by Emma Salah
And just like that the betting started.
Dean blew out a raspberry.
“That’s easy. I bet twenty on Zac too.”
What the fuck? Reagan turned around and glared at him.
“Bitch, you forget that you’re supposed to be my brother?” Reagan spluttered as everyone laughed.
Dean shrugged. “Sorry, sis. Bros before hoes.”
“And you just called me a hoe!”
Letty rooted through her bag.
“I’ll put twenty on Reagan.” She slapped the money into Malcolm’s hand.
“You got this,” Letty whispered to her on her way back to her seat.
I so totally got this.
She jumped from foot to foot, shaking out her arms. So totally got this.
“You ready for this, Ree?” Zac murmured to her as the number 3 flashed on the screen.
2.
“You are so going down,” she murmured back.
1.
Fight!
Reagan threw out her right arm immediately, but Zac was ready for that and blocked. For a minute, they both parried and tried to feint each other, but neither could seem to get the upper hand. Until, finally Zac’s right hook connected. Her avatar on-screen fell to the ground.
“Ouch,” the crowd groaned together.
Get up, get up, she told her character. Her character, a sweaty man in boxers, stumbled to his feet. You got this. You got this.
The same song and dance began again. She tried to hit him, he blocked. Her arms were getting tired—she really needed to go back to the gym!—and a sneak peek at Zac’s determined face told her he could do this all day any day. Oh shit.
“Come on, Reagan! You got this!” Letty called out.
“Come on, Reagan! Crush him!”
The support of her team sent a much-needed surge of energy through her. Her jab suddenly connected with Zac’s avatar. With his guard down, she was able to land another punch and then another. The Blue team screamed their encouragement. She kept punching and Zac’s character fell back in an exaggerated fall to the ground.
Oh shit, she did it. He’s down.
And he’s staying down. Still, she held her breath until the screen flashed “You win.” Yes!
“And victory is mine!” She threw up her hands in tribulation.
They turned to each other. Zac held out his hand. Laughing, she took it, but he didn’t let go of her immediately.
“What?” she asked.
“That wasn’t bad.”
She laughed again. “I crushed you.”
“Let’s not go that far,” he scoffed.
“A win is a win, no matter what.” She grinned as she threw the words he had been saying to her over the years back in his face.
“A very wise saying.”
“Shut up.” She smacked him in the chest. “By the way...”
Zac raised his eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
She dropped her voice as she moved in closer. “We might occasionally fight, Zac, but fighting with you and by your side is always a pleasure.”
His eyes darkened, his mouth opened, but she never got to hear what he was going to say.
“And you know what that means! Blue team wins!” Aidan announced.
Blue team leapt to their feet and let out a collective “whoop” of excitement. Dean grabbed Reagan and spun her around, making her dizzy with laughter.
“Put me down, you lunatic!”
He finally set her down, only to throw his arms around Callum.
“Fuck, can’t believe we lost,” Malcolm grumbled.
“Believe it! And start getting used to it, because that’s all you’re going to be doing this year,” Dean crowed.
Malcolm held up his middle finger. This led to a lot more bickering between the two groups.
Reagan turned when she felt Zac’s gaze on the side of her face, instantly snared by him. They stared at each other from across the room. She didn’t know what his eyes were saying, but there was a world of emotion in them. She felt like she could drown and never find her way to the surface and she didn’t want to. Oh god, she was so in love with him. She had to swallow down the emotion, because it threatened to bubble up. The air seemed to crackle between them as they faced off. It wasn’t just physical, it was personal. She wasn’t going to rest until he knew exactly what he meant to her.
She looked away.
* * *
Hours later, the party was finally unwinding.
“I think this is my cue to go home.”
Letty had already gone and all her brothers had left as well. She hadn’t seen Zac in a little while. The house was almost empty, with only a few stragglers left behind.
Reagan said goodbye to the girls she had been hanging with and went to find Callum.
She found him out on his balcony, leaning over the railing, his head down. It was pretty warm outside, which was a good thing since Callum wasn’t wearing a jacket. His colored tattoos were beautiful against his dark skin. She’d always thought so. She touched him on the shoulder, trying not to startle him.
Dark bleak eyes met hers when he lifted his head. There was so much pain in his eyes she gasped and wondered for a moment if he was physically hurt.
“Callum, what’s wrong?”
He didn’t say anything, but it seemed like he wanted to. Like he was wrestling with it. She stroked his wavy hair softly.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, or if you can’t. Whenever you are ready to talk, I’m here, okay?”
He nodded.
For a moment they stayed like that. Her stroking Callum’s hair and him letting her. Then he shifted away from her and his attention wandered to the cloudless dark sky. She knew that was her cue to leave, but...
“Are you going to be okay?” She hesitated.
He didn’t look at her. Reagan really wanted to push him into talking to her, but that was the wrong move. Once, when she was fourteen, the week before Callum had gone off to college, she’d found him sitting outside the house, back against the wall. She’d asked him what was wrong then too, but he’d only shaken his head. She’d sat with him for hours, but it was only the night before he was about to leave that he told her.
* * *
“I’m scared of being by myself. Away from the family. What if...?”
“What if what?” Reagan asked him.
“I don’t know. What if I don’t know who I am, never find out who I am, or I do and I can’t come back home anymore.”
“Nothing, there’s no reason in the world why you’d never be allowed to come back home. And if you tried to escape, we’d all come and drag your ass back, kicking and screaming.”
* * *
“Goodnight, Callum.”
“Night, sis.”
She walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
Reagan held her phone in her hand as she walked out of Callum’s house, making her way over to where her car was parked. She was wondering if she should text Callum. Something was really wrong with him. She couldn’t imagine what it could be. Was he injured? Or was it something else? She sighed as she put her phone in her back pocket, taking out her car keys. No matter how much she wanted to reach out, she didn’t want to nag him. She needed to give him space.
She froze mid-step.
Zac leaned against his Lexus.
“You’re still here,” she whispered.
He straightened. She wanted to ask him what he was doing here, but she knew. One look into his blue heated eyes and her body shivered All the teasing over the last couple of hours had left her revved up. Oh god, she was about to break her own rule.
He opened the door.
“Get in, Reagan.”
“What about my car?”
“
We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow.
She got in. He shut the door and got into the driver’s seat.
Reagan didn’t say anything. She was too busy trying to control her breathing and resisting the urge to rub her thighs together and ease the ache. And the vibrations were not helping either. Neither were the glances she kept stealing of Zac. He was too gorgeous for his own good.
Zac waited until they were moving to speak.
“Take off your panties,” he said.
Reagan’s head turned sharply towards his. He didn’t look away from the road. Both hands were on the steering wheel and his knuckles were slightly white.
“Um...”
“That wasn’t a suggestion. Take off your panties, Ree.”
She blew out a breath. Her trembling hands reached for her buttons and zipper. She undid them and drew her jeans down, unlacing her Converses and kicking off both her jeans and shoes. Sitting in her baby blue panties with the world slipping by left her feeling very self-conscious. So much that she didn’t know if she could do it, but she couldn’t deny that she was excited as hell. The proof was in the slickness of her pussy.
“Come on, little vixen.” Zac’s voice dropped low. “I want to see how you make yourself come.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” she admitted. She was feeling way too self-conscious.
“Don’t think about anything. Just focus on me and you. Touch yourself for me, Reagan.”
Her hand slid under her panties. Her fingers brushed her clit, then down to her center where she was slick.
“Have you ever done this, by yourself, thinking about me?”
She nodded. She was embarrassed for him to know how often she had done it over the years.
“Me too. Fuck. Just knowing that is enough to make me hard.”
His groan echoed around her, reaching deep and embedding itself under her skin. Her eyes drifted to his crotch. Yep, he was hard beneath his jeans. She felt the cool breeze of air against her heated skin and it made her pant in desperation. Her palm was smooth as she rubbed it back and forth over her clit, breathing in and catching hints of his masculine scent. Oh shit. She bit her lip, the pulsing between her thighs intensifying.
“I’m going to come,” Reagan gasped out.
She barely noticed when the car swerved and they suddenly parked. She was so focused on riding her intense orgasm. She did notice however when Zac grabbed her by the waist and pulled her over the console. He settled her in his lap, pushing the car seat back as far as it would go so they were reclining, before kissing her senseless. Her hands touched his neck.
“This is crazy,” she gasped when he finally let her breathe.
He answered by tightening his grip on her hips and grinding his erection against her.
“We should stop,” she tried again.
He yanked her T-shirt over her head. She pulled his shirt off and threw it into the back.
“Don’t tell me to stop, because I don’t think I could.”
“Stop? Are you crazy? If you stop now, I’ll kill you, Zachariah Quinn.”
He laughed, which turned into a moan when she finally pulled out his cock. Hard and heavy just like she wanted him. She ran her hands all over him. Her mouth watered and she was tempted to get onto her knees and suck him off again.
“Nope,” Zac said, pushing her hands off him. “I need to be inside of you right now.”
“Condom.” She remembered in the last second.
He flicked open the glove compartment and rooted around, bringing out a foil packet. She took it from him, ripped it open and fitted the condom.
He helped her lift up over him, until her pussy was aligned with his cock. She lowered herself, taking him slowly. They both groaned. Until, finally, thank you god, she took all of him. Head tipped back, Reagan paused for a moment.
“You feel so good.”
She had no answer for that, but another moan.
She rode him fast and she rode him dirty.
He cupped both of her breasts in his hands and squeezed her nipples.
“Faster.”
He thrust up into her. She cried out. They fell into a rhythm with her grinding down and him thrusting up into her. Reagan’s orgasm swept over her in shocking waves of pleasure, her pussy squeezing his cock, sending him right over the edge.
Her head fell onto his shoulder, exhausted. Zac wrapped his arms around her, breathing just as hard in her ears.
“Mm, is the sex supposed to be getting better and better?” She wanted to know.
“I have no idea.” He stroked her spine. “But if it gets any better than this I might not survive.”
She giggled. Reagan lifted her head to look at him, running her hand down his face. So pretty. And all male, she thought as she felt his stubble beneath her fingers.
“Come home with me tonight?” she asked him, the words emerging from a deep part of her.
She felt him tense beneath her. His eyes darkened.
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Ree.”
“Why?”
He shook his head. “I just—”
She kissed him, stopping whatever hurtful words he was about to say. She rubbed her lips gently over his. Mm, this was an okay tactic, kissing everything better, but she was onto him. He might have won the battle, but she was going to win the war. He had promised he was going to try from now on and she was going to hold him to it.
“Come home with me, Zac,” she whispered again. “I need you.”
His arms tightened around her. She prayed desperately he gave her the answer she wanted. He swallowed before he gave her his reply.
“Okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next night Zac stood outside Reagan’s door.
Reagan had given him no clues as to what tonight would entail. All she had told him was the time and place: 6:30 pm and her apartment. Other than that, he had no fucking clue what he was about to walk into.
How the hell did we get here? He’d spent last night in Reagan’s bed, not doing much but lying under the covers—oh, and arguing about the X-Men.
* * *
“You can’t possibly say that Magneto is the best character, he’s the villain,” she hissed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nose against his.
“And you can’t say that Professor X is anything but boring,” he retorted.
“But the comics—”
“Nope.” He rolled her onto her back. “What did I say about the comics?”
There was only one rule: he hadn’t read them so she was not allowed to bring them up.
* * *
The way she’d grumbled and bitched was honestly the cutest thing and he had not been able to resist kissing her. Why am I resisting her? No matter how much of an asshole he acted like—and he’d done some dickish things—she refused to give up on him. Why? Why the hell is she working so hard to be with me? He pressed his forehead against the cold wooden door. Maybe, fuck, maybe it wasn’t the worst idea if they tried to... He lifted his head and let it fall, the sound of the thud echoing in the hallway. Some much needed pain helped him remember exactly why he couldn’t give in, why spending the night had felt great at the beginning, until the nightmare came. They always came.
Now it was Reagan’s turn to pick and decide their dates. So far, they were tied, if he was keeping score of who had the upper hand. Ree might not back down, he thought, straightening and moving back, but, as soon as things become sexual, she loses her train of thought quickly.
As was tradition, Zac was holding a bouquet of flowers. Oh, he knew how much the flowers annoyed Reagan, but he just didn’t give a fuck. That was a lie—he did give a fuck. He enjoyed seeing the flash of irritation in Reagan’s eyes every single time he handed them over and it might be perverse just how much he liked it. He was goin
g to like it even better when she finally lost her temper and called him on it. Maybe then, he would bend her over the couch and fuck her—
Reagan’s door opened and he was confronted with the woman of his thoughts.
“Hi,” she greeted him.
Her eyes drifted down to the flowers he was holding. And there it was: that little flash of ire, before she pushed it down.
“For me?” she said through clenched teeth. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know how much you love flowers,” he murmured as he handed them to her.
Zac looked her up and down. Hair braided past her shoulder. Minimal makeup. Casual clothes. No shoes. Even now, she was so goddamn beautiful it hurt to look at her, but he couldn’t look away.
“We’re staying in?”
She nodded. “Yep. We’re going to be eating at home.”
“What are you up to, Reagan?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she disappeared inside.
He hadn’t bothered to put on a jacket, and was only wearing a black shirt and his black jeans, so he followed her into the kitchen after kicking the door shut. He watched as she dumped the bouquet of flowers in a vase.
“And FYI, we’re going to be making dinner,” Reagan told him.
She moved to her counter, where there was a chopping board, a knife and bowls of different vegetables. He stared. Shit, she was serious about this.
“So why are you cooking?” Zac asked, hesitantly.
Reagan shrugged as she began cutting up some tomatoes. “Because I thought it would be nicer than going to another restaurant.”
“But you hate cooking.”
“Hey! I do not hate...” Her voice trailed off when she saw his raised eyebrows. “Okay, it’s not my favorite thing to do, but I thought it would be romantic.”
Romantic? He wanted to scoff. It wouldn’t be romantic when she burned down the house and they had nothing to eat. Zac opened his mouth to tell her just that when she pointed her knife at him.