Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets) (12 page)

“Hey, it’s okay to tell me exactly what you want.” His voice drops to a seductive level and my whole body rushes with warmth from his initiative.

“CALL ME IF HE TRIES
any funny business.” Libby grips my shoulders, her bony fingers digging into my flesh. “But not if it’s the good kind.” She giggles and Wes looks over while he’s talking with Pete outside of the van.

“Okay, Lib.” I peer over at Zach leaning against his truck with his phone out. As though he senses my eyes, he looks up and winks at me. A rush of warmth erupts in my stomach. Will I ever stop swooning over him?

“He’s gorgeous, Marisa. Forget what I said, go … have fun.” She twists me around and lightly pushes me toward Zach. “I expect you back at that hotel no sooner than tomorrow morning.” She laughs louder this time, earning Zach’s sexy grin. I shake my head, never turning back around to her.

When I approach the truck, my body begs me to push against his and allow the safety of his arms to wrap around mine in a comforting hug. He kicks off the truck and quickly opens the passenger door. “Mom okay with you coming over?” he jokes, and I roll my eyes in amusement.

Sadly, he goes along the back of the truck to his side, so I’m unable to admire him unknowingly. He starts the truck and I cross my legs, realizing I have no purse or form of I.D. on me. I shoved money in my jacket earlier in case I needed anything, but didn’t want the worry of carrying anything else other than my phone.

“Can we just swing by the hotel, so I can grab my purse?” I ask, biting my lip, as though he’s my dad and I’m a teenager asking to borrow the car for the night.

He glances over and then faces forward again, turning right onto the main road. “You don’t need anything, plus I don’t want to be suckered into anything.” He mumbles the last part and I inch closer to catch it, but I am unable.

“Why are you always at the hotel?” My ears are on high alert, because it’s been something I haven’t quite figured out. Then he’s the tour guide today? I don’t get it.

His fingers stop from strumming to the beat of the music along the steering wheel and his knuckles turn white as his palms grip the roundness in his hands. “We’ll get to that, but let’s get back to my house first.”

Figuring the conversation of his profession seems to be a sour subject with him, I decide to admire the new scenery until he’s ready to divulge the truth.

A half hour later, Zach pulls onto a dirt road with lines of trees on either side of us that seem to reach the sky they’re so tall. It half resembles my vision of where an axe murderer would hide a body, or a horror movie where someone’s lurking behind the trees, waiting to kill people. When the tree scene widens and a circle driveway lies in front of the most modern but traditional looking log cabin, those thoughts drift to happiness and contentment. Hard to explain, maybe it’s the satellite dish or the solar paneling on top. The propane grill on the deck that faces the lake with a swing hanging from the overhang. It’s a classic with new twists. Regardless if it’s modern or rustic, it’s a breathtaking sight.

“Here you go.” With my admiration of the surroundings, I never realized Zach parked and got out. I accept his hand and climb out of the truck.

“Zach, it’s beautiful,” I inform him and he nods, agreeing with me.

“Thank you. I worked long and hard on it, so I’m glad you like it.” I want to go on that I don’t just like it, I love it. Like want to move in tomorrow, love it. I can’t even pinpoint the heavenly feeling that’s washing over me. I can’t fathom to wake up and not see the view of the lake with the large trees and wildlife mingling around every morning. I haven’t ever felt this comfortable somewhere else besides my childhood home, but scaring him on our first real date wouldn’t bode well for a second.

“Work on it? Did you build it?” I ask as he guides me up the wooden stairs that lead to the front door. You’d think being so close to a lake would give it a fishy smell, but I only smell the trees, the crisp clean air and nature as a whole.

“Yeah, but I had a lot of help though.” He inserts the key while I’m unable to move from my position at the railing, watching the low waves ripple across the lake. “I can assure you the scenery is a lot better inside,” he softly says in my ear, igniting goose bumps to rise up my spine.

I giggle and turn around, allowing his arms to cage me in again. I’m not sure he could ever make me feel unsafe; he has this guardian persona that envelopes me. “Really?” I joke and he nods his head, grabbing my hand.

“Come on, see for yourself.” He leads the way to his door and waits for me to enter first.

Rustic and cozy, the perfect mix. Although you can tell it’s definitely a man’s place, you still want to kick off your shoes and plop on the couch all night in the arms of the man who owns it. The very manly surroundings confirm there was no woman who ever lived here prior, which elates my heart a little, that he never cared enough to have a live-in girlfriend.

I’m happy there aren’t any dead animal heads on the walls to stare down at me. “Please.” He holds his hand out in the air as an invitation to look around and tosses his keys on a stand by the door. I watch him walk around the brown leather couch and disappear around a corner. “Do you want something to drink?” he calls out and I follow the sound of his voice.

When I round the corner, there are floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at the lake. A small table with four chairs rests in the kitchen eating area before it opens up to a nice grandiose kitchen full of all the bells and whistles any professional cook would desire. My mouth hangs open due to the amount of stainless steel. After everything else, he’s a chef, too? “Don’t get excited. I’m not a cook,” he admits, opening a bottle of white wine.

“You’re not?” I ask, because I wouldn’t know how to make toast in this place.

“Nah, but when I hired my decorator, she did it.” A twinge of disappointment rises that indeed there was a woman before me in his personal space. “She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. So I stripped most of what she did and redid it myself. The kitchen … well, I just figured what the hell, maybe someday I’ll learn to cook.” He definitely doesn’t seem the type to use a decorator, but if I’ve figured out anything about Zach Greer, it’s not to underestimate him in any way. He pours the glasses and I breathe easier, walking to the stools that line the counter top. He scoots a full glass of wine across the island to me and I pick it up gingerly, careful not to spill. This could be one of those moments when I make a horrible embarrassment of myself.

Grabbing his drink, Zach walks around the edge of the counter until he's standing before me. He sets his glass on the cool granite beside me and I spread my legs, granting him permission to come closer. His hands grip my knees and my back arches when he slowly runs them up my thighs, stepping into me. My hand shakes as I raise my wine to my mouth and take a small sip. The pool of desire I’ve been fighting all morning crashes through me, demanding a release.

“I think I've held off long enough, don't you?” he says. His piercing blue eyes bore into mine as he tightens his grip on my legs, tugging me forward until my butt is teetering on the edge of the chair. I set my glass down and snake my arms around his neck.

“I guess you've been a good boy,” I croon, fisting my hand in his hair, dragging his mouth to mine.

“Mmm,” he mumbles, pulling back a fraction. I whimper at the loss of his soft lips and he chuckles. “Dirty talk. I like it,” he says, slamming his mouth down on mine. His tongue traces the seam of my mouth and my lips part. Delving in more, our tongues collide and without breaking our connection, Zach slips his arm under my butt, lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist and I grind myself against the bulge that is nestled at my core. “
Fuck
,” he grunts, and I smile against his mouth.
I love that I do that to him.

My surroundings are a blur as Zach walks us through the house and up a flight of stairs. “Open it,” he says, backing me up against the cool wood. With one hand in his hair, I slide the other down the door until it connects with the knob and I twist, pushing the door open. “Good girl,” he murmurs, peeling his lips from mine. Glancing around the room, I take in my surroundings. It's rustic, in a warm sort of way. Windows span the far wall and I gasp at the view of the lake. A large flat screen television is nestled against the adjacent wall and I smile at how manly it looks—chocolate walls, accented with a snow-white comforter.

Walking toward the bed, Zack sits me on the edge and I instantly reach for the zipper of my jacket. “No,” he says, stopping my movements. “I've been thinking about undressing you all day.” With another boost to my ego that he likes my naked body and wants to explore it again, my heart begins to repair. Gently, he pushes my hand out of the way and I watch with rapt attention as he slowly starts to undress me. Not stopping at my jacket, his strong hands grab the hem of my sweater, pulling it over my head, along with my t-shirt. I'm sitting before him in nothing but a blue sheer bra from the waist up, and the hungry look in his eyes makes me feel sexy as hell.

“You're gorgeous,” he says, trailing his knuckles over the swells of my breast. As great as this is, I'm dying to get his clothes off. With his greedy eyes roaming my body, I slide off the bed, standing before him. The side of his mouth ticks up in a mischievous grin as I reach for the hem of his shirt. He lifts his arms as I slide it over his head, dropping it behind him. My fingers skim down the planes of chiseled abs, only stopping when they reach the button of his jeans, which I pop in one quick motion. His hardened length is bulging against the seam of his zipper and I can't wait any longer. I have to see him. Tugging on the zipper, I pull it down, followed by his pants and he's left before me in nothing but his grey boxer briefs.

I splay my palms against his chest and lean down to pepper kisses across his broad chest. He sucks in a quick breath when my mouth closes over his nipple and I smile against his skin. Warm hands skim across my abdomen, and when I sink my teeth into his pec, he's shoves my pants past my hips, letting them pool at my feet.

“I want you.” His voice is low and husky, and does nothing but start a fire deep in my belly, a fire that only he can put out. I squeeze my thighs together, but it doesn't help.
I need him
. Kicking the pants off of my feet, I sit on the bed, scooting back until I'm in the middle.

“Then come and get me.” I’m going for seductive, and it must work because in the blink of an eye, Zach climbs onto the bed and crawls forward until the full weight of his body pushes me into the soft mattress. I feel like he's a predator and I'm his prey. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I bite down, almost wanting to run away just to make him catch me. Maybe another time ... like in an hour.

His sapphire eyes are shining as they drink me in, and he runs his thumb along my lip, pulling it from my teeth. “That turns me on,” he says, fusing our mouths together. Our tongues meet, instantly battling for control. Control that I'm willing to give up. My body writhes beneath him, aching for the connection that it so desperately needs. Gripping my braid, he slides the elastic band until the intricate twist starts to unfold. Sliding his hand into my hair, he brushes it with his fingers, freeing it from its hold. “I like you wild and free.” His words stir the deep feral side of me and I fight against the urge to take charge of this sexscapade, the urge to show him how carefree I can be. But I don't, choosing to remain the good girl, allowing him to control my pleasure.

Closing my eyes, I repeat my mantra in my head. I want to be different. I want to be the seductress, and make him crave me. Nate's words ring loud in my head.
Who wants a dead fish that just lays there like you?

Zack feathers kisses along my cheeks, and the corner of my mouth. “You still with me?” I squeeze my eyes, holding it in, desperate to tell him what is going through my head, but I can't, fearful that he'll cross me off and call me out on being someone I'm not. “Talk to me,” he says, sitting up and I roll to my side, needing a reprieve. I hate that I'm letting this negativity consume me, but I can't help it.

Pushing his warm front against my back, Zach spoons me, wrapping me in his arms. I can see our reflection in his flat screen and I'm amazed at how well we fit together. My body is nuzzled so perfectly into his and it just feels ... right. His warm breath fans the side of my face when he speaks. “Please, Marisa,” he pleads, unaware of how far he is pushing me, of how badly I want to give in. “Trust me. Let me in.”

“I'm not who you think I am. I'm the good one, the predictable one. I'm the one who
always
does the right thing. I'm far from wild
or
free.” He stays quiet and I continue on. “I do to-do lists every day. The calendar on my phone is the most used app ... along with the alarm. My whole life has been a routine that I never veer away from.” I watch him closely through the television, wondering if he's doing the same. I'm waiting for him to pull away from me, but he doesn't.

Nuzzling the side of my neck, he places a soft kiss at the base of my ear. “Do you think I want some crazy party woman?” he asks, chuckling softly. I don't laugh and he notices. He rubs his hands over my arms. “Marisa, whoever you are inside is who I want. Show it to me, because what I see in the small amount of time we've known each other, is a warm and caring friend. A trusting girl to a guy she barely knows. A beautiful and sexy woman I can’t stop craving.” He kisses my neck and I relax into him, absorbing his warmth, never wanting to leave.