Page 5

Zoey

I must be out of my goddamned mind.

This is the worst thing I could have done with someone I hope to have a professional relationship with. The only thing worse than kissing the man is if I had climbed onto his lap and proceeded to hump him like a bitch in heat.

Oh wait…I did!

God, this is the kind of thing that kills careers. If I get this interview with Zach and later everyone finds out what we did, I might as well kiss my career goodbye. No one will ever take me seriously again.

A part of me knew that kissing the man was a mistake, but when I saw his mask slip and uncertainty flood his eyes, I was taken aback. I felt a need to comfort him.

And you couldn’t use words like a normal person? mocks a voice at the back of my head.

“I…um…” Words fail me as I push back to stare at the man’s face. The vulnerable look in his eyes is gone, and in its place is heat. The desire I read in his eyes is so strong it has my breath hitching in surprise and the spot between my thighs pulsing with the need for more.

But I can’t.

This is not right. I could blame the first incident on the heightened emotions of the moment, but now that I know what he tastes like, I should be on my way. I need to climb off this lap and back to my seat to figure out how to get an interview from the man without making a fool of myself more than I already have.

“After that, I’m going to need a minute before I can walk to the front door or the neighbors might call the cops.”

I flush, unable to help glancing at the obvious and obscene bulge in his pants. Jesus, how can he say something like that so casually?

I should tell him it was a mistake. That I was extremely unprofessional, and it was very uncharacteristic of me. I need to apologize, but all I can think about is how good it felt. But then I realize something I should have already. While I might have come hard riding his lap, he is still unsatisfied. Something about that doesn’t sit right, and I loudly blurt out, “I need to make you come too!”

God, could I be more awkward right now?

My words clearly surprise him as much as they do me. He trails his eyes over my body, his gaze lingering on my aching tits before settling on the spot where our bodies are connected before shooting back up to lock on mine. “You don’t need to, but I wouldn’t say no if you’re offering.”

“H-here?”

“Would you be more comfortable inside the house?” He nods toward the house, but before I can respond, he nods. “That’s a better idea.”

Zach reaches out to open the door, but I grab his hand before he can. “Wait,” I whisper, and his eyes shoot back to me. I swallow hard as I try to find the words to tell this man that I am not going to have sex with him. God, he must think me easy, jumping him when we’ve only met today.

I can’t do this. I want to but…sharing my first with a man I’ve only met isn’t ideal. Sure, I’ve watched and crushed on him for years, but that doesn’t mean I should jump into bed with him.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Zoey. It’s okay if you change your mind,” he says in a gentle way I hadn’t thought him capable of.

“No, I mean, yes. I mean, I want to, but…”

It’s a war between what is expected of me and what I want. And what I want is to slide my fingers into his short dark hair and press my lips over his. I want to feel his hands on my body, touching me in places no one ever has before. Even now, I can still feel his hardness pressed against that secret spot between my thighs, and I long to know what it feels like to press into him without the barrier of clothes between us. My nipples ache with the need to understand what it’s like to have a man touch them.

To have this man touch them.

“…I just need a second,” I manage. I need to call my friend and ask her about the birds and the bees, but I don’t tell him that. “You know…um…to do what girls do before these things!” I say, gracelessly reaching for the door this time. He watches me with humor as I push it open, but doesn’t say another word. I maneuver my limbs out of the car, nearly falling to my face but I catch myself in time. I am too mortified to look at the man, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as he smoothly exits the car, making no effort to hide his very obvious sign of arousal, and good God, it’s big.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, we might not make it into the house.”

I quickly shift my eyes from the thick ridge of his pants to the house, pretending I wasn’t shamelessly ogling the man earlier. Shit, I need to get a hold of myself before I do something else stupid.

Zach starts for the house. I watch him walk to a flower pot and reach inside before coming out with a key. He unlocks the house and walks in, and I hesitate for a second before following him. I don’t take my eyes off him as I walk through the front doors.

“Is this your childhood home?” It looks too new for it to be, but maybe it was remodeled or something.

“No, my brother and I bought it together,” he says, walking deeper into the home. “I’ve never been here before, and since Howard has a girlfriend, he’s looking to buy me out.”

I had no idea Zach even had a brother. “Are you really going to sell it to him?”

“He’s the one who actually lives here, and I am not exactly attached to it.”

Zach heads straight down the hall, and I follow behind. “But don’t you want to stay in Valor Springs? Where will you live?”

The man turns briefly to look at me, and I can read the question in his eyes. It’s almost like he’s questioning whether to trust me or not. I am, after all, looking for material to write about him, but I don’t plan on violating his privacy. He must see what he’s looking for because he nods, taking the rest of the stairs up. “I’m going to buy back my childhood home. It was placed on the market a while back, so I plan on buying it. That’s one of the reasons I came back to Valor Springs.”

He takes a left, and I follow him. “Will you take me?” I ask. “To your childhood home, I mean.”

“I’m going to see it tomorrow and possibly meet with the current owners,” he says, stopping in front of a door. “You mentioned something about needing some privacy. Here you go.”

Oh, right.

I didn’t think I could flush any deeper, but my face is practically on fire as I stare at the door. For a moment, I’d completely forgotten about our little conversation back in the car. Perhaps I was a little too focused on the man’s life to even think about where he was leading me. “I…I thought you said that you’ve never been in this house before. How do you know this is not a closest or something?”

“You are stalling.” I am, but I didn’t exactly expect him to call me out on it. “Half of this house belongs to me, for now at least. I know where all the rooms are. I helped design it even from a thousand miles away. But look, Zoey, you don’t owe me anything. If you want some time to yourself, you have it. But you don’t have to reciprocate what happened in the car.”

“Right,” I say, feeling comforted by his words. The earnestness in his gaze has my belly tightening and makes me want more than ever to give him the kind of pleasure he showed me, but I’m still nervous. I nod, pushing open the door, and sure enough it’s a bedroom. My eyes scan the space, taking in the soft hues of the wall, painted a calming light blue. A plush king-sized bed sits in the center with fluffy-looking pillows piled high. To the left, a wooden dresser stands with its polished surface reflecting the gentle light flittering through the sheer curtain. A small bedside table holds a stack of books and magazines neatly arranged, and I notice the cozy armchair in the corner draped with a soft throw. On the wall, a framed painting of a race car catches my attention, and my breath catches in my throat when I realize what this means. “This is your room?”

“Perfect deduction. Now take your time, I’ll be waiting outside if you need me, but no rush,” he says.

My legs are weak as I walk into the room and shut the door behind me. My hands are no better, trembling as I reach into the pocket of my skirt for my phone, dialing Lana’s number before I can think any better.

“I thought you were dead! I was getting ready to go to the cops to report you missing,” she says in greeting, the calm in her voice negating the claim of urgency her words are meant to suggest.

“I’m with Zach,” I whisper, chewing at my nails as I watch the door, half scared the man will walk in and find me gossiping about him with my friend. “In his hometown.”

“Wait, really? He agreed to an interview?”

“Well, not quite.”

“Then did you stalk him there?”

“Hey!” I hiss. “Lana, I don’t have time for twenty questions.”

“Okay, fine. What’s wrong?”

“I kissed him,” I whisper, my heart racing fast at the memory of the man’s lips against mine. I wait for Lana’s judgment, for her to yell at how unprofessional it was of me to kiss someone I am expecting to write about.

“Well, I can’t say I am surprised.”

“What!”

“Look, Zoey. You’ve had a lady boner for the man—”

“That’s not a thing!”

“Fine, you’ve crushed on the man for years. I have to ask you to wipe the drool off your face every time you see his picture. I would be more surprised if nothing happened between you two,” she says casually, popping her gum into the speaker. “Wait, is kissing all you did?”

No, I humped the man in his car like some teen high on hormones, but I can’t bring myself to say that part out loud. I am still quite embarrassed by it. “I think he wants to have sex.”

“And what about you?”

I want it to. Even when I don’t know what to expect, I still want the man so darn much, it’s driving me insane, but… “It’s unprofessional.”

“Okay then, it’s simple. Don’t have sex with the man.”

“But…”

“Were you hoping I would disagree with you?”

Maybe. Yes. “Do you really think it’s fine to sleep with him?”

“No, it could ruin your career if it got out that you had sex with the man you’re going to interview, and everyone in the industry will think you’re easy for the taking, but you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

There is no question about it. I don’t believe there was to begin with. “Good, then have fun. Tell me all about it when you get back!”

The line goes dead before I can even say anything, but I don’t bother ringing her back. I stare at the door, biting on my lip as I try not to second guess myself because that will only work to delay the inevitable.

I’ve already come to terms with the fact that there’s no stopping this. It’s useless to try.

My heart is racing so hard, nearly punching its way out of my chest as I walk to the door. My hands are a trembling mess as I grab the doorknob and pull the door open, half expecting to find him gone, but he’s where I left him standing. Zach runs his eyes over my fully covered body before lifting his gaze back to mine. His eyes were briefly on my body, but every spot those dark eyes touched is burning with need.

What is this man doing to me?

“So how did it go?”

I blink at him, confused by what he’s talking about. “How did what go?”

“You tell me,” he says, pushing away from the wall and slowly approaching me. I take a step back into the room, and he follows, moving slowly as a predator would toward prey. I feel every bit like one being hunted. A willing prey, but prey, nonetheless. “Forgive me for being presumptuous, but when you said you needed a moment to get ready, I had something entirely different in mind.”

“And what’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, kicking the door shut behind him as he follows me deeper into the bedroom. “I thought maybe I’d find you stripped naked in bed, legs spread wide in apology for the fire you left behind.”

I gasp when the back of my knees connects to the bed, but I brace myself before I can fall back. “Zach…”

“You haven’t answered my question, kitten,” he says, his eyes darkening as he runs them over my body. “When you said you needed a break, I assumed it was because you needed a minute to collect yourself. Now that you have, I’ll ask you again. Is this what you want?”

I swallow hard, raking my addled brain for what to say. I didn’t exactly expect Zach to ask me about it. I thought that opening the door for him was all I needed to communicate. My face is as red as a beet, but my eyes burn with desire for the man in front of me. It’s written all over my body, from my pebbled nipples pushing against my blouse to my aching sex that moments ago, was pressed against his.

Can he not tell, even without words, that I want him more than anything I’ve wanted in my life? Maybe that’s why I became a blogger, unconsciously searching for a way I could feel closer to the man.

It’s pathetic. God, it sounds pathetic to want someone I know so much, and yet so little about. I can’t help myself. Just like I coulnd’t resist the temptation of lying my way into meeting him. Perhaps little of it had to do with the interview and everything to do with simply meeting the man.

Forget about telling his story, I want to experience it. Experience him.

It’s a bad idea. That much I know, but I’ll deal with the fall out later. There has to be some kind of consequences for engaging in an intimate relationship with a man like Zach, but after I’ve learned what his lips taste like and how they felt on my skin, then I’ll question the wisdom of my decision.

“I’ve decided to drop all titles,” I whisper, and if my voice is a little shaky, then he’s to blame. “In here with you, I’m neither a blogger looking to write about you, nor a crazy fan who followed you to your hometown.”

Those heated eyes stay on mine for a long time before he speaks. “Then what are you?”

The girl that fell in love with you without even realizing it. I couldn’t explain these emotions before, but now, I make them out for what they are.

I am in love with Zach Westwood, a man so out of my league he is practically an alien. For now, however, I’ll pretend that he’s mine for the taking. That we’re on a level playing field.

“Just a girl,” I finally respond, my eyes firmly locked on his. “One who wants to share her first with the man she fell in love with before having ever even met him.”