Page 40 of The Little Things

My grip on her chin tightened as I took a step closer, closing in on her. “That’s not what this is,” I gritted out. Her words stung, I was man enough to admit that.

Her lips parted on an exhale as she tipped her head back farther to look up at me. “I—I don’t understand.”

“This wouldn’t just be a hookup. I can’t tell you what this is, but it’s not that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know myself. I know the moment I kiss you, I’ll be wondering when I’ll get to do it again. I know the moment I sink my cock deep inside your perfect body, I’ll be planning ways to get back in there. I know one time with you isn’t going to be enough, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You consume my thoughts. It’s been that way since you first got here. Every time you smile or laugh at one of the other men, I want to knock their goddamn teeth down their throats. I’ve never been a jealous man, but I want those smiles to only be for me. And I know deep down that once I have you, there isn’t anything I won’t do to make you mine.”

She let out a stuttered breath, her gaze growing hazy as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she spoke.

“Zach?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You can kiss me again.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Rae

He moved faster than I expected. Much faster.

I stumbled back with a yelp as he charged forward, but he was on me before I had a chance to fall on my butt, his lips sealing on mine and swallowing down the noise. The instant Zach fused his lips with mine, time stopped. The world around us disappeared. There was only him and me and the kiss.

His hands slid over me, making me feel dizzy as his tongue coaxed my lips open. I’d kissed my fair share of men, mostly after having a little too much to drink at whatever nightclub we were all at, but none of them had ever felt like this. Zach wasn’t just a good kisser. He was a master. He could teach classes on how to properly kiss a woman.

My knees turned to mush, refusing to hold me up any longer, but before I could fall, Zach wrapped one of his thick, strong arms around me, molding my body to his. I felt so small and soft against all of his... large and incredibly hard.

I placed my hands on his stomach, gasping at the feel of all the ridges and indents beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. Now that I was finally touching him, I couldn’t seem to stop. I slid my palms up, over his defined pecs and broad shoulders. I rose up on my tiptoes to get closer, looping my arms around his thick neck and holding on tightly. My fingernails scraped against the nape of his neck as his tongue swept against mine, causing a needy whimper to claw up my throat.

“God, I’ve been dreamin’ about this.” His voice was thick and raspy, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “Could kiss you for hours, baby.”

A thrill shot through me like a bolt of lightning at hearing that, but while I was enjoying kissing him too—more than I could possibly put into words—there was this persistent buzzing beneath my skin that was only getting worse as the seconds ticked by. With every brush of his hands over the dip of my waist and the flare of my hips, a need for... more ignited deep in my core, sparking to life like a small campfire before growing into a raging forest fire.

Kissing him wasn’t enough. I needed more. I wanted more. Only, I didn’t have the first clue what I wanted or how to ask for it. I might have kissed plenty of nameless, faceless guys over the past few years, but I’d only taken two of them to bed, and neither experience had been much to write home about.

The first one had been when I was twenty. I’d been in L.A. for a year by then and all my friends were hooking up. I’d done it mainly because I was tired of being a virgin and wanted to get it over with. It had been painful at first, then... underwhelming. I hadn’t orgasmed, hadn’t even come close, but I’d faked it because I thought I had to, to spare his pride. I might have been willing to give him another shot if he hadn’t run and told all his friends about it, bragging like he was some kind of sex god.

The second guy was someone I’d been seeing for a couple months. I thought there was potential with him. I thought he was the kind of guy I could see myself being with for a while, if not the long haul. We dated for a little less than a year, and the sex was pretty hit or miss. Sometimes I’d climax, but that was only if I was on top and really focused. And if he didn’t get off first.

Our relationship ended because I thought we could be adults and talk about how to make things better in the bedroom. He’d taken it as a personal attack and broke up with me. I felt sorry for whoever came next, because they were in for a boring, mediocre love life, for damn sure.

Neither of them had made me feel even a fraction of what Zach did. It felt like there was an inferno inside me, building and building. Part of me was afraid I might combust while the other part of me welcomed the explosion.

“Zach,” I whimpered, that one word coming out a plea.

“I’m right here, Rae. I’ve got you.”

I threaded my fingers through the short strands of his hair, trying to hold on, to get closer, to fuse with him. “I need...” I rocked my pelvis forward, sucking in a sharp breath at the feel of the steel rod prodding me in the belly. He was so hard and so big.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

I let out a little whine as I desperately searched my brain for the right words. God, I knew I should have watched more porn. At least then I would know which way my tastes leaned and how to vocalize those cravings.

“I—I don’t . . . I’m not sure.”

Zach pulled his head back, blinking his eyes into focus. His pupils were so big his irises were solid black. “I think I know what you need.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the pads of his fingers brushing against my temple and down my jaw. “You trust me?”

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