Chapter 9
Chapter nine
The Next Morning
Morning arrives like a tide easing back from the shore of my body.
There’s only warmth layering through muscles aching in the most pleasant way.
I lie still beneath the sheets, eyes closed, breathing in the faint scent of linen mingled with the lingering trace of Zach on my skin. My body has been deliciously used. Hips tender. Thighs pleasantly sore. Lips still sensitive from the hours of kisses. A bit of beard rash.
When I stretch beneath the covers, a soft sound escapes my lips, unintentional, but entirely fitting.
God.
I’ve never felt so content.
Not even close.
Images from last night flicker through my mind. Snapshots of ecstasy. The weight of his body pressing down on mine. How his deep voice rolled over me when he called out my name over and over. Our laughter bubbling as we collapsed into pillows, swearing we should sleep.
We didn’t.
Finally, my eyes flicker open. Soft morning light filters through the small oval window beside the bed, bathing the cabin in a pale glow, replacing the deep blue-black of night. The atmosphere in the cabin is strangely quiet.
Still. No engine vibrations.
My hand pats the mattress next to me, fingers brushing the cool sheets.
An empty space.
I roll onto my side and blink more fully awake. I hear faint movements in the cabin beyond. Something sliding shut. Soft footsteps.
Zach.
The thought of him sends a slow ripple of heat through my core. My body remembers every moment of last night vividly, as if the years apart sharpened my memory instead of dulling it. The delicious evidence of our activities radiates throughout my core. A warm, heady, delicious soreness.
Four times.
A quiet laugh escapes as I push myself upright to nestle in the pillows.
Four times.
I’ve never had sex four times in one night.
I’m already hoping for a fifth.
The thought warms my cheeks.
The suite door swings open. Zach steps inside, a tray balanced in his hands. For a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but loose charcoal pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips. His chest is bare, muscles rippling enticingly as he approaches.
He’s devastatingly handsome.
Maddeningly pleased with himself.
“Morning.” A playful smirk dances on his lips.
I glance at him, then at the tray, and back again. “You’re kidding.”
He sets the tray on the small table beside the bed. Fresh fruit glistens in a bowl, croissants nestle on a folded linen napkin, soft scrambled eggs steam invitingly. Two cups of espresso and a small pitcher of orange juice complete the spread.
The aroma makes my stomach rumble, awakening my senses.
“Breakfast,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to wake up on a private jet to breakfast in bed served by my shirtless best friend.
I narrow my eyes at him. “The plane isn’t moving.”
“No.” He leans on the wall and watches me with a teasing glint.
“When did we land?”
Zach shrugs. “About three hours ago.”
Three. Hours.
I stare at him, mortification flooding my senses. “You let me sleep for three hours? What happened to the crew?”
“Don’t worry about it. You needed some rest. I wore you out, it was the least I could do.” His expression remains unfazed.
“Zach,” I pout. “You should have woken me.”
He pushes off the wall and sits beside me on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand instinctively smooths the blanket over my legs, a gesture so tender a lump nearly forms in my throat.
“Nah. You looked peaceful.”
He reaches for a croissant and tears it in half, offering me the larger piece. Our fingers brush, and the contact sparks an electric shiver. Neither of us comments on it, but we don’t pull away either.
I take a bite and close my eyes in sheer enjoyment.
“Okay,” I moan around the pastry, “this is criminally good.”
He watches me eat with a look on his face suspiciously resembling contentment.
“You’re staring,” I grab the cup of espresso to hide my red cheeks.
“Well, you’re glowing.”
I choke on my drink, coughing. “Pretty sure it’s your fault.”
“Yeah.” The smug smile returns. “You seemed…open to the experience.”
I laugh softly, relaxing back into the pillows. The movement pulls the blanket lower, and his hand instinctively reaches out to tug it back up again, fingertips brushing along my stomach.
His hand lingers a moment longer than necessary.
“So,” I carefully sip my coffee, “what’s the plan?”
“For?” He raises an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes like he’s an idiot. “For walking into a castle full of our best friends after what we did last night.”
“Ah.” Understanding flickers in his eyes.
“Yes. Ah.”
He nestles back next to me, one arm draped casually along the headboard. “I say we walk in together. I’m pretty sure they’ve been waiting for us to pull our heads out of our asses.”
“Hmmm. The throw-it-in-your-face strategy?” I cross my arms in front of me.
“It’s solid.”
I study his face, searching for any hint of apprehension. “You’re very calm about this.”
“I’m still enjoying the bubble.” His thumb traces slow circles on my thigh.
“The bubble?”
“The part where the world doesn’t know anything yet.” His gaze flickers around the suite, taking in our clothes scattered all over the floor.
More evidence of our wild night.
My cheeks flush. “Pretty sure the bubble popped hours ago.”
He kisses my shoulder, breath warm and tantalizing against my skin. “You sure?”
“You’re impossible.” My fingers trace the warm line of muscle along his arm.
“To resist.” He stares into my eyes and winks.
I playfully shove him. “Don’t be so fucking arrogant.”
“Too late.” His playful tone sends bolts of electricity through my entire body.
Sighing, I reach for a piece of fruit to try to redirect my focus. “We should get ready. They’re probably already wondering where we are.”
“You know,” his hand skims my leg again, “we could stay here a little longer.”
I shake my head. “We can’t skip the wedding festivities you flew me across the ocean to attend.”
“Worth a try.” His mouth curves, amusement dances in his eyes.
I shake my head, cheesing despite myself. Then, unable to resist, I tilt my head to kiss him lightly.
“Finish breakfast,” I whisper. “Then we face reality.”
He kisses me back like he has all the time in the world. “Reality can wait five more minutes.”
Honestly, I’m starting to agree.
Zach’s fingers continue to tease circles of fire along my thigh, pulling me deeper into the moment. The warmth between us is palpable, and as I look into his eyes, I see a mix of desire and mischief.
“You know, we really should take our time,” I suggest, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper, lips brushing along his ear. “After all, we have a few days before the wedding.”
He chuckles. “Now, who’s tempting who, Skylar.”
“Me,” I reply naughtily. “I want to tempt you.”
He grins and suddenly the air is infused with erotic tension. “What do you have in mind?”
I consider the question for a moment, my gaze drifting down to where his pajama bottoms hang low on his hips, the outline of his growing arousal barely concealed.
I bite my lip. “I should show you just how much I appreciate breakfast.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, devilish glint in his eyes. “How do you plan to show said appreciation?”
With a smirk, I allow the blanket to slip, exposing my breasts to him completely. I watch as his breath catches, gaze locked with an intensity that ignites my skin.
“I have my ways,” I torment, heart racing with excitement.
His eyes darken and dilate. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Maybe,” I lick my lips. “Somehow, I think you’re up for the challenge.”
He grins, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he eases closer. “Oh, I definitely am.”
I melt into him, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, turning ravenous as we both give in to the passion radiating between us. He slants his hips along mine, allowing me to feel the thick ridge of his cock.
“God, you’re insatiable,” he whispers, voice low and thick with need.
I smirk. “You started it.”
He laughs throatily. “Oh, I’ll finish it, trust me.”
In one swift movement, he pulls the blanket aside and scoots me onto his lap, my back flush with his chest.
“Yeah, this is good.” He reclines back on the headrest and yanks his pajama bottoms down.
I settle back. His cock pokes up between my legs, poised at my entrance.
“God, you’re breathtaking.” He kisses my neck and spreads my legs over his thighs. “Watch this,” he commands as he fists his cock and taps it on my clit, teasing me mercilessly. “I’m gonna feed it into you.”
With a firm thrust, he pushes up and I’m mesmerized by the visual of his cock disappearing inside me. My entire body clenches when he’s fully seated. The connection ignites an emotion I can’t put a name to.
“Yeah, Sky,” he encourages, his grip on my hips constricting as he thrusts deeper.
His fingers move with expert precision, rubbing my clit as he continues to pump into me, each movement sending waves of pleasure. Tension coils tighter in my belly.
“Zach,” I moan. “I’m so close.”
“Let go for me,” he urges. “I want you to think about what we’re doing every minute of today.”
I surrender to the pleasure, my body trembling as I detonate.
“Oh, God!” I cry out
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, spilling inside me.
We’re both breathless, enveloped in the aftershocks. I collapse anchored to him, savoring the warmth of his body as we slowly come down from our high.
“Reality can definitely wait a little longer,” I mumble.
He chuckles softly before gently kissing my shoulder. “I agree.”