CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zac lay on his king-size bed atop his red satin comforter, shirtless, leather pants unbuttoned, and staring at the cell in his hand. He’d had two women over earlier tonight but lost his motivation the second he thought of Tula marrying that buffoon. He’d sent the women home—or more accurately put: they left in a huff, pissed off that he had not pleasured them. But it seemed his own temptation demon now ruled his life. Simply stated, he couldn’t have Tula, yet he couldn’t allow her to marry this man Gilbert. Yes, yes, it was the classic case of “if I can’t have her, then no one can.” Yet he truly did care for her and wished her to be happy.
I need to be happy, as well.
Zac set his phone down to his side and slid his hand into his pants, closing his eyes and thinking of Tula’s sweet little legs and round ass. He’d only seen her body once when he’d convinced her to wear her enormous granny panties and granny bra—and nothing else—on casual Friday at the office. He’d claimed that if she started acting and dressing a little more provocatively, it would subdue his urge to tempt her. Little had he known that her prudish, nun-like undergarments would only give him a perma-erection.
Saucy little vixen.
With his hand tightly fisted around his cock, he began stroking hard, imagining taking her over his desk at work, hiking up her giant flowery muumuu she often wore—so sexy—while kissing her neck and mouth, and then plowing his hand into her giant panties. He would find her wet and ready. Yes. Ready for her first time. Ready to experience a god who knew exactly how to take her virginity and leave her begging for more. He would be rough and gentle. He would show her how good it felt to be ravished and fucked and touched softly with his breath. He imagined her sweet vanilla perfume filling his nostrils as he ground himself against her thigh while he massaged her bud and prepared her for the mind-blowing event to come. She would moan softly in his ear, “Yes…yes—”
Zac’s cell phone chirped the “Hotline Bling” song in his ear. “No! No!” He picked it up with his free hand and glanced at the screen. Tula?
“Hello?” he answered, eager to hear her voice.
“Zac?” Tula’s voice trembled.
What was the matter? “Yes. How are you, Tula?”
“I’m fine. Great, really.” The sadness in her tone told him otherwise. “Am I bothering you? I know it’s late—but oh god. Do you have guests? I know you like to have guests.”
“No. I have no guests. I was just—” Zac glanced down at his hand, which was still wrapped around his hard cock. He jerked it away. “I was just reading.”
“Anything good?” Her tone perked up.
If you enjoy stories of me wacking off, then yes. “Not really. Just some articles about global warming—the usual god stuff.”
“Oh.”
“So what can I do for you?” Gods, I miss you. Please come back. Please.
“I, uh…” There was a small crack in her voice followed by a muffled sniffle.
“Tula, are you all right?”
Silence.
“Tula?” he said with a deep voice.
“I’m fine. It’s just that…”
“Say it. What is on your mind?”
She sighed. “I can’t help feeling like this is a mistake. That I’m marrying Gilbert because…” She paused for several long moments.
“Because why?” he asked.
“Just tell me that this is what you want me to do. Tell me that you will never be faithful or love one woman. Tell me that you are a womanizing man-whore and that it truly makes you happy.”
Her words instantly made him feel as though he stood on the edge of a great cliff overlooking a bubbling volcano. Tula was giving him another chance. Why? Why would she do that? He’d treated her like garbage. Yes, yes, on purpose to push her way, but why would she want to forgive him?
She went on, “Tell me the truth, Zac. I need to know.”
I just can’t fucking win. If he told her the truth—that he didn’t know if he could ever be a one-woman god because he’d never tried, but that he wanted to try with her—it would be enough to tempt her away from Gilbert, the man Cimil claimed Tula was destined for. But what if Cimil was right? What if the moment Zac had her, he didn’t want her anymore?
Just another notch in the ol’ temptation belt.
However, if he lied to Tula to push her away, he knew that his torment would only continue, and for an immortal, that torment might endure a very, very, very, very, very long time.
“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling his soul and body pulling in opposite directions.
“Okay.”
“Sorry?” He sat up.
“Okay. We’ll do…that.”
“You mean fuck?” he asked.
“Yes. That. Maybe I need to know what it’s like to be with another man before I’m married.”
What the hell? Having premarital sex was the one thing Tula had sworn never to do, and he genuinely respected that about her. Yeah, but if the woman wants to fuck, let her fuck. Who was he to get in her way?
“You know where I live.” He ended the call. This was the perfect solution. He’d have sex with her and give her a night to remember. He would sate his desire and then be able to let her go.
But what if I’m wrong? What if I fuck her and want more and she still marries that loser?
Frantic, Zac quickly dialed Tula back, but his call went to voicemail. “Tula, if you get this, don’t come. I didn’t mean it. You can’t come here. If you do, I won’t answer the door.” He snarled out a breath, knowing it was a lie. He was so going to open that door. “Fucking call me.”
Zac let out an agonized moan. Why am I such a greedy, sadistic asshole? He could not sleep with her no matter what. He could not get in the way of her life.
Oh, but you can. And you will.
He looked up at the ceiling. “Universe, I’m sorry. All right? I’m sorry for being such a self-centered ass. But please, I’m begging you, don’t make Tula suffer for it. Make her change her mind before she gets here.” Because if she came here tonight and offered herself, he wouldn’t be able to resist this time around. He just wouldn’t. She was his Achilles’ heel.