7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Aspen
I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Maybe I’m actually outside freezing to death and imagining all of this. I pinch myself, trying to see if I’m hallucinating and then flinch from the pain. It’s really happening. Zane is really making out with me in his den on Christmas Eve. His hands are really up my shirt, and that’s his actual dick pressing against me. I dare a quick glance down. The outline of him is unmistakable beneath the fleece pajama pants.
“Come upstairs with me,” he begs. “I’ll give you all of me.”
Come upstairs? I think, suddenly panicking. Am I really sure I want to do this? I’ve admittedly never been up to Zane’s room. I’ve imagined what it might be like countless times, but I’ve never actually seen it. My heartbeat races as my doubts and guilt bubble to the surface all over again. His mom has always had one rule. No girls upstairs at all, period. Hard stop.
“Won’t your mom be suspicious?” I hiss.
“Mmmm.” He moans. “So what if she is?” He drags a finger down my lips, parting them with his touch. “Gosh, your lips look delicious.”
He’s ignoring my protests, and who can blame him? I want to turn the voices in my head off, begging me not to betray Breck and ruin everything. “My brother,” I whisper. “What if he breaks down the door?”
“Aspen, stop. Breck is hundreds of miles away. There’s no way he’s going to break down the door, let alone make it here in this storm. You have the text messages. He’s stuck.” Zane runs his hands through my hair, reassuringly.
I lean into his touch, every inch of me aching to feel his soft caress. I long for his fingers to ravish me, quieting every voice screaming to stop before it goes too far. His mouth is falling against mine again, begging me.
“Come upstairs, Aspen. We’ll never have another chance like this.” His voice is melting away every single one of my reservations, leaving me burning with desire. It beckons for me to listen, leading me to imagine the way I might explode on him like the waves upon a tropical shore.
“The rumors could be vicious.” I sigh, resisting his request.
“Gosh, your lips are delicious.” Zane’s lips brush mine, and then he’s sucking them between his in a dirty, underhanded, power play poised to convince me I want this. My body burns in response with the desire to have him.
Gasping for air, I take a step away from Zane. I need space. I need to clear my head. Do I want this? Do I really want this?
“Maybe just one more joint.” I suggest.
He smiles, looking me over from head to toe. The glint in his eyes makes me think he understands why I need to find a way to think clearly. Everything about him is intoxicating. My body is addicted to him. I need to be able to think straight.
“Anything for you. I’ll roll another one, then we can go upstairs and take our time.” He’s such a gentleman.
I nod in agreement, eagerly looking forward to what he’s suggesting. Even though deep inside of me, the voice that’s slowly growing louder is screaming that I don’t want to take my time. In all reality, I shouldn’t be doing this slow or fast. There’s a scandal at the root of all of it all, and if anyone found out,—especially Breck...I shiver. The overwhelming, sinking feeling that what I am doing is wrong and I need to get home hits me once more. I look at Zane rolling the joint. When he catches me, he says, “I’ve never seen a blizzard as bad as this before.”
“I’ve got to go home.” I plead with big, watery eyes.
He finishes his task of rolling the joint, lighting it as he strolls over to the fire once more. I watch the way his lips tug and pull against the paper. Despite how badly I want his lips on mine again, I watch cautiously. He holds the joint out to me. Inviting me to take my place next to him. My traitorous legs accept his invitation, and then the rest of my body is entirely engulfed by his. Those big, strong muscular arms he’s spent so much time building in an attempt to fill an empty, lonely void wrap around me. It’s exhilarating. My back is pressed against his chest, the record playing softly in the background while the fireplace casts an enchanting glow over the den. He takes another drag then leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Baby, you’ll freeze out there. I can make you a bed on the couch if you insist.”
He passes me the joint just like before and I take a long drag while he pulls me even further into his embrace. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back with every inhale he takes. His hot breath falling sensually against my neck. When I exhale, the smoke engulfs the two of us, snaking around like warm tendrils, drawing us closer. I can practically feel every inch of him as we sway slowly to the music. When I try to hand the joint back to him, he guides my hand so that I’m holding it to his lips and takes a hit. It sends a wave of pleasure washing over my body as his lips just barely graze my fingertips softly. With his other hand free, his dangerous fingers surprise me, traveling back up my sweatshirt to trace the curves of my breasts.
This time, when his voice lands against my ear, it’s filled with need. “Say, why don’t you lend me your sweatshirt?”
It leaves me blushing. My cheeks heated and red, not from the warmth of the fire, but at his suggestion that I take my sweatshirt off. He nods his head to the window as if offering me the alternative choice I keep begging for. “It’s up to your knees out there.” Zane rumbles so low and throaty, it has my legs trembling.
I’m helpless when it comes to his touch and the things his words are doing to me. This is exactly what I’ve wanted. It’s everything I sought to accomplish tonight. The voice inside my head is quiet, as if it tired itself out from yelling. I moan as his fingertips brush over the hard pebbles my nipples have become. “You’ve really been grand,” I whisper in response, finally ready to head upstairs with him, yet terrified I could change my mind at any moment.
Zane plucks the joint from my hand, crushing it against the mantel to extinguish it. He spins me around so that I am facing him, lacing his fingers with my own. His kisses land against my neck. In between his kisses, he whispers on, “I thrill when I touch your hand.”
His words send chills down my spine, and I startle, pulling away from him. Before we do this, before we really do this, maybe I should try to make him see just one more time that it changes everything. I can’t live with the guilt of knowing I ruined their friendship without trying to tell him at least one more time.
“But don’t you see?” I whisper, my hand reaching up to cradle his face. The tiny bit of stubble tickles my palm and I have to resist the urge to laugh at the sensation.
“What is there to see, Aspen? Please tell me? All I see is you and me, together. No more lying, no more playing pretend, just us together, and it’s fucking amazing.”
“It’s so much bigger than just us, though, Zane. What about Breck? What about his rules?” I protest, refusing to allow his pleas to convince me what we are about to do isn’t wrong.
“Fuck the rules, Aspen. I’ve played by the rules for years and yet, here I am alone with you and unable to resist the temptation. Tell Breck whatever you want. Blame it all on me. Say I forced you to do it. I don’t care, but I refuse to spend another moment denying that we both don’t want this.” His words are firm.
He’s made up his mind to the extent he would rather take the fall than walk away from whatever is about to happen. I sigh, pressing my forehead against his chest. I can hear the steady thud of his heartbeat racing as he waits for me to respond. My silence would be deafening if not for the sound of the crackling fire.
“How can you do this to me?” He asks. “Say something, anything, Aspen.”
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow. With the Jeep parked right outside and all the party guests leaving, someone is bound to say something.” I’m spiraling. Why am I like this? Why am I fighting this so hard when I know that he’s right? I want this just as badly as he does.
Zane’s fingers lightly trace my jawline, then tilt my chin so I am staring at his hooded eyes. “Look at me, Aspen.” He rasps as his other hand grasps mine firmly. “Think of my lifelong sorrow,” he moans as he glides my palm across his rock-hard cock.
“At least if there will be plenty implied.” I gasp, my words barely an audible whisper. He’s moving my hand up and down his length, or is he? I can’t bring myself to look away from his eyes. His face is contorted into a look of immense pleasure. I pause, unsure if it’s him guiding me or if my hands are moving on their own accord.
“Don’t stop,” he groans. “Please, don’t stop. You can think you should go all you want; but if I let you go, and you caught pneumonia and died, well, then it won’t change the outcome for me. Breck will still never forgive me, and he will still kick my ass. We may as well enjoy ourselves.”
I think about what he’s saying and resume stroking his hard length. It grows, filling my hand as his eyes beg and plead with mine. I’m still unable to look away. Even if I did, something tells me he would only demand I look at him again.
“What do you say, Aspen? Will you stay? Will you let me take what’s mine? What has always belonged to me?”