Page 60 of Badd Ass
I pressed my face into his shoulder and ground up against him, whimpering.
We came together, his face buried between my breasts, his hair soft against my cheek. I let a few tears drip into his hair as I came, clinging to him, shuddering beneath him, still silently begging him to ask me to stay.
He never did.
Not before we fell asleep.
Not when we woke in the small dark hours of the morning to make love again, bare once more.
Not when my alarm went off at seven-thirty, and we found each other one last time, skin sliding against skin, breathing shuddering in the new light of dawn. We didn’t speak a word as we reached climax together faster than we ever had, coming more desperately than ever before, eyes locked, knowing it was the last time.
My heartbeat pounded in my chest as I rested on Zane’s shoulder—stay—stay—stay—stay—the beat of my heart said.
But I couldn’t.
My life wasn’t here.
Zane wasn’t mine.
How can I upend my entire life for a man I’ve known a week? It would be the height of foolishness, no matter how intensely I may feel. Emotions change, feelings change, desires change. This was temporary, a fleeting thing created in the vacuum of a vacation. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t meant to be.
Minutes passed, and the digital red numerals on Zane’s alarm clock ticked over from 7:30 to 7:45, and then to 8:00.
Finally, I knew I had to go or risk losing my tenuous grip on my stupid, ridiculous, nonsensical emotions.
I had to go.
I forced myself to move, to roll away from Zane. I tugged on Zane’s T-shirt and brought my carry-on bag across the hall to the bathroom, took a quick shower and dressed in clean clothes. Brushed my teeth, combed through my hair and bound it up still damp in a tight bun at back of my head.
When I emerged, it was twenty after eight and Zane was dressed in white gym shorts, a blue SEALs hoodie, and a white ball cap bearing the outline of an assault rifle with the letters HK in red. He had the truck keys in one hand, and two paper cups of coffee in the other.
“I’ve got your bags loaded into the truck,” he said, handing me the coffee.
“Okay,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
The drive to the airport was quiet.
He accompanied me to the security checkpoint, and then handed me my carry-on.
“So.” He sipped his coffee, his dark brown eyes opaque and unreadable to me, now. “This is it.”
I nodded, hating the sudden, painful awkwardness between us. “Guess so.”
One tense moment, then another. It was 8:50 a.m., and I still had to go through security and find my gate. But how could I leave without any kind of goodbye? This wasn’t goodbye; this was an awkward, tense, uncomfortable parting.
“Zane, I—”
He kissed me. Hard, intense, one hand on the back of my head, his huge hard body pressed against mine. His tongue swept my mouth again and again, and I delved into the kiss, drowned in it, reveled in it, hoped hoped hoped it meant he’d—
He pulled away, stumbling backward a step. “Bye, Mara.”
I blinked hard. “See ya, Zane.”
Fucking awkward. Fucking painful. Fucking stupid.
I went through security and stopped on the other side, turning back. Zane was still standing where I’d left him, one hand on the back of his neck, brows drawn, shoulders rising and falling heavily, his jaw tensing and releasing. He forced a smile when I turned back, waved at me, and then abruptly pivoted on his heel and left the airport, almost angrily.
I didn’t cry on the flight home.
