Chapter 23
twenty-three
AUTUMN
Well, shit. I wasn’t expecting that.
Zeke’s got a joint in his pocket, and he’s looking at me with his eyebrows raised.
There’s a huge part of me that wants to take him up on his offer, to stand here with our backs against the brick wall of the building and take turns puffing.
It’s been a long time since I was high, and Zeke seems like a fun person to get high with.
But…
“It’s illegal in public,” I say, very much aware of how old and responsible I sound.
Zeke’s smile is devious. “I know. It’ll be fun.”
“Mmm…”
I finger the joint in his pocket. He’s right.
It would be fun. We’d stand here together in the muggy night air, the sky darkening around us, letting the haze seep through us until we’re fuzzy and floating.
And, although I’m kind of annoyed at myself for thinking it, I’m sure Zeke’s every touch would be electric.
But then reality comes strutting in again.
If someone saw us—if, god forbid, I got arrested or something, smoking weed with a kid ten years younger than me—I don’t even want to know what Patrick’s mom would do.
Kick me out of her building, for starters.
So… nope. As fun as smoking a joint with Zeke sounds, I can’t risk it.
“A different time,” I say, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But you can. If you want.”
Zeke scoffs. “Please. What kind of an asshole do you take me for? That’d be rude.” He shrugs, unfazed. “I just thought I’d offer, in case you wanted to.”
“Thanks.”
“No prob.”
I pull my hand out of his pocket, and we stand there for a minute, neither of us talking.
Zeke’s leaning back against the building, looking up at the fire escape.
The outline of his angled jaw, silhouetted against the fading light, is sexy as hell.
With just the two of us there, the night feels intimate. Like I could ask him anything.
“So who’s the girl from the clambake?”
Zeke turns to look at me. “Jenny? She’s a friend.”
“Like… a friend with benefits?” I hate myself for asking, but I want to know. Even if it’s none of my business.
Zeke shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave mine. “Why’s it matter?”
“It doesn’t,” I say, shrugging back.
A small smile dances around Zeke’s mouth. “You sure about that?”
God. His lips look so good right now. “I’m sure.”
“Alright,” Zeke says, giving me a sly smile and breaking eye contact to look back up at the rooftop of the neighboring building. I hear him inhale in the twilight, and I close my eyes, enjoying his closeness in spite of myself.
Suddenly, without warning, Zeke’s mouth is at my neck.
He grazes my earlobe with his teeth, flicks his tongue into the small, hollow space behind my ear, and my eyes fly open.
I’m completely sober, but his touch is like a flip switch just the same.
In two seconds, he’s got every cell of my body ignited. Every nerve on high alert.
Zeke brings a hand to my face, his long, cool fingers tracing my jawline. I shiver, and he moves closer, dragging his fingers toward my collarbone.
“Zeke,” I whisper, barely managing to find my voice. “We’re in public.”
“I know,” he whispers back. His lips part into a smile that’s too gorgeous to be real. “It’ll be fun.”
This time, I don’t resist. I can’t resist. I let my head fall back against the brick wall and Zeke moves in front of me, his whole front body pressed against me and his mouth fully on mine.
I can feel the length of his erection against my stomach, but when my hand inches toward it, he gives a small shake of his head.
“I don’t need it,” he says, lips still brushing mine as he talks. “What I need… is this…”
He goes back in for another kiss, drawing my tongue into his mouth as he unbuttons my jeans without even looking. Holy shit. This guy.
Zeke’s fingers dip inside my panties, trailing lower and lower while he kisses me. He drags his fingertips through my folds, and I know I must already be insanely wet because he groans into my mouth. “Fuck. That’s all for me?”
My reply is so low it’s barely audible. “I don’t see anyone else around.”
He pulls back from kissing me to grin, and then suddenly his fingertips are at my clit, and he’s rubbing it gently, his mouth and teeth on my neck.
“You and that damn coconut shampoo.” His voice is something between a laugh and a growl. “My whole damn bed smelled like coconut after you left. Drove me fucking crazy. All I could think about was yanking this gorgeous hair of yours.”
He gives my hair a hard tug with one hand, his hand down below keeping its rhythm even, its pressure steady.
All I want is to rock my hips against him, signal to his body with mine that what he’s doing is spot-on, but I’m also all up in my head.
Knowing that someone could walk by any moment and see us against the wall—Zeke with his hands down my pants and my hands tangled helplessly in his hair—is both turning me on and scaring me shitless.
“You’re thinking again, hot stuff,” Zeke murmurs, his tone deliciously chiding. He holds my gaze. “I guess I better change that.”
And then his fingers are inside me, firm and seeking and so fucking deep I can feel the heel of his hand against my clit.
I draw a sharp breath. Zeke smiles that ridiculously dazzling smile of his, still holding my gaze as he fucks in and out of me with his fingers.
I can’t help it then—I buck against his hand, desperate for him to keep going.
“I don’t know if I should even tell you this…” His voice is low as his fingers work my pussy. “But there’s a ghost… on the opposite side of the alley. And he’s extremely interested in watching me finger you.”
My heart speeds up. I glance over Zeke’s shoulder toward the neighboring building, but there’s no one there.
Obviously—it’s a ghost. I don’t know what I was expecting to see.
But it’s just as well, because Zeke’s thumb is circling my clit as he strokes his fingers down my front wall and I whimper in spite of myself.
If this ghost is watching, he’s in for a show. I’m also hoping against hope that no one from the bar comes out to the alley for a smoke break. Because if Zeke keeps up whatever the fuck his fingers are doing, I don’t think I’m going to be able to not moan. And knowing someone’s watching…
Fuck. It’s kind of naughty. And it one hundred percent turns me on.
“I can’t blame him for watching,” Zeke continues, his voice low and deep in my ear. “You’re beautiful. All pressed up against the wall like this for me. With your hair undone, your cheeks all pink and gorgeous. And these fucking freckles—”
Zeke bends his head toward me, brushes a gentle kiss along my cheekbone. His hand below doesn’t stop, just keeps on fucking, keeps on stroking. My limbs feel like they’re melting.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he says. He’s picking up speed now, his thumb still deftly circling my clit as his fingers drive up into me.
“The feeling’s—mutual,” I manage to gasp out.
“I can’t keep my fucking hands off you.”
Zeke moves his mouth back to my neck, my collarbone, the hollow behind my ear.
I can feel his teeth as well as his tongue, and his bite-kisses are so damn hot I almost can’t stand it.
But shit, he’s got game. I mean—that’s what this is, right?
This stuff he’s saying? He knows what he’s doing, I’ll give him that.
I’m trying not to think about how many women he’s done this with to have perfected the art so much.
“Is that the same thing you say to all the girls?” I ask, my face upturned, eyes searching the rooftops against the darkening sky. My tone says it’s a joke—but I’m not sure it is. I don’t know anything anymore.
Zeke gives a low chuckle. There’s a strange sort of half smile on his lips as he pulls back to stare at me, blue eyes searching mine. His long, slim fingers are crooked inside me, and he drags one down the sensitive, ridged spot there, never breaking eye contact as he says:
“No.”
And then it’s like he’s decided—it’s time for me to come.
With a deep thrust of his fingers up into me, he locks my hips into place with his own, increasing the pressure of his strokes inside.
It’s enough to make me gasp, let my head fall back against the crumbling brick behind me, surrendering myself completely to whatever glorious thing he’s doing to me.
He doesn’t say anything else, just fucks me smoothly with his fingers while he stares at me, his heavy breaths mingling with my own. The pressure in my pelvis is building, the tingling in my thighs growing. Any thoughts I still had in my head have gone straight out the window.
“Fuck,” I breathe. I have no clue if my voice is a whisper or a shout, a whine or a moan. All I know is I’m not going to last much longer. I’m going to come loose soon, come shattering apart right here in the alley, come bursting over the edge like—
Zeke claps his hand over my mouth at the same time that the pressure explodes inside me, flooding me with warmth, and sending every cell of my being into glorious, resplendent lightness.
I spasm around his fingers, and he cups my pussy hard, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit and wringing out every last drop of pleasure from my gasping body.
“God, you’re sexy when you come,” he murmurs, eyeing me in satisfaction. “I could watch you do this over and over and over. Ghost over there’s enjoying it, too.”
I let out a shaky breath, my eyes still closed. The sound of Zeke’s rich, velvety voice in my ear is the perfect comedown from that magnificent, soaring high he took me to. It’s a good thing his hip is still pinning me to the wall, because there’s zero hope of my legs supporting me right now.
As my eyes flutter open, willing myself back into reality, a flash of movement catches my eye. It’s only a glance, a jerk of the head from someone on the street. But it jolts me out of my reverie, sending the darkness of the rooftops and the rush of cars on Main Street all crashing back at once.
I stiffen, whip my head around toward the movement. “Someone saw.”
Zeke’s unperturbed. The corner of his mouth pulls up into a halfway smirk, and he leans forward to nip at my earlobe. “Good.”
He slides his fingers out of me, leaving my jeans unzipped for a moment as he sucks his fingers clean.
It’s hot, watching him do that. Knowing this sexy, sought-after man finds me attractive enough to finger-fuck in the middle of the street with nothing in it for him except the act of getting to watch me come.
Jesus. Patrick would never.
It’s at that moment my stomach decides to growl like a crazed, caged bear. Zeke bursts out laughing, but I’m mortified. We’d been standing here in sexy silence, and then all of a sudden my body has to come out with that?
But he just keeps laughing lightly, oblivious to my burning cheeks as he buttons my jeans and nudges me away from the wall.
“Jesus, hot stuff,” he says, his grin ridiculously adorable. “I’d have fucking fed you first if I knew you were hungry. You’re supposed to tell me this shit! Come on. We’re getting pizza.”
With a playful slap of my ass, he slides an arm around my waist and squeezes, guiding me back toward the alley. And even though I’m not quite sure how we got here, or why Zeke’s not hanging out with some fun chick his own age who’ll smoke a goddamn joint with him, I don’t resist.
Like I said: I can’t resist. Zeke Holloway is irresistible. And I’m not even mad.