And then, when the brilliance faded, along with all the strength in her muscles, he lowered her gently to the bed. Lay beside her, caught the end of her braid, and trailed it between the valley of her breasts. Told her she was fucking beautiful. She found herself smiling giddily, breathless and mindless and humming with a new kind of pleasure.
Maybe Zach hadn’t desired her, once upon a time. But he certainly did now.
Zach was inhaling pure elation, so high he barely knew his own name. His cock throbbed in his jeans, but he couldn’t manage to care; the gasping moans Rae made when she came were all his head had room for. He remembered those moans as he bathed in the scent of her: warm skin, soft musk, lemon and sugar pancakes. She lay beside him in the intimate, vulnerable haze of after, and it was so close to his wildest fantasy, he could come on the fucking spot.
Instead, he rolled over, covering her body in a single, sudden move. “I want to kiss you.”
She gave him that brilliant, one-sided smile, big brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, really?”
“No-one’s here,” he reminded her—because he’d give her whatever she needed, but he needed acknowledgement that deep down, this was real. “I just want to fucking kiss you.”
Quietly, carefully, she murmured, “Then kiss me.” As if the words were shameful, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying them.
He wanted so badly to take those words and run. To trust in the shy affection he felt radiating from her. To believe that, no matter what she claimed, Rae was here for just one reason: she couldn’t be anywhere else. Couldn’t be with anyone else.
Maybe, behind the walls she built for her own safety, she hid feelings for him.
He cupped her face, running his thumb over the soft threads of her scars. Tried to tell her with his eyes what he didn’t dare to say: I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not even myself. When his lips finally touched hers, he held his breath. She slid her hands into his hair, opened her mouth for him, and he exhaled sweet relief. His tongue traced the pronounced curve of her lower lip, dipped inside, and tasted bliss. She hummed her pleasure and tasted him just as hungrily. He shuddered over her, poured himself into her, and with every desperate press of her mouth and flick of her tongue, he felt a little more superhuman.
He pulled away, breathless, and found her staring, wide-eyed, up at him. Her hand rose to cradle his face, and she whispered, “I should’ve known you all my life.”
“From now on.” The words were ripped from deep in his chest, a promise that reverberated through the room. He couldn’t have explained them, but he felt them, and she must’ve felt them too. She grabbed his T-shirt and dragged him down and kissed him again. Then he bent his head over her throat, licking and sucking his way down to her chest. Sinking into all that bare skin. Her fucking body. She was so vulnerable but powerful with it; all thick, soft warmth, but she held herself like some kind of warrior. On Rae, nakedness was the sweetest armour.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, her moans growing higher the lower his hungry mouth went. When he pushed up her breast with one shaking hand and licked, licked, licked, her whole body shuddered beneath him. That was what he wanted—more of her mindless reactions. And teasing them out was no hardship. She had these sweet, suckable tits and tight little nipples like drops of chocolate, and she gasped when he flicked his tongue over one. Gasping was great. Gasping was fantastic. Next up: make her scream his name.
He ran his hand over her ribs, her waist, the curve of her hip, until he reached her underwear. “Can I take these off?”
She opened her mouth, then hesitated. “What for?”
“I have a list.”
Her laughter was bright and beautiful. “That’s good to know. Do you also have a condom?”
Ah, fuck. No, he did not, because up until now, sex had not been on his agenda. He sighed and bumped their foreheads together.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she said wryly.
“And I’ll take that to mean you don’t have one either.” His dick was throwing a vicious tantrum, but he ignored it. “Oh, well. I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with licking you out until we—” He cut himself off just in time. Swallowed. Slid his gaze away from hers and cleared his throat.
Until we die. That’s what he’d been going to say. But at the last moment, a little voice had warned him that she might see beneath the joke to a truth she wasn’t ready for. A truth that involved him, Rae, and a boatload of commitment and gentleness and all the other things that seemed to make her sweat.
For the first time, cruel uncertainty squeezed at his gut. Hesitating with her didn’t feel right. Hiding from her didn’t feel right. But what could he do? He’d claimed this was all about their friendship, and now he was realising just how badly he’d lied.
As if she sensed the tension in him, her kisses slowed, then stilled. “Hey,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”
“I was—thinking. I need to—” Zach took a breath and almost told her everything. That this wasn’t just a favour. That he was starving for her. That he’d take down the wall around her heart, brick by brick, until he could be absolutely sure she didn’t feel the same. Could she ever feel the same? He’d let himself hope so, but now that hope felt more like a childish wish.
He clamped his jaw shut and held his reckless tongue.
Softly, she asked him, “Do you want to stop?”
He almost didn’t understand the words. Did he want to stop? Was that even English? No-one had ever asked him a question like that at a moment like this. And there was no censure in her voice, no pressure, no ominous hint that the wrong answer would ruin everything. He met her eyes and they told him secrets. She looked at him like he was precious. Did he believe her?
He must, because the tension in him slid away. “Yeah,” he said. And then, because it was an option, and because having that option felt so fucking good: “Let’s… let’s take a break.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, then caught his hand and kissed his big, rough knuckles like he was something delicate and fine. The action shivered through him like sheer bliss. He thought he heard a thousand things she hadn’t said—things Rae would never say, words of adoration and of trust. But maybe she spoke best through looks and touches, and maybe he was learning her language.
The tightness in his chest eased. His worries receded, just a little. “Later,” he murmured. “We’ll get back to this later.”
She blinked. “Are you sure?”
Surer by the second. “Yes. We should go to dinner. And,” he added, shooting her a wicked grin, “we need condoms.”
A shy smile curved her lips as she looked away. “Right. Condoms! And dinner. Both very important things. Um… do you mind if I take a shower before we go down?”
God, she was cute. “Of course not.” Before she could leave, he reached out and caught her hand. Held tight until her gaze met his again. Told her, in a sudden rush of warmth and heart-swelling tenderness, “I’m so glad I have a friend like you, Rae. So fucking glad.”
She squeezed his hand, her breaths suddenly shaky. “And I’m glad I have you.”
He smiled. One day, he’d tell her something else. Something about the way she made him feel, the way her presence tugged at his heart like they were connected by invisible threads.
And maybe, just maybe, she’d tell him the same.
Chapter 11
Rae’s need tasted like blood on her tongue: coppery and helpless.
“I’m so glad I have a friend like you.” She should’ve been pleased by that sentence, happy that sex wasn’t changing the way Zach saw her. Instead, the words had felt like a bucket of cold water, dragging her from soft, dreamlike pleasure to harsh reality.
Friendship wasn’t all she wanted from Zach, but it was all she could have. She needed to be alone, to be safe. And that was that.
They sat together in the dining hall, just like yesterday, but today Rae wore a plastic smile and felt a lump of self-loathing in her belly. She was feeling t
hings, and she hated it. She’d thought that common sense would keep her safe—that she’d remember, no matter what, how dangerous love was. That she’d never forget trusting Kevin with her forever, and having that trust abused in countless ways. But Zach’s kiss had killed every hesitation, as if there’d been nothing before him and there’d be nothing after.
It wasn’t true. She couldn’t let it be true. When this meal was over, she would take him to bed, but she wouldn’t forget reality for a second. She couldn’t let herself.
God, she hoped dinner would never end.
In contrast to her misery, Zach was more cheerful than ever, playing the besotted fake boyfriend to the hilt. Every time he squeezed her hand, kissed her knuckles, or called her sunshine in that low, knowing voice, she flinched and ached simultaneously. Was this how it would feel, when he fucked her? Like slow, sweet poison? God, she didn’t know if she could take it.
Despite her best efforts, they finished eating all too soon. Zach led her toward the exit with an air of urgency that would be flattering if she weren’t terrified, but sadly, she was.
So, she did something desperate.
Rae looked left, looked right, and spotted an author she almost-sort-of-knew. Miriam was a charming, gregarious woman surrounded by a gaggle of friends, all of them clearly headed to the hotel bar. The bar was good. The bar was great. The bar could take forever. Decision made, Rae released Zach’s hand, took a deep breath, and forced herself to call across the room like some kind of possessed, extroverted socialite. “Miriam!”
They hadn’t spoken for at least a year, and they’d only ever been acquaintances—but, to her credit, Miriam didn’t miss a beat. “Rae, darling!” she trilled, and opened her arms as if they were long-lost sisters. Air kisses were exchanged. Introductions were made. When Rae called Zach her partner, the women all looked at her as if she’d won the lottery. Little did they know that by the end of this weekend, her winnings would disappear like fairy gold.
This wasn’t real. She couldn’t let it be real. She couldn’t look at him in case he made it real. She couldn’t, she couldn’t, she—
“We were just heading for a drink. I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?”
Rae nodded so hard she almost snapped her own neck. Miriam Barnes, you brilliant, beautiful fucker. “Yes, please.”
At the bar, Rae tried her best to seem like one of the girls for about ten minutes before giving it up as a bad job. She’d never done well in group situations. At home in Ravenswood, her saving grace was the fact that all of her friends were kind of… weird. Rae got weird. She meshed with weird. She was weird. A gaggle of sensible adults having mature and logical conversations, however, was far from her comfort zone. She slowly faded into silence and texted Hannah instead.
Even though she’d dropped Zach into this with no warning or explanation, he was handling it way better than Rae. He held court with the increasingly tipsy authors as if there was nothing else he’d rather do. But while they all cackled over some joke or other, he turned subtly away and focused on her.
God, she wished he wouldn’t focus on her.
He put a warm, reassuring hand on the small of her back and leaned across the gap between their bar stools. “Are you okay?”
Rae sat ramrod straight and took a healthy gulp of wine. “I’m fine,” she bit out, sounding like a pissy teenager. Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Hannah: Duke’s good. You want pics?
Rae: OMG yes please.
“You don’t seem fine,” Zach said as she typed. His hand moved in slow, soothing circles over her back, even though they sat at an angle where no-one could see. As if he just wanted to touch her.
Maybe he does.
She squashed the pesky voice of optimism in her mind—honestly, who knew she still possessed that?—and clung to her bad mood with all the strength she could muster. “If you’re trying to say I look like shit,” she muttered, “just say it.” Her moment of glamour last night had not been recreated today. Her mouth was bare, her outfit simple, her naptime braid frizzy and falling loose.
Without warning, Zach caught her face in his hand. She almost dropped her phone. She kept a good grip on the wine, though; wine was her precious now. With strong, sure fingers, he tilted her head until they made eye contact. His gaze was an unexpected storm, so intense she imagined lightning shattering his pupils. Carefully, clearly, he told her: “You look beautiful.”
She forced herself to take a deep breath. Of course, that breath came with a lungful of his intoxicating scent, so it was less calming than it should be. She imagined his pheromones like vaporous warriors, armed and vicious, attacking her common sense with alarmingly sexy battle cries.
She was officially bonkers, and it was definitely his fault.
“If something’s bothering you,” he said, “you need to tell me.”
“Why?”
“So I can fix it.” He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. Her heart broke.
Her voice barely above a whisper, she told him, “You can’t fix this.”
“Then I want to be miserable with you.” He turned his barstool toward hers by some long-legged magic, separating them from the group of authors they’d come in with. A few shot her amused, knowing looks before returning to their conversation. Zach caught the back of Rae’s chair and dragged it closer, until they were practically on top of each other, her legs caged between his.
Her phone vibrated, and she bit her lip.
“Hannah?” he asked.
“She has Duke pictures.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
Rae’s lips quirked into a smile, her first real one of the night. She opened the message and they bent over the phone, chuckling together at an action shot of Duke running through Nate’s massive garden, his tongue flapping in the breeze and his legs pointing in different directions. He seemed to be chasing a squidgy pink ball. Judging by his trajectory, he’d missed catching it by a thousand feet and possibly faceplanted the grass, too.
“That dog was not made for athletic pursuits,” Zach said, amusement twinkling through his words.
Rae snorted. “He’s a gentleman of gravitas. He’s dignified like his mother.”
“Yeah,” Zach said dryly. “Dignified.”
“Watch your tone,” she sniffed, and then froze, because she’d teased him. She’d teased, she’d smiled, and she’d forgotten, for a second, that she was upset. Because of him. Even though she was literally upset because of him.
Why did he have to be the one? The one who did this to her?
He must have noticed she was feeling pensive again, because his own smile faded. “Do you miss him?”
“Yes.”
“But that’s not what’s bothering you,” Zach said with unnerving certainty, as if he had a direct line into her head.
She wanted to hate him for being this way, for understanding her—but she couldn’t, because knowing him was a gift. Her sigh released the last of her resentment and frustration. If she could see them, they would look like cherry blossoms swirling away in the wind, slowly disintegrating. Maybe she couldn’t act on her emotions, but there was no use fighting them inside her own head. She adored this man, and that wouldn’t go away.
He made another guess, surprising her. “Is it your mother?”
She was speechless for a moment. Then, clinging to habit and family pride, she asked, “Why would it be about my mother?”
His mouth twisted, a grim tilt that couldn’t be labelled a smile. “She calls you a lot, and then you stare at the phone like you want to kill something—or maybe like something’s coming to kill you.”
Rae forced herself to shrug. “We don’t get on.”
“Then why do you always pick up the phone like you wish you could call her back?”
She felt like he’d unravelled her. He was one of those top hat magicians and the coloured hankies he tugged out of his sleeve were her rainbow of problems. Rae huffed out a laugh that sounded dis
turbingly like a sob.
"Hey, now,” he said quickly, squeezing her hand. “We don’t have to talk about this. Ignore me. Drink your wine.”
This time, her laughter was a little less tragic. “You make me sound like a baby with a bottle.”
“If you were a baby, your bottle would be Duke. Wine will have to do.”
She managed a smile and took a sip, but the deep red tasted sour. It barely fit on her tongue, either, in between all the words crowded there. Finally, she said, “Did you ever tell anyone else about your sexuality?”
He smiled, raking a hand through his hair. “Funny thing about that is, once I told you—once I got it out—it didn’t feel like some big secret anymore. I haven’t gotten around to mentioning it, because it’s not weighing on me like it was. But I will. In fact, I’ve, uh… well, there’s this forum for demisexual and other ace/arospec people, and I’ve been a member for a while. Haven’t really said anything, but I’m thinking about it. To meet people, you know? To make friends.”
For a moment, the weight of her misery lifted. He looked tentatively hopeful and adorably determined, and it made her heart swell. “That’s good,” she murmured with a smile. “That’s really good.”
“Yeah.”
A pause. Rae’s smile gentled, then faded. “I want to tell you about my mother.”
Her words took them both by surprise. The syllables huddled together as if she’d rounded them up and shoved them out into the world.
Zach nodded. “Okay. I’d like you to tell me.”
“Because we’re friends, so we share things,” she said. That’s all.
“We do,” he replied, with a sweet sincerity that made her want to curl up in him like a blanket and hibernate for the next fifty years.
That Kind of Guy: Ravenswood Book 3 Page 13