“My shirt is sexy on you, Delia.” He grabs the hem and tugs, lifting it up to see what’s underneath, then trails his fingers under the shirt, under the edge of my panties. My legs spread of their own accord, welcoming his exploring touch.
Moving the material aside, he keeps eye contact with me as he circles my clit with the tip of his finger. I want to close my eyes, want to throw my head back and moan, but I don’t want to miss the way his green eyes light up.
He knows what he’s doing to me, knows he’s pushing me to the brink right now with slow, methodic strokes. Sweat is starting to form on the back of my neck and I can feel the pressure building up inside me, so persistent that my hips begin to move in time with his fingers, desperate to find the release he’s offering.
With his other hand, he pulls at my shirt, encouraging me to sit up. He scoots me to the edge of the seat, his lips seizing mine once I’m close enough to him.
He presses his tongue against the seam of my lips and I open for him as he moves his fingers to my opening and works them inside me.
I moan into his mouth and he swallows the sound.
He twists his finger within me as he rolls his tongue over mine. He’s hitting just the right spot and I’m riding his hand.
I wrench my mouth away and cry out as my body shudders with relief.
Zach pulls his fingers from me slowly, stroking me a few more times before pulling away entirely. He kisses the tip of my nose and sits back on his heels, a satisfied grin on his face.
“You’re proud of yourself, huh?”
I playfully kick at his chest and he grabs my ankle, pulling me down off the chair and under him in no time. His grin hasn’t moved an inch as he hovers above me.
“Very,” he whispers before kissing me again. “Now, let’s go to bed and stay there until we absolutely have to leave. Deal?”
“Deal.”
16
Me: Can we please go back to lying in your bed and snuggling? This college shit is for the birds.
Zach: This real world shit is for the birds.
Zach: I’m ready for a break myself.
Me: Oh, idea! Let’s meet for lunch. I don’t have another class until 3. Want to do me?
Me: NO. NO. TYPO! I DID NOT MEAN THAT!
Me: I mean, I did, but not right now.
Zach: Oh, I’d LOVE to do you. WINK.
Me: And lunch?
Zach: I’d love that as well. That pizza place I was raving about is about halfway. Want to do that?
Me: Let’s get it on.
Me: THE PIZZA! The pizza date!
Zach: Riiiiiiight.
Me: I’m here. Where are you?
Zach: I’m here. Come over to my car.
Me: This sounds like the beginning of a slasher film. Do you have any candy?
Zach: Just bring your cute ass over here, Delia.
Me: Roger that! On my way, sir!
I slide out of my car and glance around the parking lot, finally spotting Zach’s sleek black ride at the back. He’s parked nowhere near anyone else.
Figures—men and their automobiles.
As I approach the car, he rolls down the window and out pops Marshmallow’s head.
“Psst. Hey, we have candy in here,” Zach says, grinning.
“Um, excuse me, you have a goat in there. I’ll get in for a goat way before I get in for candy.”
Zach mocks offense while Marshmallow makes a loud high-pitched noise and does that cute sloppy goat grin he does.
I slide into the passenger seat and take Marshy off Zach’s hands.
“I can’t believe you brought him.”
“I didn’t want him to miss out on pizza. Plus, he missed you.”
“He missed me? Or you did?”
“Okay, it was me. I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other in a week, again. Our schedules are shit,” he complains.
“They are, but Thanksgiving is coming up and I’m sure we’ll be—” I clamp my mouth shut.
I almost made plans with Zach—holiday plans. That’s getting serious, and I don’t know about getting serious.
I bury my nose in Marshmallow’s fur, snuggling him close as a distraction.
Zach doesn’t let me get away with it.
“Were you trying to say we’ll be spending Thanksgiving together, Delia?”
I give the goat another hug.
“Stop hugging the goat.” Zach plucks him from my arms and sets him in the back seat on the dog pillow he has back there.
“But he’s so soft,” I whine.
“What were you saying about Thanksgiving?”
“I…hell, Zach, I don’t know. I guess I was unintentionally making holiday plans with you. We haven’t been dating long and we’re nowhere near the meet-the-family stage, so I’m not sure why I said anything at all.”
“I see. And what if I were to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with me and my family? Would you turn me down?”
My eyes shoot to his. He’s being serious. He wants me to spend Thanksgiving with him.
“No.”
The word falls out of my mouth, and I can’t take it back.
But I don’t want to. I mean it—I do want to spend Thanksgiving with him. Call me nuts, call me stupid, call me whatever the hell you want, but spending time with Zach has quickly become my favorite thing to do. There’s no way I’ll say no to him.
“Delia, would you like to spend Thanksgiving with me? Meet my parents, my brother?”
The family. I have to meet the family. Fuck.
“It’s only my stepmom, dad, and younger brother, no one else. We keep Thanksgiving small. It’s close to the anniversary of my mom’s death, so we don’t go all out.”
That breaks my heart. After all these years, after another marriage, they still pay their respects to his mom.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“I said I want you there. That’s not intruding. Do you already have plans with your family?”
“Liam’s heading to his new girlfriend’s place, my mom is going on a cruise—her first vacation in years—and Zoe is spending time with her family. So, no. I was planning to pig out on the couch and surf Black Friday deals, maybe see you the day before or after.”
“You’re doing Thanksgiving with the Hastings then.”
“It’s settled.”
Marshmallow grunts and curls into himself on his bed.
“So, we going in to grab grub or what?” I ask.
“I have that covered already.”
Not even two seconds later, there’s a knock on his window. Zach clicks the button and the smell of pizza wafts into the car.
“Um…” A guy holding a pizza box bends down, face peering into the car. He flicks his gaze to me and then to Marshmallow. “Right. Um, there’s a delivery to this car?”
“Yep. I ordered two drinks, ranch, and extra napkins too.”
“All right here.”
The delivery guys balances a bag on top of the box and slides it through the open window before handing over the drink carrier.
Zach grabs the outstretched pizza and drinks and hands over a few bills. “Thanks, man. Keep the change.”
The kid stands there, dumbfounded. He scratches his head, looking from the receipt to Zach and back a few times before finally shrugging and trudging away.
Zach clicks the window back up and removes the drinks from the carrier, placing them in the car’s cup holders. He then digs around in the bag, pulling out the napkins and ranch.
“Good, they gave us enough ranch.” Opening the box, he holds it my way. “Chow time.”
“You seriously had a pizza delivered to the car as we sit in the parking lot of their establishment?”
“What? I can’t take Marshmallow inside to eat, so I had to do what I had to do.”
I shake my head and sigh. “How can you be so cute and so weird at the same time?”
He shrugs. “It’s a gift of mine. Now, help me eat this pizza.”
“Don’t ha
ve to ask me twice.”
I grab a slice, devouring it in a few bites. “Holy shit, this is the best pizza ever.”
“I told you so. Try it with ranch. I had them give me two different kinds.”
“You and your ranch obsession…” I wiggle my fingers his way. “Gimme.”
We sit there chowing down on the pizza, nearly finishing the whole thing off before finally declaring we’re full.
“I can’t eat another bite,” I groan.
“I can, but I don’t want to be that fat kid that eats the entire pizza with his girlfriend staring at him like he’s a chub monster.”
Girlfriend.
I know we decided we were officially dating and all that, but we’ve yet to speak those words out loud.
“Is that how you’ll introduce me to your parents? As your girlfriend?”
“I was going to tell them you’re my goat baby momma, but I don’t know if they’d find that as funny as I would.”
“No, I doubt they would, you weirdo.” I glance back at the still sleeping goat. “Speaking of…are we taking Marshy? Where do your parents even live? I need to prepare if this is a long-ass road trip. How long will we be gone? Should I shave my legs? Should I pack an extra razor?”
Zach grabs my shoulder and gives me a shake. “Breathe, please.”
“I can’t!”
“You can! They live two hours north of here. Yes, please shave your legs—they’re disgustingly hairy.” I playfully slap his shoulder. “Marshy is coming. My mom can’t wait to meet him. And we can stay up there as long as you want. I usually drive up Thanksgiving morning and stay until Sunday afternoon. I do have to work until 3 on Wednesday, but after that, I’m free.”
“Okay, you’ll have to remind me of all that before we leave, because I’ll be honest, I may even forget who you are these next few days. My professors are being dicks and I have three tests to take before break.”
“I don’t miss those days one bit,” Zach remarks.
“I already don’t miss them, but only just over one more semester left. Then I’m free. I have no idea what I’m doing after that, but I’ll still be free, and that’s all that counts.”
“You really don’t have a single clue?”
“Welllll…” I draw out. “I do, but I don’t want to put all my eggs in that basket. I’d really like to procure a spot in a smaller company, one that’s still growing, maybe even something freelance? I have no clue yet.”
“If you want…” he starts before pausing, considering what to say next.
“If I want what?”
“I haven’t talked much about this with anyone other than Robbie, but I’m thinking about expanding my Embody Positivity movement…like making it a full-fledged company. I’ll need someone to help with the website and keeping the blog and press stuff up to date. Would that be something you’re interested in?”
I stare at him, blinking a few times, trying to process what he just said.
“Is this because we’re fucking?”
“Um…no. It’s because of the way you looked at me when I talked about the project and showed you the app. Figured you might want to be included somehow.” He holds his hands up. “If I’ve offended you with my offer, I’m sorry.”
Well I’m a total bitch.
I groan. “No, no. I was being stupid. I assumed you only offered because I sound desperate to figure out my life after college and you felt obligated because we’re screwing.”
“Stop saying it like that. You make me sound like a cheap whore.”
I lean over the seat and whisper into his ear, “We’re fucking, Zach.”
He turns his head my way, his mossy eyes colliding with mine. His stare is hard, serious. I get lost in the sincerity of them.
“We’re dating, Delia. That’s a whole lot more than fucking.”
His words hit me like a wave during a hurricane. They’re enough to knock me down and take my breath away.
“Do you get it now, Delia?”
I swallow thickly and nod. “I get it, Zach.”
17
Me: Zoe’s mad at you.
Zach: What did I do that I didn’t know I did?
Me: You apparently ate her cupcake.
Me: And that sounded WAY worse than I intended.
Me: Maybe I should be mad now if you’re eating my friend’s cupcake.
Zach: I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another cupcake again without thinking of your sweet, sweet…
Me: DON’T SAY IT!
Zach: Say what? I was going to say smile.
Me: You were going to say pussy because you’re a disgusting man and want to ruin cupcakes for me forever.
Zach: I was totally going to say pussy, but it’s still true.
Zach: Hey, Delia?
Me: Yeah…
Zach: Pussy.
Me: I’ll show you pussy…
Zach: Finally! We’re sexting!
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Zach: That is the last thing I had in mind.
Zach: Also, that kitten is adorable.
Me: Right? Do you think Marshy would mesh well with a cat?
Zach: I am not buying a cat, Delia.
Me: We’ll see.
Zach: It’s not happening. Get it out of your head RIGHT NOW.
Me: Like I said, Zach, WE’LL SEE. WINK.
Zach: Don’t you wink at me.
Zach: Delia…
Zach: DELIA!
Zach: Goddammit. I’m getting a cat, aren’t I?
Me: WINK.
Zach: How’d your tests go?
Zach: Also, I just realized we still text versus talking on the phone. Is that weird?
Me: I think it’s a good thing to keep the roots of our relationship strong. Besides, I can say weird shit to you via text that I don’t feel comfortable saying otherwise.
Me: Like one time I believed goose and geese were two different animals. Spoiler alert: they’re not.
Zach: How did you make it to college? As a senior?
Me: The world will never know.
Me: My test was okay. I think I did well on the econ one. We’ll see after break.
Zach: Speaking of break…are you getting nervous? Meeting the parents and all that.
Me: Um…YES. Thanks for the reminder, jerk.
Me: I’ve been diligent in keeping up with shaving my legs—just for your dad. ;-)
Zach: No. NO. There will be NO sexy jokes involving my dad, Delia. NONE.
Me: I’m just saying, if Mr. Hastings is half as hot as you…DAAAAAAMN. I’d hit that.
Zach: I’m taking my offer back. You’re uninvited to Thanksgiving.
Me: And you’re out of my bed for at least three weeks.
Zach: *pouts* Fine. You can come, BUT STOP CREEPING ON MY DAD.
Me: We’ll see how he feels about that.
Me: P.S. I only have eyes for you.
Zach: I can’t even respond with something clever. My ego, it’s wounded.
Me: Is that even possible?
Zach: And she strikes again!
Me: Great, now I’ll have to spend the entire trip reassuring you of your complete and total sexiness.
Zach: Only if you feel like that would help…
Me: He says innocently. *rolls eyes* I’m onto you.
Zach: I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.
Zach: I’ll be there in about thirty. Had to stop and adjust Marshmallow real quick. He’s so high maintenance.
Me: I’ll get dressed now then.
Zach: So…you’re naked?
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Zach: Wow. Yes. You are definitely naked. *saves to spank bank*
Me: You had better delete that.
Me: Also, you’re welcome.
Zach: I promise I will.
Zach: Also, curiosity and all that, will you maybe still be naked when I get there?
Me: Depends on how fast you drive.
Zach: Challenge accepted.
18
“You’re not naked.”
“Very astute observation.”
“But I thought you’d be naked. I thought there’d be hot wild sex.”
“There’s a goat waiting for us in the car…”
Zach groans. “He’s such a little cockblocker.”
I snicker. “Come on, help me grab my bags.”
“Bags? Plural?”
“What? I wasn’t sure which outfit your dad would like the most, so I packed a variety.”
He drops his head into his hands. “Stop it, Delia.”
“Never.” I point to my bags. “Grab those. I’ll fetch the snacks.”
“You brought snacks? Aren’t you supposed to starve yourself Thanksgiving morning so you’re nice and hungry before dinner and can gorge?”
I point at myself. “This is me we’re talking about here. Do you really want me to go hours without eating?”
“Excellent point. I don’t want to be trapped in a car for two hours with a hangry food-whore. Grab those snacks—hell, grab extras.”
“Extras? Don’t be mean about it.”
“I’m not, I’m not. Just being…smart about it.”
Texting Box Set: The Complete Series Page 15