Page 52 of Unlikely
“I’ve never been with a woman.”
“What are you thinking about?” Zara asks, bringing me back to the present.
Swallowing hard, I give my head a quick little shake. “Nothing.”
“Try again, sweetheart.” She looks at me with a smug smile and knowing eyes as she raises her hand to my hot cheek. “Your flushed skin is giving you away.”
A shiver races down my spine, my legs pressing together, the thought of her reading my mind turning me inside out.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I say a little too quickly, forcing Zara to drop her hand from my face.
“Of course,” she answers, completely unfazed by my moment of panic. “Why don’t you use the one upstairs, in my bedroom.”
Sliding off the stool, I practically run to the staircase, climbing up it two at a time. When I find her room, my eyes get stuck on her queen-sized bed, imagining her lying there all the times we’ve been on the phone, her hands on her own body, bringing herself pleasure.
Stepping into the bathroom, I close the door and catch my reflection; wide green eyes, red cheeks, pink, pouty lips. I look freshly fucked and the woman hasn’t even touched me. Turning the faucet on, I stick my hands under and let the water run over them for a few seconds before I gently press my cool hands to my cheeks and behind my neck.
Sex has never been at the forefront of my mind; it’s more of an itch that occasionally needs to be scratched, and even then, most of the time I could do it myself. But for eight months now, even before connecting the dots and finding out who Zara was, I have spent endless nights dreaming about soft hands, full breasts, and the single most memorable body I’ve ever had the pleasure of touching.
I reapply cool water a few more times, doing everything I can to bring down the heat and need that are coursing through my body. Counting down from twenty, I finally switch off the water and dry my hands.
When I open the bathroom door, Zara is sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, waiting for me. She gets to her feet when she notices me.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I am,” I breathe out. “Was just in my own head for a second there.”
“Yeah?” She steps toward me, desire written on her face, the air between us crackling the closer she gets, that all-knowing smile still dancing on her lips. “Anything I can help you with?”
I shake my head as I bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t think so.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t know.” I raise a shoulder. “What is it you think I need help with?”
She doesn’t waste time with words, reaching for me and bringing me to her, our bodies flush against one another. Burying her face in the crook of my neck, she kisses and licks my collarbone before traveling up the length of my nape, her lips close to my ear.
“Are you thinking about that night?” Her voice is raw and sultry, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body at the feel of her hot breath against my skin. “I don’t know what I said that triggered your memories, but you know I’m here for a repeat.”
Her lips skate across my jaw as I make the choice to answer. “You said you used Jesse to confirm you were into girls, and my mind went straight to that moment, where I too realized I was into girls.”
This has her moving her head back to get a good look at me. The lust from minutes earlier is muted, just a little, as she stares at me with something akin to wonder and pride.
“What?” I ask, feeling a little self-conscious.
She shakes her head before lowering her mouth back to my neck. “Tell me about it,” she says softly against my skin. “Tell me all about that exact moment.”
My heart rate quickens at her request, the pulse in between my legs throbbing. “We’d made our way to the hotel room, and you were kissing me in the dark,” I start, my breathing already coming out a little ragged. “And when I told you I’d never done this before, you stopped. And all I kept thinking was…”
Her mouth brushes over my collarbone as she slides the sleeves of my dress off my shoulders, disrupting my concentration. “And all you kept thinking was what?”
“More.” The word comes out as an embarrassing breathy whine as her hands cup my covered breasts, caressing them through the fabric.
“And then what,” she presses, her eyes full of heat and mischief. “Did I give you more?”
“Fuck, Zara,” I pant, completely dazed. “I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can, baby,” she coaxes as she leads us back to the bed and guides me to sit on the edge of the mattress. Still dressed like a fucking goddess, she gets down on her knees, widens my legs, and settles herself between them. Brown eyes peer up at me. “I’ve got all fucking night.”