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Chapter Four

ASHLEIGH

“Y ou probably say that to all the girls,” I say with an awkward laugh.

He takes one small step forward, just enough that he’s solidly in my space. I have plenty of room to back up if I want to, but I stay put. His deep voice is quiet when he says, “I think the contact list on my phone is proof that I don’t.”

“You’re only here for one more day,” I remind him.

“I could come back. There’s this amazing technology called airplanes that lets you cross the country in mere hours.”

I tilt my head back so I’m looking up at him. This close, I can see the sandy stubble that covers his jaw, which wasn’t there a couple hours ago when I first noticed him in the diner, and a faint scar across his right eyebrow. I want to know how he got that scar, if he’s as close with his mom as he seems, which season of Star Trek is his favorite, and what he does for work.

But mostly, right at this moment, I want to know what he looks like with his hat off, and if his body is as defined as it appears under his hoodie and joggers. And even if I never get answers to my other questions, even if it’s only one night, I want to explore this attraction with him.

“Transporters would be a lot more efficient,” I joke, referencing the teleportation devices made famous by the mis-quote of Captain Kirk, who never actually said “Beam me up, Scotty.”

“And yet I’d be willing to sit for hours on a commercial flight just to see you again.” He bites his lower lip and all I can think about is what those lips would feel like on mine. The thought has me licking my own lips and I don’t miss the way his eyes register the movement. “You’re shivering,” he says, reaching out and running his hands up and down my arms.

I didn’t even notice. “I probably need someone to keep me warm,” I tease as I step forward so my body is flush against his.

He wraps one arm around my lower back, anchoring me to him, and his other hand sweeps along my jaw as his fingers thread into the hair behind my ear. And then he’s dipping his head toward mine and I’m closing my eyes, but instead of his lips meeting mine like I expect, I feel his cheek scratch against mine and his breath caresses my ear. “The things I want to do in order to keep you warm would be highly inappropriate out in the open like this.”

I’m pretty sure a strangled whimper slips out of the back of my throat.

“I live right around the corner.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, pulling back and tilting my face up to his.

“I am.”

“And are you inviting me over?”

I take a deep breath. This could be the most reckless idea I’ve ever had, but I’m pretty sure I won’t regret one night with him.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

Zach holds my hand tightly in his as we walk back toward my car. As we approach the driver’s side door, he puts his hands on my hips, spinning me around to face him while he backs me against the car.

“Are you one hundred percent sure you want to take me back to your place? Because if you’ve changed your mind, you can say so. Or if you’d rather go to my hotel, we can do that.”

I reach up, putting each of my hands on the side of his neck and running my thumbs along his jawline. I am throwing all caution to the wind because suddenly I’m downright ravenous for him. I don’t know where he’s staying, but I know it’ll take longer to get there than to get back to my place.

“I want you to come over.” I lean up on my toes and press my lips to his.

As I predicted, his lips are soft. He sucks my lower lip between his and gently nips at it with his teeth, which has me opening for him as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth. His hands move from my hips, up my sides, and then one hand is on my jaw and the other is in my hair tugging my head backward gently as he takes command. He kisses me like he wants to possess me, and it’s working. I want to give myself to this man and let him own me, even if it can only be for one night.

My arms snake around his neck and suddenly his arm is sweeping under my ass and lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he presses me back against the car door, and the small amount of friction as the hard length of him presses against me has me groaning into his mouth.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he pulls back, and we stare at each other wide-eyed, realizing that we’re standing under a street light in view of anyone walking or driving by—not that there are that many people around this late at night. “We need to get out of here.”

I drop my legs to the ground, but as I do my body slides right along his dick, so he reaches down to adjust himself. His other hand moves behind me and opens my door, ushering me into my seat with a quick, “Let’s go.”

When he climbs into the passenger seat, there’s no way to miss the fact that he’s huge and hard. I let out a small chuckle as I watch him carefully buckle himself in, and when he glances over at me I nod in the direction of his dick and say, “Looks like you’ve got a little problem there.”

“Nothing little about it, sweetheart,” he says. “Now drive.”

About thirty seconds later we’re pulling into the driveway, and he’s letting out a low whistle. “Nice place.”

“The house isn’t mine,” I tell him. “I used to nanny for this family and there’s an apartment above the detached garage—that’s where I live.”

I ease my car into my garage space, then lead him back out and up the stairs along the side of the garage. I note him taking in the pool in the backyard and the same view we just saw from Kerry Park. When we walk into my space and he takes in the wall of windows along the back, he asks, “If you have this view from your place, why do you go to the viewpoint at the park?”

I set my keys in the tray on the countertop of the island that divides the kitchen and living room. “You asked me where you should go, and it wasn’t like I was going to suggest my living room.”

“And yet here we are,” he says, taking a cautious step toward me.

I reach out and grab his sweatshirt, pulling him toward me, and then I look up at him where he’s stopped only inches from me. “Yeah, here we are.”

He reaches out and traces the line of my cheekbone with the back of his fingers, then uses his thumb to tilt my chin up further. And then his lips are on my neck, trailing soft kisses from behind my ear to the hollow between my collar bones, while he unzips my jacket and slips it off my arms and tosses it to the side. Now that I’m in my warm house and he’s kissing my neck, I’m already burning up. So I grab the hem of my sweatshirt with both hands and lift it over my head, forcing him to step back a bit as I do.

Then his lips meet my collarbone and his tongue traces the line from one end to the other, and his hands are skimming up my abdomen on the way to my breasts. I take his hat and toss it to the side, and his sandy hair falls forward against my chest, so I thread my fingers into his hair and tilt his face up to look at me. He looks less boyish without his backward ball cap, or maybe it’s just the hunger in his eyes as he stares into mine, looking like he wants to devour me.

He reaches over his head with one hand, grips the back of his sweatshirt, and pulls it over his head. His t-shirt starts to come with it, but before he can reach down to pull it back on, my hands are gliding up the ridged plane of his abdomen and pushing his shirt over his arms and head with his sweatshirt, and I’m left trying not to drool as he stands before me, his eight pack on display. But more impressive are his shoulders and arms, because every single one of those muscles is cut, too. Even his forearms, and I’m a sucker for built forearms.

“Holy shit,” I say on an exhale. “Do you work out every day?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.” And then he’s kneeling down at my feet and untying my boots. He grips my calf gently as he uses his other hand to slide my foot out, and the care with which he does this is somehow the most sensual thing anyone’s done for me. How he looks at me and how he touches me—it seems almost reverent. He feels like someone who’d take care of me, both physically and emotionally, instead of just using me.

Once my shoes are off, he remains on his knees, sliding his hands up my outer thighs until they rest at the waistband of my leggings. He hooks his thumb in, and looks up at me. “May I?”

“Please do,” I say, hoping he doesn’t notice the wet spot that’s already soaked through my thong and onto my leggings.

He slides them gently down my legs, where I step out of them, and then he looks up at me again, his eyes sliding along the length of my legs, over my abdomen and chest, and up to my face. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” he says. “And smart, and—” He lets out an exhale. “—I don’t know…but…” His eyes track lower, and he reaches out and rubs his thumb along the soaking wet fabric of my thong. “Excited?”

“Take off my underwear and find out.”

One corner of his mouth curves up as he says, “Yes, ma’am.” Then he rips my underwear down my legs quicker than I can blink, and he lifts one ankle to help me step out of them, but then he slides that leg over his shoulder and his face is at the junction between my legs. He hasn’t taken his eyes off mine, and though I can tell he’s waiting for me to invite him to continue, I’m unprepared when he says, “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” he says, and he’s so close his warm breath caresses my center, which aches for him.

“I want you to touch me.”

He leans forward and circles my clit with his tongue several times, and then pulls back as he looks up at me. “Like that?”

“God yes.”

“And then?”

I’m so unused to a guy asking me what I want, or caring about what I need, that I almost don’t know how to verbalize it. “And then I want your fingers inside me,” I say as my muscles clench in anticipation of being touched.

He reaches one hand up and anchors my thigh on his shoulder as he leans forward and runs his tongue over and around my clit again. He reaches his other hand up and holds out two fingers for me to suck into my mouth, so I pull them all the way into the back of my throat, slide them out a bit to circle my tongue around them, then slide them to the back of my throat again. Between my legs, Zach groans against me. And then he’s pulling his fingers out of my mouth and repositioning them between my legs.

“You sure?” he asks as he looks up at me, and I appreciate that he keeps checking in.

“I’m more than sure, so you don’t need to keep asking.” The words come out as labored breaths.

He slides both his fingers into me at once, filling me entirely before he begins stroking me with deep, sensual thrusts. He fastens his lips around my sensitive bundle of nerves and sucks my clit into his mouth, running his tongue over it as he does, and I almost fall to pieces right there. When he does it again, while simultaneously stroking me deep inside, I feel my orgasm coming on. I’m almost embarrassed by how quickly he’s finishing me off, but then he looks up and says, “That’s a good girl. Come for me.”

The heat that floods my body at his words of praise leaves me seeing stars, or maybe it’s the way my pussy is gripping his fingers with the rhythmic pulsing of my orgasm, or the way his mouth is back on my clit, bringing me more pleasure than my body feels capable of accepting. When the full orgasm finally tears through me, the waves of sensation flood my senses and my entire body shakes. He’s the only thing holding me up.

When I open my eyes, he’s looking up at me from between my legs and my hands are fisted in his hair. “Sorry,” I say, letting go, “I didn’t realize I was holding onto you like that.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says as he lowers my leg back to the ground and stands slowly, pressing me between his body and the island behind me. “I didn’t mind one bit.” He kisses the bridge of my nose. “Quite enjoyed how you screamed my name.”

Did I? I have no recollection of that, but I was coming so hard, who knows what my body was doing.

He tilts his hips forward, running the hard length of his erection along my abdomen. “And I fully plan on hearing it again.” He plants his hands on my hips, easily lifting me onto the island, and I almost yelp as my ass hits the cold stone. But I barely have time to register the goosebumps before he’s cupping my breasts, gently stroking his thumbs across my nipples where they’re peaked beneath the lace fabric of my bra, and warming me back up.

He reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra faster than I could do it, and slides it down my arms. His mouth descends to take one of my nipples in his mouth, and while his warm tongue laps against the sensitive flesh, his hands are at his waist pushing his joggers off before he pulls my nipple deeper into his mouth. My core is already clenching again, the need to have him fill me takes over.

And then I glance down, where his massive cock stands at attention. My alarmed intake of breath makes a laugh roll around in the back of his throat—it’s a low, feral sound that turns me on immeasurably.

“You’ve been hiding that in your sweat pants?”

His mouth leaves my breast as he stands. “I told you it wasn’t a small problem.”

He looks so self-satisfied I want to knock him down a peg. I consider telling him I’ve seen bigger, but that’s a bold faced lie and implies I’ll have no issue taking all of him, which I’m not certain is true.

“I don’t see how that is going to fit in here,” I say, sliding my hand between my legs. I run the pad of my finger over my clit, which is still wet from his mouth and my orgasm.

“It will. That’s right,” he encourages, adding his free hand on top of mine to help set the pace, “let’s get you good and ready.”

He leans forward, taking my other nipple in his mouth and sucking greedily, which has my core spasming almost immediately with the need to be filled. “I need you inside me,” I tell him, and his eyes snap up to mine but he watches me as he continues to destroy my nipple with pleasure.

Then he says, “let’s make sure,” and switches to my other breast, rolling his tongue over that nipple until I’m literally moaning under the intense feelings rolling through my body.

“Zach,” I grind out his name, “now.”