ANNA

 

I swallow a nervous lump in my throat as his eyes tangle with mine. It's like he is a hungry predator and I am his prey, and I don't exactly mind that scenario. He steps towards me almost like he's stalking me with his shoulders rising and falling with every step. The room is hot and arid. And suddenly, I find myself suffocating. The room is too small now, it's like the walls are closing in on me. I begin to sweat profusely, wetness slicking across my forehead. My palms are clammy and sweaty too, and even though this is the moment I have been waiting for forever, I'm not prepared.

But maybe he's not about to do what I think he's about to do. Maybe it's just my imagination, my fantasies running in overdrive. Maybe this is nothing more than him moving to comfort me once more, but the music playing overhead makes this feel different from before.

The first time he indicated that he wanted to kiss me, I was lying on my back in the middle of an alleyway. And then it happened again in the elevator shaft. He kissed me then and about turned me into a pile of mush. Now, here in this safe room, it feels like my fantasy might actually come true. And if I should die tonight, at least I will go out having checked something off my bucket list.

He finally meets me and I'm frozen in place. His hand drops to hold me at my hip and he pulls me in closer to him so that our bodies merge together, colliding. He drops a hand to push my hair behind my ear. And I look up to him to see his eyes boring into mine. I could get lost in those deep set emerald eyes. I could stare into them forever, like I'm staring into the abyss of the greenest parts of the ocean.

I wet my lips, nervous and anxious.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," he whispers to me softly. "I don't want you to think I'm only doing this because of the situation we’re in."

That's a thought that hadn't even crossed my mind but now that it has, I can't shake the feeling that it’s exactly why he's doing this. I can't help the feeling that’s why he kissed me. And now it's why he's about to do something else.

I avert my gaze as my mind kicks into overdrive. I've always been somewhat of an insecure girl. While that insecurity has never affected my relationships with other women, it has been troublesome when it comes to the men in my life or the lack thereof.

Men desire women who are confident in their skin and confident in every aspect of their lives. They are attracted to women who have their shit straight. They are also attracted to women with big breasts, and I do not have those. But if there's one thing my mother ever taught me that was one hundred percent true, it's that the eyes are the windows to a man's soul. And his windows right now are wide open for me to see. And in those windows, I see a decent man. I see a strong man. I see Zane Richards, the man I've been fantasizing over for the last two years.

I want to relish the moment, remember it for the rest of my life. Even if my life ends tonight, I want these memories to be the last thing I think about. He drops his head lower, breathing hot fire against my lips as he tilts my head upwards. His lips land on mine and though we are both parched and dehydrated, and his lips are rough, it still feels like the closest to heaven I'll ever see.

His tongue slips past my lips. I give into him fully. One of my hands trail down the length of his back and then rests at the small of his back. He's muscular, built entirely from steel. Growing up, I always believed I would end up with the nerdy type. Those are the types of boys I was attracted to, but maybe I was only attracted to them because they felt safe. They felt attainable. I never in my wildest imagination, growing up, would have believed I would ever be in a position to be bedded by a man as strong and wise and intelligent and gorgeous as the man standing before me today.

"Zane…" I bow my head with a whisper and hold one hand firm against his chest. “We shouldn't…”

“If you don't want to,” he says, wrapping both arms around my back to engulf my body in a tight hug, “we don't have to.”

“I want…" I raise my head to look him in the eyes once more. "I want this, but I'm just scared. Not scared of this, but scared of what's going on outside.”

“You don't need to be scared," he assures me. "I will protect you."

He is my protector. He is my knight in shining armor; he is a beacon of light in the darkness. I've never felt safer in my life than I do right now. I've never felt safer in my own apartment or in the basement of the Ford Security factory. I've never felt safer anywhere, anytime, in this world.

And that's saying something fantastical, I know that. Today, I have faced more adversity and danger than I have in my entire life and yet I feel safe. None of it makes sense. I certainly can't make sense of it. Can't make sense of the thoughts in my head. Can't make sense of the butterflies in my stomach. Can't make sense of this world that keeps on turning all the while I feel as if it's come to a standstill.

"Come with me," he says to me and drops a hand to tangle with mine. His fingers and hands are strong. Everything about him is strong. He leads me to the couch and he drops down first all the while still holding my hand. And then with a gentle tug, he pulls me down onto the couch beside him. "I need you to know something."

I look to him to ask him what, but my lips don’t part and the words don't come out. But I don't need to ask him to explain because he's going to do that on his own.

He swallows a nervous breath, drops his head slightly and clicks his tongue against inside of his cheek. Men like him, strong military man, aren't known for being open and vulnerable. Many of them are like a volcano, holding all of their thoughts, feelings, and anger inside until the day they erupt in a fiery explosion. I've seen it firsthand. I've seen it before. But none of the men I work with are like that, at least not from what I've seen.

There is Chase who has always been a gentle giant of sorts. And then there is Luke, the wisecracking funny guy. Dominic, the leader, has always been composed. And then there are the twins. The twins, both Zane and Zach, are two sides of the same coin. Though they look identical, because they are, with buzzed hair and emerald eyes, they have slightly different personalities. Zane is the more serious and professional one while Zach is more of a wisecracker similar to Luke. Zane has always chalked up their personality differences to being born mere minutes before his brother. In that regard, it's almost like Zach is the younger brother of the two even though they are twins. And like most younger brothers, Zach tends to be more fun-loving while Zane often retreats into his own head.

"Everything I ever say, I always mean." He twists his eyes to me. "When I say that I've been wanting you for the longest time, it's not a lie. And it's not because I feel like we might die today. It's something I should've told you before but I never found the timing appropriate."

"And I need to be honest with you.” I drop a hand to his thigh. "I feel the same way about you—"

"I know.” He flashes a cocky grin, interrupting me in the middle of my sentence. "It's been kind of obvious."

If it's been so obvious, then why the hell hasn't he ever said anything? I ask him as such, “Then why did you never say anything?”

"I could ask you the same thing," he points out, rather astutely. "So I'll ask you now. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because honestly I was waiting for you.”

"You know," he chuckles under his breath, "this is the modern dating world. The rules are different than they were before. Back in the Stone Age, I would have been the one to ask you first because I'm a man. In these times? All bets are off."

I can't help the feeling that his words are so very similar to Summer’s. She had said that the rules and dating in the modern world have changed. She had said that it is not necessarily the man's responsibility to make the first move. Not anymore anyways.

“Have you talked to Summer about this?”

“No.” He shakes his head. "Why?"

I scratch at the side of my face, trying to deflect. "No reason."

"Can we just get on with this?" He doesn't wait for me to respond before he's reaching behind my back. He drops a hand to hold on to the curves of my ass. And then he lifts me on top of him so that I'm straddling his legs.

This seems to be the point of no return.

While straddling him, it's like I'm taller than him for the first time. I hook both arms around the back of his neck. He cranes his head backwards and gazes up to me with fire and fury in his eyes. But it is a soft fire, one that is not consumed in something sinister. It's more like an intimate bonfire instead of an uncontrollable house fire.

Butterflies sting against my stomach. I don't know why I'm so nervous, not after he has directed his inclinations towards me. I shouldn't be nervous, not even a little bit. I shouldn't be nervous because I know that he wants this, so I push all of the negative thoughts away and lock them in a cardboard box.

His hands glide down my sides until he holds me firmly by my hips. That's when the friction begins. My body grinds against his, using my hips to buck over his lap. Hair drops over my face so I use one hand to push it out of the way.

The view from up here is absolutely panty melting. It's like I have power over him, and though that's not something I ever crave, I'm not going to lie and say it doesn't make me feel some kind of way. It makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel wanted. But most of all, it makes me feel like I'm in control. And that's an amazing feeling after the day I've had, when I feel as if every bit of control I've ever had has been stripped away from me.

If there's one thing I take away from this day, should I survive, it’s that I am in control. Always. I make my own destiny. I control my own fate. I am always in control. I have the power to turn my fantasies into reality, the power to turn my dreams into reality. And moving forward, I won't ever hesitate again. Because life is short and I want to live my life to the absolute fullest, just like I'm doing right now.

My hips buck faster over his body, creating enough friction that I feel as if I could spontaneously combust into flames. His hands crawl beneath my shirt, his strong fingers caressing my bare skin. It's almost enough to send me over the edge already. That's what happens when you wait so long for something and it finally happens. In all honesty, I'm surprised I'm not a pile of mush right now.

But my world is on fire and this is exactly the distraction that I need right now. Mitch and his cronies outside that door have no idea what's going on here. Too bad, because maybe that's what they need. Maybe they need to see a show like this so they can learn to let go. Or maybe they're already too far gone.

Not my problem. Not right now anyways.

I drop my head lower to land a kiss against his lips. It's short and quick, but full of passion. I retreat slightly, just so I can look him in the eyes. His eyes are fuller now, filled with hunger and desire. He cranes his head up and kisses me again. He holds me by each of my cheeks, holds me still while his tongue slips past my lips. I draw my eyes to a close while I focus all of my attention on the way he's able to turn me inside out with nothing more than his tongue.

I break away from his kiss if only to breathe. My chest heaves right in his face as he holds me steady with his hands planted against my waist. And while I'm fighting to catch my breath, one hand slides back under my shirt. His rough, calloused hands are enough to send shivers down my spine. He hooks his fingers underneath my shirt and lifts it until my bra is exposed. I raise my arms into the air to assist him as he pulls my shirt over my head and disposes of it on the floor beside the couch.

"You are so damn sexy,” he growls in a raspy whisper. "So damn beautiful."

I don't know how to respond to that so I don't say a word. Instead I just kiss him again, this time deeper and harder. More passionate too. My lips are wet and moist now, so are his. My jeans scratch against his jeans. My ass bucks against his crotch and I can feel his erection growing in his pants.

His hands drop to the hem of his shirt and I pull back just enough to give him the space to rip his shirt over his head. He does it in one fell swoop and tosses the shirt onto the floor. I swallow a nervous lump in my throat. It's not like this is the first time I've seen him without his shirt. I've seen him many times without his shirt. In fact, I saw this sight just earlier today when we were at the factory. But there's something different about this time. The difference is that he is beneath me and hungry for me. And that changes everything. It changes the chemistry.

His chest and his abdomen are rock solid, with hard steel muscles everywhere. He's an iron fortress, a Greek God build to the highest of standards. And for the slightest of moments I almost feel as if I'm not worthy. I'm just a nobody, but he makes me feel like somebody.

Never in my life have I met someone who seemed to be so hungry for me. When he looks at me, I can't imagine that he sees the same thing in me that I see in him. Once again, I put away all of those negative thoughts. I force myself to just live in the moment, while I still have that luxury.

Swiftly, he slips his hands under me and pushes me onto my back. He climbs on top of me with one knee planted between my thighs, spreading my legs for access. His breath is hot as he kisses me on the neck. He tongues a trail from behind my ear to my collarbone, leaving wetness behind. And when he breathes against my neck, his hot breath ignites the wetness. He kisses me again, little tiny kisses on the neck. Each touch of his lips against my flesh makes me melt. He drops a hand to undo my jeans, the buttons first and then the zipper.

He pushes himself to his knees so that he's kneeling between my legs, and rips my jeans off in one quick motion. And then I'm almost bare beneath him, wearing only my panties and bra. It doesn't exactly seem fair, but he quickly corrects the situation. With one strong hand, he undoes the buttons of his own jeans and pushes his pants down his legs, and then finally kicks free of the denim so that he’s in nothing more than tight boxer briefs.

He lowers himself back on top of me. He's strong and heavy and I’m pinned between his hot body and the slick leather couch. I'm torn between the two sensations. Sweat forms on my back, forcing my body to stick to the fabric of the leather couch beneath me. He starts to kiss me again and that's when it seems to be all too much. He palms at my breasts as he bites softly against my neck.

An embarrassing moan passes from my throat as I shift my head to give him better access to my neck. It's an odd sensation, trying to get closer to him all the while the sensations are too much and it's driving me away from him. It's hard to catch my breath when he is touching me everywhere, when he's kissing me everywhere.

There's nowhere to go and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with being pinned down on this very couch with him above me but I want more. I crave more.

I need more, need more like I've never needed anything in my life.

He drops a hand to either side of my head. And he steadies himself above me, his eyes boring down into me. It's like he's asking for permission to continue with only his eyes and not his mouth. But we've already reached the point of no return.

I know that.

He knows that.

"What are you waiting for?" I chew into my lip as I question him. I wait for what seems like forever before he finally answers me.

"Okay." He nods gently and straightens himself out on top of me. Slowly, he reaches down to push his black underwear down his long legs. I can feel his hardness against my leg, and I crave to touch it, to feel it. In my hands. Inside of me.

Using his legs, he pushes my thighs apart. He reaches down and slides my panties from my hips and then down my legs. And with the exception of my bra, I am now bare beneath him just as he is bare above me. Most men would dive right in. But he's content with waiting, content with driving me over the edge before he gives me what I so crave.

He drops a hand to massage the most vulnerable, the most sensitive part of my body. I exhale softly at his touch. So strong and yet somehow, he is so gentle against me.

Once more, his eyes drift to mine and we meet somewhere in the middle.

There is so much of him to explore and this is only the beginning…