Or, he supposed, she could kiss him like she hadn’t pushed him away for kissing her.
Zack didn’t think twice. Perhaps that was his problem. He hadn’t done much thinking lately. But, for once, it was a good thing. Because not thinking meant he was ready to grab Rachel and kiss her so hard that they would both see stars for the rest of the night.
The same stars exploding behind his eyelids right now. Because it was impossible to kiss Rachel with his eyes open. He had to close them and savor every delicate second passing…
Oh. And the tongue in his mouth. He should probably savor that too.
Well! Someone had upped the ante!
“Mmf!” That was not a protest bubbling in her throat. That was encouragement. Namely, encouragement to shove her against the wall and kiss her until they ran out of breath.
Few women kissed him this passionately. Few women made him feel like the billion dollars some of the money magazines said he had in trust funds sprinkled across numerous foreign accounts. Few women could kiss Zack and awaken one of the most dormant feelings inside of him.
A kiss hadn’t been this mind blowing since…
Few women were able to remind him of that faraway love and make him blissfully forget at the same time.
God only knew where this was going to go next. They were in Rachel’s apartment building, for fuck’s sake. Zack was getting harder by the second and he was famished enough to rip off her clothes right there in the lobby. From the way she let herself go all over him, Rachel was this close to inviting him up to her place… and into her body.
I’m going to fuck you so hard that we…
“Whoa!”
Reality came crashing back down when a man in clubbing gear stepped out of the stairwell and stumbled upon their hot and heavy make-out session by the front door.
“Oh my God!” Rachel grabbed her bag off the floor and took off for the stairwell. Zack was left to stand in utter disbelief while a man gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up.
“Nice, man! Have had my eye on that one for a few weeks now!”
Zack snatched the picnic basket he had dropped, glared at the high-as-fuck cockblocker, and left the building. He had a feeling that going after Rachel was the wrong thing to do.
***
Oh, it was.
Rachel locked her door behind her before sitting in her dark apartment. That… that happened. He had kissed her. She had kissed him.
And it was good. So damn good.
This was a woman who didn’t have the best opinions about kissing. It was a function of affection and sexual expression. Most men (and women, honestly) were terrible kissers. They used too much tongue. They sucked her lips. They slathered her face in drool or simply stood there like robots, expecting her to do all the work.
Not Zack. Zachary Feldman was a master kisser. Whatever happened down there? It had been enough to tell Rachel that he would be a master in many other ways, too.
I mean, I totally felt his dick against my thigh. Addled Rachel was this close to grabbing it like she had every right to.
The man was a walking aphrodisiac. She knew that the first time she saw him in Opal’s. Like she knew he would be nothing but trouble for her.
It was a godsend that one of her pothead neighbors interrupted them. It had been enough time for Rachel to regain her senses and get the hell out of there before she did something she would regret.
Now? It was two hours later, and she was wrapped up in bed, cell phone close to her chest. She had never taken off Zack’s sweatshirt.
But she had taken off her jeans. Because nothing said more good ideas like wearing nothing but her undies and a man’s sweatshirt to bed. Even better? She kept checking her phone for a message.
A message that never came.
I fucked up. Oh my God. He’ll never want to see me again now. Just as well! Hadn’t Rachel made a promise to herself? To not get romantically or sexually involved with anyone for a whole two months? What kind of sorry shit was she if she couldn’t go a whole two months without getting into bed with someone?
I was going to ride him like a cowgirl. Damn! Could she get any more embarrassing?
Probably. She could start by texting Parvati. Not to tell her about what happened, but to thank her for coming to the movie so Rachel didn’t have to be alone with Zack.
She knew it was dangerous to be alone with him. Now it was even more dangerous.
Rachel eventually fell asleep with her nose buried in Zack’s sweatshirt. To say she had some of the naughtiest dreams of her life was a severe understatement. The poor dear woke up so sexually frustrated that she screamed into her pillow.
It didn’t make her feel any better.
Chapter 10
Usually, when Zack faced a particular personal crisis on the level of What the hell do I do now? he either took to expressing his frustrations through art… or ran to the marina to hang out on his yacht all day, busying himself with the kind of upkeep he hated paying other people to do.
Upkeep for his apartment? He would hire five different crews to rotate on a daily basis if it meant he never had to make his bed, clean his toilet, or vacuum the floors. But when it came to his precious Priss & Moan, he was the only one allowed to do anything aside from major overhauls. Even then, he insisted on being there every step of the way. I take care of my yacht more than I would my own children. Probably why he was in no hurry to have children, if ever.
Early Sunday morning, it was easy to decide what to do. With Uncle Roy in town, there was only one option.
“You look like you got hit by a tugboat!” Roy cried the moment he saw his nephew on the bow of his yacht. “Don’t tell me you spent the whole night partying.”
“Nope.” Zack tucked his phone into his back pocket and crossed over onto his uncle’s vessel. Roy was in the midst of doing his laundry. Like Zack didn’t want anyone touching his boat, Uncle Roy didn’t want no man or woman cleaning his things. Besides, he didn’t have much to begin with. What money he didn’t keep tucked away in his accounts went straight into his boat and the multiple trips he took around the world. Most people wouldn’t even be able to guess that he was the Roy Feldman, the rightful heir to the great Feldman Steel legacy who gave it all up to buy a yacht and piss off into the horizon. Most of his clothes and the supplies he kept inside were cheaply made since he went through them so quickly that he didn’t see the point of investing in better clothing.
Today he wore a thin blue tank top with multiple tears along the seams and a pair of gray cargo shorts stuffed with handheld tools and power bar wrappers. The most expensive thing on him was his water proof watch. That could be me one day. Tanned, gray-haired, and smelling of the sea no matter how much he bathed. Once, when Zack was in high school, he idolized his uncle for the life he lived. Now? He was happy to have him back in port whenever he made the trip around the world.
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” Zack sat out of his uncle’s way as he went to work hanging up his clothes to air dry. He claims it makes them fresher. In truth, Uncle Roy probably didn’t want to take his clothes to the local laundromat. Besides, wherever he went, the sun shined strongly enough to dry his clothes within a few hours. It was going to be a nice, warm Sunday. “Been having a weird week.”
Roy glanced at him in between hanging up a pair of boxer shorts and one of his favorite linen shirts. “One of those art things you do?” He may not have been the most articulate when it came to talking about his nephew’s career, but he never shat on it. Not like the rest of the Feldmans whenever the subject came up. “Nothing clears the mind like a day out at sea, son. When’s the last time you went out for a trip around the bay?”
While the city wasn’t considered coastal, per se, it was only a half hour jaunt downriver to get to the Atlantic. Even now, so early in the morning, boats of all sizes took off from port and headed downriver. “Too long, honestly. Guess I haven’t been in the mood. Or too busy.”
“Then do it! Or let’s do it after lunch, eh? Or we could do it before lunch.” Roy grinned at him. “Order it in and enjoy it while we soak up the sun and listen to the gulls. I hear some whales were spotted not too far out from here. You know how lucky I am getting them to come portside.”
Zack admitted it sounded tempting. He might even take his uncle up on the offer. The farther I get away from land, the easier it will be to clear my head. That’s what he told himself, anyway. And why wouldn’t he? That’s usually how it worked out.
“Anyway, it’s not my art.” Although it went hand-in-hand with his current conundrum. “Guess you could say it’s a woman.”
Roy stood up straight and clicked his tongue at his nephew. “I keep forgetting how young you still are.”
“I’m almost thirty.”
“And it wasn’t until I was forty-six that I finally stopped chasing tail, son.” Roy picked up his laundry basket, turned it over, and sat down near his nephew. “So who’s the latest lady you’re seeing?”
“I’m not really seeing her. We’re… friends… I guess.”
Roy cringed. “Ooh. Good luck with that.”
Zack wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to unload everything in his head regarding Rachel and how their “friendship” had gone so far.
Then his uncle gave him that pitiful look. Here went nothing.