Chapter 20 Paige #2
Now at my side, he slips his hand in the hollow of my waist while his lips brush my forehead. I melt into him and both his arms hold me close. ”Exhausted?”
“Uh-huh. My feet throb. I’m ready to chop them off.”
“Why didn’t you call JP? He’d have arranged to bring you another pair of shoes.”
Good-looking, sexy, and smart. I don’t stand a chance. My lips twitch upward in a smile. Of course he has a simple and logical solution, something I’d never think of because I’m used to doing things for myself. I groan. “I should have called you and you’d have saved the day.”
I don’t generally stroke his ego—it’s big enough without my help—but I gotta give him credit where credit is due. He chuckles appreciatively, walking me farther into the place. “How was the meeting?”
“Fine. Don’t want to talk about it.” I bury my nose into his chest, breathing in his gloriously masculine scent. Instantly, I’m more relaxed.
“Hungry?”
“No. There was food at the meeting. I just want a bath and bed.”
“That can be arranged. Come.” We turn toward the stairs. “How about a foot massage?”
I stop to stare up at him as if he’s a god. Reverent and grateful. Inky curls hang over his forehead, no longer perfectly brushed back in place like they usually are. He looks younger. Boyish, yet still sexy.
“Is that even a question?”
“I believe it is. Let’s get you into a bath and I’ll rub your feet.”
My fingers curl into the fabric of his crisp shirt; I am weak-kneed and ready to weep. “Oh my God, I love you.”
My head snaps up to look at him. Fear flashes in his steely blue eyes and we both stiffen. “I mean, c’mon, rub my feet. That’s one way to have me at your mercy.” I’m animated, eyes bright and forcing the shine into my voice to hide the regret of my reckless slip of the tongue. “Yes, please.”
He shakes his head, an artful smile tiptoeing on his full lips as his features soften. We make it to the bedroom in silence where he draws a bath, adding lavender-scented bubbles, and I sink into the hot tub.
Kneeling, he dips his hands into the water, searching and finding one foot and then the other. Grabbing my ankles, he places both my feet on the edge of the tub and his strong, magical fingers massage away the ache. “Now tell me, how was the meeting?”
I moan, dipping a little farther into the tub. “I don’t know what I’m doing or what your grandmother was thinking in asking me to do this.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No.” I release a fatigued sigh, fluttering my eyes open.
He stares at me, heavy-lidded, roaming my calves, most of my body hidden by white foam, and then his heated gaze lands on the swell of my breasts before languidly moving up to my face. I smirk, pursing my lips, and close my eyes again.
“Everything was fine. Everyone was lovely. They approved the budget and the charity.”
“So what’s the problem?” He shifts, an elbow grazing my exposed knee.
“It feels like they’re being nice to me because they like me, not because I know what I’m doing.” Voicing my fears, especially to Zach, is both liberating and disturbing.
As if needling at my truth or vulnerability, his thumb digs deep into a particularly tender spot on the arch of my left foot and my eyes spring open on a whimper.
“Paige, liking you has nothing to do with it. Believe me, if they thought you were incompetent, it would be a feeding frenzy. They’d attack and leave you to die.” My spine straightens and a foot slips back into the tub. Unwaveringly serious, he says, “They’re a ruthless bunch.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I sit upright and fold my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Because if so, you need to work on that. You’ve done the opposite.” Resting my chin on my knees, I stare up at him gloomily.
“Hey, how so? You said they approved your proposal. It doesn’t get better than that.” He pushes a damp, dangling lock behind my ear.
“I guess so. I just feel out of my depth. Anyway, are you still going to Singapore tomorrow?”
Zach told me of his travel plans only a day ago and the idea of him being so far away is hard to fathom. We haven’t been apart for more than twelve hours at a time for weeks now and while he works a lot and so do I, we’re close.
“My flight is at six a.m. I’ll be gone before you wake up.”
A shiver skates through me as the hollowness of his departure sinks in. He asked me to go with him, but I can’t. Between my job and the gala—it’s only three weeks away—there’s no way I can leave. But I wish I could.
“And how long will you be gone?”
“A week tops. Maybe less. It depends on how negotiations go. Why? You going to miss me?” He snags his lush lower lip between his teeth and quirks a dark brow.
I laugh, splashing him and shaking my head. “You wish.”
Firmly pinching my chin to hold me in place, he dips his face and brings our mouths together for a kiss. His lips linger on mine and he says, etching the words into my skin, “I’ll miss you.”
I almost can’t breathe. Soft words with no truth undo me.
Truth or lie or wishful thinking, I have to remind myself of what we are.
I won’t lie to myself any longer. But even knowing all that, I want him, and with a racing heart and aching sex, I step out of the tub drenched, and water pools at our feet as I undress him.
Zach’s hands grab and hold me. Kissing and licking at my wet flesh, he leads me into the dark bedroom, taking a seat facing me and inviting me into his lap.
Straddling him, I claw at his broad shoulders as his crown rubs against my swollen lips and I suck in a breath when his solid length slides thick and wide into me.
The look in his eyes is most affecting. Electric dominance.
“Zach.” My legs tremble, voice cracks, and my head tilts back, mouth wide open.
I hang onto his hard muscles, shifting and bunching, as he rocks into me. Raw, unrelenting, and fast. My body shudders and goosebumps pop along my flesh as my nipples scrape his chest.
Long and rigid, he thrusts deeper into me and I press my face into his now damp neck inhaling the scent and tasting the salt of him. Unbelievably masculine and ruggedly sexy.
There’s no way something that feels this incredible is a lie.
His hot mouth is everywhere, and he hoists me up, my ankles hooking around his back just above his firm ass as he walks us to the bed. He’s still inside of me keeping a fluid pace that’s making me crazy and tearing me apart.
My body pulses and my core clenches around his cock as my name roars from his lips both possessive and primal. Spilling into me, he holds my face between his large warm hands and gazes down at me.
Wild waves hang in his eyes. Chiseled cheekbones, dark scruff scattered along his strong jaw, and penetrating blue eyes fill my vision.
The weight of him is deliriously perfect, filling me, surrounding me, causing me to scream in ecstasy and weep in shame.
My second orgasm chases his, pleasure ripping through me. It’s almost too much to take.
We may be a lie but we’re the sweetest lie ever told.
I don’t want, nor do I need, to hear the truth.
Entangled and content, we slip into sleep easily and I only stir when he traces the curve of my eyelashes, his fingertip sliding softly over the crest of my cheek.
Nestled under the covers, I feel the void of him at my back.
My lashes flutter but I don’t open my eyes.
Maybe if I don’t face him, it won’t be true.
He’ll still be spooning me and his trip won’t be real. But why am I kidding myself?
Only fools indulge in make-believe, yet here I am, devouring every tale.
I feel his gaze on me like the sun and as a sunflower, basking in its glow, I soak up his devotion because I’ll only have it for a certain length of time before it’s gone.