Embrace (9 page)

             
“Look at me Grace.” He breathes, turning my face so that my eyes meet his. “Are you that unsure of me?” He asks, clearly catching my uneasiness but not missing the way my body reacts to his either.

             
“I'm that unsure of myself.” My voice comes out just above a whisper.

             
“It's okay.” He says, trailing his fingers down my arm causing my skin to prickle.

             
“Is it?” I ask, unable to break away from his eyes.

             
This is the moment. The one where I need to make a decision. Do I jump back in head first and pray to god that it turns out differently this time or do I attempt to walk away knowing I will never be able to actually do it? I know that the second his lips touch mine, I will hold no power to resist him. And yet as his face slowly begins to lower to mine, I can't stop him.

             
Because no matter how unsure I am about all this or how much I want to fight it, the truth still remains.... I want this man. I want him despite the fact that I know I shouldn't. I want him and I know myself well enough to know that when I want something this badly, I lose all ability to see anything but. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter that he hurt me or that he holds the power to not only destroy me but also my relationship with my brother. All that matters is that when I am with him, I feel alive. And for someone who has spent years feeling dead, feeling alive is worth every risk and then some.

             
“It is.” He answers, his breath hot and sweet against my face as his lips trail lightly against mine. “Fuck. It has to be.” He grinds out against my lips as he takes them more forcefully.

             
That's all it takes for my entire body to melt into his arms. I should know better by now. Fighting this will only delay the inevitable. Right or wrong, it doesn't matter how we do it. The only thing that matters is this. The way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he feels. But even more importantly, the way he makes me feel.

Chapter Ten

             
A throat clearing in the distance pulls me from my Zayne induced fog long enough to remember that we are not alone. Pushing Zayne back, he reluctantly peels his body far enough away from mine so that he can turn around.

             
“
So sorry to interrupt sir but your dinner is ready.” Sam says, nodding in apology.

             
“Thank you.” Zayne answers, turning his attention back to me. “Hungry?” He asks, a boyish smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

             
“Starving.” I admit, though I don't specify that it's not really food that I want. As if reading my mind, Zayne shakes his head at me playfully and then leads me to the front of the boat where a small white table has been dressed for dinner for two.

             
“You never told me where we are going.” I remind him as I take a seat in the chair that Sam pulls out for me.

             
“There doesn't have to be a destination to make the trip worthwhile.” He says, laughing lightly at my reaction. “Now eat, before your food gets cold.” He says, pointing to the covered silver platter in front of me.

             
While I am sure that I am not the only woman to ever feel this way about a man, I find it quite difficult to believe that many like Zayne actually exist in this world. He's crude and funny, smart and sweet, challenging and even more infuriating. And yet, as he watches me eat my grilled salmon and potatoes, I can't help but appreciate everything about him, the good along with the bad.

             
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks, playfully pointing his fork at me over the table.

             
“Like what?” I ask innocently, taking a small drink of champagne and leaning back in my chair.

             
“Like that.” He gestures to my goofy smile while trying to fight his own.

             
“Just enjoying the view I guess.” I say, swirling the bubbling liquid in my glass and watching it fizz for a moment before meeting his eyes once more.

             
“What do you want Grace?” He asks, the playfulness falling away, replaced by an intensity that has me squirming under his glare.

             
“I want a lot of things Zayne. Perhaps you should be more specific.” I smile, finishing off the liquid in my glass before leaning forward and setting it on the table.

             
“You know what I'm asking Grace. Don't play games.” He says, his expression remaining unreadable. My stomach twists with nerves and I find it hard to meet his eyes.

             
“I'm not playing games. I'm not entirely sure I would know how to
play
even if I wanted to.” I admit, leaning forward and placing my elbows on the edge of the table.

             
“What do you want Grace?” He asks again.

             
It's obvious that he wants something specific from me but for the life of me, I can't figure out what. Not really knowing what else to say, I opt for the truth.

             
“You.” I say, meeting his eyes and holding firm. “You want to know what I want, well that's it. I want you Zayne. I want you even when I don't want to want you.” I say, my voice coming out surprisingly calm considering the storm of nerves raging inside of me.

             
He pushes back in his chair and studies me intently for what feels like forever before a slow smile finally creeps across his face. Without saying anything, he quickly stands.

             
Holding his hand out for me, I take it without hesitation and let him lead me across the deck, our half eaten dinner left abandoned behind us.

             
I struggle to keep up with his quick pace but when he pushes his way through the door that leads below deck and starts down the hall towards the bedrooms, me trailing behind him, my heart feels like it might beat out of my chest.

             
Without a word he pushes his way inside the master bedroom and slams the door the moment I cross the threshold. He spins towards me and backs me against the door, his face just inches from mine.

             
I can feel every curve of his body, every ripple of muscle. I can feel his heart beating and his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath as he studies my face. Running the back of his hand down my cheek, his fingers lightly graze my bottom lip, his eyes studying his own actions while I try my damnedest not to melt at the look on his face or the way he sucks in his bottom lip and gnaws it with his teeth like he's fighting to hold back something.

             
“Zayne.” My voice comes out a whisper.

             
“Shhh. Don't say anything. This is perfect.” He says on a staggered breath. “God Grace, you are perfect.” He grinds, finally taking my mouth in a rough heated kiss that has my hands flying to his hair and holding on for dear life as if the feeling of him against me is enough to give me the power of flight.

             
I can't fight the tremble of my hands or the quiver of my body as his tongue works slow circles against mine. He tastes sweet, like champagne, and it tastes so much better on him then out of some fancy glass.

             
“God, I've missed you.” He growls against my mouth, hoisting me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he grinds his hips into me.

             
“What do you want Grace?” His words are broken as he trails hot, wet kisses down my neck and across the top of my collar bone.

             
“You.” I moan out when he nips the sensitive flesh at the base of my neck with his teeth. “I want you.” I repeat when he pulls back to meet my eyes.

             
As if those words combined with this moment are his undoing, I can see his control slipping away. I can feel it in the way his hands grip me tighter, in the way his breathing seems impossibly fast, and in the way that he can't seem to get enough of tasting every inch of my exposed flesh.

             
Pulling me away from the door, my legs still wrapped around his waist, he crosses the distance of the room in three long strides and collapses on top of the bed, my body wedged between him and the mattress.

             
The dress that I cursed over when Emma brought it out, now clings to my body like a second skin, allowing me to feel every inch of his body as his weight presses me further into the bed.

             
With each movement, the material rides further and further up my body until my lower half is completely exposed beneath a pair of black thong underwear. Trailing his hand down my torso and across my hip bone, it doesn't take Zayne long to realize this too.

             
Hitching his finger in the skinny band at my hip, he gives it a quick tug and I can feel the material rip away. I want to protest, yell at him for ruining my most comfortable sexy thong but honestly, I can't find it in me to care. Especially when I hear the zipper of his suit pants followed by the smooth hardness of him pressed against my most sensitive area.

             
Without breaking away from my lips, he gently pushes himself inside me, like he can't possibly wait another second to feel me against him, around him. The thought sends me even more over the edge with lust and desire.

             
Every movement is skilled and hits me at the perfect pace, the perfect position, rubbing me in just the right spot that has me clawing at his back and unable to control my cries of pleasure within minutes.

             
Hooking his arm under the back of my leg, he positions it on his shoulder and quickens his pace, moving in and out of me in a hard pounding rhythm that has my body scooting further and further up the bed with each plunge.

             
I can feel the build awakening every nerve ending in my body, heightened even more by the small growls and curses that are a never ending flow from Zayne's mouth.

             
“Tell me what you want Grace.” He pants as his pace increases even more, his hand gripping my hip and giving me no choice but to take all of him.

             
The feeling of being too stretched and too full is only out shined by the volcanic ache now working it's way through my lower belly and threatening to erupt.

             
“I. Want. You.” I manage to get out in broken words, gripping the back of his neck with one hand, I trail the other down the side of his face. “Only you. Always you.” Leaves my mouth in a whisper and as much as I want to stop the words flowing from me, I can't find the power to do it.

             
I am seconds away from pronouncing my love to him when the powerful build inside of me causes my throat to seize up and my body to tighten beneath him.

             
“Don't hold back on me now.” He purrs against my mouth before taking my lips roughly with his and plunging his tongue deep inside.

             
As if knowing that this would send me over the edge, I explode around him, my entire body quivering and shaking beneath him. My release is all it takes to send him over the edge as well and he cries out my name with one final thrust before his body collapses on top of mine.

             
Completely spent and in no hurry to move, I wrap my arms around him and slowly trail my fingers up and down his back. I can feel his breathing start to calm and his heartbeat slow and yet he makes no attempt to remove his body from mine.

             
After what feels like an eternity and yet not long enough at the same time, he finally pushes himself off of me and rolls to his back, pulling my body into his so that I am curled against his chest.

             
“Do you really not know how badly I want you?” I ask, not sure if he will understand my question.

             
He hesitates for a moment as if considering how to answer and then looks down at my face. “I needed to hear you say it.” He says, reaching out to push my matted hair away from my forehead.

             
“And why is that?” I ask, suspecting that if I push hard enough, he just might answer. I can tell by his hesitation and the two deep breathes that he takes before speaking, that whatever he's about to say is not something he's used to talking about.

             
“I've never been in love before Grace, but that doesn't mean I haven't wanted. I have wanted in ways that I had no right to. I have only ever been really involved with one other person. As far as something you might classify as a relationship. I didn't bother to question whether she wanted me, I just assumed she did. I was a stupid kid.” He says, shaking his head and turning his eyes to the ceiling.

             
Deciding that I can't just let this go and that getting him to open up to me might be exactly what we both need, I continue to push for more.

             
“Hey.” I say, waiting for him to meet my eyes again before continuing. “Tell me.” I plead softly, trying to give him the reassurance he needs in my voice.

             
“It's stupid.” He says, shrugging his shoulders lightly. When I don't break my contact with him, he lets out a loud sigh and looks back up at the ceiling but surprisingly he continues.

             
“When I was seventeen I became involved with my best friend's girlfriend. I know how wrong that was now but back then... Well, I was blinded by lust and greed and fueled by jealously. I wanted what they had so I tried to steal it. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't wrong because she wanted me just as much as I wanted her. That it meant the same to her.” He takes a deep breath and then continues.

             
“It had been going on for months. Everyday me and Chad would hang out at school, play basketball at his parents, race our cars through the old abandoned horse track a couple of miles outside of town. Just the typical stupid shit teenage boys do. But then I would make some lame excuse about needing to be home early and I would bail on him. Only I didn't go home, I went to see her.”

             
“I knew that eventually things would come out but I held on to the ridiculousness that I could continue to do whatever I wanted for however long I wanted and it was okay because I was who she wanted, not him. He was the one she pranced around with, the boy that her parents approved of. I was too cocky, too rough around the edges for someone as classy as her. What a fucking joke.” He lets out a rough laugh.

             
“What happened?” I ask when he falls silent for a moment.

             
“She got pregnant.” He says, exhaling loudly. “She told me first. Said it was mine. But when I tried to take responsibility, she shut me down. She said I couldn't be the father even if biologically the child was mine. That Chad would leave her and her parents would disown her. She was prepared to walk away and let another man raise my child because even she didn't think I was good enough. I thought she wanted me, I thought I was enough for her. Turns out, I wasn't.”