Page 51 of One for the Road
“Wonderful,” I cut him off. “Today wasabsolument merveilleux.”
He looks up, and his worried frown turns into a grin. “Yeah. Today was wonderful. So maybe the smart thing to do would be—”
“Zach.” I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head.
“What? Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?”
I take a deep breath and let my arms drop. Something has been building in me all day, like a storm growing at the edge of the sky, and I’ve been pushing it away, shoving and shoving like wind battling against the clouds.
Only you can’t have sunshine forever. You can’t. The storm finds its way into your skies no matter what, and maybe it’s time to stop pushing back. Maybe it’s time to let the clouds roll in and do what I’m good at. Maybe it’s time to dance in the rain.
“Zachary Hastings, I have spent the almost three years since I met you doing what I thought was the smart thing, and I still don’t know if what we’re doing now is very, very stupid or not, but...I don’t want you to go tonight.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “I want you to stay.”
His eyes get wide. “Y-you do?”
I try not to let him see that I’m shaking. “Yes, you dork, so get over here and kiss me.”
He steps into the light and pulls my body to his, and I know the skies are clear tonight, but I still hear the thunder. I still see the lightning when I close my eyes.
The storm can bring it on.
Fourteen
DeeDee
NIGHTCAP: an alcoholic drink consumed before bedtime
“Zach,stop looking at Cyndi Lauper and take my shirt off!”
I grab Zach’s face and twist it away from where he’s staring at the wall beside my bed—the bed that I’m lying on with my legs wrapped around his waist while his hips grind against mine.
“I was just intrigued by the fact that basically all your stuff is still in boxes, and yet you’ve taken the time to hang a giant framed poster of Cyndi Lauper on your wall.”
“Be intrigued later!” I fume. I buck my hips up to press myself against him, more than a little satisfied with the way his jaw drops open and his eyes roll back. I don’t think either of us is thinking about posters or eighties pop stars anymore.
I can feel how hard he is, and it’s driving me crazy. The weight of him, the heat, the sounds he makes when I touch him: it’s better than anything I could have imagined. It’sZach, here, now, with me. As turned on and desperate as I am, this already feels like way more than just sex. All of my senses are on high alert, like my body knows how important this moment is and won’t let me forget it.
“Fuck, you feel good.” Zach breathes the words against my lips.
I let out a frustrated moan and yank his head down to kiss me. I’ve learned that Zach Hastings using curse words in bed might just make me lose my mind and never find it again. I think he may have realized it too; I could swear he’s started doing it on purpose.
My hands claw at his shirt, my heels digging into his back to pull him closer. Soon we’re totally lost to each other, just tongues and teeth and hot, heavy breath. Kissing him is intoxicating. There’s no other word for it. He takes me over like the sweetest poison until I’m nothing buthis. There’s nothing else when his mouth is on mine, every sweep of his tongue or nip of his teeth making me feel weaker and stronger all at once.
He shifts his weight to hit me at just the right spot, and I almost scream against his lips.
I need him.
Now.
I need the wholemauditworld to fall away. I need him so close there’s no room to be scared anymore.
“Zach.” I pull back enough to say his name, my eyes still closed and my face scrunched up like this is a dream I’m trying to hold onto. “Please.”
I find the edge of his undershirt with my fingers—his flannel came off somewhere between the front door and my bedroom—and he sits up long enough to pull it all the way off before lowering himself back on top of me.
His bare back feels so good under my hands that I shudder. I bury my face in his neck and trail kisses along his throat, darting my tongue out to taste the salt of his skin. He’s warm and safe, and he’s not going anywhere. I feel like I’m wrapping myself around my own personal sun as I hook my legs around his waist. I need the heat. I need it so bad I’m shaking for it.
You need too much.
