CHAPTER forty-nine #2
Then, slowly, he lifts his hand—the same one that just ruined me—and holds it up between us. His fingers glisten in the dim light, slick with my desire, and my face floods with heat.
Without breaking eye contact, Zach brings his hand to his mouth, and one by one, he sucks my taste from his fingers, his tongue flicking out to lap up every drop.
"Mm," he hums, closing his eyes for a brief, obscene second. "It's really... good." He draws out the syllables, savoring me like I'm his favorite sin.
The effect is instant—and catastrophic.
My heart jerks, then starts pounding so hard it feels like it's trying to break free. I don't even know what hits me harder—the filthy confidence of what he just did, or the way my body reacts to it, all heat and sparks and zero restraint.
I always thought I had self-control. Turns out, nope.
One look at Zach licking his fingers like that and I turn into a walking electrical storm.
I can't look away. His eyes are molten, hungry, and when he licks the last trace of me off his finger before flashing that crooked, sinful grin—it's game over. A shiver runs down my spine so hard I almost laugh.
He's daring me to match him, to be just as bold. But all I manage is a breathless giggle and a helpless bite of my lower lip, already addicted to the way he's looking at me.
God, I'm done for.
If he keeps looking at me like that—like I'm the only thing he wants to devour—I'm never going to survive this relationship. My brain's short-circuited, my knees feel like pudding, and I swear my soul just left my body to file a complaint for excessive hotness.
He tilts his head, still smirking, and I just... melt. Into the wall, into the floor, into him—whatever's closest. Because there's no universe where I can think straight while Zach Westbrook stands there tasting me, grinning like he just discovered a new religion and it's me.
And the worst part?
I love every goddamn second of it.
Zach finally steps back, his mouth curving into a self-satisfied smirk that makes me want to both slap him and pull him right back.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, my gaze dropping to the very obvious bulge in his jeans. "Don't you want me to..." I gesture vaguely, cheeks flaming. "You know."
He catches my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. "Tonight was about you," he murmurs against my skin. "Watching you fall apart was exactly what I needed." His eyes glint with mischief as he adds, "Consider it an investment in what I plan to collect later."
Dinner ends with me half-lying across Zach's lap, our empty takeout boxes stacked on the desk like trophies of our laziness.
He brought Thai food and I'm pretty sure I inhaled mine without tasting it, too distracted by the way his thumb kept tracing circles on my thigh while we ate.
Now we're curled up on my bed, the glow from my laptop flickering across the room as episode nine of Criminal Minds plays. Season three. The one where Garcia gets shot.
It's been years since we used to binge this show together, back when we still believed we could handle watching serial killers before bed without dreaming about them lurking in our closets.
Spoiler: we couldn't.
I'd wake up screaming, and Zach would pretend he wasn't terrified too.
"God," I mumble, propped against his chest. "Derek Morgan is literally the definition of a perfect man—chivalrous, rugged, hot, and so freaking protective of his 'baby girl.'" I sigh, full-on swooning.
Sometimes I wish I could take Penelope Garcia's place in those scenes. Like, shoot me in the leg or something just so he'll carry me out and call me baby girl too.
Zach snorts, eyes narrowing at the screen. "Seriously? You're swooning over him while I'm right here?"
I grin without looking away. "What? It's not my fault Derek Morgan's built like that. He's, like, the blueprint for hot FBI agents."
Zach scoffs, tightening his arm around me. "Please. I'm way cooler than that guy. I don't need a badge or a bulletproof vest to look good saving your ass."
I laugh so hard my shoulders shake. "Oh yeah? Because you totally screamed the last time we watched this. Remember? You thought someone was hiding behind my curtains."
His brows shoot up. "That was a jump scare! Anyone would've screamed!"
"Uh-huh," I tease, poking his chest. "Real tough, Westbrook. Derek Morgan could never."
"Real tough, huh?"
Before I can blink, his hands are at my sides, and I yelp as he starts tickling me.
"Zach—stop!" I squeal, twisting in his arms and laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
"Say it," he teases between chuckles. "Say I'm the only guy you find hot."
"Never!" I gasp, half-crying from laughter.
"Wrong answer."
"Okay, okay! You're the hottest guy alive!" I finally shout, breathless and giggling as he lets up.
"That's what I thought," he says, smug and grinning.
And that's exactly when the dorm door swings open.
Sam trudges in, backpack hanging off one shoulder, hair a mess, eyes shadowed from too many late nights. She stops, takes one look at us tangled up on the bed, still laughing, and groans.
"Seriously?" she mutters, dropping her bag with a thud. "You two are really out here rubbing your relationship in my single face? I haven't slept in days, and now I have to watch the two of you like this?"
I bite back a laugh. "You love us."
Sam groans into her pillow. "Yeah, yeah. Just—keep it PG, okay? I'm too tired to pretend I don't hear things."
Zach chuckles, loosening his arm around me. "Relax, angel, we're not corrupting your dorm innocence tonight."
She lifts her head just enough to glare at him. "You already did that when I walked in."
He smirks, totally unfazed. "Then maybe next time we'll hang a scrunchie on the doorknob—save you from the emotional trauma of seeing things you can't unsee."
"Ew, gross!" Sam throws a pillow at him, missing by an inch before collapsing back onto her bed. "You two are disgusting."
Zach laughs, leaning back with a smug grin. "Hey, I'm just looking out for your mental health."
"Yeah, well, look out for it some place else," she mumbles into her pillow.
Zach laughs quietly, pulling me closer and whispering in my ear, "Guess that's our cue to behave."
I grin, whispering back, "As if you ever do."
*****
ZACH
I wake up to warmth pressed against me—a soft body molded perfectly into mine.
My arm's draped over her waist, and for a moment, I just lie there, grinning like an idiot.
We're spooning, her hair tickling my chin, and she smells so damn good it's borderline criminal.
Like vanilla and sleep and whatever heaven must smell like.
I pull her a little closer, burying my nose against her neck.
God, she's warm. Soft. Perfect.
Not doing my cock any favors, though. Great. Fantastic. Love that for me.
But hell, I'm not complaining. If I get to wake up like this every day, I can die a happy man.
Well—okay, maybe not die. Bit morbid for this hour.
"You know you look like an idiot right now, right?"
I tilt my head toward the voice and find my sister standing by the full-length mirror, smirking like she just caught me drooling.
"Morning to you too, angel," I mutter, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
She rolls her eyes, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She's already dressed like she's about to head out somewhere, which makes me frown.
I carefully peel myself away from Caroline, moving slow so I don't wake her. She looks so peaceful, tangled in the sheets with her lips slightly parted. My chest squeezes a little just looking at her.
Now sitting at the edge of the bed, I rub the back of my neck, yawning. My hair's a wreck, sticking out in every possible direction. I set my alarm last night for 5 a.m. because I've got to leave by 5:30 for morning workout with the team—but now I'm panicking that I might've slept through it.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, thumbing the screen in a hurry.
4:30 a.m.
Relief floods me, followed quickly by confusion.
"Wait, are you leaving already?" I ask, frowning at my sister's reflection.
"I'm heading to the library. I want to get there early before it gets crowded. It's exam week—by five, there won't even be a seat left."
I frown deeper. "Shouldn't you sleep some more, angel? Why can't you just stay here and study—or crash at my place? You could lock my room for all I care, as long as you let yourself rest for a little bit more."
She shrugs, still gathering her things. "I like studying at the library. It keeps me focused, you know? Something about being surrounded by a hundred other stressed-out students and the smell of old books—it just puts me in study mode." She grins, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Besides, if I stay here or at your place, I'll just end up bugging Eli or texting him nonstop. The library gives my brain a clear signal: 'you're here to study, not to fantasize about my Eli.'"
"But you came home past midnight, angel. You've barely slept."
She glances at me, flashing that teasing grin. "You sound like Mom."
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. "I just worry, you know. You're my little sister."
"I'm fine, Zach," she says softly.
Except she doesn't look fine. There are faint dark circles under her eyes, and her skin's paler than usual. She runs herself ragged sometimes, like she forgets she's only human.
I drag a hand down my face, fighting the urge to keep her home like she's still a kid. "Just... don't push yourself too much, okay?" My voice comes out softer than I mean it to.
She meets my gaze—just for a second—and smiles that tired little smile. "I'll be fine, big brother. Don't worry about me too much, okay?"
Easier said than done.
She shifts her bag higher on her shoulder. "Oh—and I made Eli's Mean Green Monster morning shake. It's in the fridge. Don't forget to give it to him—you know how he gets when he skips it after workouts. Grumpy, sulky, full-on monster mode all day."
I let out a quiet breath, half amused, half exasperated.