I moaned and was grateful as hell there was no one else in the house.
That I could have him now all to myself on such an amazing day.
How could I not love him? Not want him? I’d wanted him for what seemed like chapters in my life. And now he was here, and his hands were on my hips as he sucked one spot after another along the column of my throat, convincing my nipples to go hard against his chest when I pressed myself closer to him.
That was when I felt it. The long, hard length that was trapped within his jeans, tucked up against his thigh while I flattened our bodies together.
Zac was hard. For me.
And I didn’t need to use my hand to know that he wasn’t just long, but he was thick too.
Shit.
He was hiding a monster in there, hidden along the strong but lean body of his.
I was going to climb him like a fucking tree.
Zac’s head moved as he nipped and sucked at another spot on the other side of my neck, and I dug my fingers into his hips, pushing us even closer together, earning a groan from the man. He retreated, eyes dark and almost glazed over, and I knew I wasn’t imagining the deep breathing his lungs were going through in the second before I lifted my chin up again and he kissed my lips more.
And then it was just hands.
My hands back on his upper arms, keeping him there, in front of me, close, then my hands back on his hips, holding them against my stomach as he ground his cock there. Then more hands, on my ass, then upper thighs, and he was hoisting me up. I wrapped my legs around his hips, so high up on him that the seam of my stretchy jeans was pressed against the hardest part of his lower abs as we kissed.
And made out.
And sucked and nipped at each of our mouths like the world would end if we didn’t.
I ground my hips against his stomach, arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed me and kissed me some more.
And I wouldn’t regret pulling back, breathing hard, to ask, “Is there a bed in this house?”
“The sellers left one, the headboard was too heavy to move it.” He breathed hard against my jaw before pressing that soft, wet mouth right below my ear as he answered, “I don’t wanna rush you into anything.”
He wasn’t rushing me into shit, and that’s what I tried to tell him before angling my mouth back onto his, holding his head steady so he could keep kissing me.
He must have gotten my message because he started walking, holding me in his arms, a muscular arm banded around the middle of my back and the other underneath my ass, holding me in place as I rocked my hips, sure my underwear and jeans had to be wet by then, wanting friction and him and everything.
“I love you, Zac,” I whispered against his ear when I had to pull back to catch my breath, and he hugged me even tighter to him, his face tucked against my throat as I realized he’d walked us into a small bedroom with a queen-sized bed.
He hummed into my shirt, squeezing me hard as he said in a quiet, calm voice, “You don’t even know….”
“Do you want to get naked? Because I don’t want to rush you either.”
He burst out laughing. “You’re gonna rush me?”
“Well, only if you want to. I’m sure you’ve gotta be tired.”
Zac lowered me to the ground so fast, we both cracked up. He smiled before fisting the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. I was still laughing as I did the same to mine, throwing it across the room like the further away it was, the fewer chances there were I’d have to put it back on any time soon.
“Seriously though,” I told him, pausing while undoing my pants when reason really hit me. “I know you didn’t get enough sleep, and we don’t need to do anything.”
Zac turned to me before taking a seat on the edge of the bed and scooting backward on it, shirtless and tan and so perfectly built, I didn’t understand why no one had ever put him on an underwear ad. “We can do whatever you want, darlin’. Why don’t you come here for a sec though while we think about it?”
Think about it?
I smirked and nodded.
And maybe I was jumping the gun a little by taking my pants off, but I did it anyway. It got me a little murmur from Zac that had me side eyeing him as I stood up straight. “What? I don’t wear jeans when I go to bed.”
He was sprawled on the mattress, his upper body propped on the headboard—this thick engraved thing with horses and cowboys on it that was pretty epic—his smile lazy but different as his eyes moved over me standing there in my underwear. “Come here. Come sit with me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I crawled up on the bed, totally conscious of the fact that I didn’t look like a supermodel or even a wannabe model in any way, but I didn’t care. It had taken me half an hour to get the face paint off, and I was pretty sure there were streaks around the edges, close to my hairline. I had a cute bra on and underwear that didn’t exactly match but were close enough.
But most importantly, I could see the tent in his jeans as one of his hands went
