Page 65 of The Mechanics of Lust

Wasn’t sure I could anyway. “Would you fuck me... please?”

He gave another of those beautiful smiles that sent his freckles dancing on his cheeks. And with that, Zacharia Lane proceeded to take me apart, one kiss, one touch, one stroke of pleasure at a time—making me feel something more than loss, more than pain, numbing the guilt, and planting warm seeds of hope.

And boneless as it was, my body responded like it always did when Zach touched me. But whereas we usually met on an equal footing, this time I was in Zach’s arms, in Zach’s care. And I trusted him to do as he’d promised, like I trusted him with pretty much everything else, and his firm direction and low rumbling growls of appreciation sang to my tragically hopeful heart. In that moment, after the evening we’d shared, one thing was crystal fucking clear—Zach felt a lot more for me than he was letting on, but the knowledge gave me zero reassurance. Because when I told him and he walked away as he most likely would, I was going to be in a world of pain.

And when he pushed my knees up to my chest and whispered, “Let me in, baby,” I almost laughed at the irony, wanting to shout that he was already so far inside me, I’d never get him out.

He entered me slowly, gently, like I was some fragile, precious thing, and it was so unlike our standard fiery coupling that it pulled a soft cry of almost sad delight from a place I’d kept carefully locked away for a long time.

At the sound, Zach appeared over me, his face hovering above mine as he waited for me to adjust, our gazes locked, our bodies connected. And as I lost myself in his brilliant green eyes, a deep sense of peace rolled through me.

His mouth turned up in a soft smile and he kissed me once, twice, and then a third time before he finally started to move, rocking slowly into my body while keeping his eyes on mine, every molten stroke of his cock carrying me closer and closer until I teetered on the edge, tears coursing down my cheeks.

He kissed them away and gave two more gentle thrusts. Then he added a slight change of angle and that was enough. I arched in his arms and tumbled into the maelstrom of pleasure mixed with every other emotion that had raised its head that night.

It was almost too much, too raw, and I clung to his body as he tensed and followed me over with a soft grunt, cradling my head as he thrust a final time and then crushed me to him, my cheek buried against his chest, his lips in my hair, his skin hot and slick against my face.

If there was conversation after, I didn’t remember. I didn’t remember him pulling free of my body. I didn’t remember him cleaning me up or tucking me in. I didn’t remember where the glass of water came from or the extra blanket to keep out the cold.

All I remembered was Zach crawling into bed and pulling me into his arms. I remembered him hooking a finger into my wristband as he rocked me back and forth. I remembered feeling safe and somehow hollow and full all at the same time. And I remembered Zach’s heartbeat against my ear, slow and steady, like a drumbeat calling me home.

And I remembered thinking,I’m in love.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Zach

I leaned against the doorjamb,sipped my coffee, and watched Luke sleep. He was on his side, facing me, the grey light of dawn accenting all the dips and curves of his long body. The sheet was puddled over his hips and belly, his messy blond hair curled around his ears, those bright blue eyes that cut through my guard like a knife through hot butter now hidden safely behind shuttered lids. Which would be fine, except for the fact that nothing about me was safe around this man.

The night before had been... Well, shit, what the hell did you say about what had happened between us? Things had been so much simpler when I didn’t like the guy. Lusted after him? Yes. But liked? Well, let’s say I’d managed to convince myself otherwise for too long.

I’d safely categorised Luke as a sad, adrift guy who’d suffered a devastating loss and then skipped out on his husband when Gil needed him the most. Such a selfish thing to do, right? And I’d done a stellar job of keeping him in that role. After the emotional shitshow I’d gone through with Holden, and then my dad, the last thing I needed was a selfish man like Luke in my life, and the cautionary stance I took certainly kept my attraction to him under lock and key.

Until it didn’t.

Until he came to live in Oakwood.

Until I got to know him.

Because then...

I watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way the sheet wrapped around the sweet swell of his arse and all that smooth tanned skin that rode his body invitingly.

Damn.I sighed and took another sip of my coffee, because not only had Luke turned out to be a nice guy, he’d proved to be a lot more, and it was thata lot morepart that was doing my head in.

Because I liked Luke.

I liked him a lot.

I’d gone and gotten...feelingsfor the guy.

And I simply didn’t know what the fuck to do about that.

I walked to the bed and carefully drew the duvet up over his cool skin, my shadow falling across his frame like my body had the night before. The sex between us was... well... spectacular came to mind. An excellent adjective, all things considered. But what I’d done with and to Luke last night had been nothing to do with straightforward sex.

I’d made love to Luke. In his bed. In his house. And in my head.

I might not beinlove with him but hell if I wasn’t heading that way.

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