Growing up with an addict for a mother taught me that actions speak louder than words and to take nothing at face value.
No matter how attracted I am to a man, in the beginning, I always hold back. It’s not about playing head games or any old-fashioned notion about men not wanting the cow if they can get the milk for free. I’m just cautious about getting naked and vulnerable with someone who might be hiding deal-breaking behavior.
But Zack is different.
Maybe it’s the fact that my best friend has known and adored him forever. Maybe it’s that I’ve seen him around town for years, ferrying his grandparents to all their social engagements with the patience of a saint. Or it could simply be that he has the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.
Whatever it is, from the moment his lips met mine, I’ve wanted to be out of my clothes and all over him. Just feeling his hand on my thigh through my dress is enough to make my nipples hard and my panties wet. I want to beg him to pull into the first rest stop and bang me in the family bathroom up against the wall by the hand drier machine, but desperation isn’t sexy.
And there’s a good chance Zack won’t want to sleep with me once he knows how deep my crazy runs.
Then don’t ask him! It’s not too late to jump off the crazy train, woman.
But it is too late. I want Zack in me. Without a condom.
I want it so badly I couldn’t sleep last night, not even after I finally slid my hand down the front of my pajama pants and got myself off imagining what it would be like to feel him coming while he was buried deep inside me.
I’m still imagining it now, making it very difficult to concentrate on polite conversation. I’m sure removing Zack’s hand from my thigh would help, but I’m not about to do anything to discourage him from getting his hands all over me.
There’s a reason I wore a sundress with spaghetti straps and no bra.
I am a woman on a mission, and I’m not above using every weapon in my arsenal to ensure I get what I want, what I need so badly that I feel a little dizzy every time I glance Zack’s way.
God, he’s pretty. And sexy. And sweet.
But he’s also a reasonable human being who isn’t suffering from a killer case of baby-making fever.
I’m almost certainly going to be disappointed. He’s going to say no. He should say no! No is the only reasonable answer to a request like the one I intend to make.
“Would that work?” he asks, making me jump in surprise.
“Sorry, what?” I shake my head, laughing as I turn his way. “Sorry, I was spacing out. What did you say?”
“No worries.” He smiles. “I asked if you were okay with waiting for dinner until we get to the hotel around seven? Or would you like to stop somewhere earlier?”
I shift in my seat, sending his hand sliding higher on my thigh, making my pulse beat hungrily between my legs. “Seven is fine,” I say, barely resisting the urge to squirm beneath his touch.
I have to get control of myself, or Zack’s going to think I’m a sex fiend.
Fernando. I should talk about Fernando. Nothing less sexy than chatting about the guy who just dumped you.
“I’m used to eating late,” I add. “Fernando was raised in Barcelona, and they never eat before eight or nine over there. He says it’s because they need time to build up an appetite post siesta.”
“Best custom ever,” Zack says, not seeming bothered by the mention of my ex, which is refreshing. Fernando was so jealous I couldn’t bring up an old boyfriend in passing conversation without him having a fit about it. “I wish we did the siesta thing. I get up to run at five most mornings, and I’m always ready for a nap by two or three.”
“Me, too,” I say, adding with a laugh. “The nap part, not the five a.m. part. I don’t get up that early to do anything, but I do try to make time to sketch in my design book before breakfast. It’s my most creative time of the day.”
He casts a warm glance my way before his gaze returns to the road. “Me, too. There’s always music in my head first thing in the morning. What do you sketch?”
“Furniture and textile designs mostly. I fell into clothing design by accident. Interior design is my first love.” I shrug. “So even though losing my job is scary, it’s also an opportunity to course-correct career-wise. I’ve already sent out some feelers and received a portfolio request from an amazing interior design firm in Bangor. They do funky, outside of the box stuff that’s still high-end and timeless. I love their aesthetic.”
“That’s awesome. Congrats.”
“Thanks,” I say with a sigh. “I’m excited to apply but cautiously optimistic about my chances. They loved the work I did on Theo’s restaurant, but that’s my only fully executed project. I’m pretty sure they’re looking for someone with more of a track record.”
He nods. “It’s like that in the music industry, too. I’ve been part of a successful band for a long time, but it was still hard to find someone willing to take a chance on a solo deal. I had to agree to take most of the profit on the back end.” He looks over his shoulder, signaling as he pulls into the left lane to pass a slow-moving SUV. “But that’s fine. I’ve been saving hard the past few years. My grandparents are all set for retirement, even if they end up needing care at home, so I’m free to take risks.”
“Did you always live with your grandparents?” I ask, spreading my fingers in the air between us. “If that isn’t too personal.”
He flashes a big grin my way that makes my incorrigible nipples start tingling again. “No, it’s not too personal. You can ask me anything you want. And yeah, I did. My mom lived with us for a while when I was little, but she couldn’t stay clean, so my grandmother asked her to leave. I was six. Haven’t seen her since.”
Wincing, I nod. “I’m sorry. But I’ve been there. My mom’s an addict, too. Heroin.”
“Pills for mine,” he says, squeezing my thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too, and it’s okay.” I pull in a breath and let it out slowly. “Well, it’s not okay, but you know… It’s as okay as it can be. She gets clean for long stretches, but it never seems to stick.” I shrug. “At least she had her act together while I was in high school when I needed her the most. I’m grateful for that.”
Zack glances my way. “Hard time in high school?”
I laugh, leaning my head against the seat. “So hard. They say you fall in love with people who remind you of your parents, and I made that my mission in life for a few years. My boyfriend was this alcoholic narcissist who made me miserable, but I had such a hard time quitting him. I kept thinking I could make it better, make him better, if I could just figure out how to give him exactly what he needed.”
“While ignoring what you needed?” Zack skims his hand up and down my thigh in a way I know is meant to be comforting, but it only makes my sex-starved body sizzle hotter.
“Of course. Classic dysfunction.” I pinch the gauzy fabric of my dress between two fingers, concentrating on the rough cat’s-tongue texture instead of the way my nipples are aching. “But in the end, I’m glad I went through that when I did. I got the crazy out of the way when I was young, saw a therapist my senior year of high school, and have had much healthier relationships ever since.”