Chapter 476 - A Souveneir II(R)

Chapter 476: Chapter 476 - A Souveneir II(R)

He shifted under her.

The next lick was slower and broader, starting at her entrance and staying on her clit until her stomach tightened and her mouth fell open.

Her skirt was bunched high enough that it blocked most of her view of his face, so she had to look in the mirror to see what he was doing.

His eyes were closed and his hands had moved to her thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks as he figured the angle out.

She rolled her hips without meaning to, pressing down on his mouth.

The sound he made was half protest, half groan, low and rough, and the vibration went straight through her. Her legs were already starting to tremble as the muscles in her thighs twitched under his grip.

One of her hands left the bench so she could slide her fingers into his hair and grip hard, the strands were damp against her palm.

"Fuck," she said, lower. "Zac."

He still knew what she liked. He’d spent months learning her during their relationship, paying attention to every little reaction until he could tell what she wanted without her having to say a word.

He pulled her closer and pushed his tongue into her entrance as she rocked against his nose.

Soft, broken moans escaped her, mixing with the wet sounds of his mouth.

She tried to keep a steady rhythm, but her hips kept jerking beyond her control. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him where she wanted him.

In the mirror, she watched herself riding his face, her skirt rucked up and her thighs spread wide. She looked like she was using him, and the sight made her clench around nothing. Her thighs were shaking so badly that she had to lower herself into a crouch, struggling to keep her balance as her legs threatened to give out.

She’d probably kill him that way.

Another sound slipped out, louder this time. She didn’t care. She was getting loud, and her hips moved on their own in short, messy rolls while she watched herself in the mirror as the heat built low in her stomach and spread down her legs.

"Fuck, Zac," she said again, rougher. "That feels so good." The compliment escaped before she could stop it, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she’d made a terrible mistake.

He growled against her, and the vibration shot through her clit until she jerked and her hips stuttered. One hand left her thigh, and she felt two fingers slide through the mess on his mouth before pushing inside her, slow and deep, stretching her while his tongue stayed on her clit in steady strokes.

"Hah." She was close. This fast and she was already close.

She clenched around his fingers hard. He curled them, found the spot that made her vision blur, and started thrusting in time with his tongue until she made another open, shaky sound, still gripping his hair and still watching the mirror as her face went slack.

The wet sounds got louder. She wanted to press harder. She wanted his cock.

She leaned back, reaching down to touch him through his shorts, and Zac groaned under her. The sound vibrated through her whole body. He was so hard under her hand, hot even through the fabric.

He’d feel good inside her. Better than his fingers.

The orgasm rolled through her in tight, messy waves.

She heard herself make a broken sound and didn’t care. Her pussy clenched hard around his fingers, pulse after pulse, and she felt herself soak his mouth and chin as the heat of it spread and her thighs shook against his face.

It felt too long and too hard. Too good.

When it finally eased she was shaking, still seated on his face, breathing like she’d run sprints while the smell of sex hung thick in the air between them. Zac’s hands stayed on her, holding her there until she lifted off. His face was wet. His chest rose and fell hard.

He stared up at her, dazed. One of his hands wiped at his mouth. He looked at his fingers like he couldn’t believe what was on them.

Roxie stayed where she was for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

God, what had she just done?

She looked down at Zac, expecting him to make some arrogant comment about her reaction. Instead, he was staring at her with an expression she hadn’t seen since they were teenagers.

For once, Zac Prescott seemed to have absolutely nothing to say.

Roxie almost laughed.

Well, that was satisfying.

She carefully moved away from him and lowered her feet to the floor. Her legs felt embarrassingly unsteady, and she had to rest one hand against the bench before straightening.

Zac sat up, wiping his face with the towel he’d abandoned earlier.

"Was that good enough?" he asked.

Roxie looked at him.

"You tell me."

His mouth curved.

There it was. That irritating confidence was already returning.

"Come here."

He reached for her, and for one ridiculous moment, Roxie considered doing exactly that.

She remembered how easily she’d forgotten everything she’d been angry about. How familiar he’d felt, and how desperately she’d wanted to stay close to him.

Then she remembered Italy.

The pharmacy. The emergency contraception. The awful realization that she’d allowed herself to end up in a situation she hadn’t prepared for.

She remembered standing alone at the counter, frightened and furious with herself.

Roxie stepped away from his reaching hand.

"I’m leaving."

Zac frowned.

"What?"

"I said I’m leaving. I have work tomorrow."

He looked at her as though she’d announced something completely unreasonable.

"Right now?"

"Yes, Zac. Right now."

He glanced toward the door, then back at her.

"Roxie, are you serious?"

"Very."

She adjusted her skirt and reached for her handbag.

"I’m also staying on top of contraception before we take this any further. I’ve already had one pregnancy scare involving you, and I have absolutely no intention of repeating that experience."

Zac’s expression changed.

"What pregnancy scare?"

Roxie froze.

Oh, fuck.

She’d forgotten that he had no idea about the pharmacy.

"Nothing. I took care of it."

"Roxie."

"Zac, please. I’m tired, and I’d rather discuss this some other time."

He stared at her, clearly wanting to ask more questions.

She looked away before he could.

God, why did every conversation with this man have to become complicated?

Then she spotted the black lace lying beside the bench.

Oh.

Roxie’s mouth curved.

Well, there was still one thing she could enjoy about this evening.

She bent down, picked it up, and approached Zac.

He watched her suspiciously.

"What now?"

She placed the fabric in his hand.

"Keep those. You earned them."

Zac looked down.

Then back at her.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Roxie smiled.

"It’s called a souvenir, Prescott."

He stared at the underwear in his hand, looking genuinely offended.

"You can’t just give me your underwear and leave."

"I believe I just did."

"Roxie."

"What?"

"You’re unbelievable."

She laughed.

"Thank you. I’ve been telling you that for years."

She picked up her handbag and started toward the door.

"Roxie, we’re still talking."

"Then I suggest you call me tomorrow. Preferably when you’re wearing a shirt and prepared to have an actual conversation."

"Rox."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"What now?"

Zac was still sitting on the bench, her underwear clenched in one hand.

For a moment, he looked almost like the boy she remembered, frustrated because she was leaving before he was ready to let her go. That familiar expression made something in her chest tighten.

Then he spoke. "You’re really leaving me like this?"

Roxie raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you did say I was free to leave."

His jaw tightened.

She smiled sweetly.

"Have a lovely evening, Prescott."

And with that, she walked out.

Only when she reached the hallway did her smile finally disappear.

She’d done it.

She’d managed to leave Zac Prescott sitting in his own gym, completely frustrated, with her underwear in his hand.

Angela would probably die laughing if she ever heard about it.

Roxie almost laughed herself.

But as she approached the stairs, she realized her hands were still trembling. She’d gone there intending to discuss her career. Somehow, she’d ended up allowing herself to become intimate with the same man who’d spent the evening making her feel like she meant absolutely nothing to him.

And the worst part?

She’d enjoyed being with him.

For a few minutes, she’d forgotten his insulting proposition, their argument in Italy, and the ten years she’d spent convincing herself she was better off without him.

She’d almost stayed.

That realization frightened her considerably more than anything Zac had said that evening.

Roxie tightened her grip on her handbag and continued toward the entrance.

She’d spent the entire evening trying to prove that Zac Prescott couldn’t control her anymore.

Now she had to figure out why being near him still made her want to forget every reason she’d walked away in the first place.

And somewhere between the gym and the front door, another thought occurred to her.

The bastard still hadn’t agreed to the interview.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.