Promoted to Wife?

by Paula Roe

  Desperate for physical exertion, he grabbed his gym bag and headed out, taking two hours to run, row and heave weights at Surfers’ twenty-four-hour gym. Yet after he showered and changed, then got back into his car, his body still hummed with energy, his brain still fixated on VP Tech.

  He needed to really lose himself, not just force his muscles into screaming agony. And he knew exactly what to do.

  Twelve

  Emily swung her front door open but instead of the pizza delivery guy, Zac stood there, his arm resting casually on her doorframe.

  “Let’s go out.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Out. Somewhere dark, with loud music.”

  “I’m… I’m…” He stepped over the threshold and she instinctively moved aside. “Expecting a pizza,” she ended lamely as he paused in her living room.

  He turned to face her, hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised. “Wow. Really living the high life.”

  “I’m also working.”

  She crossed her arms, refusing to let his appraising dissection of her casual sweats and bare feet affect her.

  “I’ve just been on the phone with Cal about VP Tech and now I need to let off some steam. I thought you might like to join me.”

  She swallowed. Admit it. You’re thrilled you’re his first choice and he came all this way to ask you. You want to go.

  And, her doubt demons added, he could always ask someone else if you turned him down.

  “What about the pizza?” she blurted out.

  His mouth tweaked. “I’ll wait for it while you go change.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  He silenced her with a kiss, a deep, blood-pumping kiss that made her legs weak and her brain fuzzy. “Emily,” he finally murmured, a scant inch away from her bruised mouth. “I’m sure. We’ll go someplace no one will recognize us. Trust me.”

  What could she say to that?

  They were at Heaven, one of Surfers’ popular nightclubs famous for dance music, decently priced drinks and top-notch security, and despite the weeknight, the place was packed. True to Zac’s word, it was a place where no one cared who you were and how much you earned. Emily glanced around the strobe-lighted dance floor. A place where you could relax without being watched or judged. Zac could’ve taken her to any of a dozen private clubs frequented by the super-rich and beautiful, yet he’d picked this one.

  Was it for her benefit or his?

  She didn’t care. Because right now the familiar, sexy throb-throb beat began to seep into her skin, teasing, tempting, making her body ache with sudden longing.

  Come dance, the music beckoned as the lights flashed and the crowded dance floor moved as one. She shifted from foot to foot, suddenly desperate to get out there, to let her hair down and just enjoy the music.

  Then Zac locked eyes with hers and everything seemed to fade into watercolor at the edges. For one second, the short velvet skirt and glittery silver tank top she’d dug from her closet felt way too undressed. But when he grinned, offered his hand and said, “Let’s dance, gorgeous,” all her self-consciousness melted away.

  Linking her fingers in his, he led her to the dance floor, the heavy bass warming her blood and tingling her skin.

  Bodies were everywhere, dancing and laughing, and when the current track suddenly morphed into a familiar Beyoncé hit, the crowd roared, then surged forward, sweeping them up into the vortex.

  Zac found a space near the shadowed stage and pulled her close, mashing her body up against his from thigh to collar. Emily’s body responded instantaneously.

  “It’s not that kind of dance,” she murmured, sucking in air as his arms looped possessively around her waist.

  “Don’t care.”

  His breath fluttered against her neck, delicious and warm, and slowly they began to move.

  Emily laid her cheek on his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, letting the music and heat wash over her. When she was with Zac, just like this, everything else seemed unimportant. It was like closing a door, a door that held her past, her problems and her doubts at bay.

  He made her feel wanted. Needed. Like she was some powerful sexual goddess in control of her destiny.

  His hands slid up her back, over the bumpy fabric of her tank, his fingers teasing the soft skin under the straps. And all the while, the crowd spun crazily around them, the music echoing her rising heart rate.

  “Hey, Zac! I thought it was you! How are you?”

  She felt him reluctantly pull away, and when she turned, a tall, gorgeous blonde stood beside them. Emily blinked, astonishment suddenly giving way to the burn of unwelcome jealousy as the woman dropped a brief kiss on his lips.

  If her smile was too stiff when Zac introduced them, he didn’t seem to notice. She nodded politely as fear and irritation solidified in her stomach, the snapshot of this stunning creature kissing Zac burning away in her mind as she overtly flirted with him.

  When the woman finally left, Emily was ready to pull out those glossy blond hairs one by one.

  “Who does she think she is?” she muttered under her breath as she glared into the crowd. She’d obviously seen the way she and Zac had been dancing, yet she’d kissed and flirted with abandon.

  She glanced up to see Zac watching her intently.

  “Josie works for Scandinavian Airlines,” he offered. “I met her on a flight to Europe.”

  “Was she—” Emily bit her lip, refusing to voice that damning question. It made her sound needy. Childish. Jealous.

  But Zac had her all figured out. He reached for her, dragging her back into his embrace. Her breath surged out as anticipation began to sluggishly chug through her veins.

  “Was she a girlfriend? No.” He paused to study her, his eyes way too perceptive even in the strobe-lighted darkness. “Why?”

  She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t say that she was burning with jealousy, that the mere attention from another female sparked ice-cold fear in her stomach.

  “Your exes have no concept of boundaries,” she said, then ended on a gasp as his palms slid boldly over her bottom.

  “She wasn’t my girlfriend. But you’re right,” he murmured, backing up and taking her with him until they hit the edge of the dance floor. “They don’t.”

  The massive stage curtains fell like a dark cloud at their backs, the shadows swallowing them.

  His lips found her neck. She shivered as his breath tripped over her sensitive flesh, his mouth shockingly hot as he began to sway in time to the sensual beat of a familiar chart topper.

  The heavy bass swirled, the throbbing pulse filling her chest, her throat. She could feel it vibrate through every muscle, echoing in Zac’s heartbeat as his chest pressed up against her.

  “Maybe coming here was a bad idea,” he whispered.

  Her heart skipped. “Why?”

  “Because of this.” He moved and his hard arousal pressed into her stomach.

  She groaned, and for a moment she wished she could remain like this, warm and protected. But then the lights flashed, illuminating the bar crowd for less than five seconds, before dropping them back into darkness. And in those seconds, Emily caught a figure in the throng, staring straight at them.

  She stumbled but Zac steadied her. When she glanced back, Louie Mayer was gone.

  The enjoyment of the night fled. She couldn’t concentrate on the music, on Zac’s warm body flush against hers, not now.

  “Can we get out of here?” she said softly.

  Zac’s eyes darkened, then with a short nod, he took her hand and they began the slow process of plowing through the dancers.

  Emily lay on Zac’s soft sheets staring at the ceiling, knowing she had a dopey smile on her face. Who wouldn’t grin like an idiot when she’d just been completely and thoroughly loved by Zac Prescott?

  “You okay?” Zac murmured in the moonlit darkness.

  “Fine.” She turned to him, propping her elbow on the mattress, her head on her hand. “But your stairs are tough on t
he back. And I think I have a splinter in my butt.”

  His grin flashed, sending a bolt of heat through her blood. “So next time, you can be on top. In fact…”

  He reached for her and rolled, and she went willingly. Her body still sang with their previous lovemaking, but that didn’t stop her heart from picking up in anticipation.

  They lay there wedged from chest to knee, Zac effortlessly cradling her weight. Gently, he brushed her hair back, tucking the long strands behind her ears, before tugging her down for a kiss. A soft, tender kiss that made her chest contract with a longing so deep, so sudden, that it made every bone dissolve with joy.

  In that moment, she completely understood why all those women wouldn’t take no for an answer. Zac Prescott was like a drug. Her body burned for his touch, his skilled hands, his sinful mouth. And when they weren’t together, like this, he was all she could think about.

  “What do you want me to do?” His breath was warm in her ear, his lips nibbling on her lobe. She stifled a groan and sat up, her brain thick with yearning.

  Her heart did another little leap as she stared down at him. Her knees firmly bracketed his waist, her bottom wedged on his abdomen. This was real. He was real.

  So why did she get the feeling it could all come crashing down in disaster?

  “Emily?”

  Zac reached out to grasp her waist. She was like some ancient goddess of fertility, with that womanly hourglass figure, the indented waist, the gentle belly curve. And those breasts…

  He reached up and palmed them, each luscious swell of generous flesh heavy in his hands.

  His groin began to stir again but he ignored it, instead taking the time to thumb those rosy-budded nipples, grinning when her breath hitched and her eyes began to close in dreamy pleasure.

  “What do you want me to do?” he repeated thickly. As his thumbs continued their rhythmic stroking, she began to quiver.

  “Just…just…”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t…”

  She wiggled in frustration and he swallowed a groan. “Look at me.”

  His command brooked no refusal. She sighed, slowly opening her eyes. The dark arousal in those depths made every muscle constrict with lust.

  “You’re in charge, Emily. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  Just when he thought he couldn’t be more turned on, her white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, the tiny pink tongue briefly flashing out to lick the spot.

  A new round of flames scorched across his skin, sending his heart rate sky high.

  “I want…” The warm flush spread across her cheeks as she blinked. “I want you to kiss me. All over.”

  With guttural triumph deep in his throat, he flipped her, pinning her to the mattress. He slid a knee between her legs, then dragged in a breath at the damp heat pooling there.

  “You’re wet.”

  She tipped back her head and closed her eyes with a mutter of assent, and he grinned. Shocking her gave him no small amount of pleasure. Seeing her flush, watching those lashes flutter nervously, all told him he affected her, that she wasn’t as indifferent as she pretended to be when they were in the office.

  Oh yeah, it pleased him greatly.

  He cupped her mound, the curls tickling his hand, and she dragged in a breath.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Emily.”

  Another murmur, another sigh.

  “First, your mouth.” He pinned her face with one hand, the other still resting possessively between her legs.

  When Zac’s lips came down on hers Emily couldn’t hold back her sigh of delight. Of all the things she’d missed about being intimate, kissing topped the list. Yet every other kiss paled in the wake of Zac’s. He started tender, almost gentle, but soon it deepened into something hot and breathless. When he pulled back she whimpered, no longer caring how it made her sound, just needing his lips on hers.

  “Relax.” His mouth went to her jaw, curving into a smile against her skin. “You wanted to be kissed all over, right?”

  “Yes.” Although she was quickly regretting her request, because his still hand between her legs had become an almost unbearable distraction.

  “So let me kiss you.”

  For endless minutes he lavished attention on her neck, then her breasts, before slipping down to her belly button, his hot breath creating a shivering path across her skin.

  She knew where he was headed. Every nerve screamed with anticipation. Yet when his mouth closed over the most intimate part of her, the sudden shock wrenched her off the bed with a gasp.

  He murmured gently and repositioned himself, cupping her bottom firmly in his palms before applying himself to the task of pleasuring her.

  She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything except feel…his strong hands, his teasing hot tongue, his warm breath. Even his chin, dusted with stubble, intimately grazed across her swollen flesh, creating an almost unbearable friction.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the ripples of ecstasy began to build. And Zac kept right on going, his tongue swirling around her hardened bud, his mouth kissing, sucking, teasing her into incoherence.

  The trembling began, first in her legs, then her body, then suddenly the orgasm crashed, wave upon wave of rapture forcing a whimper from her lips.

  Behind her eyelids everything went a shimmering, iridescent black. Her body twitched like she’d been shot with a thousand volts, skin throbbing with awareness. Through the thickening euphoric haze, she realized Zac had returned to her, his mouth a shocking musky combination of her passion and his desire.

  Her blood throbbed through her veins, echoing deep within as Zac smoothly eased inside her, joining them in the familiar lover’s dance.

  He groaned, bathing her in need, before he opened his eyes and that heat-laden gaze locked on hers.

  It was the ultimate act of intimacy, him moving deep inside, making love to her while their eyes held. Zac saw her every expression, every tiny move, as he slid out, then with a wicked grin, firmly back in. He heard every gasp, every murmur. And soon he was ready to explode, nerves raw from her erotic gasps of pleasure. When he finally went over the edge, she followed a moment later, their cries of release echoing off the bedroom walls.

  Emily tried to catch her breath, but Zac’s weight pinned her down.

  “Too heavy?” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

  “A little.”

  He rolled, taking her with him so she was on top, half sprawled across his chest. Beneath her cheek she felt the strong pounding heartbeat, his crisp hair teasing her skin.

  This. Right here. If everything collapsed into dust right now, she wouldn’t care.

  The minutes ticked by, the only movement when Zac reached down to cover their cooling bodies with the sheet.

  “I heard back from admissions,” she eventually said.

  “You got into uni.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good.”

  With a smile she slowly rolled off him to settle on her back. So why do I feel so…calm? “Better than good. It’s…” She blinked, struggling to define the burning need she’d never had to quantify until now. “It means progress. A goal achieved. It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

  The silence settled around them, until Zac shifted and sheets rustled softly.

  “Did you like living in Perth?” he said softly.

  “Not really.” She moved to her side to face him, tempering her curt reply with a small smile. “Nice city, great beaches. But I prefer Queensland.”

  The moonlight reflected his serious gaze. “What about your friends? Family?”

  “What about them?”

  He said nothing, until she finally let out a sigh.

  “My mother’s brother died and left me his place nearly three years ago. So I moved.” She shifted her weight, drawing the sheet firmly around her. “My sister AJ lives in Robina. Everyone else is…gone.”

  He studied her in silence. There
was something serious and honest in that look. It told her whatever she chose to reveal would remain between them. And more important, he wouldn’t judge.

  So instead of throwing up those familiar defenses she lay back, stared at the ceiling and answered him.

  “When I was seventeen I started temping for an agency in Perth.” It was easier to talk in the dark, where his all-seeing eyes couldn’t drag out any more than she was willing to give. “It was good money and interesting work, but eventually I wanted something permanent. So I applied for an office manager’s position at Hardy, Max & Taylor.”

  “The accountancy firm? That wasn’t on your CV.”

  “No. I quit after six months.”

  “Why?”

  She was a good liar, although not as good as AJ. To get through their childhood, to survive, lying had been a necessity for the Reynolds girls. But needing to and wanting to were two different things.

  “One of the managing directors cornered me on the balcony at the Christmas party and tried to feel me up. Not only was I a ‘hot piece with a great rack’—sexual harassment was alive and well in corporate Australia.”

  Zac made a small noise, a cross between a curse and a growl. When she turned, his profile squeezed her heart. He was angry—no, furious—and trying to rein it in.

  “Did you report it?” he ground out.

  “No.” At his puckered brow, she sighed. “I was twenty-two. I had no money, no power to take on one of Australia’s leading private companies. Someone would’ve leaked my complaint and then the TV stations would’ve been all over it. I didn’t want that kind of publicity. And anyway, it wasn’t such a big deal. He didn’t actually do anything.”

  “That’s bull and you know it.”

  Abruptly she sat up, dragging the sheet with her. “Don’t make this into some big emotional speed bump, Zac. I kneed him in the groin, he threatened sexual misconduct, so I quit. End of story.”

  “So you’re saying that didn’t have any lasting effect?”

  “What do you want me to say? It didn’t stop me dating, although my choice in men was poor to say the least. It didn’t stop me marrying Jimmy,” she snorted self-deprecatingly. “It didn’t stop me living my life.”