by Maisey Yates
No one had seen her naked, not since she was in diapers. She didn’t even change in public locker rooms. She would hide in bathroom stalls, needing the coverage of four walls and a door. And Zack wanted.
“Please.”
“Let me see you first.” Her eyes met his and she drew in an unsteady breath. “It’s me, Clara.”
“I know,” she said.
“When you’re ready.”
She took a breath and turned away from him, catching the zipper and tugging it down the rest of the way, letting her dress fall to the floor. Zack moved behind her, his arm curving around her, his palm pressed flat against her stomach.
He swept her hair to the side and pressed a kiss to her neck. “As I said. Perfection.”
He turned her slowly, keeping his arms around her, holding her against him, his hard body acting as a shield. Cocooned in his arms, she didn’t feel quite so naked.
She looked at his eyes, so familiar, yet different at the same time. Zack’s eyes, filled with a kind of raw lust she’d never had directed at her before. Not by him, not by any man. The enormity of the moment hit her then. She was about to be with Zack. About to make love to him.
She started shaking then, her hands, her entire body, from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m okay.”
“Why are you shaking?” She couldn’t answer. “Be honest,” he said.
“Because it’s you.”
He tilted his head to the side and kissed her. She closed her eyes determined to do nothing more than luxuriate in the moment. The heat of his mouth, the slide of his tongue. She was going to believe, in this moment, that she could be the woman he wanted.
He reached around and unhooked her bra. He pulled back from her for a moment so he could remove it the rest of the way, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. “I said you were perfection, but I didn’t know just how true that was.”
A hot flush spread over her entire body, heating her. Embarrassment battling with desire.
He cupped her breasts, sliding his thumbs over her nipples. And that was when desire won. She shook with pleasure, her stomach tightening, her internal muscles pulsing, her body ready, demanding, more of him. Demanding climax. She was close to finding it, with just the touch of his hands. Maybe it was because in her mind she had found pleasure with him so many times, in reality, it was effortless to get close to the peak.
A hoarse sound caught in her throat and she felt herself go over the edge. She gripped his forearms, her fingernails digging into his flesh. As soon as the numbing pleasure washed away, embarrassment crashed in on her. She couldn’t believe she’d come so quickly. Telling in so many ways. She hadn’t realized just how impossible it would be to keep secrets when they were like this, hadn’t realized just how intimate it would be.
“I …” She looked at his face, and his expression stole the words from her lips. A look of pure masculine satisfaction, combined with total arousal. The embarrassment dissolved. She reached forward and put her hands on his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling his belt from the loops.
He pulled her to him again, kissing her like a starving man. She reached between them and undid the closure on his pants, pushing them down his hips, along with his underwear. She felt his bare flesh against her for the first time, so impossibly hot and hard.
She wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed. She wasn’t sure why, only that she wanted to. That she wanted to touch him, taste him, everywhere. To make him feel half of what he’d made her feel.
So this would be about him, a little bit. But mostly, she was just going to enjoy having the man she’d dreamed of having for so long, completely available to her. For tonight, he was hers.
He put his hand on her thigh and pulled her leg up over his hip. She held on to his shoulders and he curled his fingers around her other thigh, lifting her off the ground and walking her to the bed, up the step, laying her down on the soft mattress, his body over hers, making her feel small. Feminine. Beautiful.
He dipped his head and slid the tip of his tongue around the edge of one of her nipples. She arched into him and he sucked the tip into his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You’re so sensitive there,” he said, his voice sounding different, strained. “I love it.”
“I like it, too,” she said. It was the first time she’d ever really liked her body.
He tugged her panties down her thighs and she helped kick them off of the bed. “I stand by what I said earlier. Perfection.” He kissed her ribs, just beneath her breasts, down to her belly button. “Designed to take pleasure. For me to give you pleasure. Exquisite.” He moved lower, his lips teasing the tender skin. He parted her thighs and slid his tongue over her clitoris. White heat shot through her body, a deep, intense pleasure tightening her muscles. She gripped the sheets, trying to hold herself to the bed.
He slid one finger inside her and she thought she might explode. Then another finger joined the first and a slight stinging sensation cut through the pleasure. She held her breath for a moment and waited for it to fade. It would. She knew it would. And all the better if he took care of it this way.
He worked his fingers in and out of her body, each time, the discomfort lessened. And he didn’t seem to notice. Which was fine by her.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he said, his voice rough, broken.
“I don’t think I can wait, either.”
He moved up so that the head of his erection was testing the entrance to her body, his arms bracketing hers, his biceps trembling slightly. He was as undone as she was. It was such a wonderful, incredible feeling. It made her truly believe that she was beautiful.
He pushed into her partway then pulled out completely, swearing sharply.
“What?” she asked, hoping it had nothing to do with her virginity. Because she couldn’t stop. Not now.
“Condoms,” he said, his hands unsteady as he opened the drawer to the bedside table. He opened the box and pulled out a packet, getting the condom out and rolling it on to his length quickly.
“Oh. Good.” She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. She should have. But there were so many things filling her head. So many emotions. She’d almost forgotten the most important thing.
Then he was back, poised over her, ready to enter her.
He slid back in as far as he’d already been, then pressed in the rest of the way. It was tight, but it wasn’t painful, the evidence of her virginity likely dealt with earlier.
He flexed his hips, his pelvis pressing against her clitoris at exactly the right angle, the sensation of him being inside her as her muscles clenched tight around him so incredible she couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure from escaping her lips.
She gripped his tight, muscular butt, so much more perfect than she’d even imagined. Everything so much more perfect than she’d imagined.
She wrapped her legs around his calves and held him to her, moving in rhythm with his thrusts, the pleasure building low in her stomach, emotion swelling in her chest, threatening to overflow. It came to a head, pushing her until she was certain that unless she found release, she would break apart into tiny little pieces beneath the weight of the pressure inside of her.
Then she was falling apart, splintering, release, pleasure, love, pouring through the cracks, filling her, washing through her. She dug her fingernails into his back, squeezing her eyes closed tight. She didn’t even try to stop the sharp cry that was climbing her throat, couldn’t feel embarrassed that she was arching and moving against him with no control at all.
Because he was right with her, his entire body trembling, his fist gripping the comforter by her head, a low, intense growl rumbling in his chest as he found his own release.
He lay above her, his breathing harsh, his heart pounding so hard she could hear it. And she was pretty sure he could hear hers, too.
“Wow,” she said.
He moved to the side, withdrawing from her body, one arm resting on her body. He was watching her closely, like he wanted to ask her something. Or like he thought he should but didn’t want to.
“You’ve never been careful about what you said to me before,” she said. “Don’t start now.”
He huffed a laugh. “Clara …”
“Actually I changed my mind,” she said. “We have one night. Why talk about anything?”
Something in his expression changed, hardened. “I think that’s a good idea.” He rolled to his side and stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He went into the bathroom and came back out a moment later.
“What do you propose we do, if we aren’t going to talk?”
She got up on her knees and went to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck, uncharacteristic boldness surging through her. “I’m sure we can think of a few things.”
This was her night to have all of the man she loved. And she wasn’t going to miss out on a single experience.
Morning came too quickly, light breaking through the gauzy curtain that surrounded the bed, bringing reality in with the sunbeams.
She didn’t want the night to end. She didn’t want to face reality. She’d felt like a princess last night; beautiful, desired. She’d felt like her dream was in her grasp. And this morning she felt like she’d turned back into a pumpkin. Reality sucked.
She looked at the man sleeping next to her, the only man she’d ever really wanted. The only man she’d ever loved.
And today, she would have to get up and forget that last night had happened. She would have to consign it to the “perfect memories” bin along with other things she pulled out when she was feeling lonely, or when things weren’t going well.
The thought made her whole body hurt.
“I arranged to have the plane leave in an hour or so,” he said, his eyes still closed.
“Okay,” she said, swallowing thickly and sliding out of the bed, clutching the sheet tightly to her breasts, desperate to cover herself now, in the light of day. It was one thing to feel sexy, to be all right with her nudity when he was looking at her like he was starving and she was a delicacy. A lot less easy when he seemed … uninterested.
“I’m going to take a shower real quick.”
He made a noise that might have been a form of consent, but she didn’t ask for confirmation before beating a hasty retreat to the bathroom. She turned the water on and sat on the closed toilet lid, letting the tears fall down her cheeks, hoping the sound of the water hitting the tile would drown out the sound of her sobs.
Zack sat up, a curse on his lips. Last night … last night had been an aberration. A hot, amazing aberration, maybe, but it could never happen again. He had been careless. He’d nearly forgotten to use a condom. And she’d been a virgin.
If he’d thought about it, if he’d thought at all, he would have guessed that. He knew her well enough to have picked up on how nervous she was, to understand what that meant. He also knew her well enough to know she wasn’t really a one-night-stand woman. She was sensitive, emotional. Sweet.
His stomach twisted, nausea overtaking him, spreading through his limbs. She probably wasn’t on birth control, and there was a possibility that in that moment, when he’d been inside of her without protection, that he’d made a very big mistake.
No, he knew he’d made a mistake. He hit his fist on the top of the nightstand and stood, stalking through the room collecting his clothes. Had he learned nothing? Was he as stupid now as he’d been fourteen years ago?
His heart froze for a moment, the events of what sometimes felt like a past life, playing through his head from start to finish. Like a horror film he couldn’t pause.
No. He’d worked way too hard to leave that person behind. That boy, who had been so irresponsible. Who had caused so much damage.
Last night he’d lost control. With Clara, of all people. She shouldn’t have tempted him like that. But she had. She’d made him shake like he was the virgin.
It couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t. He might have lost his control for a moment, but he wouldn’t do it again.
Clara appeared a few moments later, her face scrubbed fresh and pink, her hair wet and wavy. She was dressed, a fitted T-shirt and jeans meaningless now since he’d already seen her naked and his mind was doing a very good job of envisioning her as she’d been last night.
All pale skin and soft curves. Pure perfection. Better than he’d ever imagined.
“Hey,” she said, trying to smile and not quite managing it.
“Are you all right?” he asked. He’d never slept with a virgin before, but that was only part of the foreign, first-time feeling he was dealing with. The other part of that was because it was Clara. And the rest was because of his carelessness.
Carelessness that had to be addressed.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes. “No.”
He tried to get a handle on the gnawing panic in his gut. Condoms were reliable. He knew that. But there was the matter of his impatience, of his entering her, even briefly, without protection. He swore. “Why not?”
“What?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to start taking the pill just in case you invited me on your honeymoon and we hooked up? I was a virgin, you jackass.”
“I know,” he shouted, not sure why he was shouting, only that his blood was pumping too fast through his veins and his heart was threatening to thunder out of his chest. “I know,” he said again, softer this time.
“You used a condom,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Yes, I did, eventually. There’s a chance that kind of carelessness could have gotten you pregnant. It’s not a big chance, but there is a chance.”
“I … I seriously doubt that I’m pregnant. Well, obviously I’m not pregnant yet since things take a while to travel and … well, that’s high-school health, you know all that.”
“But there’s a chance. I’m usually more careful.”
“Zack, I think you’re overreacting.”
“Is that what you think, Clara?” he asked, his voice deadly calm. “You think I’m overreacting because you think it can’t happen. But then, you’ve never been pregnant, obviously. And I have gotten a woman pregnant, so I think I might be a bit more in touch with that reality than you are. Do you know what it’s like? To know that everything in your life is going to have to change because for one moment you were so utterly selfish and consumed with one moment of pleasure that you didn’t think about anything else?”
Clara’s heart was in her throat. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was like a shield had been torn away from Zack, like his armor had dissolved, crumbled around his feet, leaving nothing but the man he was beneath his facade. A facade she hadn’t realized was there.
This was the man she’d seen glimpses of. The reason for the darkness that she saw in his eyes sometimes. And she was afraid to hear the rest. But she had to.
His chest rose and fell sharply. “I was sixteen. And I was more interested in getting some than thinking about using a condom. Turns out you can get someone pregnant after just one time, regardless of the idiot rumors floating around the high school saying otherwise.”
She didn’t ask him what happened. She didn’t interrupt the break. She just let his silence fill the room, and she felt his pain. Felt it in her, through her. She didn’t have to know what happened to know that it was bad. Devastating. To know that knowing it was going to change her. The way it had changed Zack.
“I didn’t want a baby, but we were having one. She wanted it. I didn’t want him,” he said. “But I got a job so that I could pay for the doctor bills. So I could help her raise him. Because at least I knew that I should do the right thing.” A muscle in his jaw jerked. “He came too early. And by the time I realized how badly I did want him, it was t
oo late. By the time I realized that a baby can very quickly mean everything in the world to you, he was gone.”
She tried to hold back the sob that was rising inside her. His face was blank now, void of emotion, flat. Like he was reading a story in a newspaper, not telling her about his life.
“Another reason Hannah was so perfect for me,” he said. “She didn’t want kids.”
“You don’t. You don’t want kids?”
“I had one, Clara. I would never … I will never put myself through something like that again. I nearly died with him. I don’t make the same mistakes twice. I’m always careful now.”
Except last night, he wasn’t as careful as he usually was, obviously. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Or what it might mean. And right now, she wished they had never slept together. Because she wanted to comfort him as a friend. To tell him how much her heart ached for him. But she wasn’t sure if it was her place now. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. What he expected. What he would allow.
Because now she saw just how much he had always hidden from her. She saw a stranger. She wondered if it was even possible that this man, hard and angry, was the same man she’d seen every day for the past seven years.
“How did you … how did you cope with it?”
“I don’t need to talk about it, Clara. I don’t talk about it, ever. This isn’t an invitation for you to psychoanalyze me. But now you know why I insist on being careful. That’s the important part of the story. And you’ll tell me, if you’re pregnant.”
“I’ll let you know,” she said. “But I’m sure everything will be fine.”
He turned away from her and shrugged his shirt on.
“Everything will be fine,” she repeated. That assurance was just for her. And she wasn’t certain she believed it.
CHAPTER EIGHT