Mr. Big

by Nana Malone

  His friend’s lips pursed. “You’re too involved with this one. Just look at you. You never drink at your clubs. You look like death warmed over and you are staring at her like she is your last lifeline.”

  Zach gritted his teeth as he watched Emma dance with her friend, clearly having the time of her life. Jason was right on all accounts. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly since the night he had left her flat, knowing that there were bad feelings between them, that she probably hated his guts and then some.

  His brain still wrestled with the fact that he had slept with her. Not just the guilt of doing so, but the overwhelming need to do it again. Zach could damn near still taste her on his lips, feel her body in his hands so badly that they shook even now. His cock and his palm had gotten all kinds of reacquainted in the last few days.

  He watched as Emma’s dance moves became more hypnotic, drawing the attention of a wanker who was standing nearby and decided to insert himself into Emma and her friend’s dancing party.

  Zach’s breath stuttered in his chest as he watched the wanker put his hands on Emma’s hips, drawing her close to him until their bodies touched. Hell no. Mine. That thought should have given him pause. But he was too far gone. She was his. He’d known it the moment he sank into her the other day. That was his Emma and he was the only one allowed to touch her in that manner.

  “Your face is turning red,” Jason said. “Do I need to alert the police that you are about to commit murder?”

  “He’s fucking touching her,” Zach said, cracking his knuckles. He was in the mood to fight tonight, to feel the satisfaction of some wanker’s bones breaking under his fists.

  “Shit, Zach. You need to pull it together.”

  “Too late,” he said, stalking toward Emma and her current dance partner, his jaw clenched tightly together. He was far beyond attempting to pull himself back together. This was Emma, his Emma, and he was going to be the only one that touched her intimately. Reaching the couple, he grabbed the wanker by the arm and shoved him aside, not caring what he said or did. Emma looked up and Zach knew immediately why she was acting the way she was. She was pissed, her eyes glazed over. “Zach?”

  His entire world changed as he stared into her face, some of his anger starting to ebb away and soften. But as quickly as her confusion set in, so did her anger and she pushed him away from her, stumbling into some other dancers. “Get the hell away from me.”

  “Em,” Zach said, reaching for her. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” There was no way he was going to leave her here, in this state for someone to take advantage of her or worse. He hadn’t been able to save her brother. But he could help her.. Even though Emma did not have a car to get into, she could still get hurt and he was not going to allow it to happen again, not with Emma.

  She fought him until Zach had to grab her arms, wasting no time in picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder, her fists beating on his shoulder as he walked through the throng of people that were on the dance floor and gave anyone who attempted to cross their path a look that meant business. He waited until they got outside into the cool night before he let her down gently, steadying her on those boots. “Em you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “I have not,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe you Zach. What are you trying to do to me? I was having a good time tonight.”

  Zach shoved a hand through his hair, frustrated that her words were slurring yet she could look so damn beautiful at the same time. “I’m trying to save you Emma.”

  “Save me?” she asked, laughing loudly. “You can’t save me. You’re the reason I’m here tonight anyway. You’re an arsehole.”

  He let the words bounce off him, knowing that Emma was drunk. She couldn’t hate him. He wouldn’t let her. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  She slapped his hands away but he was able to gather her against him, breathing in the smell of her shampoo as she finally collapsed against him. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” she said against his chest, her hands curling into his jacket. “I don’t want to feel this way about you.”

  Zach sucked in a breath, tucking her close against him as he signaled for a cab. She might not be fond of him at the moment, but he was gone, whether he cared to admit it or not.

  The cab pulled up and he got Emma into the back seat, climbing in after her and giving the driver his address. He wanted to take her to his flat, not hers, until he could figure out what to do with her. Emma leaned against him and he wrapped an arm against her, steadying his racing heart with some deep breaths. Now that she was safe and secure with him, he could relax a little but those tender emotions were only compounding on top of each other. The last few days had been hell not seeing her, not talking with her, but now, all was right with his world, even if Emma was drunk.

  The ride to his flat didn’t take long and he helped her out of the cab, keeping a steadying arm around her waist as he walked her to the lift that would take them to his high rise flat above the city. Emma leaned against the wall of the lift as he pressed the button, eyeing him. “Why do I feel like this when I’m around you?” she said softly, her words hitting home for him. He could ask the same of her. She stumbled and he reached for her, pulling her against him.

  “Just stay with me,” he said, the words carrying more weight than he had anticipated. “I’ll take care of you.”

  She didn’t respond but instead sagged against him. He swept her into his arms as the lift stopped, holding her tenderly against his chest as he strode to his flat, waving the card in front of the door lock before stepping in. He hesitated only a minute before taking her into his bedroom, laying her down on his black sheets, her red hair fanned over his pillow. Bloody hell, she was so beautiful.

  And you fucked that shit right up.

  Yeah, he had. He gently tugged the hem of her skirt back down and readjusted her top so it was no longer askew and threatening to expose what he knew to be perfect breasts. This was Emma. He wasn’t going to ogle her body without her wanting him to do so. He wanted her willing and awake.

  Zach reached for those fuck me boots and was able to get them off her feet before covering her with his duvet, the satisfaction of her curling around his pillow filling his chest and causing him to grin. Emma was in his bed. Not exactly what he had planned, but she was in his bed. Now all you have to do is keep your hands off her.

  Zach quickly stripped his clothes off, leaving his boxers and his undershirt on just in case she woke before he did and freaked out thinking something else had happened.

  They would talk in the morning. They had to. Staying away from her was too difficult. He wanted her to know that his decision to leave her that night hadn’t been an easy one, that he was doing it for her. Sliding under the covers, he took her into his arms, smiling as she sighed in contentment and snuggled against his chest, a soft snore following shortly afterward.

  His fingers threaded through her hair, feeling the soft strands grazing his chin. A rush of tenderness filled his body as he lay there with Emma in his arms, thinking he was the luckiest bastard in the world at this moment. He didn’t deserve to touch her at all, yet he couldn’t stay away. He was the little shit who couldn’t amount to nothing, the smear on the bottom of his father’s boot who never gave him the time of day except when he did something wrong. Then his father was all over him. It was easy to hide the bruises after a while and once he reached a certain age, his father found other things to use against him, like his friendship with the Welshes.

  More than once his father had talked about the family that seemed to care about him, how they would find out what a little shit Zach was and how he would be alone in this world one day, just like him. Zach hadn’t remembered a time when his father hadn’t been such an arse. His mother died giving birth to him so his father was all that he knew.

  But when he was with the Welshes, he saw how a family was supposed to be. And there had been many a night he would lie in his bed picturing hi
mself as part of that family. Steven and Ben had always been like brothers to him; he loved them like family. Even the one Welsh that had brought him to his knees, currently curled up against his chest.

  Zach sighed and tightened his hold on Emma, liking the fact that she was here but hating the churning of his stomach at the same time. He’d always had a soft spot for her and in the light of the morning, Zach wasn’t sure how he was going to let her go.

  21

  Emma

  Her first thought was that she had screwed up royally. Her head was pounding horribly, and the silkiness of the sheets under her cheek not those that were on her bed whatsoever. The last thing she remembered was dancing in the club with Laila; everything else was a horrible black hole. Oh no. What have I done?

  With a wince, Emma turned over and looked about the bedroom, glad that there was no one else about at the moment. The room was huge and masculine, all whites and dark colors from the dark wood floor to the white walls and black sheets on the bed she was currently lying on.

  The strong smell of coffee filled the air as Emma threw back the covers, glad to see she was still fully clothed in that ridiculous outfit that Laila had talked her into. Her head was swimming from the alcohol, and she hated herself for doing this. This wasn’t her. It was Zach that had driven her to act this way, to attempt to forget him by getting herself drunk. It was going to take a great deal more than alcohol to lessen the ache in her chest every time she thought of Zach.

  Well, no more. She was going to confront him, text him and tell him to meet her so they could air out all of this between them. Either he was going to tell her why he had left her that night or she was going to write him off and move on. She had too much to focus on to worry about a man who couldn’t make up his mind.

  Standing, Emma found her footing and picked up her boots that were stacked near the bed, holding them in her hand instead of putting them on. Maybe she could sneak out before her ‘friend’ saw her, like the walk of shame without having anything to show for it. She didn’t feel like she had shagged anyone last night and her clothes seemed not to be bothered other than her tossing and turning in her sleep. Maybe she had gotten off lucky last night.

  Walking down the hall, the wood cold on her feet, Emma found herself staring at the glass panes that gave off the panoramic views of the city for miles, even the bridge able to be viewed in the distance. The living room had the same color schemes, the white couch a sharp contrast to the dark floors with a large TV hanging over a tiled fireplace. Her entire flat could fit into just the living room alone. Turning silently around, she saw a man standing in the kitchen, his back toward her. Emma knew immediately whose flat she was in. After all, she had spent years studying that frame, those broad shoulders causing a shiver through her body. “Zach.”

  He turned, nearly spilling the cup of coffee he had been holding. In this element, he looked more like the boy she remembered, wearing a T-shirt and tight boxers that left nothing to the imagination, the thick length of him outlined against his leg.

  His hair was all over his head and there was a shadow of a beard on his strong jawline, his eyes nearly piercing her as he looked at her. Emma’s cheeks burned, her hangover just a distant memory as she stared at him.

  “Ems,” he said, putting the coffee on the granite island before him. “I’ve got coffee and aspirin for your hangover. I can fix you an omelet when you are ready.”

  She sat her shoes on the floor and walked over to the island. “What the hell is wrong with me? How did this happen? God, I am the daftest girl in all of London.”

  He looked away, grabbing another cup and a bottle before setting them in front of her. “Take these and drink this first. Then we’ll talk.”

  Emma did as he asked, her stomach in knots as she took some fortifying sips of the strong coffee. After a week of no contact, her nerves were on edge at having him so close, unsure of whether to hit him or kiss him. He had put her through hell. Once the coffee was down, she set the mug gently on the island. He had been watching her the entire time. “Want that omelet now?” he asked. She shook her head, too nervous to eat. He set his own cup on the island. “Why did you get drunk last night?”

  Emma sighed, not sure if she wanted to tell him the truth. It was silly really, but still causing a significant hurt in her heart. “I was trying to forget you.”

  His eyes flared. “Forget me?”

  She raised her chin, meeting his eyes with a stare of her own. “Yes you, just like you have apparently forgotten about me.”

  The muscles in his jaw worked as he rubbed a hand over his face. She refused to feel sorry for the shadows that she could see under his eyes. She had her own, because of him.

  “Ems,” he finally said, walking around the island. “I didn’t forget about you. I could never forget you.” It was the way that he said it that had her knees weakening slightly, her breath quickening as he cornered her against the island, reaching out to graze her lips with the pad of his thumb. “These last few days have been hell for me too,” Zach continued, dropping his hand.

  “Then why did you leave?” she asked, her voice soft.

  “I’m not good for you, Emma.”

  She laughed, because it was the only thing she could do at the moment. “Don’t you think you should have thought about that before we shagged in the limo?”

  Zach’s jaw clenched. “You deserved better than that.”

  He actually believed his own bullshit. That night in the back of the limo had been the single most risqué, exciting thing she had done in her life and she had shared it with the one man she thought she would never have. There had been nothing that would have made it any better, except Zach staying with her.

  Swallowing hard, she reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling the stubble scrape the tender skin on her palm. “What I deserve is a chance to be happy and I am the happiest I’ve ever been when I am with you.”

  “Ems,” he started but she put her finger to his lips, smiling when he kissed it tenderly. “I’m not a good guy. This is me in my fucked up, emotionally damaged glory.”

  “I’ve known you since we were kids. I don’t believe that.”

  “You need to. Because if you don’t, you’ll get hurt. That’s why I walked away. I knew I was supposed to stay away from you and I just wanted you so badly I couldn’t think straight.” He swallowed hard. “It had nothing to do with you.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Steven arrives in two weeks. You think he’d be happy to hear I shagged his sister in the back of a limousine?”

  So Steven was part of the problem. She understood they were close, but she wanted this too badly to give up without a fight. “Can’t we start over Zach? Can’t we go have some fun, just the two of us? And not worry about the kind of guy you are? Let me make that decision for myself. Give us two weeks. Give me two weeks. If you don’t want me then no harm no foul; we’ll go back to being friends. If the risk is worth it to you, have confidence that I can make the choice.”

  “Ems, you don’t exactly have all the information.” Her heart sank as she watched him scratch the stubble on his jaw. “You need to know —”

  She shook her head. “Whatever you need to say, save it for two weeks. I don’t need to know it right now. Two weeks. Let me make my own choice. If you think the risk is too great to your friendship with Steven or there’s too much history, I’ll understand.” She’d be devastated and heartbroken but at least she would have tried.

  He said nothing for a long moment as if he were mulling it over. “Spend the day with me,” he blurted out, capturing her hand in his and tugging her closer to him. “Just the two of us.”

  “Yes,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing their bodies together. “I would love that.”

  Emma

  Emma sighed as she leaned her head on Zach’s shoulder, feeling tired but deliriously happy at the same time. They were seated in the glass-enclosed car of the London Eye, watching as the sun set over the city of London,
putting to bed a wonderful day that would be forever etched in her memory. True to form, Zach had taken her on a whirlwind tour of London, taking her to all the sights she had yet to visit, like they were tourists out on the big city. He had been charming, funny and not afraid to touch her during their time together, constantly holding her hand or wrapping his arm around her waist whenever he got a chance. She had reveled in the fact that he had done a complete one-eighty and seemed to be totally into her, like nothing had happened between them over the last week.

  “Have you ever been on this thing?” she asked as his thumb ran over the back of hers lightly.

  “Never,” he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “But I have to admit the view is pretty impressive.”

  Emma had to agree. The view was wonderful but it was more than the view. She was here, with Zach. There were so many other things she needed to be doing, like homework, but not today. Today it had been about her and Zach.

  Their rotation came to an end and they climbed out of the car, walking hand in hand toward Zach’s flat. She should tell him to take her home, but Emma didn’t want the day to end. “Are you hungry?” he asked as they entered the lift back at his flat building.

  She threw her arms around his neck, reaching up on her toes to kiss his lips lightly. “Not for food.”

  He growled and captured her lips with his, nibbling on her lower lip until she gasped and he swept in with his tongue, tasting her. She allowed herself to let go, to enjoy the moment just like everything else she had enjoyed today. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she pulled him closer, giggling against his lips as they bumped into the wall of the lift. “Are you okay?” he asked against her lips, his hands caressing her waist lightly. Emma nodded, kissing his bottom lip, then the underside of his jaw. He groaned and grabbed her hand as the lift doors opened, nearly dragging her down the hall and to his door.

  Emma bit her lip as he opened it and pulled her inside, slamming the door closed before pressing her against it, his hand running down the side of her waist until he hooked her leg and pushed against her, his hand caressing her bum. She could feel the hard length of him throbbing against her, her body flooding in response. There was nothing to keep them from each other. She needed him and he needed her.