When in Paris... (Language of Love) (35 page)

“Oh God, Liv.”

“Hmmm.” I’m too lost in the moment to form words.

Then his mouth is on mine again, consuming me in a kiss that has my body on fire, buzzing, humming. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, going over it with his tongue. His talents and passion make for a heady combination. I’m more than smitten, and with two weeks of deprivation, past turned on.

I can’t stop my hands from moving, rubbing and stroking every place I can reach: his abs, his pecs, his shoulders, his back, his gorgeous butt.

Before I know it, he has me flat on my back on my bed. My legs instinctively part as he presses me into the mattress. I can feel how aroused he is as I arch into him.

He breaks the kiss, his breathing labored as his hips bear down on me with carnal intent and he stares down at me with smoky eyes.

“If you only knew how much I’ve missed touching you here,” he says, sliding his hand under my sweater and cupping my breast in his palm.

My breath suspends as he unclips the front closure of my bra and then catches my nipple between his fingers, toying with it until my teeth clamp down on my lip to bite back a moan. His eyes never leave mine. In the end I can’t help the whimper that escapes my lips.

Satisfied that he’s halfway to driving me insane with desire, he pushes the sweater up until my breasts are exposed to the slightly chilly air. Lowering his head, he traces around my nipple with the tip of his tongue. My hips shoot up and I bury my hands in his hair, clutching the back of his head until he takes my nipple fully into his mouth. While he’s devouring my breasts, he lowers the zipper of my jeans and slips his hand inside and beneath the flimsy fabric of my panties. Then he’s cupping me, stroking me, making me wet and stimulating me beyond endurance. Beyond pleasure. And that’s what it takes for my world to splinter into a million delicious pieces.

When I finally come down from the euphoric high of orgasm, my whole body slack and sated, Zach places a gentle kiss on the underside of my breast, then pushes up onto his forearms so I’m not taking the brunt of his weight and stares down at me.

“God, that was hot,” he murmurs in a gritty, turned-on voice.

My face blazes like a hundred forest fires and I bury my face in the crook of his neck.

I feel him shaking with muted laughter. “If we both didn’t have places we needed to be in—” he glances over at April’s clock, “—less than half an hour, not even a grenade could blast me out of this bed.”

I can tell by his condition, he means every word he says. But he’s right, we both have to go. Miss Ramsay won’t cut me any slack because I was making out with my boyfriend.

Boyfriend. I savor the word in my mind. My boyfriend.
Mine.

My next breath releases on a dreamy sigh.

Reluctantly, slowly, Zach levers himself up from over me, his not-to-be-satisfied condition unchanged. Following my ardent gaze, he looks down and then back at me with one eyebrow cocked. He chuckles and says, “Give it a few minutes.”

I can’t help but laugh while thanking the anatomy gods that, in that respect, females definitely came out on top.

Without the warmth of his body over mine, the cool air hits my bare breasts. Before I can tug my sweater down, Zach is there to help.

Ten minutes later—after another five minutes of heavy kissing and fondling, getting us both so hot and bothered I can hardly stand it—we both look presentable. Well at least we don’t look like we just tumbled out of bed.

We separate with one last kiss (to get him through his practice and me through my rehearsal) at my car.

I make it to rehearsal with three minutes to spare. But it takes another fifteen to properly erase the grin from my face and get into character.

***

ZACH

In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving break, life is crazy. My time is split—not evenly—between football, studying and Olivia. And not in that order.

We’re spending as much time together as our busy schedules allow, mostly at my apartment where she tends to be every night. I’ve tried to get her to spend the night but she says it’d be too awkward having to face Troy in the morning.

It’s amazing to me, that given how many times and ways we’ve done it, she’s still a little shy after. Like she’s still not used to everything we do in bed or that she’s not completely comfortable in front of me naked. I tease her about it but secretly I find it a total turn on. Call me a chauvinist pig but I love that my girlfriend becomes completely uninhibited in bed but just to look at her, the way she carries herself, no one else would ever know.

After spending the last two days smoldering under Florida’s relentless sun and getting knocked on my ass too many times to count—hate those bloody blitzes—our team comes home with a win. I’m just glad to be back period. Yeah palm trees and sun is a nice change from the cold weather that’s gripped New York, but snatched phone calls throughout the day and texting is nothing compared to being able to see, touch and kiss Olivia, which is something I’ve been looking forward to since the day I left.

I get to her dorm by four and as usual, a girl lets me in—someone always lets me in. By now I’m familiar with Olivia's and April’s schedule and I know April won’t be back until tonight and Olivia should already be in her room. I tried to call her twice since I got back but she didn’t answer and hasn’t.

When I knock on her door, no one answers.

“
She’s not back from class.”

I glance to my right and one of her suite mates—Janet or Janice—is standing in the doorway of the room next to Olivia’s. It’s about fifty degrees outside and the dorms are heated but only just. Suffice it to say, it’s definitely not shorts weather. But the chick is wearing a short-sleeved blouse, sporting a whole lotta cleavage.

“
Uh, thanks. I’ll wait.” I’m already reaching into my pocket for my cell phone.

“
So are you a football player?” she asks, venturing farther out. Her jeans are so tight, I’m sure it’s hard for her to swallow. The first time I saw her, around the second or third time I was here, I pegged her as the kind of pretty girl who knows exactly how pretty she is and is completely ruthless when she wants something—or someone.

The predatory look in her brown eyes indicates she’s seen her prey and she’s moving in for the kill. I stifle a smile. I’ve met her type before, even slept with one before realizing they’re just not
my
type. She’s wasting her time on me.

“
What tipped you off?” The football letters on my jacket? You’d think she’d be experienced enough to think of another line. Note to self: Mention to Liv that her next-door neighbor has no problem trying to steal her boyfriend.

“
Do you—?”

My finger motions pointedly to the phone at my ear. With a silent “o”, her mouth slams shut, precisely the way I like it.

Just as my call to Olivia is going into her voicemail—for the third time today—I see her coming down the hall. She doesn’t immediately see me, her attention on the guy at her side. The guy from the party I accused her of flirting with to make me jealous. The idiot who looks like he forgot his surfboard in California.

Seeing them together, his head angled down toward hers, their body language tells me they’re both intent on their conversation. So intent in fact, that she doesn’t see me standing in front of her door, my shoulder propped up against the wall, my right hand clutching my cell, having ended the call she had been too busy to answer. And now I know why.

As if sensing my presence, her head turns and her eyes meet mine. Her hazel eyes instantly widen, lighting up as a smile spreads across her face. For a second I forget who she’s with. All I feel is my stomach clench, the increased beat of my heart. Those eyes, that smile, her beautiful face and that make-me-wanna-spend-a-week-in-her-bed body does it to me every time.

“
Zach!” she cries, her expression surprised and excited.

While surfer boy beside her slows down, her pace picks up as she hurries toward me. Now the only thing I’m thinking about is kissing her.

Pushing myself off the wall, the tension gone from my body, I catch her tight to my chest as she practically hurls herself at me. She’s kissing me, my neck, my unshaven jaw—because I didn’t take the time to shave today—wherever she can reach. I bend my head to accommodate her height and crush her against me and capture her parted lips in a kiss that’s hot, wet and deep and all the more potent considering how brief it is.

Cognizant that we have an audience, I break the kiss with the firm intention of taking our reunion into the privacy of her room. And if the kiss lets surfer guy know what’s what, so much the better. I don’t think she’s cheating with him but I do want to know what she’s doing with him. There’s no way I trust this guy.

“
I didn’t think you’d be back this early.” Her voice is breathy and soft, and she’s looking at me like she can’t get enough. Big time turn-on. I’m wondering how long it’s going to take to get her out of her clothes.

“
I’ve been trying to call you.” I hold up my cell phone while keeping my other hand around her waist, never breaking the contact.

For a second, her eyes go wide. Her gaze then flies to her backpack and her hand. “I’m sorry, my cell must have died. I forgot to charge it last night but I didn’t want to leave it in my room in case I missed your call.”

Then as if she just remembered him, she turns to surfer boy, her expression suddenly uneasy. Her gaze darts up at me and then back to him. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

Her next-door neighbor steps back into her room, but she doesn’t close the door, content to watch the upcoming event from the sideline.

“
Scott, this is my boyfriend Zach.” Her introduction is halting and awkward at best.

Scott advances toward us, his expression guarded, not friendly at all. “Hey,” he grunts with a tip of his chin. I return the gesture without the sound effects.

Silence.

“
Scott—I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Olivia’s trying to act like everything’s normal but it’s obvious it’s not, which has me studying her more intently.
What the hell is going on?

“
Right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he says, clearly uneasy. With that, he turns and leaves, straight past the girls who haven’t managed to make it into their rooms yet, too busy gawking at him.

Her next-door neighbor’s door closes with a thud.
Show’s over. Nothing to see here. You can all move on now.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Olivia watches me closely as she blindly unlocks her door. I don’t say anything and follow her in.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
IVE

OLIVIA

“What was he doing here?” Zach’s question is deceptively benign.

I tell him the truth. “He’s Rebecca’s ex. But I didn’t know that when I met him. Actually, our brothers are friends. They work for the same company.”

“Right, but what was he doing here with you? Were you bringing him to your room?”

“He caught me coming out of my class. He wanted to talk, give me his side of the breakup with Rebecca. We ended up walking back here together.” Okay, that didn’t sound kosher and the crease in Zach’s forehead tells me as much. “Look, it’s nothing. There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re thinking.”

His jaw starts working and he angles his head a little to the side. Stance wide-legged and his arms folded across his chest, he asks bluntly, “Was he coming on to you?”

Honesty is the best policy, my mother always says, but in this case I’m not sure I agree. “He knows I’m seeing you.” The truth is I don’t know exactly what Scott wants although from some of the questions he asked me, I’m starting to get the feeling his interest isn’t me but Rebecca. But I could be wrong. Anyway, even if Scott is interested in me and I wasn’t with Zach, there’s no way I would get in the middle of whatever bad blood has spilled between him and Rebecca.

Zach’s eyes narrow to a squint. “Why won’t you answer my question?”

“Because it shouldn’t matter if he’s trying to get with me or not because I’m with you. He and I aren’t getting together and that’s it.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to lead him on?”

“I’m not leading him on.”

Before I can say anything else, his phone starts to ring. Zach pulls it from his pocket and jabs his finger on the screen, rendering it silent.

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you, especially when I haven’t seen you in two days. Scott may have wanted to get to know me better before…well before he knew I’m good friends with his ex, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think of me that way now. Plus—”

I close the distance between us, my hands curved over his shoulders. I tip my head back to look up into his eyes.

“—I told him I’m with you.”

His expression softens and he visibly relaxes. Threading my hands through the silky black strands near his temple, I palm the back of his head, pulling him down. Once his mouth is within reach, I kiss first his bottom lip and then the top, whisper kisses that give little but promise a lot.