“I think we did.” Despite my lingering annoyance with him, I grin. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me,” I say, batting my eyes and sliding out of the car before he can make a move to kiss me.
Yes, I’m making him work for it.
Chapter Six
Zach
There’s no way out. Unless I want that bastard to forget what he did to my sister and live a guilt-free life, I have to go through with the plan.
I’ve stalled long enough. I didn’t even push Chloe for sex right away because I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with her, knowing what I planned. So I put it off. And when we finally did? Spontaneous and f**king incredible. I’ve never felt anything like her clasping me in her wet heat. Warm, welcoming, like f**king home.
But the plan always lingers. I could have videotaped her the first time, but even I’m not that much of a dick. I wanted her to have some decent memories, not betray her right away. Afterward, I put off installing cameras, but the joke’s on me. The more time we spend together, the more I like her.
The more I’m drawn to her.
The more I want to be the man who is protecting her for the right reasons.
And the more I want to be someone she can look at with love and trust in those baby blues. The last month with Chloe has been what I would want out of life if I had the luxury of choosing. Even living in my grandfather’s old house hasn’t been bad — because she’s been there with me so often.
But weekly visits with my sister remind me of what must be done. So I had a friend who owes me a favor install video cameras in my bedroom. Various angles. High-tech.
But I don’t know if I can go through with using her, with turning the video over to someone who will make sure it goes viral fast. Because in Chloe’s eyes, I see the man I want to be. The man I could have been for her if that bastard hadn’t destroyed my sister.
Of course, if he hadn’t, then I wouldn’t ever have met her, because nothing about us wasn’t planned. Except for my feelings. I think I love the girl. Which explains why last night, I almost called my friend and had him pull the cameras, which will turn on when we walk into the bedroom. Then Ferro showed up at the bar, and all the suppressed anger and hatred resurfaced.
So the cameras are in place. They’ll do their job.
Will I have the courage to do mine?
Chapter Seven
Flowers arrive at my dorm room the next morning. I open the card, read it, and grin. “Let me make it up to you.” A few minutes later, another deliveryman arrives, this one with a chocolate tree. Seriously. Mini chocolate bars in the shape of a tree. The man is seriously trying to apologize. I’ve already forgiven him. I’d mentally done it last night, but that didn’t mean I planned to make myself look easy.
I pick up my phone, about to text him when it buzzes in my hand. I glance down. “I need to see you.”
I hold the phone against my chest and sigh. Am I in over my head with this guy? I want to see him so badly. It’s like the one night apart is already ripping my heart out of my chest. How could I fall for him so hard, so fast? Granted, he’s stepped up the actual time frame by being with me. All. The. Time.
I blow out a deep breath. The phone buzzes again. “Now,” I read.
I text back: “Okay.”
“Waiting downstairs. Pack a bag.”
I shake my head, yet I do as he says, including textbooks so I can study. Soon I’m running down the dorm steps and out into the summer heat. Sure enough, his black truck is idling out front. My heart picks up speed as he meets me around the passenger side of the car and opens the door.
“We cool?” he asks before shutting my door.
I meet his gaze and see the apology in his eyes. “We’re cool.”
He blows out a long breath before leaning over and brushing a lingering kiss on my lips. Already I’m heating up for him, and I’m glad he made the extra effort to apologize. It tells me he understood how upset I was last night. It’s more than anyone’s ever done in acknowledgment of my feelings. He’s always so much more.
When he pulls up to his small house, I feel an overwhelming sense of belonging and home. Kinda scary given my earlier thoughts about how fast and intense this relationship is becoming.
Once inside, instead of settling in front of the television, he’s pacing by the big bay window overlooking the front lawn. “What’s wrong?”
He folds his arms across his chest, and my gaze is drawn to the muscles bulging from the edge of the sleeves. He doesn’t answer for so long I wonder if he will. “This thing between us. It’s more than I expected.”
Eerily, he’s reading my mind, paralleling my emotions and feelings. “Yeah. I was just thinking that myself.”
He tips his head to one side, studying me. “I don’t know what the f**k I’m doing,” he says.
The vulnerability in the admission surprises me, and I’m melting for his aching sweetness. I walk over and pull his arms down so I can clasp his hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, if that helps. I think we’re both feeling our way through new territory here.”
“I’m just … I’m not sure I can do this,” he mutters.
My stomach plummets hard. “Then why the flowers? The chocolates? The I need to see you?” What am I doing here? I wonder.
He spins around and pins me with that steely gaze filled with desire. “You make me crazy.” He stalks over and scoops me into his arms and heads toward the steps leading to the small bedroom upstairs.
“You can’t do this hot-cold thing,” I say, my fingers already in his hair. My br**sts are heavy, and desire is filling me, making me ache.
“I won’t,” he says with certainty. “It’s over. Done. I’m yours.” He tosses me onto the bed and comes down over me.
He’s hungry. Starving for me, and he makes it clear by kissing me senseless. There’s nothing gentle about him, and I don’t care. I don’t need gentle. I do need him, and despite his angst, he’s just given exactly that, and I can’t help but respond.
We are both greedy, lifting and peeling off each other’s clothing, lips wherever we can reach. Soon we’re both naked, and heaven descends on me in the form of his warm, hot body covering mine. He kisses my lips, my cheek, suckles on my earlobes, grazes his teeth against my neck.
It’s not enough. Not for me and not for him.
All the while, I’m arching against him, tugging at his hair, begging him to keep going, to stop and fill me, to touch me, f**k me, anything and everything he wants to do with me and to me, it’s okay. He’s mine and I’m his.