Book Read Free

Not Since You

Page 8

by Jared, Jenna


  "Mm-hmm." She popped him out of her mouth and peered up at him coyly. "That's the idea." Carrie swirled her tongue around his tip and gave his balls a gentle squeeze before opening her lips and engulfing him.

  Zack felt his eyes rolling back, felt his balls clench and then release, a hot pulse of scalding fluid. And Carrie was taking it, accepting all of him—and that was the most amazing thing about it.

  She finished him off with a slide of her tongue and stood, an impish grin on her face. "That was because I missed you. And because…well…I never did that for you."

  Then how did she learn to do that? With whom? He fought back a wave of jealousy. It was none of his business. Eighteen years is a long time. But…who was the guy? Was he hung like a horse? What if she still had feelings for him? What if—

  She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "And it's because—I love you, Zack Mahoney."

  He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a bear hug, his heart swelling until his chest ached. "Carrie-da. Don't you ever leave me again. I love you. I want to marry you."

  She looked him up and down. "Zack Mahoney. I've imagined you telling me you want to marry me up, down and sideways, but I never imagined you doing it naked in your kitchen with your pants around your ankles." She leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

  Oh. Yeah. That. Well… He felt himself blush and leaned to pull up his pants. She had a point. He zipped and buckled back up. "You imagined me telling you I wanted to marry you?"

  This is good. If she's imagined it, then there isn't any special, well-hung guy in her life.

  But still… "That was—incredible, Carrie-da."

  "Glad you enjoyed it." She picked up the zucchini. "I feel kind of bad slicing this up now. Can we pass on the zuke?"

  Zack peered over her shoulder. He pressed her up against the counter with his large, muscular body. His breath puffed hot down her neck, right against her collarbone, and she shivered; his tongue slid down her neck to the place where her neck met her shoulder. Oh. My. God. Carrie shivered as her body responded. She dropped the zucchini and closed her eyes as he bit and sucked at her sensitive spot. He remembers, she thought, her body growing liquid and slick. In moments, she crested into a quick, hard orgasm. She shuddered against him.

  He slid his hands around her waist and upwards, pushing her T-shirt and bra out of his way on his quest to her breasts; in moments his long-fingered hands were cupping and squeezing her breasts in his warm palms and tweaking her nipples with his fingertips. Still, his mouth stayed at her sensitive spot, nipping and sucking. Another orgasm coursed through her. Her head fell back on his shoulder. She pushed her breasts into his hands and leaned against his supportive body. His rigid erection pressed her back. "Oh, Zack," she moaned.

  "Mm?" He hummed against her neck.

  "I…need…to…"

  "Hmm?" He pinched her nipples and squeezed her breasts. Oh, she felt empty and aching without him between her legs.

  "I need you inside me. Now."

  A flurry of motion and Carrie's cutoffs were off. So was her T-shirt, then her bra. In seconds, she was naked and exposed to Zack Mahoney's hungry, searching gaze. His eyes were like dark, fiery coals as he stared at her body, his hands lingering possessively at her hips. "Carrie-da. You're a woman now. You're not a girl anymore." He lifted her up onto the counter and spread her knees with his hands, exposing her most private parts to his hungry gaze.

  A spear of anxiety thrust through her. "What does that mean? You think I'm fat, don't you? Okay, so I packed on a few pounds, but—"

  He dropped his mouth to hers, stopping her protests, pulling her to the edge of the counter so that she had to wrap her legs around his body. His uniform, scratchy and cool, rasped against her naked flesh. Her pussy grew heavy, swollen, and her clit tingled as he moved against her. She needed him as she never had as a teenager. . His lips, his tongue, his teeth, bit and sucked at her mouth in a way that promised all kinds of erotic passion… She groaned as he pulled away.

  "It means—you are perfect." He swept her up into his arms.

  "I'm not going to your bedroom, Zack," she warned.

  "No, you're not," he said. "You're staying right here." He settled her back onto the marble countertop. "Oh. Look what I found." He pulled his hand from behind her and held up the zucchini, his eyes dancing. "What do you think? Wanna try it?"

  She raised her eyebrows at him. "I want you, not a vegetable."

  "Then it's me you get." He kissed her neck again. She shivered. "I love you, Carrie Kennedy."

  "Zack." She pressed her hands against his cheeks, looking him in the eyes. The years fell away. She was with the man she'd loved her whole life. She was never going to leave him again. Screw Texas. "Zack. Call me Carrie-da."

  *****

  "Morning, Carrie-da," Zack whispered against her neck.

  Carrie opened her eyes to see the man of her dreams hovering over her, a smile on his morning-rough face. His hair stuck up in little horns all over his head, sleep-rumpled.

  "Zack Mahoney," she murmured, stroking his shoulder, loving the feel of his hot, smooth skin and the bunch of muscles beneath. "You look like the devil in the morning."

  "And you look like an angel." He kissed her with reverence, and Carrie knew she would do best never to leave this man's side again.

  "What time is it?"

  "Early. The sun's barely up."

  He rolled onto his back. "Scootch over, will you? Half my ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress."

  "Hey. It's your guest bedroom. Why don't you spring for at least a full-sized bed instead of these wanky twins? What kinds of guests do you get, anyway, who sleep in twin beds?"

  "Not many." He folded her into his arms and sighed. "It's nice to know you're the one who has to leave, this time. Remember how I'd have to sneak out and ride my bike home? I almost got caught by the paper boy a few times. Not that he would have cared, but if he said anything…" He closed his eyes. He had the longest, darkest eyelashes that Carrie had ever seen on any man.

  She smiled to herself, knowing that to mention it would be to slight his masculinity. Then again, he didn't doubt his prowess. He'd risen to the occasion again and again during the night, impressing her each time. She pressed her cheek against his muscular chest and strolled her fingers through the rough mat of hair, loving the way it arrowed down to a vee and pointed its way to his manly bits.

  "Hey now…none of that." He grabbed her hand and moved it away from his dick.

  "Don't tell me you're too tired, my mighty Zackhammer."

  He grunted. "No. But if you want to be out of here before Samantha wakes up, you should go soon."

  Carrie frowned. "Why would I want to leave before Samantha wakes up?"

  "I don't think it's a good idea for her to find us in bed together. What kind of message would it send her?"

  Carrie sat up. Zack's eyes went immediately to her breasts—he reached out a hand to cup her. She pushed it away. "What do you mean, message?"

  He frowned. "She's young, she's impressionable—"

  "She's seventeen, Zack!"

  "That's what I said. She's young." He frowned. "I don't want her to think that I condone premarital sex—"

  "Zack!" Carrie goggled at him. "First of all…what do you mean, you don't condone it? You did it! All night!"

  "That's different. That's us. We're older than she is." He sat up, too.

  "She's seventeen!" Carrie repeated. "I was seventeen when we made love for the first time. For the only time, I may add."

  "Yeah, and look how that turned out."

  Carrie wanted to punch him. "Only because you—you…" She trailed off. He what? Rescued her best friend from disgrace by giving her his name and raising her daughter as his own. "I think you're overprotective. She's leaving for college in the fall. And she's not stupid, Zack. She left us last night so we could have sex."

  He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and got up with a fluid grace. Carrie couldn't h
elp but devour the sight of his nude body, all muscle and masculinity. And a cute set of manly buns that begged to be pinched. But he was in no mood to play, not anymore. He found his pants and pulled them on. "She didn't. She just wanted to give us time to talk."

  "Talk? Zack. Don't be obtuse."

  He shrugged into his shirt. "I'm not being obtuse. I just don't want her to think she should hop into bed with every guy who comes along."

  Carrie felt steam coming out of her ears. "Is that what you think about me?"

  He frowned. "No! No, of course not. You don't do that." He paused. "Do you?"

  "I'm leaving." Carrie tossed the covers off. "Crap. I left my clothes in the kitchen."

  "I'll go get—"

  "No!" She held up her hand. She didn't want to look at him.

  She wanted to kill him.

  "Carrie-da, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

  "I know what you meant, Zack. I just want to go, right now. Besides, poor Ellie’s probably peed all over the floor I washed yesterday and God only knows what else she’s done. I need to take her for a walk." She got up, dragging the sheets with her, wearing them like a toga, and stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She wanted to kill him. But did she want to leave him forever? Especially now, when they were together again for the first time in years?

  She turned to look at him. He stood watching her, a worried frown creasing his face. He was only looking out for Samantha in the best way he knew how, she realized. Always the hero. Older now, but still her Zack. She'd spent her entire adult life looking for and never coming close to finding a man just like him…and now, she was thinking about walking out on him because of a few words? Hypocritical and contradictory, they were uttered out of love for the child he'd called his own. And she was ready to leave him?

  Was she crazy? Stupid?

  No. She was neither. She was here. To stay. Carrie pushed herself away from the door and moved toward him. "You'll come for dinner tonight, Zack? At my house? We'll talk. I think…if you'll still have me…I think I might be moving back to Rhode Island."

  His furrowed brows rose and his frown turned into a wide, white smile so bright it filled the room with happiness. Carrie shivered with joy. God, I love him.

  "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He held out his arms. "You forgive me?"

  Carrie moved into his embrace. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I've got nothing to forgive. I love you, Zack Mahoney."

  They kissed, long, deep and loving, until he broke away. "We'd better stop before I throw you back into that bed."

  "I wish." She pressed her hand to his chest. His heart thrummed beneath it. Zack Mahoney, I've got your heart in my hand.

  "I can't wait to make you my wife," he said. "Once I do, I promise—I'll never let you go again."

  "You'd better not, Zack." Carrie rose on tiptoe to brush a kiss over his mouth. "I'll see you tonight."

  "I'll be counting the seconds." He smiled.

  Carrie slipped out of his arms and down to the kitchen to get her clothes.

  Chapter Nine

  When Carrie got home that morning, Ellie met her at the door, wagging her tail. Her plastic après-surgery cone lay shredded in the center of the foyer, but no other damage met Carrie's eyes. She even walked through the house, checking in each room for ripped clothing, torn bedding, destroyed plaster and light fixtures, or half-eaten furniture. Nothing. Not even a pile of poop. Pretty amazing, considering she'd left the dog alone for twelve hours.

  Still, she felt guilty. She gave Ellie a big bowl of kibble and a dish of fresh water. While the dog ate, Carrie took a shower and thought about where to take her for a walk. Someplace close, where Ellie could run off her energy and she could make plans for moving back to Rhode Island. Back home.

  "I'll take you to the beach," she told El Beast, who walked sedately at the end of her leash and jumped into the van without one tug. Something had changed, Carrie thought, something that made her more of a pack leader and less of a tug toy.

  Zack. It had to be Zack.

  The dog settled between the driver's and passenger's seats, peering over the dashboard. Carrie stroked the dog's head as she drove. "I don't dare walk you in the neighborhood. I think I'd get lynched. Our neighbors hate you," she said. I used to hate you. But I don't anymore.

  "If it wasn't for you," she told the dog, "I wouldn't have found Zack again."

  Wuff. Wuff, wuff, wuff, Ellie huffed softly.

  I'm talking to a dog, Carrie thought. And she's talking back. "I feel like I'm trapped in a Disney film. The next thing you know, I'll burst into song and clean up after gold-mining dwarves. All we need is a villain."

  Ellie gave Carrie a doggie smile, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. Carrie laughed. "It doesn't matter if you're a dog. You're a good listener."

  Ellie tilted her head and studied her with big, cinnamon-brown eyes so very much like Nana's. Carrie could read a question there. Well? What happened? Where were you? You left me all alone. Bad human. Baaaaad girl. "I'm sorry that I was out all night. But I was with Zack. I had to be. We had—we needed to—we're together, and this time, it's forever. I'm so happy, El. So very, very happy, for the first time in years." She scratched behind the dog's ear with one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other. "I think…I think everything's going to be all right between Zack and me... I mean, I know it's crazy. We haven't talked in eighteen years. But you know how it is when you just click with someone? It doesn't matter how long it's been since you've seen them. You talk to them as if you saw them yesterday."

  It was true. They'd talked, they'd laughed, they made love—all as if the years were hours and the changes time had made to their bodies only made them more compatible. Love, like wine, got better with age. Richer, more flavorful. And more heady. She and Zack no longer held the eager haste of youth or the shyness of adolescence. Instead, they'd spent long, leisurely hours exploring, anticipating and enjoying each other as they never had when young. They'd become drunk—on each other.

  "Ellie, I'm in love." Carrie sighed. "This must be a Disney movie. Everything's got a rosy glow."

  "Jaaaaack?" The dog yawned and wagged her tail.

  Carrie frowned. I didn't just hear Ellie say Zack. Did I?

  No. Of course not. It was just her imagination. She'd been Disnified. Or, at least, Zacked. Everything she saw reminded her of him, so why wouldn't everything she heard be that way, too? She was just obsessed with him. He was the love of her life, her past and her future. No matter what happened, Carrie decided, she and Zack Mahoney would never part again.

  She pulled into the town beach parking lot. A few early morning beachgoers were already there, mostly locals and a few tourists eager for the Rhode Island shore. But if they hurried, she knew, she and Ellie could be on and off the beach in no time and no one would be the wiser. Besides, she thought, sleeping with the officer in charge of the town's animal control had to have its perks. She grinned to herself and led Ellie onto the sand.

  The dog continued to walk calmly behind her, stopping only to lift her nose to the wind in doggie appreciation. Carrie too inhaled the salty air. She'd missed the Atlantic Ocean. She'd missed home. And…Zack.

  "Oh, for crying out loud," she said. "Let's run, Ellie. I can't stand it. I keep thinking of him."

  "Arf!" Ellie said and sprang off, tugging Carrie along behind her. But she didn't drag. Instead, she encouraged. Together, they raced along the water's edge, playing tag with the waves and leaping at the gulls sailing just out of reach on the sea wind. I'm so happy, I could soar with them. Carrie threw out her arms to embrace the day—and the rest of her life with the hero of her dreams.

  *****

  "I'm pooped, Ellie," she said later. She lay on the sand, her head pillowed on her dog's side, inhaling the warm, dusty odor of canine. Ellie posed, Sphinx-like, watching the beach. Carrie closed her eyes. She was exhausted. I'm young at heart, she thought, but the rest of my body is on a different clock.

  The wind
whistled overhead, gulls screed, the waves crashed and shushed her into a doze.

  Then, beneath her cheek, Ellie shifted. Carrie heard a low, rumbling growl; it grew louder and deeper, vibrating against her skin. She lifted her head and squinted, shading her eyes with her hand to see the silhouette of a man jogging down the beach toward them. Was it him?

  Not Zack, she thought. Of course not. Ellie wouldn't growl at Zack. "It's okay, El. Shh." She dropped her face to the dog's fur again. But the low rumbling continued, growing louder and louder, until Carrie pushed herself upright to see what the problem was.

  As the man got closer, she could see his features. Less defined, slightly florid…like a yearbook picture taken out of focus.

  Mike O'Hare.

  Her heart began to pound. Please, don't see me. Don't recognize me. Don't, don't, don't… The urge to run filled her head. The urge to vomit filled her throat.

  Ellie sat up, then stood. Between her shoulder blades and at the base of her stiffly wagging tail, her fur stood straight, like a wiry gray Mohawk. Her growl was very loud now, a fierce warning to the man who continued to approach.

  He was huge, Carrie realized. He'd always been big, with broad shoulders and strong thighs and arms, but now a beer belly rode roundly over the top of his sweatpants.

  The only thing that hadn't increased was his hair. He now sported a slick comb-over that didn't begin to hide his receding hairline or the bald spot cruising over the center of his scalp. Too bad Ellie couldn't spare some fur.

  "Good morning," he called, sounding jovial. "I just wanted to tell you—there are no dogs allowed on the beach this time of year."

  "Okay," she answered and stood, ducking her head, hoping he didn't try to see her face. She even turned away from him. "Come on, Ellie. Let's go." She could feel Mike's gaze glued to her rear as she bent to pick the leash out of the sand, but she wouldn't let him see her face. She didn't want him to ruin her perfect day. "I'm sorry. We'll just—"

  "Wait a minute." He still sounded jovial.

  Carrie winced. Maybe he won't recognize me through my sunglasses. Maybe…

 

‹ Prev