15. Blake
15
BLAKE
O ne half-shot wouldn’t be enough to make him drunk. I knew that. It was a fact. A lot more booze would be required to loosen up a tall and broad-shouldered hulk like Zach. That teeny half of a shot Leo poured us—a conservative drink because he knew we’d be getting behind the wheel—wasn’t enough to turn Zach into some daring man hitting on me.
Yet, he’d put his hand on mine, holding it.
He’d told Reagan no, again, and announced his intention to stick with me. To take me home.
Just to drop me off, right?
My heart raced with the giddiness of wondering what else that phrase could mean. Taking me home meant transporting me to my residence. Not… taking me home and taking me there .
Right?
All night, I’d felt the burn of his stare on me. I’d been a klutz all night because of his direct attention.
But he wasn’t staying. He saw no purpose to linger in town. I couldn’t guess at his intentions, but the moment I was buckled into his truck and rubbing my hands over the heat vents on the dash, I had to ask.
“Zach?”
He faced me as he steered his truck out of the lot. The streetlamps cut shadows over his rugged face, and I couldn’t help but stare at how lean and strong he was, even in his face. His neck. The beard did something too, but I hadn’t ever realized how sexy they were.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your game?” I asked, blunt but letting him hear the surprise in my voice. “You… you insert yourself into catering this party tonight. You jump at the chance to take me home…”
He licked the corner of his lips, not looking at me for a long moment.
“So…what’s your game? What’s going on here?”
Why would you want to be with me?
“No game,” he replied honestly. “I’m not playing a game with you, Blake.”
But…?
“I’m…” He blew out a deep breath as he drove, calm in appearance, but he was too tense and taut for me to believe he was relaxed. “I’m attracted to you. Since I came back and saw you… I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Oh, God.
I licked my lips, straining to swallow. My mouth was so dry, and too many emotions clogged my throat to clear it. Desire. Yearning. Nervousness. And disbelief. He couldn’t possibly mean it.
Not a word. Not one word from him after we mutually crossed the line that shouldn’t have been trespassed. I was supposed to always be off-limits to him, younger, the sister of his best friend. He was supposed to remain untouchable to me, away in the military, never wanting to be home. We’d both erred that one night, resulting in such a sweet miracle of a child, but he hadn’t reached out a single time.
I hadn’t either, but I’d had my reasons. Like hiding that he’d fathered a son he couldn’t have wanted with his tunnel-vision goal of being in the services.
He couldn’t stop thinking about me now ? Just because he was here and I conveniently crossed paths with him? I was on his mind just now? Not before?
If he’d been so stuck on me all these years that I was raising George on my own, why didn’t he visit? Why didn’t he call? Text? Ask Jenny or Amanda about me? Anything!
Doubt clouded my mind as I tried to reconcile what he said and what had happened. He might be attracted to me right now, because he was here and so was I, but if he hadn’t been discharged and come home, this wouldn’t be happening. He’d continue to forget I existed.
“Blake?” he asked quietly as he turned into my driveway.
“I—” I blinked and shook out of my reverie, realizing I’d gone silent.
He braked and put the truck in park. When he turned off the engine and gave me a long look, I damn near melted at the desire swarming in his deep blue eyes.
Oh, fuck. That look. I breathed faster as I sat there, watching him get out of the truck and round it to open my door.
He reached for my hand, but this time, it felt like a charged gesture. This time, prodded along by the idea that I could act on this all-consuming desire he ignited in me, I didn’t want to let go.
“I’ve never forgotten about that night,” he said as he walked me to the door.
“Me neither.” It wasn’t like I could’ve forgotten when the result of that night was born six months afterward.
“One night of… passion.”
Passion and so many orgasms I knew he’d single-handedly ruined me for any other man.
“But that night, it was just the grief talking,” I corrected.
He stopped at the door, releasing my hand as I unlocked it. “Is that an excuse this time?”
I looked deep into his ocean-blue eyes, falling further under the promise of hot intimacy and potent desire. A man didn’t look at a woman like that unless he was starving for her. This man hadn’t looked at me like that since my brother’s funeral six years ago.
Just like before, I knew I shouldn’t. I really, really had no business lusting after this man, but I was defenseless to what I wanted. My body reacted. My heart pattered so much faster, excited just because he was near again.
My defenses should’ve been stronger. Against my assumptions that I’d never see him again, I did. He was right here, within reach, telling me he wanted me. Common sense should’ve been loud and clear with the reminder of how messed up it would be for me to sleep with him without explaining the full results of what happened the last time we had.
But the difference was that I knew. I was aware now of how damn good it was. I recalled how relaxed and pleasured he’d made me feel. He coaxed me to come so hard, so deeply and profoundly that he’d left a part of himself with me—not just in our son but in my heart. In that night of grief, we’d come together in a form of love.
Right now, though…
I shook my head. Of course, I still missed my brother, but I wasn’t gripped with the need to mourn him as strongly as I did at his funeral.
“No. It’s not an excuse.”
In fact, I had no excuses. For once in my life, clear-headed and without the mask of grief to hide behind, I went for what I wanted.
I lunged up at him, kissing him so hard that he grunted. At the first touch of my lips against his firm yet soft mouth, I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Fuck. Blake,” he whispered in a gravelly growl as he held me close. Hauling me toward his hard chest, he picked me up and carried me over the threshold. That was all it took. One brave approach. One move. One kiss that segued into making out like air no longer mattered.
He had the foresight to kick the door shut behind him, and I sought the clarity of mind to stab the buttons on the alarm panel and deactivate it. That was the only break in keeping my face away from his, sacrificing his hot kisses, but he didn’t stop. Holding me up in his strong arms, he continued a trail down my neck, sucking, licking, and kissing.
Every inch of my skin burned. Everywhere he touched tingled, pushing me to tear at his coat and clothes. He had the same idea, mashing his demanding lips to mine again as he gripped me close.
“Get them off. Now,” he ordered.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I clung to him, kissing and dueling with his tongue until I didn’t care how hard I panted for him, how desperate my whimpers were for him. He kept me in his strong arms but lowered me to my feet so I could backpedal as he walked me further inside. My fingers trembled with need, clumsy but determined to rip his clothes off as we moved together. His fingers were just as urgent, tugging at my clothes. We shed them in a rush, united in this effort to get naked now. I steered him to follow me toward my room, impatient to feel all of him.
“I need you. So fucking bad, Blake,” he growled as the backs of my knees hit the edge of my bed.
One push had me falling back, and after that dominant move, he followed me down, not leaving more than an inch between us.
Last time was slow and gentle. When we had sex all those years ago, he explored and took his time to learn what I liked. I had the freedom to play and gain my confidence in fucking my former teenage crush.
This time was a race. His chest heaved as he rolled me to my back. My nails scraped lines into his skin as I urged him to fit between my legs. I wouldn’t feel all of him. With my arms still in my sleeves and my bra tugged down, I didn’t have the luxury of nudity. Neither did he. His shirt hung open, depriving me of seeing and feeling all of his taut skin.
But what happened was the shove of my pants and panties down to one ankle. And his pants and boxers fell to his knees. As he hovered over me, kissing me with such force that I was pushed down onto my comforter, I wrapped my leg around his waist and tried to close the distance between his raging hard-on and my wet entrance.
“Please.”
“Condom?” He pulled back only enough to lick his lips and furrow his brow.
I shook my head. “I’m clean. On protection.” Now , I was. Since I already had an unplanned pregnancy, I was careful.
“I’m clean too,” he said as I thrust up at him again, needing to reconnect.
“Then please,” I whined, arching my back.
He stroked his hand down my side and over the globe of my ass. Digging his fingers in, he groaned and lined himself up. The pressure of his grip on my ass was harsh, and I swore I creamed a little more just at this gritty intensity he hadn’t shown me last time.
Without another word, he eased into me. Just the slide of his wide cockhead had me moaning. It was such a stretch. Such a fullness. And it was only the beginning.
“Fuck, Blake. Fuck .” He slid the rest of the way in, dragging his thick dick along my inner walls.
I was full. I was stretched and impaled. He didn’t stop until he was all the way in, but when he was, I relished his shivers. He exhaled a hard breath, squeezing his eyes closed so tight.
“You feel…”
Framing his face, I kissed him. I didn’t want to hear pretty words. I wanted the growls and grunts, this dominance he seemed to rein in. My lips against his prompted him to move, and in a frenzy of hard, fast thrusts, he pounded my pussy until I came.
“Oh, my God!” I cried out, letting go. I let go of it all. My sanity. My exhaustion. My worries and stress. Under his mouth that stole my breath and my muffled cries, I came apart and just let go. With his dick slamming into me one more time until it jerked and flooded my womb with his hot cum, I experienced a blissful release only he seemed able to grant me.
With my childhood crush deep inside me, holding me close and letting his heart race alongside mine, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged. Where I was wanted. Where my soul could be patched together and be whole again.