Zack Baker

Tegan gasped when he dropped her camisole onto the carpeting in a splash of silk. He nearly did the same at the sight of her. His insides were wound tight with demand. But he’d wait. Even if it was the hardest damned thing he’d ever done.

She started to bring up her hands to cover herself, but he caught them.

“Don’t,” he said.

With great reluctance, her eyes met his, seeking reassurance.

“I want to see you, all of you.”

“But—“

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Not like this,” she said.

“I don’t want you diving under the covers or turning out the lights.

“It’s daylight,” she said. She gave him a smile, but it wavered.

“The thought’s still the same,” he countered. “Is that what you really want?” He held both her wrists with one hand and tipped back her chin with his thumb. “To hide like you did before?”

She closed her eyes.

“Don’t shut me out, Tegan.”

“No…” she admitted, the word drawn out. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then let me se you, touch you, taste you…”

After a shiver that chased goose bumps up her arms, she obviously forced herself to relax.

Zack released her hands and she dropped them to her sides. “Lace,” he said approvingly. The demi-cup supported her, revealing the creaminess of her breasts. Through the pale pink fabric, he saw the rise of her nipples. She was aroused, like him…

He swallowed.

Gently he drew the abrasive lace across one hip, hearing her cry out. She was sensitive, more so than the last time they’d been together. “Will you unfasten your bra for me?”

Slowly, without saying a word, she reached for the clasp.

Zack watched, feasting the sight of her.

She dropped the undergarment.

He admired her when she raised her chin, shaking her hair back from her face and meeting his gaze.

He couldn’t hold her eyes long than a second; he had to see her body. “Your breasts are fuller.”

She drew her lips between her teeth.

“Lovely,” he said. “And the area around your nipples, it’s darker.”

“Yes.”

Cupping her breast with his palms, he brushed his thumbs across the tips. Her head swayed to one side, light brown hair cascading across her neck.

He replaced his thumbs with the sweep of his mouth, and she moaned quietly. Then he drew one peak into his mouth, suckling there.

Tegan grabbed him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades and grasping his dress shirt.

It was no longer enough. “I want you naked form e,” he said, his voice scratchy.

His fingers feeling move like thumbs, he fumbled with undressing her the rest of the way, sliding her slip and underpants past her hips and down her thighs.

She kicked free of the fabric and reached for him again.

“Wait,” he said. “Let me look.”

She did.

He stared with her feet and slowly worked his way up, looking at the curve of her hips, and the slight swell of her stomach. He looked at her breast, the way the areolas had darkened and the nipples had lengthened.

Then looking wasn’t enough and he touched. Placing his hand on her abdomen and feeling…

When her knees buckled, he slid an arm beneath her legs and carried her to the bed.

Tonight of all nights, he wanted to be the experienced seducer. He’d had patience that first night. Maybe that was because she’d hidden beneath the covers and he hadn’t seen her proudly standing before him, hadn’t noticed her reactions, which said she was ready for him.

Now…

Now she’d lived beneath his roof, kept a door closed between them at night, even though he’d heard her shower, known when she was washing, rubbing a towel across her damp body, changing her clothes…

He’d had weeks of feeling desire—and had been celibate. That particular brand of patience wouldn’t last much longer, he knew. He wouldn’t last much longer.

“This isn’t fair,” she protested. “You’re still fully dressed.”

“I’ll take care of that right away.”

She wiggled, pulling the bedspread down and pushing aside the sheets, even as she watched him.

He needed to be inside her.

And the demand was urgent.

Seconds later, she scooted over, and he joined her on the bed.

Daylight steamed through the closed curtains. There’d be no secrets between them, just the way he wanted it. This wasn’t a one-night stand. It had to be right. “You’re perfect,” he said. “Just enjoy…”

Propped on one elbow, he stroked the inside of her calf, going a little higher with each caress, nearing her knee. She kept her thighs together, and the sound of her breathing filled his ears. Not soft, but ragged; not relaxed, but tense.

“Your pace,” he reminded her. “I won’t do anything until your ready.’

Slowly she parted her legs. He continued those motions; then, when he neared the juncture of her thighs, she tensed again, digging her heels into the mattress and tightening her buttocks.

Her pace might kill him.

Zack waged an internal debate. He moistened his thumb. Then slowly, deliberately, he swept it across her most sensitive spot.

“Zack!”

Even though he’d promised, he repeated the act.

She shivered.

“Tell me, Tegan. Tell me to stop, or tell me to continue.”

Her hands formed fists at her sides. “Lets just get it over with.”

“Nope,” he said. “Doesn’t work that way. Not with me. I want you wet and willing.”

She gulped. “But—“

“That’s the deal. You’re not sacrificing yourself for me.” He moved subtly, keeping a light pressure there…. “I’m not your ex-husband.” He refused to say the man’s name. “And this isn’t a weekly obligation for me to get rid of my excess testosterone.”

“Ah..”

“This is about pleasure. Mine, but yours, too. I want you to let me know how you want it, and I won’t let you run or hide from me, from yourself. Do you like this?” A few seconds later, he stopped.

She dug her heels deeper into the mattress, but it wasn’t because she was getting tense, it was because she was seeking his touch. Greedily, wanted her even hungrier.

“Tell me what you want.” He looked at her, saw that her nipples were still hard and that her lower lip was swollen from her worrying it.

“I liked that.”

“What?”

“Zack!”
“Tell me, Tegan.”

“You know…That.”

He didn’t move.

“The way you were touching me.”

“Like this?” He slipped his thumb between her folds, and this time she was moist.

“Yes!”

“Faster? Slower? More gently? More pressure? How?” When she didn’t answer, he stopped again.

For the first time since he’d known her, she muttered a mild curse. He grinned. She was losing that cherished control, and he liked it.

“Harder,” she whispered.

A little at a time, he increased the pressure against her, rubbing, feeling, his finger slipping on her moisture.

When she started to wiggle beneath him, her breaths coming in shortened bursts, he moved away, cradling his palm around one of her breast and closing his mouth around it’s distended tip.

She lifted her hips, calling out his name.

He could have taken her over the edge, he knew, but he wanted her there a while longer. When she came, he wanted it to be totally, completely.

He wanted her to know she was his.

That thought rocked him. Unwelcome and intense, it twisted in his heart. She carried his baby, and that was that. At least that was all he wanted it to be…

Turning to her other breast, he laved it with the same kind of attention. Gently he ran his teeth across the top.

“Now!” she said, grabbing him. “No, Zack. Make love to me. I want you inside me.”

Physical demand clawed at him. Her urgency driving him, he moved between her legs and entered her—deeply—with a single, smooth stroke.

She was wet, like he’d wanted. She was welcoming, like he’d hoped.

With her hands on his back, fingered pressed against his spine, he began to move, feeling her tighten around him, drawing the response he was trying desperately to hold back.

His strokes intensified, and her breathing grew labored.

Focusing on her—his wife—he kissed her forehead and whispered an endearment, something he’d never, ever done before. He drove deep and she lifted her hips, whimpering like she’d done their first night together.

Gratitude for what she’d given him crashed through him, and so did his climax.

Seconds later, he was spent, physically.

But it went beyond that, he knew. It was an emotional release, too.

Their lovemaking had been crucial in setting the stage for their entire married life.

Slowly his breathing returned to normal. He’d worked up a swear, and it clung to him, like the sweetness of her scent.

He moved them around so that she lay snuggled on his outstretched arm, against his body.

Softly she said, “You were serious. You didn’t enter me until I begged you to.”

“I wanted you to want it as much as I.”

“I did.”

Her tousled hair covered her eyes but he didn’t move it, determined not to stop what she was saying. “Surprised?”

“At Matt and Val’s wedding, I wanted you but I’ve never been so—I don’t know—aroused, that I’d ask a man to make love to me.”

He moved her hair aside then looked into her eyes. “You’re my wife, Tegan. Anything you want it yours.”

She shivered.

“But what I want is to discover you.”

She laughed. “You just did.”

“Nah, I just figured out one way to make you come. I want to know a dozen more.”

“A dozen?” her mouth formed a circle in shock.

He slipped a finger inside, pressing the pad against her tongue. “At least.”

Her eyes wide, she closed her lips. Then she suckled.

And he figured she’d just found the first say to make him shatter.