Alexa sat in her bed, propped up against the headboard, staring down at her e-reader but completely unfocused. Although it was early, not even nine, she’d crawled into bed almost an hour ago. Sierra had gone out for a drink with Taylor, and although she’d invited her, Alexa hadn’t felt like joining, in part because she was avoiding Taylor. She had enough stuff to work through right now, and she could handle only so much at once.
She’d last seen Sean in the living room, a Dodgers game on the TV, his laptop open in front of him and a few folders spread over the couch, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. She hadn’t wanted to intrude when he was clearly busy working and had headed upstairs.
Not that Sean and Sierra made her feel as though she were intruding. Not at all. She just felt so damn out of place, as though she didn’t belong anywhere. Not even in her own life, so much of which had been a lie, apparently.
She’d thought that maybe today would feel different somehow. After planting the bugs. After Zack. But it had turned into a nothing day, like so many other nothing days. The sky hadn’t fallen, and it wasn’t until she’d crawled into bed that she realized she’d spent the day waiting for just that to happen.
She’d barely seen Zack, as he’d been busy training, getting ready for his fight, and she hadn’t left the house. Sierra had had meetings and been out most of the day, and Sean had been at the office. Ian had stayed in the house, keeping an eye on things, and, while she liked him, he wasn’t much of a talker. She’d had way too much time to think and wonder and worry, and by the time she’d eaten dinner, her brain had been exhausted. She’d tried shutting it off with a movie but hadn’t been able to focus. So she’d tried her book instead, but even the latest Nora Roberts—normally her favorite—couldn’t hold her attention. Her mind was too busy devouring itself with everything going on.
A knock sounded softly at her door.
“It’s open,” she called, dropping her e-reader into her lap. She’d expected to see Sierra, but Zack poked his head in.
“Hey. Just wanted to check in on you,” he said, stepping in and leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him. She smiled, warmth infusing her at the sight of him. At the sound of his voice. Ever since she’d met him, she’d loved the sound of his voice. It wasn’t deep or rumbly but still pleasantly masculine. Gentle, and almost quiet, with a melodic quality. Confident and friendly and warm. There was no hint of the violence he was capable of in his voice. He didn’t sound like a guy who could choke someone out, who could make them bleed with his bare hands. But he was, quiet, friendly voice and all.
She shrugged. “I’m okay. I missed you today.”
“Missed you too, princess. Busy day.”
“Are you nervous? About your fight?”
He shook his head, his mouth easing up in a crooked smile. “Nah. I’m ready.”
She nodded, and when his eyes met hers, a heavy silence hung between them. Alone, in a bedroom, the air practically crackling. “Do you…want to come sit with me?” Still holding his gaze, she patted the spot beside her on the bed. A question. An invitation.
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything. He shut the door behind him but then returned to his spot against the wall, arms once again crossed over his chest. She traced the contours of all those battle-earned muscles with her eyes, the way the fabric of his dark-blue T-shirt clung to them. Dipping lower, she took in the black belt looped around his waist, his jeans, his sneakers. The hard, muscled length of him.
He cleared his throat softly. “I’m fighting tomorrow. We can’t have sex.” The word sex filled the space between them, the way a heartbeat fills a chest, taking up so much room and making its presence felt because it’s alive.
She licked her lips, her heart galloping away in her chest, and then she smiled. “That thing from Rocky’s true?”
A smile worked its way across his face, and he tipped his head. “Not really. It’s mostly just tradition and routine.”
“How long before a fight do you abstain?”
“At least a few days, sometimes longer. Long enough to bring some pent-up energy into the cage.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks at the thought of Zack’s pent-up energy, unleashed and focused on her. Something hot surged up through her chest, and then she laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth, a sudden giddiness bursting free.
Zack somehow managed to smile with his mouth and frown with his eyebrows at the same time. “What?”
She laughed harder, her eyes watering. “I’m sorry. I’m just having kind of a surreal moment. Like it’s totally normal for you and me to have this casual conversation about sex.” She flopped back against the headboard and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I don’t even recognize my life anymore.”
He chuckled softly and then toed off his shoes. “I’m coming over there, but no funny business.”
She laughed again, and God, it felt good to laugh. “You bring all that sexy over here, and I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
He strode toward the bed. “So you think I’m sexy?” He sat down beside her, his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. Slipping an arm over her shoulders, he pulled her in against him, tucking her head under his chin.
“Yes. So much that I don’t know what to do with it.” It was the truth, and it felt good.
He cursed softly and kissed the top of her head. Then he sighed. “Jamie knows.”
She frowned but couldn’t bring herself to raise her head. It felt too good to be nestled into him. “Knows?”
“He was with Morales while you were activating the listening devices. He heard us. I guess Morales did too.”
She sat up, worry and guilt slicing through her and disrupting the peace she’d found snuggled against him. “Shit. Are you in trouble?”
He shook his head. “He’s not going to say anything. I need to keep you safe, and he gets that.” He stroked a hand up and down her back, and she sighed, relaxing back into him.
How was it possible that just being held felt so incredibly good? So incredibly right?
“You’re risking a lot,” she said, tracing a hand up the center of his chest.
“Worth it.” He kissed her temple and slipped a hand under her chin, tipping her face up. “So fucking worth it.” His brown eyes shone down at her, full of a dark, glistening intensity.
She raised her hand from his chest and stroked his cheek, his thick stubble rasping against her palm. “I need to ask you something.” It was a question that had been bouncing around her brain all day.
“Anything.”
She settled back down against him. Before anything else could happen between them, she needed to understand. “A year ago…why did you choose Taylor and not me?”
His chest rose and fell, a soft, steady movement against her cheek. “Because I assumed there was no chance in hell a woman like you would even be interested in me. You’re practically Hollywood royalty, and you’re gorgeous and have this amazing personality. It was intimidating.” He paused, and she let it sink in. Zack had been intimidated by her. It felt…unbelievable, almost. He continued. “And you were so shy around me. I just thought…” He shrugged. “That I was right. That you weren’t into me.”
Alexa thought back to a year ago, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. “I was shy around you because you’re so hot and sweet and funny and normal, and I was pretty sure I didn’t deserve all of that.” At the time, still living with her parents, she hadn’t felt worthy of a man like him. But things were different now. Her life might’ve been falling apart, but she felt more whole than she had in a long time.
“But you’re amazing. Why would you think that?” Such a simple question, with such a complicated answer.
She shook her head, her insides glowing with his compliment. “I guess I was intimidated too. And then it was so obvious that Taylor did like you…”
“So you let it go,” he said, finishing her thought. “If I’d known…” He let out a heavy sigh and held her closer.
“Don’t,” she said. “We can’t change the past.” God, did she ever know that.
“By the time Taylor and I broke up a few months later, you were dating someone else.”
She nodded. She’d briefly dated Jesse Miller, another actor. Her mother had set them up, and Alexa had played along, just as she always had. “And you’d become my friend’s ex.”
“If I’d known that anything between us was possible, I wouldn’t have let that stop me. I know it’s messy, but…” He trailed off, and she raised her head from his chest to look at him. He traced his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’ve wanted this since the day I met you. I’ve never stopped wanting it. Never stopped wanting you and caring about you.”
Zack acted as if it was so easy to care about her, when she’d spent her whole life being told the opposite. She didn’t have words for the swelling in her chest, so she kissed him, a light, brushing sweep of her lips against his, wanting to give some of that sweetness back to him.
The enormity of everything at stake weighed her down, and she snuggled back into him, resting her hand on his firm, warm chest, the other curled between them. It was wrong for him to be in her bed. Wrong for her to pursue something with her friend’s ex. Wrong for him to get involved with someone he was protecting.
And yet with his heart beating against her palm, it only felt right.
She pressed her lips against his throat, leaving a trail of soft, delicate kisses because she didn’t know how else to convey everything she was feeling. Gratitude. Happiness. Fear. Worry. Doubt. Lust. And something bigger, deeper, thrilling, and terrifying, shimmering around them. It was as though the kisses the night before had dissolved the wall between them, and while everything was so new, there was also something comfortingly familiar about being with Zack.
He circled his arms around her waist, and suddenly she was in his lap, straddling him.
“No sex,” she whispered, her breath whooshing out of her in a hard exhale when he sucked the skin right under her ear. His hands caressed up and down her back, and she closed her eyes.
“We’re not having sex. We’re making out.” He kissed her neck, and she rolled her hips against him, unable to help herself. His cock was spectacularly hard and thick, even through his jeans.
God, it felt right. Real and hot and so, so right. She’d been drawn to him from the second she’d laid eyes on him, as though her body and heart had known something her brain hadn’t wanted to acknowledge: that maybe, just maybe, he was meant for her.
He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, slowly and deeply, as their hips moved together. His tongue stroked into her mouth, matching the rhythm of his hips, and she kissed him back, the slide of his tongue against hers sending hot shivers through her. She wove her hands through his soft, thick hair, and he groaned quietly against her mouth and then broke the kiss, his chest rising against hers.
“You see what you do to me? God, Alexa,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his cock pressed against her thigh. A surge of power charged through her, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and she wanted to chase it, needing more. Tentatively, she rocked against him and was rewarded with a husky groan. “I should go,” he said in a tortured whisper, just before he crushed his mouth to hers in a searing kiss, his lips hot and urgent against hers.
“I know.” Her mouth moved against his as she slipped her hands under his T-shirt, tracing her fingertips over the ridges of his abs.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and hooded. “Sean’s home. We might get caught.”
“We might,” she agreed. His cock twitched against her, and she let out a soft sigh.
He kissed her, slow and teasing, cupping her ass and rocking her against him again, the ridge of his cock sliding against her, and even through her yoga pants and panties, she felt that slide like an electric shock.
“We should probably stop,” she said, her voice a little shaky.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his brown eyes holding hers. The air between them thickened, pulsing with tension, and she slowly shook her head.
“Ah shit,” he ground out before kissing her again, a little harder, a little rougher than before, and she realized just how much he’d been holding back. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, until she couldn’t think, until she couldn’t feel anything but him. Kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. Never in her life had she been so thoroughly kissed.
“But no sex,” she managed to gasp out several minutes later.
“We’re not having sex. We’re making out.” His voice was husky, and, with one arm wrapped around her waist, he caressed her breast, his knuckles brushing over her nipple through the cotton of her shirt. She arched into his touch, moaning softly, raw need spreading through her like a fire. He kissed her again, his tongue sliding against hers, sending heat spiraling through her and feeding the growing throb between her legs.
She felt as though she were about to burst into flames, everything in her body heavy and hot and aching for something more. It was intense and not anything she was used to. This gnawing hunger, the sensation of climbing toward something was almost too much to bear. And all they were doing was kissing and touching, fully clothed.
With a ragged breath, he broke the kiss. “Take your shirt off. I want to see you.” He rolled her nipple through her shirt, and she jerked, hot pleasure arrowing through her body and feeding the pulsing ache between her legs.
“But no sex,” she said, leaning back slightly and reaching for the hem of her T-shirt.
His jaw clenched. “Take your shirt off.”
She did, pulling it off over her head and letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. As his eyes devoured her, he raised his hands and traced the curves of her breasts, studying them as though he’d never seen a naked woman before.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, his hands still moving so, so gently over her bare breasts. When he looked at her like that, with reverence and awe and lust, she felt beautiful in a way she never had before, especially with a man. It was a golden truth, and warmth radiated through her chest, a happiness almost too big to hold.
She cupped his face and kissed him softly. “You make me feel beautiful.”
“God, Alexa. My God.” He buried his face in her neck, still caressing her breasts. His thumbs traced over her nipples, and her breath came in sharp gasps. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently, sending tingles of pleasure racing down her spine. She pulled impatiently at his shirt, and he leaned forward so he could pull it off and toss it to the side. She fell against him, her breasts pressed into his bare chest, and the sensation of being skin to skin with him almost overwhelmed her. The warm slide of his bare skin against hers felt like joy, felt like desire, felt like home. Something inside her was unraveling and tightening at the same time, and she needed more. Needed Zack.
They weren’t alone in the house, and they weren’t supposed to have sex, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop kissing him, stop touching him. She’d wanted this—exactly this—for too long. She didn’t care about anything but Zack and how good he felt. How good he was making her feel. And God, it felt good not to care about anything except feeling good.
His mouth trailed lower, and he kissed a path across one breast and then the other. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking and biting, holding her in place with an arm around her waist, his hand caressing her other breast as she writhed against him. Pleasure speared through her, and she clenched her thighs, feeling achy and empty.
“Oh God, that feels good,” she said, and he responded with a low, growling moan, moving his mouth to her other breast.
“So damn beautiful,” he said, his mouth moving against her.
Another surge of power zapped through her, and she slid her hand lower, over his gorgeously muscled chest, his firm, taut stomach, and down to his cock, hard and straining fiercely against his zipper. She ran the tips of her fingers over him, smiling when she felt his cock twitch as though jumping toward her touch.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and brought his mouth back to hers again. “We should stop,” he murmured against her mouth, his thumb playing over her nipple as she stroked him, his other hand cupping the back of her head. He pulled back, and she wanted to beg him not to stop. It was a greedy, selfish thing to ask, and she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. She was so wound up with wanting that she didn’t have room for anything else.
But then his eyes, hot and dark, met hers. It was as though someone had lit a fuse, igniting the air between them, and she knew they weren’t going to stop. Knew it and could’ve cried, she was so relieved.
For the first time in her life, she understood why everyone was so obsessed with sex.
He pinched her nipple, drawing a moan from her, and she brought her trembling fingers to his belt buckle, the hot, aching throb deep inside her growing more and more intense with each touch, every kiss. One hand still on her breast, he hooked a thumb into the waistband of her yoga pants, toying with them, teasing her as he slid his thumb against the fabric.
“Yes,” she moaned, and he started to slide them down, easing them over her hips. She stood and kicked free of them, but then stilled, the tiniest twinge of guilt working its way through the haze of lust clouding her senses. “What about no sex before a fight? The routine? The tradition?”
Zack swung his legs over the edge of the bed, facing her, and he gently gripped her hips and pulled her into the cradle of his parted legs. He kissed and nipped at her stomach, and she shook a little. Shook with wanting and needing and feeling and falling.
His hands still on her hips, he looked up at her. Holding her gaze, he hooked his thumbs into her panties and started working them down. “Fuck tradition. I need to be inside you.”
This wasn’t a fantasy. This was real. Zack was actually saying these words to her, and she could tell from the intensity shining in his eyes that he meant them. Her heart burst open, its insides spilling everywhere like something hot and melty.
She whimpered, almost overwhelmed with the intensity of the moment. Of what they were about to do, and what it meant to her.
“Fuck, princess. Look at you,” he murmured as her panties landed around her ankles. She blushed under the hunger of his gaze, heat crawling across her chest. He smiled and, as he kissed her hip, slid one finger between her lips, stroking lightly over her clit. “God, you’re so wet.”
“From making out,” she managed to say, although the last word barely came out because he’d circled his thumb over her clit. She felt him smile against her hip, and then he eased two fingers into her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the loud moan that tried to escape.
“I want to go slow and taste every single inch of you,” he said, looking up at her as he fucked her slowly with his fingers. “I want to spend hours finding all the different ways you like to be touched and kissed. Finding out what turns you on. What makes you come.” He curled his fingers inside her, and her hips jumped toward him as pleasure shot through her body. He feathered his thumb over her clit, and she let out a tiny, gasping moan, trying desperately to be quiet. “But I can’t. I can’t wait. I’m about to lose my mind.” His free hand palmed the flesh of her ass, and she felt his hand tremble slightly.
The idea that he was just as gone as she was sent lust swirling through her, and she clenched around his fingers. “I don’t want to wait. I just want you.”
He pulled his fingers free, and he stood. He was so tall, so broad up close like this, and she traced the contours of his chest, her pulse pounding in her ears, in the tips of her fingers, between her legs. The soft clink of metal drew her attention downward, and she watched his big hands as he undid his belt and opened his jeans. Watched as he pushed first his jeans and then his boxer briefs down. Watched as his thick, hard cock snapped free of his clothing.
She bit her lip, worry flickering through her. “Um…whoa.” Tentatively, she reached for him and stroked him, his cock heavy and hot in her hand. She couldn’t fit her grip all the way around him, and she swallowed, nervous anticipation fluttering low in her stomach. He was big. Really big. Gorgeously big. Thick and long and…big.
He flexed his hips, pushing into her grip. God, she loved how he felt in her hand, velvety soft skin covering his impossibly hard cock. When he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her, it was soft and sweet, and she knew he was trying to reassure her. “I’ll go slow.” He kissed her again and then kissed a path from her mouth to her ear, teasing her earlobe with his tongue. “But you’re so goddamn wet that I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”
Even though she could see the pile of their discarded clothes, could feel the air against her bare skin, could feel Zack’s hands stroking up her back, his mouth on her neck—hell, his hard, naked cock was in her hand and she was stroking him—it still felt surreal. She was about to have sex with Zack De Luca.
Doubt seized her, and she bit her lip. Did he like how she was touching him? Did he like how her body looked? Felt? What if she disappointed him in some way? What if he found her lacking? What if he regretted breaking his “no sex before a fight” rule for her?
What if what if what if. The two syllables thrummed through her.
“Hey,” Zack said softly, tipping her face up to his, “you’re shaking.”
“I’m nervous.” It was a half truth, but all she could give, because, despite her doubts, she still wanted him. Wanted to be with him.
He cradled her face with one hand. “Don’t be. Nothing to be nervous about.” He ran a hand through her hair and stroked the other down her back, caressing her ass. “We’ve both wanted this.” He kissed her, so slowly, so sweetly, that it was like honey flowing over her. “We both know this is right.”
His words settled over her, and she stepped away from him, pulling him toward the bed. He smiled, that crooked smile that lit up his whole face. “Hang on.” He bent and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a condom. She sank down onto the bed as she watched, riveted, transfixed, unable to take her eyes away from him, completely fascinated by his body, by the way it looked and moved and smelled. He tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on, and as he moved toward her, she scooted back on the bed, her heart fluttering in her chest.
He eased his weight down on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around him, never wanting to forget this moment. The brush of his skin against hers sent ripples of need coursing through her, and she arched up into him, wanting more. Wanting everything.
Supporting his weight on one arm, he reached between them and pushed slowly into her, only an inch, maybe less. Enough that she could feel him. Enough that she wanted more.
“God, Zack. Yes. I want you inside me,” she whispered. He held her gaze as he slowly worked his cock into her, his eyes soft and full of emotion. Inch by inch, he stretched and filled her, and she felt like a spring, not coiled tight, but being stretched in opposite directions, everything inside her pulling and tightening. Pressure and warmth and throbbing that all felt so damn good she didn’t have words for it.
He pulled all the way out and then slid back into her, burying himself to the hilt this time. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out and wrapped her legs around his hips. He held completely still, and she traced her hands down his back, marveling at all the hard, rippling muscle beneath warm skin. He flexed his hips, somehow pushing in deeper, and she arched up into him, pleasure flaring through her.
Supporting his weight on his arms, he gazed down at her, his eyes so, so bright. “Alexa,” he said, her name a hoarse whisper.
“I know.” He stroked in and out of her once, and she held her breath, trying to be quiet. “I know.”
She was in love with Zack De Luca. With his body inside hers, she couldn’t deny it—didn’t want to deny it—any longer. He pressed his forehead against hers and pumped his hips, establishing a slow, steady rhythm, and something deep inside her started to build, hot, twisting pressure.
“You feel incredible,” he said, gazing down at her with those smoldering brown eyes as he fucked her slowly, sweetly. “I’ve never…” He kissed her, and she kissed him back with everything she had, because she’d never either. Never and probably wouldn’t for the rest of her life.
He rolled his hips as he slowly pulled out, and she gasped, pleasure slicing through her. “Do that again,” she begged, whimpering when he complied. He kissed her again, and she shuddered, the drag of his cock inside her exquisite, igniting all her dormant nerve endings. His breath came harder as he set a new, faster rhythm, rolling his hips and stroking deep, urgent passion spreading between them and pulling them down like an undertow.
“Yes, Zack,” she panted, over and over again, losing herself in the intense, glorious fullness of his cock inside her. He thrust into her harder, and she couldn’t stop the surprised, gasping moan from escaping her mouth as an orgasm crested over her. Her body started to shake, and she clenched around him, her orgasm bursting through her in heavy throbs.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he ground out, still pumping in and out of her as she pulsed around him. “Come.”
She twisted her head and pressed her face into the mattress as he took her higher and higher with each stroke in and out of her drenched, throbbing pussy. Higher until she didn’t know what she wanted or needed. Until she couldn’t talk or think or breathe. She could only come, wave after wave of hot pleasure slamming into her.
His face pressed into her neck, he slipped a hand between their bodies and found her clit. One slide of his fingers over her wet, swollen flesh, and she clenched again, coming harder. She felt as though she’d burst open, and he thrust into her hard and deep several more times before every muscle in his body went rigid, and she felt the pulse of his cock inside her as he came.
A silence fell over the room, and for several seconds neither of them moved. Then, without a word, he pulled out of her and disappeared into her bathroom. When he returned he settled against the pillows and pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his chest, trying to breathe against the turmoil of emotions surging through her.
He trailed his fingers across her back and kissed the top of her head. “Goddamn, princess,” he said, his voice a little rusty sounding.
She smiled against his chest, her limbs boneless. “Goddamn yourself.”
He tipped her face up to his and kissed her, lingering and tender. “Thank you. That was…” His eyes were once again soft with emotion. “God, that was fucking beautiful.”
Her eyes stung, and she pressed them shut. She took a deep breath and then another, her chest squeezing as her throat thickened.
She felt good. Too good, and everything burned. Her mind spun clumsily, and her body hummed with the afterglow of what they’d just done. What she’d just done. She blinked and swallowed, holding everything back, but it was no use. He’d cracked the dam, and she wasn’t sure she could contain it, what felt like magnitudes. Her shoulders trembled slightly, and Zack’s arms tightened around her.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, stroking a hand up and down her back.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to find the words to say everything she wanted to say. A tear slipped free and rolled down over her cheek, landing on Zack’s chest.
“Shit, Alexa, did I hurt you?” With an impossibly gentle touch, he nudged her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, and full of worry.
“No. Not at all.”
He relaxed slightly. “Then what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
She chewed the inside of her lip. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”
He stroked a hand over her hair. “You can tell me anything, princess. Anything.”
It didn’t matter that her skin was prickling, or that her stomach was churning, or that her brain spun with fifty million different versions of how this could go very, very wrong. Not only did she owe it to him—to them—to tell him the truth of her past, but she found that she actually wanted to let someone in for the first time.
“You asked me in the car, the other day, about how my father had hurt me.”
The hand that had been stroking her hair stilled. “Yeah.”
“When…God, I don’t even know how to say it. It sounds so pathetic.”
Zack didn’t say anything, just kissed the top of her head. But she needed to tell him. She’d lived with it for so long, running from what had happened. She was exhausted from carrying it, from carrying the shame, the sadness, the anxiety, alone. And if they were actually going to do this, to start something together, she owed him the truth.
“When I was a teenager, he made me do things.” She raised her head and met Zack’s eyes. “He forced me to have sex with men.” The words hung in the air, heavy and loud. It was her truth. She’d used her body, had done things she’d hated, and was still dealing with the fallout, both emotional and physical.
For several seconds Zack didn’t speak. His brow furrowed and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t say anything. It was amazing the kind of eternity five seconds could contain. Finally, he cleared his throat softly. “What kind of men?”
“Directors. Producers. Sometimes so I could get a role. Sometimes so he could. Sometimes just because one of his friends wanted me.”
“Motherfucker.” He spoke the words vehemently but barely above a whisper. “God, Alexa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what he did, and I’m sorry I didn’t beat the shit out of him yesterday.”
She swallowed, absorbing his words. He hadn’t pushed her away. He knew what she’d done, and she was still in his arms.
“I’m not asking this to blame you, because clearly he’s the one at fault here. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
You didn’t do anything wrong. Such simple words, and although she’d heard them from her therapist, had even said them to herself in the mirror, she hadn’t started to believe them until they came from Zack. As though a part of her had been waiting for him, all this time.
“Asking me what?”
“Did you ever try to say no?”
She nodded, and more silent tears slipped free. “When I was seventeen, I stood up to him. He broke my arm, and I still had to do it anyway. I didn’t say no again.”
“Son of a bitch.” Another whispered curse, and his arms tightened around her. Holding her closer, not pushing her away. “Does your mom know about this?”
Alexa nodded, and she was unable to keep the resentment out of her voice. “Yeah. She knows.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling lighter the more she talked. “I think that’s why the Brotherhood stuff made sense to me as soon as I heard it. He controls everyone, and has a use for everyone. This was his use for me.” She laughed sadly. “Is his use for me, if he thinks he can just give me to Kramer. To him, I’m not his daughter. I’m a convenient whore.” Her voice broke on the last syllable, tears slipping free as she spoke the truth of how she saw herself.
“I’m so sorry,” said Zack. He brushed his nose against her cheek, and when she looked up, he kissed her, his lips firm and warm against hers. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I’m so sorry you felt trapped. I hate that he did that to you. I hate him for it.” His voice shook with anger.
“A part of me feels so stupid that I didn’t see what was happening around me. In hindsight I see it now. But I was usually too caught up in my own shame to look outside of myself.”
Zack pulled back a little and traced his thumb over her cheekbone. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You didn’t do anything wrong. He exploited you. The people who should feel ashamed are your father and those men.”
She let his words wash over her, absorbing them and basking in them as she settled back down against him, her cheek pressed to his heart. Objectively, she’d known all this. But to hear it from someone she cared about, someone she’d been vulnerable with and opened up to…Somehow it meant more and gave her the courage to keep going. To keep opening up until her entire heart was stretched wide, all of it there for him to see. “I learned how to detach during sex. How to just kind of float away until whoever was on top of me was done. It was the only way I could get through it. It didn’t feel good to me.”
“Fuck. Shit, Alexa. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He spoke the words against her temple. She’d told him her secret, the pain and darkness she carried deep inside, and the world hadn’t ended.
“It’s been lonely,” she whispered, cracking herself open with more truth. But if she didn’t open herself up, she couldn’t let any light in.
“You don’t need to be lonely. Not anymore.”
She wiped at her cheek with one hand, the tears still flowing, slowly but steadily. “I’ve never come during sex before. This…this was the first time.”
He was quiet, and she once again raised her head to look at him. He was smiling, big and wide. Not judging her, or leaving, or any of the horrible things she’d convinced herself she deserved. She laughed softly. Actually laughed, despite the scars she’d just shown him.
That was what he did to her. Orgasms aside, she felt so…God, she felt vibrant with him. Alive and happy and as if she’d found home. “You seem pretty pleased with yourself.”
He arched an eyebrow, the huge smile still in place. “You’re damn right I am.” He kissed her forehead, and then her temple, and then her mouth, slowly and sweetly. “But not because of what it says about my skills. Because of what it says about how you feel about me.”
She felt giddy and greedy and alive with the rush of relief coursing through her. “I never imagined that you and I could…I can’t even…” She shook her head, and he kissed her again. She sighed deeply, inhaling his warm, faintly musky scent. She wanted to wrap that scent around herself. Dipping her head, she kissed a slow path over his collarbone, ending at his shoulder, each kiss a tiny thank-you for understanding. For not judging. For having her back. She kissed the badly drawn dragon there, wanting every piece of him for herself.
He reached down and laced his fingers through hers, bringing their hands together over his heart. He knew the whole of her, and still wanted her. The surge of joy and relief that rushed through her was so powerful that she could’ve held up the moon.
“I don’t know what to say, Zack. I’ve never felt like this before.”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Me neither.”
She wasn’t sure how long they lay together in silence, twined around each other, basking in each other. In their connection. In the freedom of knowing the truth. It didn’t matter, because it wasn’t long enough.
“I wish I could stay.” He raised their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her fingertips one by one as he spoke. “I wish I could spend the night making you come over and over again, until neither of us can move. I wish I could fall asleep holding you. I wish I could wake up beside you. I want all of that, so badly.”
Her heart picked up its pace even though she hadn’t moved. “I wish you could stay too.” But he couldn’t, and they both knew it. He’d already stayed too long.
With a heavy sigh, he slipped away and pushed up off the bed, then picked up the condom wrapper and shoved his legs into his jeans. He gathered the rest of his things and then padded barefoot to the door, listening. After a few seconds, he crossed back toward the bed and kissed her, hard and deep.
“Good night, princess.”
He disappeared into the hallway and closed the door almost silently behind him. Alexa flopped down on the bed, feeling like a new person.
For the first time, she felt free and happy.