Zack

by M. Malone

  I gape at him. “You want me to ride that?”

  “Not by yourself. With me. Have you ever ridden before?”

  “No. Gabe never takes his bike when we go out. I only asked him once and he said that he didn’t want to risk it. That he’s not used to having anyone ride with him.”

  “He was lying. I’ve ridden behind him before and we were fine. You have to understand that Gabe has more old-fashioned ideas than I do. He thinks that women should be protected. He hasn’t taken Sasha on his bike either.”

  “You don’t think women need to be protected?”

  He shrugs. “Sometimes I do. But there’s a difference between being protected and being put on a shelf. What’s the point of living life from the backseat?”

  Zack reaches behind me and picks up a helmet. It’s black with these cool blue designs running down the sides. “You’ll need this.”

  I hand him my bag which he stashes in a drawer. I finally lose my grip on my excitement and let out a little squeal.

  “This is so cool! Are you sure the owner won’t mind?”

  Zack helps me position the helmet over my hair. I had it up in a ponytail which I have to take down to get the helmet to fit.

  “I’m sure she won’t mind because I called and asked her. Usually I would take it up the street and back but I wanted to really take you for a ride.”

  I give him a saucy look. “Are we still talking about motorcycles?”

  “I am but I’ve learned not to underestimate your imagination, Miss Harlow.”

  The low timbre of his voice combined with the soft touches of his fingers against my chin as we finally get the helmet in place set my stomach tingling again. But I’m very aware that we’re not alone.

  Jim has come out from under the car he was working on. He’s brought his customer to the back to show him something under the hood. He only glances our way briefly but the man sees everything, always has. And Reed is pretending to be looking for something in his toolbox but every time I look over there, he’s watching us.

  Now I feel completely self-conscious, sure that everyone around me can read my feelings for him as surely as if they’re written all over my face.

  “Everyone is staring.”

  Zack snorts. “No, they’re not.”

  “This is weird. I feel like I’m suddenly seeing spies on every corner when any other day I would have come back here to talk to you without even thinking about it.”

  Zack hits a button and the automatic door for our bay opens. He climbs on the bike and then gestures for me to get on behind him. He shows me where to put my feet.

  “They’re only staring because we’re not fighting for once.”

  “We don’t fight that much, do we?”

  “All the time. You gave me hell.”

  “You deserved it.”

  We laugh together. This flirting thing is way more fun than arguing ever was.

  “Besides,” Zack continues. “He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have Jessica Rabbit snuggled up to him.”

  “Jessica Rabbit was a redhead,” I point out.

  “Was she?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. Believe me, I wasn’t looking at her hair.”

  “Oh, I know what you were looking at.”

  I laugh and then squeal when he starts the engine. I grab him around the waist. I would have never thought this would be a sensual experience but between the hard press of Zack’s back and the rumble between my thighs, I have an entirely new understanding of why people like motorcycles.

  “Are you ready?”

  I tap his stomach twice to let him know I’m okay. He pulls out and the wind swallows my scream.

  †

  Over the next week, we embark on a series of adventures with me taking pictures along the way. Some are thrilling, some are silly but every single one is more fun than I’ve had in ages.

  After our afternoon of motorcycle riding, the next day we went to a carnival and rode the Ferris wheel and lost money playing all those obviously rigged games. Then he took me to a gym in the neighboring city of New Haven that has a rock wall. We spent the afternoon racing to see who could climb to the top the fastest. He won every time.

  I know what he’s doing. He’s making sure I’m comfortable and that I won’t regret anything. He’s being so sweet and patient. With every one of our adventure dates, I’m more sure than ever that my heart knew what it was doing when it decided on Zack Marshall.

  Even though I appreciate his patience, the burn has increased with every hour that I’m with him. Now every touch puts me on edge. Every time he brushes against me, I’m on fire. I want him.

  And I’m ready.

  When he tells me that he wants to stay home on Friday night, I know that the time has come. There’s no man in the world who can hold out this long and frankly if he doesn’t do something tonight then I might take matters into my own hands. I’m rushing around cleaning the house, straightening things and I’ve changed my shirt several times.

  My brother is sitting at the table in the kitchen. He watches my mania with curious eyes. “Why do you keep wiping that counter? You’ve been at that same spot for the past ten minutes.”

  “This place is filthy! I’m just cleaning up.”

  Jamie looks around. “It looks fine. You weren’t this OCD when I lived at home.”

  Izzie looks over at me with knowing eyes. I told her that Zack was coming over earlier because she wanted to know if I had plans. Her usual drinking partners have done the unthinkable and all gotten boyfriends. This has put a serious dent in her partying.

  Luckily she takes pity on me. I think she can tell that I’m really nervous and on the verge of having some kind of breakdown.

  “Women get on these random cleaning binges sometimes. I do it, too when I have PMS.”

  He shakes his head. “Women are a mystery.”

  “I have an idea. James, why don’t we go to the movies? I’ll even buy the popcorn.”

  Relief sweeps through me and I give Izzie a grateful look. The thought of doing sexy things while they’re around freaks me out. What if they heard us? My brother and I are cool but there are some things that I will never feel comfortable talking about with him. I’ll be way less stressed if Zack and I have the house to ourselves.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that,” Jamie says. “That would be great. Yes, let’s do it.” He looks really excited.

  I could just hug Izzie for this. She can be pushy and brash sometimes but she’s always there for me. Entertaining my brother is way above and beyond the call of friendship. Jamie is pretty conservative and I’ve noticed that Izzie has tried to tone down her more outrageous traits while he’s around.

  Fifteen minutes later they are gone and I’m waiting in the living room having finally given up on achieving a perfectly clean kitchen. When Zack knocks on the door a few minutes later, I yank it open right away.

  He looks at me and then behind him. “Am I late?”

  “No. I was just right here. That’s all.”

  He follows me inside and I wait while he hangs his coat on the stand. Then he turns and pulls me into his arms. Our kiss quickly turns hot and I’m practically climbing him where he stands. He pulls back slightly and licks his lips.

  “Missed me, huh?”

  “Yeah. I have.” Suddenly hit with nerves after almost climbing down his throat, I lead him into the living room. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  He claps his hands. “No, I think I’m good.”

  I notice that he’s freshly shaved and he’s taken the time to change out of the T-shirt and jeans he usually wears under his coveralls at work. The jeans he’s got on now look brand new and his shirt is a button up. His hair has been buzz cut so it’s all the same length for once. It dawns on me then that he’s cleaned up for me.

  He’s nervous, too.

  “So, how was work today?” I sit on the couch and pat the cushion next to me.
<
br />   “Good. I think we’re finally caught up for once. Gabe has been doing some of the admin stuff from home now that he’s feeling better.”

  ”That’s great. I had a pretty good day, too. I’ve been editing some of the photos I took of you that first day.”

  That gets his attention. “Really? Can I see them?”

  I smile to myself. This is perfect because he’ll have to come to my room. I couldn’t have planned that better.

  “Sure. Come on. Some of them are pretty good.”

  He follows me up the stairs and into my room. I close the door behind him and he sits on the bed while I open my laptop. The photo I was working on last is still open on the screen. I bring it over to the bed and angle the screen so he can see them.

  “It’s strange to see myself this way. I’ve never really liked taking pictures.”

  “You’re extremely photogenic. I’d love to get some shots of you the next time you shave your head. The tattoos on your head paired with the Mohawk are one of my favorite looks on you.”

  He runs a hand over his short hair. “And here I’ve been growing it out thinking you’d like that better.”

  It’s the first tacit admission that he’s been trying to please me. It’s a heady feeling to know that my preference matters that much to him. Especially since he rarely cares what anyone thinks.

  I continue scrolling through the pictures, showing him all the ones from that first day and then the ones I took on our walk through the woods the day he apologized. My favorite is the one when I told him he was my first kiss. When we get to the end, there’s a new appreciation in his eyes when he looks at me.

  “I am so proud of you, Josie. These are fantastic.”

  “Thank you.” Plenty of people have told me I’m a talented photographer but it means something altogether different to hear it from Zack. Because I care what he thinks.

  “Can I see more of your work?” he asks shyly.

  “Sure, of course. I have tons of photo albums.”

  I walk into the closet and stand on tiptoe to reach the albums on the top shelf. For years, I collected photos of everything around me. Nature, people, cars. Anything and everything. I was waiting for something to inspire me. It wasn’t until I started photographing families that I felt the connection I’ve always been missing.

  The first book I pull down has shots of several of my parents’ friends with their kids. I flip through the first few pages, smiling at the images of children at play and parents sneaking a kiss while they thought no one was looking. Looking at these now, I can see all the technical mistakes I made back then. But the emotion in these pictures practically jumps from the pages.

  I wander back into the room holding the book open to one of my favorite shots. “These are some of my earliest attempts. You might remember my friend Hailey from–“

  Zack looks up from the photo album open on his lap. The album that’s usually under my bed. The one that I’ve never shown anyone.

  “Josie…” He stares at me and then glances back down at the album.

  Even upside down I can tell which picture he’s looking at. It was taken one day when we were teenagers and Gabe had the grand idea to try to pop wheelies on this old motorcycle Zack had fixed up. In the photo, Zack is watching his brother with a look of patient affection. He looks happy.

  “I look so young in this picture. When was this taken?”

  “Um, that was the summer when my parents made me take ballroom lessons so that must have been when I was about sixteen. So you would have been about nineteen.”

  The wonder in his eyes when he looks up at me takes me by surprise. “I didn’t even know you had a camera. Obviously you had a camera a lot of times when I wasn’t paying attention.”

  He’s referring to the fact the entire album is filled with pictures of him. Nothing but pictures of him. Most of them taken at times when he wasn’t even aware I was photographing him.

  It’s a little embarrassing that he’s found this. But it’s the only definitive proof of what I told him. That my feelings for him aren’t a new thing.

  “Teenage girls can be a little obsessive. It’s a good thing you didn’t find this back then. You would have gotten a restraining order.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded, even then.” He tugs on a lock of my hair. “I think that’s why I was so mean to you sometimes. Gabe took you for granted and it killed me because I always knew I couldn’t compete with him for your heart.”

  “You didn’t have to win my heart. You’ve always had it,” I whisper.

  He leans in and this time when he kisses me, he doesn’t stop.

  chapter seven

  †

  ZACK

  I would have thought that nothing could surprise me at this point in my life. I’ve gotten used to living life behind a wall. Caring about nothing and no one because it was easier than being disappointed over and over again.

  But seeing that album of pictures took me completely off guard. There was a very real fear in the back of my mind that Jo was only with me because her first choice wasn’t available. That I was some sort of consolation prize. But a simple book of pictures has convinced me of her sincerity in a way that nothing else could.

  She has an entire album of me. There’s no denying that this was a work of love done with all the intensity of a teenage crush.

  Those pictures prove that she was telling the truth. I’m first in her heart and always have been.

  As I’m kissing her, I feel my walls crumbling and all the emotion I’ve spent years hiding from seeps out. Her hair flows around us in a mass of brunette waves and I gather it in my fists, using it like an anchor to hold her close. Now that she’s here I don’t want her to ever leave me. She’s just as intense, kissing and sucking like she can’t get enough of my taste.

  I pull back only long enough to help her out of her jeans and long tunic top. When she drops her arms, she grabs me again fusing our lips in another deep kiss. Somehow I manage to get my shirt off too. We’re both taking gasping breaths between kisses, not wanting to stop long enough for anything more. I know a brief moment of frustration trying to toe my boots off when one gets stuck. Finally it pops free and lands on the floor with another loud thud.

  Somehow I manage to turn us around so she’s reclining on the bed. As she settles back I come down over her, holding up my weight on one arm while the other explores. There’s so much to touch and taste. I place a trail of soft kisses down her neck until I get to the front clasp of her bra. When I look up, Jo is watching me with wide, watchful eyes.

  “Do it, Zack. I want you to,” she whispers.

  I unclip her bra and her breasts spring free. As my lips trail down her torso, her back arches pushing her plump breasts out for me like an offering. She’s built like a dream with full, berry tipped nipples and creamy skin. As many times as I’ve imagined this, I couldn’t have imagined how sexy she actually is. I spend long moments tormenting the sharp points of one nipple before switching to give attention to the other side.

  Josie squirms beneath me. She’s rocking her hips, rubbing her pussy against me like she’s trying to get me inside. She’s so with me right now and for the first time I find myself fighting for control pretty early in the process. Usually I have way more endurance than this but it’s been a long time since I’ve teased myself with a straight week of foreplay first.

  When I bite down on the plump nipple between my lips, Jo lets out a soft, agonized cry that goes straight to my dick. I pause, to give her a chance to settle and also to make sure I don’t come in my pants.

  “You okay?”

  I raise my head to check on her. Her lips are slightly parted and her eyes are squeezed shut.

  When she opens them and sees me looking, she manages a shaky smile.

  “So okay. So incredibly okay.”

  Her enthusiastic response spins my need even higher. I’ve never been this nervous getting naked with a woman. But this is Josie. My Josie. Not only am I afraid of hu
rting her but I want her to love everything we do together. I want her to love it and want to do it again and again. The stakes have never been higher.

  I tug her panties down slowly and she lifts her hips to help me get them off. Her fingers tug my hair insistently, urging me back to her breast. I give her what she wants, more deep suctioning pulls on her nipple that have her writhing beneath me again.

  She’s so sensitive that she might even be able to come just from this but there’s so much more to touch and taste. The fragrant expanse of her skin calls to me and I continue sucking and licking all the way down the smooth expanse of her stomach. As I get lower, her soft little moans get longer and longer. When I finally scoot all the way down her legs fall open eagerly. I arrange her legs over my shoulders and get comfortable. She trembles beneath me.

  I lick her from top to bottom in one long stroke. The taste of her takes me by surprise. I swallow a groan and then go back for more. When I take her clit on my tongue she goes completely still and then shudders, a full body tremor that seems to come from her core.

  “Zack. Oh my god.” She whispers it in a reverent tone, like she can’t believe the pleasure.

  I can feel my ego inflating. Yes. This is what I want, to show her what her body is capable of and then get her addicted to the way I make her feel. So she’ll only feel this with me.

  She cries out again and again, her fingers curling desperately into the short strands of my hair, trying to find something to hold on to. Her nails scratch my scalp and I moan at the sensation. I introduce one finger, pushing into her tight, wet heat slowly, giving her time to get used to the sensation. She whimpers at the invasion but I lick her clit to distract her from where my finger is carefully stretching her.

  “Does it hurt, sweetheart? Tell me if it does.”

  Her head shakes back and forth wildly. “Don’t stop!”

  I chuckle at her insistence. “I won’t stop. Not now. Not when I know how good you feel.”