"Put me down!” she gasped. “You'll hurt yourself."
"Not likely, honey.” He strode down the hall to the bedroom. He kicked open the door, crossed the room, and tossed her on the bed, where she landed with a bounce.
Wide-eyed, dry-mouthed, she watched him lean down to turn on the lamp, and then open the drawer and pull out some condoms.
He dropped his pants and underwear quickly, kneeling beside her. He was hard again already.
To her shock, he flipped her over onto her stomach. She struggled, but he pushed her down with one hand on her back, holding her there. When she struggled more, he moved over her and pressed her into the mattress, the weight of his hard, warm body covering her.
Zach,” she protested, reluctantly thrilled by his domination.
"I know you like this,” he whispered in her ear, his penis pushing against her butt. She moaned helplessly. He knew her so well. The only other time they'd done this was at Klub Kink, and the memory caused a flood of warmth and wetness between her legs and a pleasant burn low in her womb.
He was right. Much as she liked to take charge of pleasuring him, there was something so wickedly exciting about having him on top of her like this, her body pinned beneath his. For the first time in her life, it made her enjoy feeling small and feminine. He held her there, pulling her hair aside to kiss her neck.
How could she possibly enjoy being dominated by a man, something she had always fought against? As she squirmed beneath him, loving his weight, his heat, his mouth on her, she realized the only reason she loved it was because it was Zach, and she knew with a complete and certain knowledge that he would never hurt her.
And she also knew she had equal power over him, the power to render him equally weak and trembling.
His hands went to her legs, and his knees thrust her thighs roughly apart, so far apart it almost hurt, but she loved it. Then, after a short pause, she felt his thick hard penis pushing into her from behind. She cried out with pleasure as he sheathed himself fully, filling her up completely, touching her womb with an intense contact that shot sparks through her body. Desperate to be filled, completed by him, she lifted her butt against him as he stroked in and out, meeting his thrusts. He drove into her and bent over her back again to press his mouth to her shoulder.
"You like this, don't you?” he growled, plunging deeply again and again against her soft buttocks.
"Yes!” she cried out, her voice muffled in the pillow. “God, yes! I love it."
Then he suddenly pulled out, and she whimpered as his hands turned her body again. She was weak, vibrating with need. He moved over her, between her thighs, kneeing them apart and pausing without entering her.
"Look at me, Ashlyn."
She forced her eyes open and met his gaze. The intensity was shockingly intimate, heating her, ratcheting up her trembling excitement. “I want to watch you come with me inside you."
He pushed into her, hard but not rough. Again she moaned at the feeling of fulfillment. She met his thrust, her eyes locked on his, and he leaned down, supporting his weight on his arms above her. Still watching her face, he kissed one breast, then the other, moving slowly, deeply inside her.
It was unbearable. It was frightening. It was beautiful. She reached up to cup his face, everything twisting and drawing up inside her, tighter, higher. “Zach,” she whispered, aching.
With a hard drive, he tensed above her. His eyes glazed but never left her face as he pressed through his climax, her own pleasure peaking in a dazzling starburst.
"Oh, Ashlyn,” he groaned. “God, Ashlyn.” Collapsing onto her, he pulled her face towards him and kissed her mouth.
The room was silent but for their panting breaths as their eyes met and held again. The soft light of the lamp cast the bed in a golden glow, the rest of the room fading to shadows.
Ashlyn's heart constricted and her eyes stung as she acknowledged the depth of her feelings for Zach. She could no longer kid herself that they were just “having fun.” This was the most powerful, intimate connection she'd ever felt with anyone, and she had a sinking feeling she would never feel this again with anyone else.
Zach stroked Ashlyn's cheek tenderly, her skin velvety and warm.
"You're so beautiful,” he whispered in awe. “So generous, so honest.” He swallowed, and the words he'd been holding back spilled out. “I love you, Ashlyn."
She stared at him, those incredible greeny-gold sparkling eyes wide with ... what? Dismay? Shock?
He closed his eyes momentarily, overcome by how vulnerable he had just made himself. But since when had it ever mattered to him how foolish he looked?
It mattered now.
It mattered more than anything. More than his family. More than his business. More than his next breath.
"Oh, Zach,” she whispered.
He opened his eyes.
"You can't tell me you don't feel it too,” he said urgently, his fingertips still stroking her smooth cheek, her lush mouth. “Not after that."
She was still silent, clearly struggling.
"Tell me, Ashlyn."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh shit. Ashlyn, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry.” He brushed the tears away. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have rushed it. I just..."
Shut the fuck up, idiot
, he told himself.
"I can't believe I'm crying. What a girl I am lately."
"I'm glad you're a girl,” he said fervently. She smiled.
"I do love you, Zach."
He met her eyes and saw love and tenderness, but something squeezed tight in his chest, because he also saw the faint shadow of fear there. His gut knotted.
"What?” he asked slowly.
She shook her head. “I do love you,” she said. “I'm just so afraid..."
"What are you afraid of?"
She closed her eyes, her lips pressed together. “I don't even know if I can explain,” she said. “I know this can't last, and I'm afraid we're both going to get hurt."
"What do you mean it can't last? Why would you say that when we're just getting started?"
He was a little ticked off.
"Nothing lasts, Zach,” she whispered. “I see it all the time."
"You think I'll cheat on you."
"It happens."
That hurt like a bitch. But he sensed there was more she wasn't telling him. Anger and disappointment rose within him.
"I gotta tell you, Ash,” he said slowly. “If you can't trust me, you don't really love me."
"Oh, please,” she said. “Don't give me that. That is so trite. People fall in love all the time with people they know they can't trust. And anybody who totally trusts someone else is just stupid or naïve."
"You don't really believe that,” he said, drawing back. She didn't meet his eyes.
"Don't, Zach,” she said. “You shouldn't trust me either."
"What!” He was astounded. “What the hell does that mean?"
She lifted a bare shoulder, still studying the duvet cover. “It means what it means.” Her mouth tightened stubbornly.
"This is fucking bizarre,” he growled, and then flopped onto his back beside her. He covered his eyes with one arm as he pondered this.
Trust. Love. He truly believed that if you loved someone you trusted her implicitly. With your life.
Maybe he was a naïve sap. He'd had his trust betrayed a few times. But he couldn't live his life always expecting to be kicked in the teeth. And he didn't believe that's how Ashlyn wanted to live her life.
He knew the impact Ashlyn's job and her family had had on her. But it wasn't hopeless. He could show her that not only was trust important and necessary, it was in her. He knew it was. His faith in her—maybe stupid misplaced faith—was absolute. Because he loved her.
His head was starting to hurt, but he had a crazy, risky idea.
He rolled over and took her mouth gently, lingeringly, holding her to him, wanting to show her she could trust.
"I want to make love to you,” he whispered.
"We just did that,” she protested weakly, breathlessly, her lips seeking his again.
"That was before. Now I'm
really
making love to you. Not fucking you or screwing you. I'm loving you."
"Oh Zach.” Her eyes squeezed closed; then she opened them and blinked rapidly. “I do love you. So much."
When he moved to enter her, he paused. “I want to feel you, Ashlyn. Skin to skin. But I don't want to put you at risk."
"It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't think I'll get pregnant right now. And I know you wouldn't do it if there was any other risk."
"Yes.” He slid into her, triumph swelling in him. He slid in and out of her slick sheath of hot, wet velvet, her muscles clenching him, making slow tender love to her. It felt incredible as he poured himself into her, hot and reckless.
The phone rang a few times before Zach managed to unwrap himself from around Ashlyn's warm body and fumble for it beside the bed.
"Yeah?” he mumbled. Then, “Jesus, Connor, it's eight o'clock on Saturday morning. What the hell are you calling about?” He paused. “Yeah, she's here."
Ashlyn rolled onto her back, her eyes still closed, vaguely aware of the conversation. She felt Zach grow still beside her as he listened and talked, his body tensing.
"She did what?” He listened again at length. “No way.” Silence again. “She did it
again
? Jesus, what's her problem?"
Ashlyn forced her eyes open, blinking, and raised up on one elbow, putting a hand on Zach's warm, flat abdomen. He glanced at her, an odd expression on his face, and slid out from under her hand to sit on the side of the bed, his back to her.
"Holy shit,” he said, his voice low and dark. He cursed again. Ashlyn started to get a bad feeling about this conversation. She sat up, pulling the covers over her breasts, her heart starting to beat rapidly.
"It was Melissa?” Silence again as he listened. Ashlyn was confused. What about Melissa?
"'Kay,” Zach said tightly. “Son of a bitch.” He hung up and tossed the phone down. He sat there with his back to her for a painfully long moment.
"Zach,” Ashlyn whispered. “What is it?"
He stood and went to pick up a pair of jeans lying over the arm of the chair in the corner. He stepped into them and zipped them up, not bothering with the button. Then he rubbed his face and ran his hands through his golden hair, leaving it spiked in all directions.
He turned to her, and her heart dropped at the look on his face—tight anger and pain.
"You...” he began, and stopped.
Wide-eyed, she watched him.
"That night we met, you were on a job,” he finally said, stunned disbelief in his voice. “You thought I was Connor."
Shit. It was hitting the fan now. Jessica had apparently decided to confess to Connor, and he'd felt it necessary to tell Zach.
"Yes,” she whispered.
His hurt-filled dark eyes looked at her. “Another lie,” he said accusingly, his voice frighteningly soft. “I am such an idiot. That's what you meant last night."
"No!” Ashlyn leaned forward, clutching the sheet to her. “You're not an idiot."
He shook his head, not really listening.
"That's why you disappeared,” he said slowly. “You had no intention of going anywhere with me. Not because you were afraid. Because you were just acting.” He walked closer to the bed. “The night I ran into you at the Bonaventure?"
"Another job,” she whispered, her throat tight and aching. “I was there to meet up with another guy."
"I must have put a crimp in your plans,” he said bitterly. “I can't believe I thought you were really interested in me."
"I
was
interested in you!"
"Oh come on. You've told me how you get guys interested ... you did that to me. It wasn't real. This whole relationship has been based on a lie—a deception."
"It was real!” she cried. “What I felt was real! But I couldn't tell you, Zach. It would have violated my client's privacy. Jessica's privacy. She hired me. I can't go around telling people that, even though it's been killing me ever since.” She paused, gulping for air. “I know you don't like my job,” she said, a little desperately. “But I thought we got past that the other night?"
He just stared at her. “That's not the point,” he said, eyes narrowed. “When did you know I wasn't Connor?” Then he answered his own question. “The day we came to your dad's office.” He nodded. “No wonder you looked so pole-axed."
She thought she'd hidden it better than that.
"I thought it was just because you were surprised to see me again,” he said. He rubbed his face. “This is too much.” Then he had another thought. “But you know what's even worse? You found out you fucked up, and you didn't tell Jessica."
Shame swept over her, hot and uncomfortable. “I did tell her,” she said, looking down. “I tried to tell her sooner, but she was out of town."
He looked at her skeptically, and that look from him, so trusting of everyone, was like a jagged blade ripping her heart. “It's true,” she said defensively. “I found out that Friday, and I tried to call her Monday. She was out of town that whole week. I couldn't tell her until last week.” She took a deep breath. “The only reason I didn't call her right away was because of ... us. What was happening with us. That was real, Zach."
He laughed shortly. “Christ, after our conversation last night, this is ironic. I'm trying to convince you to trust me, have faith in me, and meanwhile you were right. I'm the fucking idiot who obviously trusts too easily."
She looked at him sadly. What could she say? She knew from his perspective it looked bad, but she really couldn't have done anything differently. Other than tell Jessica sooner, and who knew? Jessica could have left on her trip Friday, meaning that was truly the earliest she could have told her.
"You almost destroyed my brother's marriage,” he said thickly. “You saw how miserable he was, and you had the ability to make it better."
She nodded, a lump the size of a billiard ball aching in her throat. How many times could she say it? She couldn't have told Connor the truth. He didn't seem to get that.