“Come for me,” Zach commands. “Right fucking now.”
And I do.
I come all over his face. The orgasm tears through me, and my back arches as my hands claw at the wood of the desk. A muffled moan spills into the crook of my elbow as I come against his mouth. He doesn’t let up. He licks me through it, coaxing every last twitch until I’m a trembling mess.
When he finally pulls back, he kisses my thigh softly and pulls my underwear off completely. Then he stuffs them in his pocket.
“I missed you,” he says, “and wanted to have these to remember you for next time.”
Knock. Knock.
“Honey? Are you okay in there?” Jenni’s voice is laced with concern.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, shoving at Zach as I scramble to fix my clothes. “Get the door while I—” I gesture wildly at myself, feeling my flushed cheeks and wrinkled skirt.
He stands, adjusting himself shamelessly before leaning down to press a kiss to my lips.
Then he moves to my ear. “You look like you just came all over my face and liked it. Don’t fix it. I want them to see.”
“Zach,” I hiss, shoving him toward the door as I tug at my skirt. It’s hopeless. I know I look wrecked, but I’d like to at least maintain some dignity here.
Zach laughs as he moves to answer the door.
I quickly splash my face with a little cold water from my sink and catch my reflection. My mascara’s smudged. There’s a deep red mark blooming on my collarbone, and he’s right. I look completely and utterly wrecked.
When the door opens, I straighten and force a smile on my face.
“Evans?” Chris says. “I thought you were in Carolina?”
“Change of plans,” Zach replies, his tone casual but with an unmistakable edge. “Honey's just freshening up. Come on in. Or don’t. Your call.”
“Ugh,” I mutter, pushing Zach aside as Chris and Jenni hover in the doorway, their eyes wide.
I ignore it.
“Chris. Jenni,” I say, aiming for casual, but landing somewhere between guilty and wrecked. “Sorry, I got a little caught up in something.”
Zach snorts behind me. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Come on in.” I gesture toward the room, praying it doesn’t smell like sex.
Chris’s gaze flicks between us, his mouth tight. “You good?”
“She’s great,” Zach answers for me, his hand sliding to my lower back. His voice is calm, almost pleasant, but I hear the warning behind it.
Chris nods stiffly. “Should we come back later, or…?”
“You can study,” Zach says, not moving his hand. “I’ve got film to review anyway.”
The possessiveness isn’t subtle, but I doubt it’s supposed to be.
“Come on,” I say quickly, gesturing to the bed. “Let’s get started.”
Chris hesitates, then perches stiffly on the edge of the mattress. Jenni follows, pulling out her notes as she looks between Zach and me. She shakes her head before looking at them.
Zach lets me go before slinging his bag over his shoulder and then takes one last look at the desk. “I think your laptop got wet. My bad.” Then, louder, “I’ll be back later tonight, Honeycomb.”
He did not just say that.