Chapter 461 - The Night I (R)

Chapter 461: Chapter 461 - The Night I (R)

She raised the card to the lock. The light flashed green. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

What the hell was she doing?

Her pulse hammered in her ears, and her hands trembled as she let the door swing wider. The hallway had been quiet, but suddenly the room felt too small.

She had told herself she would walk in alone, shut the door, and deal with the rest of it in the morning when her head was clear. Instead, Zac followed her inside and shut the door behind them. The lock clicked.

She lingered near the door, listening to the faint music drifting up from downstairs. Karen was probably still with Angela, trading looks about Mason and wondering where the hell Roxie had gone. The thought almost made her turn around and tell him to get out.

This was bad.

Ten years. They had managed ten years without ending up alone together in a bedroom, and she had ruined that record in less than a minute. Fantastic.

Before she could move, his hands were on her waist. He walked her backward until her shoulders met the wall beside the bathroom door. Her eyes locked on his. Those familiar dark blue eyes stared back, leaving her momentarily speechless. His lashes lowered as he looked at her mouth.

She knew that look. He used to give her the same one whenever he thought he had already won an argument. Apparently, ten years had done nothing for his ego.

"You got nothing to say now?"

Her chest rose and fell with each uneven breath. Her nipples were stiff under the dress. This time, when his gaze dropped, she didn’t tell him to look at her face. Her breasts had filled out over the years, and she knew they looked good in this dress.

His hand rose to trace the underside of her breast, making her bite her lip.

His thumb dragged down and brushed across one. Her knees buckled. He caught her before she could fall and did it again, more slowly.

His voice dropped. "It’s hard."

No shit, Sherlock. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so of course it showed through the fabric.

She wanted to moan as she watched his hand cup her right breast. His hand was large and veiny, and the sight of it against her made her feel as though she were losing her mind. Yet when she looked up, he seemed far too composed, and it pissed her off.

"Take your hands off me, you creep."

Zac smirked. "Then stop me. Use your hands." He leaned in until his mouth was an inch from hers. "Push me away."

She turned her face away. The second he pinched her, a moan escaped before she could stop it. She was sensitive there, and he knew it. His lips closed around her earlobe while both hands moved over her breasts through the fabric, his thumbs circling before pinching again until her hips jerked.

He lifted her chin. "You can’t. ’Cause you want this."

"Shut up," she sneered.

He tipped her face up anyway. His mouth met hers, and Roxie grabbed his shirt in both fists. For a moment, she remained rigid, furious with him and with herself for letting things get this far. Then she yanked him closer and kissed him back.

Fuck it.

His tongue pushed into her mouth and she moaned around it. His thigh pushed between hers, and her legs parted without thinking. She felt how hard he already was through his pants, making her stomach flip. The pressure of his cock against her made her wet.

His thigh pressed against her clit, making her feel trapped against the wall.

She hated it. She had spent most of the trip reminding herself why she was still angry with him, yet now her hips shifted against him before she could stop herself.

Trust Zac to make her forget an entire decade of perfectly valid reasons to be furious with him. She broke the kiss long enough to get the words out.

"This doesn’t change anything."

"Shut up," he said against her mouth.

The words hit a nerve. She made an angry sound into the kiss and struck his shoulder. How fucking dare he tell her to shut up?

He caught both her wrists above her head with one hand and yanked the zipper of her dress down with the other. The dress loosened.

Shit.

Her hands went still in his grasp.

Was she really going to let him do this, or was it already too late to back out?

She could easily pull away. His hold was loose enough. Somehow, she thought it would be easier if he held her tighter, if he made the choice for her and gave her none.

The dress loosened around her shoulders, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel his gaze on her body. Part of her wanted to look at his face and see his reaction for herself.

For a moment, the silence was deafening.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" she snapped.

He chuckled.

He released her wrists just long enough to slide the dress straps from her shoulders and pull the loosened fabric beneath her breasts. Cool air hit her skin. His mouth closed over one nipple, hot and wet, teeth scraping the tip before his tongue flattened and dragged across it.

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Mmmm."

She tried to swallow the sound when he bit down again, gentler this time, then harder.

One hand stayed on her other breast, his thumb rubbing circles while his mouth worked. He sucked hard enough that she felt the pull deep in her stomach. Her thighs pressed together. She was already wet, and every time he flicked his tongue, the ache between her legs got worse.

She grabbed his hair and yanked. He answered by biting the underside of her breast, then moved back to the nipple and sucked it deep into his mouth. His free hand pinched the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers while he kept the suction steady.

Her back arched off the wall.

She could hear the wet sounds of his mouth against her skin whenever he switched sides. He dragged his tongue slowly across the left one, then closed his teeth around it and tugged.

"Fuck," she breathed.

She looked down, and their eyes met. The sight of him crouched there, his mouth full of her, made her head spin.

She had dreamed of this before. Alright, maybe more than once.

She could still remember the way he used to glance up at her, waiting for a reaction, always looking far too pleased with himself when he got one. Some habits apparently survived a ten-year separation.

The real thing was worse. His tongue kept moving, licking and circling while his fingers kept the other nipple tight and sensitive. Every time he sucked, her clit throbbed. She rocked against nothing, her hips shifting as she tried to stay quiet and failed.

He pushed her breasts together with both hands and took both nipples into his mouth at once, sucking hard.

"Zac..."

The pressure was too much. Her whole body shivered. She felt the heat building low in her stomach, tight and sharp, and she tried to pull his hair again, but her hand could only hold on. He bit down on one while his tongue worked the other, and the sharp sting mixed with the wet heat made her thighs shake.

She arched hard against him. The orgasm hit fast once it started, rolling through her in tight pulses while he stayed on her, sucking and biting through it. Her knees almost gave out. She moaned loudly, unable to stop herself, her fingers tight in his hair as her body kept clenching around nothing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It felt so good. She had never managed to get herself off from just her nipples alone.

The aftershocks continued rolling through her while he licked more slowly, soothing the sensitive skin, his hands still holding her breasts up to his mouth.

He straightened and brought her upright against him. Before she could collect her thoughts, he lifted her away from the wall, carried her across the room, and dropped her onto the bed. She stayed where he had left her, her body feeling boneless, as though she weren’t fully inside it.

He unbuttoned his shirt while she watched. His body had changed. Years of football had given him the kind of build she had only seen on statues.

His neck was thicker, his shoulders broader, and her eyes traveled down to the tattoo on his chest. His pecs were bigger, too, and memories of the attention she used to give them made her wetter. The tattoo made him look even more dangerous. And yet she could still remember the boy who used to grin whenever he caught her staring.

He shrugged off his shirt and stepped closer, placing one knee on the mattress. Her eyes went straight to the tent in his slacks. It was big. Intimidating. She wondered if his size had changed, too. Her legs pressed together, remembering how good he used to fuck her with that cock.

"Take it out."

She froze and looked up at him.

There it was again, that maddening confidence. He had always known exactly how to provoke her, and even after all these years, he still expected her to rise to it.

Zac didn’t move. He stayed with one knee on the mattress, watching her. The only sound in the room was their breathing, and it seemed unbearably loud. She heard each of her shaky inhales alongside his slower, steadier breaths.

The longer he waited, the harder it became to keep her hands from shaking. He knew how stubborn she could be. She wondered whether he remembered how fiercely they used to argue, right down to their last one.

Her mind screamed at her to stop, to shove him back, to get up and remember every reason she was supposed to stay angry.

Yet her fingers reached for his belt. The buckle clicked when she undid it, sharp in the quiet, and her stomach twisted. She got the button open next, then the zipper, but her hands hesitated at the waistband of his boxers.

She paused at the outline pressing against his boxers.

He took her wrist and guided her hand inside. Her fingers slid down and closed around him. They groaned at the same time. He was hot, hard, and thicker than she remembered, already wet at the tip and trapped against the fabric.

Her gaze dropped to her hand inside his boxers. She couldn’t see much, but she could feel the movement when her grip tightened without her meaning to.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She pulled him free, and her breath caught.

It was heavy in her palm, long and thick, the head already slick under her thumb. She stared a second too long before looking away, heat crawling up her neck. She hated that she had been staring at all.

Zac gave a low chuckle. "Shy now? Don’t act like you haven’t had this in your mouth before."

She shot him a glare.

What the hell was his problem?

The same irritating mouth. She had spent years thinking distance might have made her exaggerate how insufferable he was. Apparently, she had been generous.

Before she could snap back, he moved. He shifted between her legs, pushing them apart with his body, and the second his hand settled on her thigh she felt herself get wetter. She was too wet. The realization suddenly made her ashamed. The worst part was that he looked as if he knew precisely what she was thinking. She would have plenty to say about that once she could form a coherent argument.

She scrambled to sit up, but his other hand pinned her waist to the bed.

"Acting like you don’t want this is late, isn’t it?"