Chapter 38
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
ZACH
I saw them from the window of my bedroom.
Brett’s car was parked just outside the house, the headlights cutting through the night as the front door swung open. She stepped out first, her auburn hair catching the faint glow of the porch light, and I felt it…sharp and hot, like a blade twisting deep in my chest. Then Brett followed, leaning in casually as he whispered something to her that made her laugh softly. My hands curled into fists at my sides as I watched him take her hand and pull her close.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed, not a fleeting brush of lips. It was deliberate, tender, the kind of kiss I’d only imagined giving her. My jaw tightened, my teeth grinding together as I forced myself to look away, to focus on anything but them. The papers on my desk. The ticking of the clock. The steady rise and fall of my own shallow breaths.
But it didn’t work.
The jealousy burned so fiercely inside me that I could barely think straight. Soon enough, he drove off, leaving her there alone, and before I realized what I was doing, I was moving…striding out of my room, down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the storm raging inside me.
By the time I reached the ground floor, she was no longer there. The front door clicked shut behind her as she stepped inside, and the sound echoed in the silence of the house. I waited and watched, stopping just short of the doorway to the conservatory, my hand hovering over the frame.
What was I doing? What was I going to say? I had no idea. All I knew was that I needed to see her, to say something…anything…to make sense of this mess. The thought of her in Brett’s arms, of her lips on his, was unbearable.
A little while later, I watched her reappear with a bottle of wine in hand and couldn’t help but shake my head. She was at it again. Stopping here was all the permission I needed, so I headed in.
The kiss had been phenomenal, and the despair I’d seen in her expression afterward changed everything.
But now, as I stare at her, I truly wonder where this will go. Where I want it to go because unless we figure it out, and quickly, the damage to the family will be too grave.
So, I blurt out the words that have been ruminating in my head all day.
“Move to Paris with me,” I say.
She blinks hard, flabbergasted. “What?”
“I’ll move to Paris with you,” I repeat, the words tumbling out before I can come to my senses and stop them. “You said it yourself…you know the city, the language, the work. Tod’s wants you there, and I’ll keep the business running from there, at least for a little while, till we work things out between us and ascertain that we’re both sure about each other.”
Her breath catches at my words, her lips parting as she stares at me, wide-eyed. The bottle of wine she holds trembles slightly in her grip, and I can see the storm of emotions flashing across her face…confusion, disbelief, and something deeper. Something raw.
“Zack,” she whispers, as though my name is too heavy for her voice to carry.
I step closer, drawn by the undeniable pull between us, and gently take the bottle from her hands. Setting it on the small table, I meet her gaze, letting every barrier I’ve built crumble before her. There’s no use pretending anymore. Not after everything.
“Let’s stop pretending,” I say, my voice low but steady.
Tears well in her hazel eyes, and she blinks rapidly, trying to suppress them. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “Why would you…why now? Why so suddenly?”
I reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, my thumb lingering against her cheek. “Because I’m tired of fighting this,” I admit, my words carrying the weight of every sleepless night, every moment I’ve tried to convince myself this wasn’t real. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you when it’s all I can think about. And I think you feel the same.”
Her breath hitches, and a single tear escapes, trailing down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away as gently as I can.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “For being so … cold to you in Rome. For giving the stipulation that I did.”
“I want you,” she breathes against my lips, the words soft but filled with certainty. “I want this.”
Her confession ignites something in me. My hands grip her waist as if she might vanish if I let go. Her warmth seeps into my skin, igniting something primal and consuming. I press her against the edge of the table, lifting her slightly as I lean in, my lips capturing hers with a desperation I can’t contain. She’s all I can think about, all I can feel.
Her hands tangle in my hair, tugging me closer, and I groan into her mouth, the sound raw and guttural. My fingers find the hem of her dress, and without breaking the kiss, I push it up, exposing the smooth, silken expanse of her thighs. My hands glide over her skin, tracing the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist. She gasps against my lips, her breath hot and uneven, and it only fuels the fire roaring inside me.
“Zack,” she whispers, her voice trembling but filled with need.
I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Not now. Not when she’s here, pliant and eager in my arms. I lift her onto the table, her legs wrapping around my waist as my hands explore every inch of her body. Her dress pools around her hips, and my palms glide up to her breasts, cupping them through the thin fabric of her bra. She arches into my touch, her head falling back as I kiss my way down her neck, my lips and tongue savoring the taste of her skin.
“You’re perfect,” I murmur against her collarbone, my voice rough with desire. “Every inch of you.”
Her fingers clutch at my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as I lower the straps of her dress, baring her completely to me. The sight of her steals what little breath I have left. I take my time, my hands and mouth worshiping her. I trail kisses down the curve of her neck, over the swell of her breasts, my tongue teasing her sensitive peaks until she’s trembling beneath me, her soft cries driving me mad.
When I finally lower my pants, the need to be inside her becomes unbearable. I grip her hips, positioning her at the edge of the table, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, I enter her. She gasps, her body tightening around me as I fill her completely. The sensation is overwhelming…hot, wet, and impossibly perfect. I press my forehead to hers, trying to catch my breath as I pull back slightly, then thrust again, setting a rhythm that makes her cling to me like I’m her lifeline.
The table creaks beneath us, the sound echoing in the quiet of the conservatory, and I freeze, my heart pounding. Her eyes fly open, wide with worry, and I know we can’t keep this up here. Not like this. Not with the risk of someone hearing us.
I scoop her up effortlessly, her legs still wrapped around me and carry her to the armchair near the window. Settling into the seat, I position her astride me, her knees on either side of my thighs. She looks down at me, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses, and for a moment, all I can do is stare. She’s stunning, absolutely breathtaking, and I can’t believe she’s here with me.
“Zack,” she whispers again, her hands framing my face as she leans down to kiss me. “Please.”
I don’t need any more encouragement. I grip her hips, guiding her as she lowers herself onto me, taking me in inch by agonizing inch. She throws her head back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as a soft moan escapes her lips. I capture the sound with my mouth, kissing her deeply as she begins to move, her body finding a rhythm that matches mine perfectly.
The chair creaks beneath us, and I realize she’s too loud, her cries of pleasure filling the space around us. I reach up, covering her mouth with my hand as I drive into her harder, deeper, my control slipping with every thrust.
“Shh,” I murmur against her ear, my voice hoarse. “You’re going to wake the whole house.”
Her eyes meet mine, wide and glassy with pleasure, and she nods, biting her lip to stifle the sounds. But it’s not enough. The way she moves, the way she clings to me, it’s like she’s trying to consume me, to merge our bodies completely. And God, I want it too. I want to lose myself in her, to forget everything but the way she feels around me, the way she looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
I kiss her again, my hand sliding into her hair as I hold her close, my other hand gripping her hip to steady her as we move together. The tension builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps, sending us both over the edge. She cries out against my mouth, her body shuddering around me as I follow her, the release so intense it leaves me trembling.
For a moment, we stay like that, tangled together in the chair, our breaths mingling as we come down from the high. Her head rests against my chest, and I press a kiss to her hair, my hands trailing gently up and down her back.
“We can’t stay here,” I whisper after a while, my voice soft but firm. “Someone could walk in.”
She nods, her body still languid and pliant in my arms. Gently I guide her still shaky legs upstairs with me to my bedroom. When we reach the door, she hesitates, glancing back toward her own room, but I don’t let her go. Instead, I pull her inside, closing the door behind us and laying her down on the bed.
As we settle beneath the covers, completely sated, her head resting against my shoulder, I feel an unfamiliar sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, I’m exactly where I want to be.