by Emma Salah
He walked her backwards. Some distant part of her heard something crash to the ground, noticed it was too loud, but she really didn’t care when Zac was basically fucking her mouth. She smacked into the wall behind her. Zac pressed her deeper into it. She was hotly aware of how much bigger, heavier, taller he was, his masculine scent surrounding her. He pulled back a little from her mouth and they both took deep gulps of air.
“What?” Reagan whispered when he paused to stare at her.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You’re...”
The intensity between them heightened.
“I’m amazing? I’m beautiful? I’m what?” she said, trying to ease the sudden tension in him.
Reagan traced his smile with a finger. “There you are.”
She felt proud that she could make him happy, even if it was for a moment.
“You’re so modest.”
“You mean like you’re modest, Mr. Champion?” she teased.
“You’re such a vixen.”
A vixen—ooh, she had plenty to say to that, except Zac reached for her shirt and made short work of her buttons. It lay forgotten and tangled around her waist when he plumped up her breast, holding it up like an offering, before his mouth descended and enveloped her bra-covered nipple. She cried out, her clit throbbing in unison to the pull of his lips. God, the way he could have her go from laughing to mad to crazy with desire astounded her. No one affected her the way Zac did. She shifted restlessly. He pressed his hip into hers and stopped her lower half from moving.
“Zac.” She tugged on his T-shirt.
He stopped sucking and as much as she wanted him to continue doing what he was doing, the results were well worth it when he whipped his top over his head.
Reagan went immediately to stroke the bare skin of his stomach. His muscles were tight and ripped and gorgeous. I’m in awe of him. He’d worked hard to be where he was and it showed on his perfect body. Except it wasn’t perfect she noticed when she looked closer. A smattering of light brown hair circled his belly button, not much, but what caught her attention was the faded brown scar right below it. Asking what happened would be pointless, because she knew what had happened. Sheriff Quinn. And this probably wasn’t the only scar Zac had, she realized angrily. How many others were there smattered across his body that she had never noticed? Was it—Nope, nope, I’m not going to let that selfish, horrible bastard ruin this moment for me or Zac. I want to stay in the here and now.
“Reagan,” Zac said, drawing her attention to the fact that she stood frozen, with her hands on his chest. “Is this too much for you to handle?”
“No!” she said, quickly. “Have I told you how pretty you are?”
He rolled his eyes. “No and I don’t want to hear it.”
“Pretty, pretty—”
She giggled as they kissed. Short, drugging kisses that had her head spinning and her laughter dying in her throat. Oh. Her hands ascended upwards to the smooth edge of his nipples. She pressed down on them and he gasped. It was so sexy she decided to do it again. Or better yet, her mouth drifted away from his to lick at the small tight nub, as her hair fell over her shoulders.
“Oh fuck,” he gritted out.
She hummed with pleasure when he unclasped her bra. She slipped out of it, letting it drop to the ground. With her tongue, she traced his chest, felt him smooth and rough beneath her, until she reached the cords of his neck. His throat convulsed when she nipped at the skin. She loved how sensitive he was, like he was aware of her every touch just as she was of his.
He squeezed her right breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. She dug her fingernails into his back as everything inside of her throbbed and light sparked behind her eyelids. Too much, not enough, more, more. He kept rolling her nipple, sending tingles of pleasure down her spine. She craved relief more than her next breath.
Reagan rocked into him, hoping that the friction would help. If anything, it was worse. Zac must have felt the same way, because he attacked the button and zipper of her jeans. She helped him undo it, just as frantic. She moaned into his mouth, her lips bruised from the exquisite pleasure. Without preamble, he dragged her jeans and panties down her ass, before they got caught around her ankles. She managed to kick them off with desperate, jerky movements.
Zac dipped his finger into her pussy and began to thrust. Reagan couldn’t breathe. She stopped giving him her mouth, throwing her head back. She reached for his wrist, not to stop him, but to just hold on. She didn’t know how empty she’d been until he’d filled her and she felt close to too full as he added another finger. I can’t even think of how much better it’ll be with his cock inside of me. She knew how good it could be.
“Zac,” she cried out, feeling him shift as he continued to finger-fuck her.
He buried his face in her neck, lips sucking on her skin. Her chest was tight, Reagan’s breath coming out in pants as she built fast towards a pleasure that was going to be so intense, she was already shuddering with it.
“Zac!”
“I’ve got you, Ree,” he murmured against her neck.
“Oh god. I can’t.” She caressed his wrist.
She was right on the edge.
“Don’t come yet,” he said, but added, “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
She tightened harder around his fingers, close to going off the edge. How am I supposed to stop now, she felt like wailing.
“Fuck, fuck, Ree,” he gasped, before pulling his fingers out of her.
The only reason why she didn’t curse him out was because he went to work on his jeans. Zac lowered his zipper while pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. He got out a condom and threw the wallet behind him. Hands shaking, he ripped the packet open and then shoved down his jeans and boxers. His cock was so hard and thick. He gripped the base of it and stroked upwards. Her clit throbbed as she watched him. He slid the condom down his length.
Yes, finally. His eyes fell on her. Zac pushed apart her knees and stepped between them. It was a tight fit. He bent his knees and used his fist to angle his cock upwards into her pussy.
The head was broad as it pushed inside. So good. It burned as inch by inch, he got deeper inside of her, until he let go and all of him was in her. So full. He was a lot bigger and longer than two fingers. He gripped her waist and pulled her up the wall. She slid up the length of his cock as he did that, until only the tip remained and then he slammed her back down.
“Ah! Zac!” She made a sound that would have embarrassed her at any other time. Something between a whimper and a moan.
He cursed softly as he began to thrust shallowly into her.
And because of the tight fit, his pelvic bone ground into her clit.
She clung to him, gasping. Blindly, she peppered kisses down his cheek until she found his mouth. He groaned, his hands on her waist like a vise as he bent his knees even more and thrust up harder into her. Oh shit. Oh shit. It felt incredible. Her body shook with need and Reagan knew she was seconds away from having the best orgasm of her life.
“Zac, I’m going to come,” she told him, desperately.
She ground down into him, tightening around him.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
She knew he’d given up on prolonging the inevitable when he used his thumb to rub her clit as he fucked her again and again.
“Come.”
And that was all it took.
Pleasure, unlike any she’d felt before, overtook her. She yelled out her orgasm into his mouth, babbling nonsense. She didn’t even feel the wall as he kept thrusting, his chest rubbing against hers, his muscles rippling and sending bolts of pleasure through her. She could feel it in every part of her body.
He planted an arm on the wall beside her head while the other went to her knee as he pushed her legs even further apart. He throbbed inside of her as he moved deeper s
till. Once. Twice. Until he groaned and shuddered. She felt his orgasm and she couldn’t stop herself from clamping down harder around him even if she wanted to.
“Fuck, Ree.”
He released her mouth and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. He straightened his knees and lifted her further up the wall. Her hands drifted into his dirty blond hair slowly. Out of breath, her heart beat wildly. His did too. They were sweaty and plastered together. And though Zac had done most of the heavy lifting, she could begin to feel the effects of what they had just done. Not that she cared.
I can’t believe we just did that, Reagan thought. Again. She twirled his hair around her finger, dropping a kiss on the cord of his neck. He was softening inside of her, still half-hard. She smiled.
Zac straightened his arm over Reagan’s head and pushed himself off. He didn’t look at her as he pulled out. Reagan gasped a little.
“You okay?” he asked, lowering her carefully to the ground, but not letting go.
That was definitely a good thing. Reagan didn’t think her legs could support her yet.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just... I can still feel you.”
He made a noise from the back of his throat. “You can’t say things like that, Ree.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why the fuck not?”
Zac pulled up her jeans and panties roughly, but she swiped his hands away and he let go, stepping back. Reagan zipped and buttoned her own jeans while he removed the condom and righted his clothes. Only when he got rid of the condom did he look at her again.
They stared at each other. Oh Lord, this was eerie. This was almost exactly like last week. Sex in a closet, check. Sex in a place where other people were in the building, check. Regret on Zac’s face, double check.
“Hi,” Reagan said, trying to inject some humor into the situation. “We really need to stop meeting like this.”
“Reagan—” Zac began, managing to infuse so much regret and dismay into just her name.
She smacked her hand over his mouth.
“No, it’s okay, Zac. I get it. You don’t need to say anything more.”
Oh boy, did she get it. She pushed down the hurt deep into the pit of her stomach. I knew this was going to be a long road and I’m still only at the beginning. She was not going to get discouraged just because Zac was having regrets. Again.
He took hold of her wrist and moved her hand off his mouth. She wanted to hold on to him, but he let her go. Zac rarely touched her anymore, outside of sex, that is.
He looked at her solemnly.
“No, I don’t think you do get it.”
“You want me to forget this ever happened and for us to go back to being friends. You think this thing between us is just a phase and if we keep on ignoring it, it will eventually die. And you think if this happens again between us, someone—namely one of my brothers—could find out and that might mean my family will never talk to you again. How am I doing so far?”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t lose that look. She sighed.
“We’re good, Zac,” she said.
“And what does being ‘good’ mean?” he asked.
“It means I’m not going to let you shove me into a compartment in your mind that you can conveniently forget about. If you think I’m going to let you do that, you don’t know me.”
“Oh, I know you,” he scoffed. “You only think you want me.”
She gasped. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He laughed grimly. “You, Reagan Thomas, are one of the most persistent, bullheaded women that I know.”
She poked him in the chest. “Take that back, Zachariah Quinn!”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “You and I both know that the only reason why you want me is because you’re so fixated on this idea of what it means to be with me.”
Of all the idiotic things to say! She didn’t know whether to stomp her feet or scream or cry.
“Is that what you think?” she asked quietly.
“It’s what I know.”
“You’re so stupid.”
She couldn’t tell if Zac just had a really low opinion of her or if he just didn’t believe anybody could ever want him for him. Either situation just left her feeling exhausted.
Zac opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hey. Are you guys okay in there? It’s been a while.” Aidan’s voice floated through the door.
Oh shit, they had definitely been in here for too long. Reagan was lucky that Aidan had knocked. If it had been Dean who had come for her, he wouldn’t have bothered. Zac gave her a look that said, See what I mean? A few minutes earlier and Aidan would have heard you crying out in pleasure while I fucked you. So maybe they needed to learn the definition of discretion, but it still didn’t change her feelings or her plan.
“This isn’t over between us,” she hissed under her breath.
She walked towards the closet door.
“Oh yes, it is,” Zac said, behind her.
Reagan yanked open the door and stepped outside, forcing Aidan to take a giant step back.
Aidan raised an eyebrow when he looked at her.
“Are you feeling better?” Aidan asked.
“No,” she said honestly. “But I will.”
She wasn’t going to take no for an answer anymore. She fell into step with Aidan as they made their way back to the living room, with a quiet Zac following. Reagan forced herself not to turn around. She was only going to look forward. And that meant it was time to go after what she really wanted: Zachariah Quinn. No more defense. She was going on the offense.
Chapter Nine
“Zac, we need to meet.” Reagan stood beside the window in her office, phone to her ear.
“Yeah, we do need to talk. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
She was hoping he’d say that. “I’m at my office.”
“Working on a Sunday, Ree. I hear being such a workaholic is bad for you.”
She sighed, wishing it was just about being addicted to her work. Ever since she signed Trent as a client, Daniel had been acting, well, like a dick. A shoe company had just approached her wanting Trent to be the face of their brand, which would theoretically be great exposure for the rookie. But Reagan had finally decided it wasn’t the right move for a number of reasons. First and foremost, the money being offered had been insultingly low since Trent was just starting out, but he was projected to go on to be one of the best players of his generation. So yeah, Reagan was not going to stand for her player being disrespected. Her hand tightened around the phone. Too fucking bad that Daniel didn’t think the same and would not shut up about how her decision was the wrong one. So now she had to write a five-page report for her boss, Alan, outlining her plan of action for Trent to cover all her bases. A report that she wished she could shove up Daniel’s patronizing, egocentric—
“Reagan?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m here.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen. Don’t work too hard.”
Zac hung up.
She was ready to confront him and this thing between them. Shivers of excitement and apprehension racked her body. She had been holding the phone for more than an hour, trying to work up the nerve to call him when she’d finally taken the plunge. But now that it was happening, there was only one thought going through her mind.
He’s coming to me.
Taking a deep breath, she walked to her desk. Sit down, or remain standing? After a few minutes of hyperventilating, she finally decided on standing, but behind her desk. Available, but not too available. Intimidating, but not too intimidating.
It had practically taken all her energy to figure out what to wear. In the end, Reagan had settled on a pencil skirt that reached just above her knees. A white, soft,
buttoned-up blouse that was tight around her breasts. She left her black hair to cascade down her shoulders. Minimal makeup, except for the nude lipstick that she had bought with Letty last week. She smoothed a hand down her skirt. She was ready. Ready to fight for what she wanted. She repeated the mantra over and over again as time slowly ticked by. She was still saying it as his shadow filled her doorway.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He didn’t say a word, just took her in. And she did the same.
Zac was dressed a hell of a lot more casually than he usually was and more than her. But he looked just as delicious. Black jeans clung to his narrow hips and were tucked into his large black boots. A similar blue shirt to the one he wore at family dinner and that matched his eyes perfectly stretched over his toned chest and showed off his well-muscled biceps. She really did like guys with impressive arms and she knew that Zac liked to work that part of his body. His dirty blond hair that was just a little too long to be labelled fashionable looked messy and windswept. But when didn’t it? He had the habit of running his fingers through his hair whenever he was nervous or agitated. A tell she loved that he had. It made him seem so much more...approachable, like maybe he wasn’t entirely out of her league.
He stepped into her office.
“Reagan.”
“Zac,” she said. “Come in. Sit down.”
He sprawled in her visitor’s chair, fingers tapping away on the arms. She swallowed at how comfortable he looked, at the way his energy seemed to make the room smaller, even though she was the one standing and he was the one sitting.
“Look, Ree, I don’t like—”
She cut him off, the words rushing out of her mouth. “I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” He said the words like he had never heard of them before.
Moment of truth. Could she make this work? No, I have to make this work.
“I think we can safely say that we can’t stay away from each other. Last night being a prime example of that—” she began.