothed. They hadn’t had sex. They’d only barely been making out and she’d come harder than she could ever remember coming in her life.

Insane
.

And all she wanted to do was strip herself naked, make him do the same so they could see just how far they could ride this insanity.

“We should stop.” Her body shrieked at the very idea of it. So did just about every other part of her. Hell, even her mind wasn’t getting on board with the idea of
stopping
. She closed her eyes. “Shouldn’t we?”

He rubbed his cheek against her skin. “Is that what you want?”

No
. Terror locked the word in her throat. Yes, she’d been the one to kiss him and yes, she wanted more, so much more. Lately, the things she seemed to want from Zach terrified her. But he was her best friend. There was nobody she loved more than him, nobody who meant more. He was . . . everything.

What if she lost that?

The weight of his head left her breast and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, with his measured, steady gaze. “Abs . . .” He stroked a hand along her cheek, cupped her face in his palm.

Licking her lips, she nudged him back. “Let me up a minute.”

Something flashed through his eyes. It might have been disappointment, she thought. But she was afraid to think about it too long.

As he eased away, she shifted away from him and climbed off the bed to pace. “I’d say something like this is crazy. Except I kissed you so it’s not like this came out of nowhere.” She shoved her hair back from her face.

“Are you trying to tell me you wish you hadn’t kissed me?”

She shot him a look and then wished she hadn’t.

Wow.

How in the hell hadn’t she noticed this before . . .

He sat with his back pressed against her headboard. The walls of her bedroom were pale green and the headboard was white. The boards were reclaimed wood and the overall feel of her room was a shabby chic look, feminine without being too fussy. Zach should have looked incredibly out of place on her bed, with his beat-up jeans and black t-shirt. But he didn’t.

He looked like he belonged there. In her room. With her, with that faint smile on his face and that intimate, watchful look in his eyes. The vivid color of his tattoos wound around his arms and she found herself wanting to pull his shirt off and learn the detail of those tattoos in ways she’d never done before.

He was too beautiful for words.

Logically, she
knew
that. She’d appreciated the sheer beauty of him before. But
knowing
it and having it hit her like this were two very different things. Her belly, all hot and tight, twisted with need as she stood there staring at him and it took her a few more seconds to remember that he’d asked her something. A question. Oh, yeah.

“No,” she said. She didn’t regret kissing him at all. “I just . . .” She shook her head and shifted her gaze to somewhere other than him.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Blood rushed to her face and she turned away, focusing her attention on the sprawling window that stared out over the desert. At night, she could stare out at the spread of the sky and feel lost in the beauty of it. During the day, she could stare at the desert and find some peace in the chaos of her day.

But right now, it wasn’t working.

Hearing a faint movement behind her, she turned around as he came to a stop just inches away. “No answer?” he murmured, reaching out to tug on a lock of her hair.

She jerked her chin up and fell back on the attitude that had gotten her through things when little else could. “Hey, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I could always ask
you
why you kissed me
back
,” she shot off.

A hot grin appeared on his face and he dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “But I can give you an answer for that. Are you really sure you want to hear it?”

Abigale rolled her eyes and tried to back away from him. But he followed her. Step-by-step, until she stood with her back braced against the wall just by the window, the heat of the sun already warming her skin. “I probably already know what it is,” she said, curling her lip at him. “You’re a man, right?”

“Well . . . there is that.” He closed his hands around her hips, holding her steady as he leaned against her. She felt the heat of him, the length of his cock like a brand against her belly and her breath caught in her lungs, lodged there as he started to rock, slow and steady.

Each movement sent flickers of heat flying through her, turning her brain into absolute mush.

“But there’s the real reason.” He rubbed his lips against hers. “You see . . . I’ve only been waiting for you to kiss me for a good long while now. I can’t be held responsible for liking it when you finally do it.”

As he took her mouth again, a hot wave of delight flooded her.

* * *

That skirt of hers was going to be the end of him,
Zach decided as he gathered the flowing material back up in his hands, dragging it up over the length of her legs. Once he could palm the curve of her ass, he nipped her lower lip and then lifted his head and stared down at her. “I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted to kiss you . . . and I wanted to do this . . . feel you, just like this. And a hell of a lot more, Abby.”

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and dazed, fogged with heat, with surprise. Her tongue slid out to wet her lips and he followed the path it had taken with his eyes, ready to devour her, completely.

But he needed to slow this down.

She was already nervous as hell and he wasn’t about to blow this.

“Do you want to know what else I’ve wanted to do?” he whispered, shifting until he could push one thigh between her legs.

Her lashes fluttered down and he watched her head fall back, exposing the elegant line of her neck. Sweeping his head down, he raked his teeth along the delicate curve and then muttered against her ear, “Do you want to know?”

Long seconds ticked away, broken only by the ragged sounds of their breathing. But then, finally, she said, “Yes.”

Easing back, he caught her hands and guided them down until she was the one holding her skirt up. A bright pink blush settled on her cheeks but she held his gaze as he lifted his eyes to look at her. “This skirt is going to drive me out of my fucking mind,” he said conversationally. “Just like
that
and you’re naked, you know that?”

A grin danced around her lips. “Well, that’s the thing about clothes. If you wear them, you’re clothed. If not, you’re naked.”

“This skirt ain’t much different.” It covered everything, but it was just a dream, really. One tug and it would fall away. But he didn’t want that. Not yet. Stepping back, he studied her, her skirt hiked up, baring the blush-colored fabric of her panties, the lush curve of her thighs and hips. Placing his hand on her belly, he continued to watch her as he eased his way down . . . down . . . down.

Her breath hitched in her chest, causing her breasts to rise and fall. He used one hand to nudge the straps of her tank down her shoulders. The pretty, lacy straps of her bra remained and he dipped his head, pressing his lips to the lace. “I want you naked, Abby.”

“Zach . . .”

He heard the hesitancy in her voice and he murmured, “Shhh . . . not yet. Not yet.”

He wasn’t rushing this. No way in hell.

Besides, he had just slid his hand inside Abby’s damned panties and he could feel the silky curls against his fingers and hot damn, he thought he just might come from that alone. “I’ve wanted this,” he muttered against her skin. Leaning in closer, he braced his free arm on the wall over her head and listened to her ragged sigh as he circled his index finger over the tight little bud of her clitoris.

She cried out, the sound of it bouncing off the walls around him. “Like that?” he murmured, giving her another slow stroke. Then he moved in a quicker, firmer rhythm and felt her buck against him. “Or like that?”

“Zach . . . please!”

She was hot as the desert sun under his touch, but slick and wet as rain, and so perfect. He wanted to go to his knees before her, taste her, worship her, love her . . . instead, he stayed where he was, forgetting about the rest of the world as he stroked his fingers over her sweet, swollen flesh.

Her nails bit into his sides, her hips rocking forward, fast, hungry. “Damn it, Zach,” she groaned.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes!”

“Push your panties down, then.” He kept his free arm on the wall. He wasn’t making love to her today, damn it. He’d finally gotten her to see him and this wasn’t going to be a onetime thing.

But he couldn’t listen to that hungry, desperate plea in her voice, either.

Her hands were shaking as she reached for the waistband of her panties, stretched tight around his hand. He held still as she pushed them down but then they caught around her knees and she swayed as she shimmied her way out of them. Feeling the soft, warm weight of her body as he braced himself against her was almost his undoing.

Almost.

He held on through will alone. Teeth gritted, eyes closed, he kept his face buried against her neck until he thought he could continue without losing what little control he maintained.