27. Necessities
TWENTY-SEVEN
necessities
brEE
This moment has been building since the day he walked onto my rooftop. I don’t give my heart easily. Not anymore. It’s almost as if Zack took it without my permission. It wasn’t expected. I wasn’t looking for romance—not with him. And yet here it is, right in front of me.
Zack shudders as I drag my hands from his hair to his neck and then down his back. I feel his eyes close as they rest against my cheek, his forehead on my shoulder. Zack’s arms stay wrapped around me, their rightful place in this world. I’ve never felt safer than when he’s holding me.
I stopped believing I could feel this way; trust someone else the way I trust Zack. How could I, when every relationship turned out to be a lie? I kept my heart behind a wall, protected from the world ... until Zack showed up. I had no choice, really. My heart was his before I had any say in the matter.
In all the small ways, he’s taught me to believe in myself again. That I’m strong. That I have talent. That not everyone lies. He’s brought joy back into my life. Hope. He’s never pushed. He waited for me to trust him by showing me every day that I could. Until my heart was healed.
And now I’m ready to show him how much I belong to him. How much my heart is his, and his alone.
With my arms around his neck, I take a few steps backward, pulling him over to the couch with me. I don’t think my legs can hold me up much longer. I’m shaking with nerves and anticipation; with desire. With want for this man who’s brought me back to myself. The backs of my knees hit the edge of the couch, so I stop moving. Zack looks at me, into my eyes, in a way that burns right down to my soul, telling me he sees me. My heart races. My body heats under his gaze. Every. Time.
This man. What is he doing to me?
I reach up to unbutton his shirt. One button after another comes undone, revealing his toned chest and abs that are unreal. The first time I saw his body, the day he used his karate moves to impress me—which worked completely—I had to force my tongue back into my mouth. I may have drooled, he’s that hot. I’m relieved to finally be free to admire him.
I track the movement as my hand runs down his body, chest to stomach, and then I dip a finger just below his waistband. He reacts to my touch, shuddering again. His forehead hits my shoulder with a groan.
“God, Bree ... what you do to me.” His voice is a whisper, breathless with want. It gives me the courage to continue, and I need courage for this. I want him so much it’s become a need, basic and sustaining. It’s no longer just desire.
It’s a necessity.
My lips find his collar, trailing kisses along his shoulder and up to his jaw. He responds by pulling me closer.
“I need to touch you, baby.”
My heart hammers at the term of endearment. He’s never called me anything but Bree. I’m surprised at how much I like hearing him say it .
“Then touch me.” I can hardly form words at this point, desire taking over every part of me.
He brushes the hair away from my shoulders, fingertips grazing my heated skin, then proceeds to focus on the buttons of my shirt with the same slow torture I used on him. Payback. It’s my turn to shudder under his touch. And I do.
“Are you cold?” he asks, concern and lust heard simultaneously. I’m heady at the effect I have on him. It’s powerful.
“A little,” I confess.
“Then let me warm you.” He speaks the words as the last button is undone. His hands slide around my middle, skin to skin. I’m seared by the heat of his touch and yet relieved to finally have his hands on me. I need more.
I push the collar of his shirt back, letting the fabric fall off his shoulders, and watch as his shoulders roll the shirt to the floor. As he eyes me, watching with a dark gaze, I peel myself out of my shirt, standing before him in just my damp bra and jeans.
These jeans have to go.
His eyes darken further as my trembling fingers find the button, unsnap it, and then push the jeans down past my hips. He watches as they pool at my feet, then as I lift one foot then the other to step out of the fabric and closer to him. His mouth drops open slightly at my little tease.
I reach out to unsnap Zack’s jeans, but he stops me, gripping my palms in a gentle hold.
“Bree, I didn’t ... I wasn’t ...” His voice starts and stops, trailing off at each broken thought. His eyes search mine, trying to find something or say something without having to really say it. He finally says what he’s thinking. “I’m not prepared. Not ... protected .”
Oh.
“Zack ...” I start, but he cuts me off.
“This wasn’t the plan, Bree. To get you alone out here so we could ...” He shakes his head.
He’s so worried .
“I didn’t think so.” I smile at his nerves. I’m glad we’re both feeling it, to be honest. It’s the reason I trust him so deeply. It’s the reason I love him so much.
So much it scares me.
So much I’m left breathless when I think about it.
Zack looks at me once again, relieved I wasn’t thinking he had a big seduction scene planned out. But there’s something else he needs to know.
“You may not have come prepared for this. But don’t worry. I did.”
The surprise on his face is precious. I walk to my coat and pull a little package out of my pocket. A few packages, actually. Just in case. I have a feeling one won’t be enough. Not by a long shot.
“Bree ...” Zack blushes, and it’s the biggest turn-on ever.
“Shh.” I stand in front of him again, pulling him closer to finish what I started with his jeans. This time he doesn’t stop me. Instead he plunges his fingers into my hair, still wet from the rain, kissing along my forehead. I push his jeans to the floor and then wrap myself around him, both of us left in nothing but our underwear.
That needs to go too.
He must be thinking the same thing, because his fingers find the clasp of my bra, then I feel it release. He pulls the straps down my arms as his mouth lingers on my neck, my shoulder. He reaches up to cover my exposed breasts one at a time. I moan at the warmth of his hands against my skin. How is he so warm?
My reaction spurs him forward. The next thing I know, my panties have been removed, and he’s stepping back to admire me. I feel the blush—not from embarrassment, but from needing his touch.
“Wow.” He’s in awe—or so it seems. “You are so beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
Mine. I shouldn’t feel so excited to be claimed, but I am. And I need to claim him in return .
“I am yours.” I whisper the acknowledgment as I step closer to him, not breaking our gaze.
Our eyes remain fixed on one another’s, never breaking contact, as I grab the waistband of his boxers and push them down, allowing him to spring free.
“And you. Are. Mine.” I wrap a hand around him, causing him to groan.
“Holy ...” he says, followed by another groan. “Lie back on the couch.”
His gravelly voice utters the command. He doesn’t wait for me to react before he’s the one laying me back. I recline on the cushions as he covers me, his hands wandering to my breasts and then lower, followed by his lips, his tongue.
“Oh . . .”
It’s too much, all at once. His hand, his lips, his tongue find every part of me as he explores. I’m almost paralyzed with want, but I can’t let him have all the fun.
I squirm a bit as he’s working me up into a frenzy, trying to grab hold of him somewhere—anywhere. All I seem to have access to is his hair, so I tug. I pull.
And then I moan.
It’s a shuddering moan; a convulsion that rips through me. I’m panting, sighing, twisting, as he continues his maneuvers. My limbs are weak, slack from the pleasure soaring from his touch.
“Zack, I’m done . . .”
My plea causes him to stop and look up at me. He’s a bit smug, I think. The look on his face is pure male satisfaction.
“Oh, I’m nowhere near done with you, baby.” He proceeds to climb back up, covering me entirely. His face meets mine, and yet another sensation washes over me as I feel his heat, his own desire, pressing against my core. “You have no idea how much I want you, Bree.”
His voice sends shivers down my spine, into my toes.
“I need you , Zack.” I do. I’ve never been so blunt with honesty. In this private little bubble, where we’re literally stripped bare, I’m hiding nothing from him. I want him to know exactly what he does to me.
His hands move, slowly tracing my side, the curve of my breast. My breathing comes rushed, heavy, as I arch into him. His lips latch onto my neck—a hold that brings tingles everywhere. He presses a little closer, our skin making direct contact in more places than I can count. And in one specific place, clearly demonstrating how much he wants me.
“Please, Zack.” I whisper my plea, wanting him to know I’m more than ready.
He brings his face close to mine, looking deeply into my eyes. “Bree ...”
His voice breaks as he says my name. Our eyes share the same emotion: disbelief at what we’ve found in each other; longing to be as close as possible. There’s one final step to take, and we’re ready for the moment it happens.
Zack reaches over to the side of the couch, grabbing one of the packages I brought in anticipation. I figured we’d be out in the fields, some grassy spot on a blanket, reminding me of that picnic scene in the video when he kissed me as if he really wanted to, as if it weren’t just for the scene.
Only now, I know it wasn’t. For either of us.
He prepares himself as I remember the night we screened the video for the first time, when I saw how he looked at me as he kissed me. When I saw how I was looking at him. It brought down all my defenses, all my fears about trusting him. How could I not trust someone who looked at me like that?
Zack returns to hovering over me, looking down at me with such love in his eyes. I nod—my only reply to his silent question.
And then he moves.
It’s a gentle press, but both of us sigh in relief. Slow at first, I wrap my legs around him, urging him for more. Like the gentleman he is, he complies with my request. I pull him closer, matching his rhythm beat for beat. It’s a song, a melody, playing between us. Then his lips are once again capturing mine in a kiss so tender, so sweet, a tear slips from my eye and rolls down my cheek. Emotion builds, too strong for me to hide. I’m not sure how to keep it from erupting.
Zack presses his cheek against mine, whispering once again his words of love; of adoration. And I’m done, broken apart, as he tells me he loves me over and over, my name on his lips as he follows after me.
“Zack.” I can’t find the words to tell him I’ve never felt closer to another person. That no one has made me feel the way he does. That this meant something to me—something important. So I say his name. It’s the only word that matters.
“I know, Bree. I know. That was ...” He can’t seem to find the words either.
We stay wrapped around each other for another minute, not wanting to break apart and feel the loss of each other’s heat.
Then Zack looks at me, a little gleam in his eye. “Let me show you the bedroom.”
“Need a nap?” I laugh.
“Eventually.” He winks.
I laugh again.
But then he gives me such a look, so heated and wanting, that I reach for the rest of the little packages.
“Good thing I came prepared then, isn’t it?”
Zack’s smirk matches mine as he drags me to the bedroom. Looks like I was right about needing plenty.