Nine
ALYSSA
IWAKE to the feel of kisses being run down my face, down my neck and back up again.
Smiling, I can tell who is responsible for those kisses by his scent alone.
Breathing in deeply, I inhale that woodsy and citrus scent.
Wait, inhaling through my nose again, I note there is another scent that registers to my brain, coffee.
“I smell coffee,” I mumble with my eyes still closed. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming and there is coffee in my near future.”
I can feel the vibration of Zac’s chuckle. “Time to wake up, sunshine. Yes, I have a vanilla latte ready and waiting.” Well, that does it.
My eyes pop open and I’m greeted by a vision that has me believing I must still be dreaming. Zac, shirtless, all those tanned muscles on display right in front of me, all within reaching distance. Even better—okay, maybe not better but definitely equal to—he’s holding out a coffee cup.
“I honestly don’t know what I want to reach for more, you or the coffee.” I smile, taking the coffee cup and bringing it straight to my mouth. At the perfect taste of the vanilla coffee concoction, I moan, “Mmm, this is worth being woken up for.”
“So, I lose out to coffee? Well, if that isn’t a blow to the ego, I don’t know what is.” Zac is pouting. It’s cute.
Taking my time, I take a huge gulp of coffee, slowly put the cup down onto the bedside table, and then I’m on him.
Reaching up, I grab his head, pulling it closer to meet mine.
He doesn’t put up any struggle. Smashing my lips to his, I kiss him like it’s the first and last kiss, like his lips provide the elements I need to continue breathing.
I try to pour everything I’m feeling into the kiss.
He doesn’t let me down, returning my fever with a frantic version of his own, taking control as he tilts my head and caresses my mouth with his tongue.
By the time we pull apart, I’m breathless and I can feel my lips are kiss swollen.
“It was a really, really hard choice. You came a very close second to the coffee, but it’s a vanilla latte.” Picking up the coffee cup, I inhale the aroma before sipping at it.
Zac shakes his head, trailing his hand up and down my leg. “I’ll just have to work on it a bit more. There are things I could do that would give you a much better wake up than that sugary syrup you like to call coffee.”
I highly doubt it, but I’m not about to stop him from trying. “Well, hot stuff, why don’t you give it your best shot and I’ll let you know how you rate.” I slowly pull the blanket down to reveal the top of my breasts, stopping just before my nipples are uncovered.
“As much as it kills me right now to say this, we don’t have time. You have plans with your friends, and honestly, I’m a little scared of what those women will do to my club if I don’t get you there.” The whole time he’s speaking to my breasts, his eyes fixated on the mounds.
Trying to entice him to forget the plans, I let the blanket drop completely to my waist and with as much innocence as I can put into my voice, I say, “Well, if you’re sure there’s no time…” I leave the sentence hanging.
Zac licks his lips, bringing his eyes up to meet mine with a hardened stare. “That’s not fair. How am I meant to walk away from an offering like that?”
He reaches his hands out and grabs hold of my breasts, one in each hand, squeezing a few times. I arch my back up towards him, moaning a little. How can his touch affect me so easily? Pulling away and standing up, he smirks that panty-melting smirk.
“You know what? I think I will wait to ravish this body when we get home. I didn’t do it enough justice this afternoon, but tonight, I plan on rectifying that. Get ready. We need to leave in an hour,” he demands, walking out the bedroom door.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I decide it will have to do.
I’m wearing a gold sequin mini dress; thin spaghetti straps cross over at the back down to my waist, leaving the top half of my back exposed.
The dress is loose fitting. The fabric dips down between my breasts, making them look like they’re being hugged.
It’s short, much shorter than anything I would normally wear.
Sarah threw the dress at me as I was packing a bag earlier today and said, “If you don’t wear it, I will comment on your lover boy’s endearing qualities all night long.”
So, instead of being tempted to kill my best friend with pure, unjustified, jealousy-fuelled rage, I’m wearing the damn dress, paired with a pair of gold strappy heels.
I’ve left my hair down in waves and attempted to give myself a subtle smoky eye, paired with bright red lips.
Being best friends with a makeup artist has its perks; you pick up a thing or two over the years.
Coming to terms with the fact that I can’t hide out in Zac’s bathroom anymore, I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves.
Why I’m nervous, I have absolutely no freaking idea.
Well, it could be anxiety about what Zac’s reaction to the dress will be; he’s either going to hate it or love it.
I remind myself on the walk down the hallway out to the living room that it doesn’t matter either way.
I dress for me, not for the approval of any man.
Stepping into the living room, I search for Zac. He’s nowhere to be seen. Dean and Bray, however, are both lounging on the sofas with a drink in their hands. My heels click on the floor as I step further into the room, and their heads snap up and around in my direction.
“Holy fucking shit,” Bray says, shaking his head at me. Well, okay then, not really sure what to make of that statement. Before I conjure up a response, Dean speaks up, “I’m guessing Zac hasn’t seen her yet. This is going to be fun.” He rubs his hands together and smiles wide.
“I don’t recall burying bodies ever being fun, Dean, but I guess it might be worth it to see Zac lose a bit of that always calm and in control demeanour.”
Having no idea what the hell they’re talking about, I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows I didn’t notice when I was in this room yesterday. The view here is breathtaking. I can see the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the city lights twinkling like fairy lights.
“This view is breathtaking,” I say, still mesmerised by the city lights.
I hear a throat clear. “I agree; the view is breathtaking.”
Spinning around, I see Zac. His eyes travel up my body from my feet and by the time his eyes meet mine, they are wide open, a mixture of shock and arousal crossing his face.
“Holy fucking shit,” Zac grunts out.
“Yep, that’s what I said.” Bray smirks at me. I can feel the shades of red creeping up my neck.
Tilting my head, I inspect Bray closer. He’s good looking for sure, big with obvious muscle on top of muscle.
He’s wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt.
I can see tattoos covering both of his arms. He has bad boy heartbreaker written all over him.
No matter how good looking he is, he just doesn’t do it for me.
Nothing. Zilch. Not even a flicker of an ember.
When I look at Zac though, who is wearing a very well-fitted navy suit with a white dress shirt—he has a dark navy striped tie hanging loosely around his neck—forget about an ember. Getting my fill of Zac starts a bonfire within me, my panties instantly wet.
Zac walks up to Bray and slaps him across the head. “Get your greedy fucking eyes off her.”
Dean and Bray both laugh as Zac continues to move until he stops directly in front of me, effectively blocking their view of me.
“Sunshine, please tell me there is more of this dress you left back in the bedroom.” His fingers trail along the hem of the dress on my upper thigh.
Squinting my eyes at him, I take a step back, crossing my arms and asking, “What’s wrong with my dress, Zac?”
“Nothing, I love the dress. You look stunning, baby. What I don’t like is that every other asshole in a ten- mile radius will have their eyes glued to you, and I’m probably going to have to get dumbo one and dumbo two over there to bury a few bodies before the end of the night.”
“I said that too.” Bray laughs.
I angle my head around Zac’s body and glare at him, raising my eyebrows. He holds his hands up in a surrender motion. Taking the win, I set my glare back to Zac.
“You have two choices and I strongly recommend you choose wisely. One.” I hold up a finger.
“You can step into the year 2020. You know, where men don’t actually get to tell women what they can and can’t wear out in public?
And when you’ve come to your senses, you can take me to your club to meet my friends.
I might even let you stick around, even though it’s girls’ night.
” I pause and Zac grits his teeth, jaw locked.
Oh boy, he is not happy with that option.
Continuing, I hold up a second finger. “Two, you can go and do whatever it is you would normally do on a Sunday night. I will call an Uber and make my own way to your club and have a great time with my friends, without you.”
“Damn, bro, didn’t see that one coming. I thought she was a quiet little timid thing, but kitten’s got claws.
” Bray laughs, coming up to me to wrap an arm around my shoulder.
I look up at Zac and see him fuming. Imagine a cartoon character with smoke coming out of its ears, that’s Zac right now, only no actual smoke.
“I approve by the way, Lyssa, and if this douche chooses option two, I will be more than happy to give you a ride to the club.” Bray smirks down at me in what I’m guessing is a smirk that would melt the panties right off a lot of girls.
Zac actually growls, full on, out loud growls, like a bloody grizzly bear. “Because you’re my brother, and you happen to make me a shitload of money with that arm, I’m going to give you five seconds to remove it from my woman before I fucking break it,” he grits out.