Zack
Page 41“I’m almost there,” he grits out through heavy, panting breaths.
“Come for me,” I whisper as I lean my head back and look up into his beautiful face. I’m rewarded with a groan, and within moments of my soft plea, he starts to come. It shoots out over my hand, hitting my bare stomach warmly.
As long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever hear again something as beautiful but painful as the long moan Zack lets out. It’s almost as if he was being tortured for centuries and then suddenly he was filled with pleasure and peace—that is how utterly satisfying his release is.
His body shudders and his fingers tighten more in my hair. When he’s finally empty, he gives a huge sigh of relief and then pulls slowly away.
“Thank you,” he whispers gratefully as he stares down at me. Gone is the lust and carnality of what we did and left in its place is something that’s akin to gratitude mixed with uncertainty.
I smile softly at him, and in this moment I want him to take me in his arms and kiss me. I want to feel his lips on mine again in affection and recognition of what we just gave each other.
Instead, he pulls the hand towel off the bar next to the sink and wipes my stomach off first, then my hand. He tosses it to the floor and pulls his pants up after tucking himself in. He won’t meet my eyes as he gets dressed, and I just stand there stupidly, watching him.
I want to demand he look at me and tell me what he’s feeling. I don’t regret what we just did, but I do want to know what this means going forward. Was this a onetime-only thing or are we going to continue on?
There’s no helping the silly sentiments I’m feeling right now as a woman. I need the validation, unfortunately.
His head tilts to the side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say with a false smile. “Great.”
He steps back into me, laying a kiss on my forehead. “Go ahead and get your shower. Ben will be home before too long.”
“Okay,” I say as I bend over to pick up my clothes and hold them protectively in front of my body. Now that the glow of my climax has faded, I feel incredibly self-conscious.
“I have to run out for a few minutes,” he says as an afterthought. I still don’t look at him, but because I feel stupid standing here naked in front of him, I quickly slip on my underwear and jeans, followed by my bra.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zack asks again, and I raise my gaze to his. His eyes are worried. “Talk to me.”
I hastily pull my T-shirt over my head, and once I pull my hair free of the neckline, I give a sigh and say, “What was that, Zack?”
“You know what it was,” he says quietly in response, not even answering my question. But then…he sort of does answer my question when he says, “Now…I’m going to go out and get some condoms, because, Kate…while that was an amazing hand job, I really, really want to know what it feels like to fuck you.”
Zack
I’ve successfully stayed away from Kate for two days.
Pure. Fucking. Torture.
But I did it.
Yeah…I’m well aware of the mixed signals I’m sending her. First I kiss her, then I ignore her. Then I finger her to orgasm, she returns the favor, and then I ignore her again.
When I left her as she dressed in her bathroom, I had every intention of going out, buying a big-ass box of condoms, and sinking myself into her that night after Ben was sound asleep.
What I didn’t count on, though, was the overwhelming wave of guilt that crashed over me when I left the drugstore. I sat in my SUV with my hands gripping the wheel tight and worried over whether Gina was looking down on me from heaven with disappointment. I debated throwing the condoms away right then and there, but something held me back. Despite the guilt, I wasn’t fully ready to let go of the notion of being with Kate. To be able to experience all of the feelings that were so powerful they would be in Technicolor if you could see them.
I just didn’t know when I’d be ready to do that.
The next morning, Kate gave me an odd look when I came into the kitchen but didn’t say a word to me. She kept up a stream of cheery chatter and acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world. This eased my guilt somewhat, because I wasn’t just feeling guilty about Gina. I was feeling remorse for what this was doing to Kate.
I know she acts as if she’s fine, but I don’t see how she can be. That may have been purely a sexual act we did the other day, but I don’t care what you say…women involve their emotions in the act, while men just involve their…well, dicks.
But that’s not to say I didn’t have any feelings regarding Kate, because hello…I’m feeling fucking guilty here. Of course there were feelings. I mean, that was the whole fucking point of me crossing the line with her. She fucking made me feel.
But I’m all kinds of screwed up in the head about it now, and the longer I stayed away from her, the more my guilt started to lessen where Gina was concerned. The more my guilt lessened, the more my desire for Kate kicked back into high gear.
I’m sensing a vicious cycle starting.
We had a game tonight against the Denver Blue Devils. I played okay…not stellar, and I’m a little pissed at myself for it. But my head wasn’t in the game fully. While I didn’t directly think about Gina or Kate or fantastic fucking hand jobs by my son’s smoking-hot yet nerdy nanny during the game itself, I know my mind was unsettled enough over all of this that it was hindering my ability to truly focus. I left the ice not even coming close to scoring a point for my team.