Wild Heart (16 page)

Looking up at me through a mess of wet hair, Emerson smiles. Those brown eyes of hers are wild and needy as she watches me toss my shirt onto the couch.

“Come here.”

Pushing herself away from the door, she reaches for her dress before I can. Peeling the wet material off her body, she drops it on the floor by her feet.

I feel like I’m seventeen all over again—out of control in love. 

Emerson takes her time walking the ten steps towards me, her hips swaying. When she’s within reach I grab her, the skin of her arm soft and warm. Pulling her into me, I touch every inch I can get my hands on, then push her up against the wall.

Biting her lip, she looks up at me, putting her hand on my chest.

“No. Not yet.”

“Baby,” I growl. I’m in serious fucking pain. I have no patience.

Dropping to her knees, in nothing but a pair of black panties, she’s a goddamn dream, everything I’ve missed.

Unzipping my fly, she reaches inside. Her hand on my dick almost drops me to
my
knees. Wrapping her fingers around me, she squeezes.

“Em—”

“Shush.”

Before I have a second to think, she’s got my cock in her mouth. Her plump red lips wrapped around me is so fucking hot.

Putting my hands on the wall, I brace myself, barely able to hold myself up. Em runs her tongue around the head, and I can’t stop myself from thrusting myself into her mouth. I remove one hand from the wall and tangle it in her wet hair, trying to force myself a little deeper.

I watch her, absolutely fascinated, as she sucks me off with so much eagerness, I almost lose all fucking control.

Pulling out her mouth, I groan, missing the warmth.

“No more,” I pant.

I pull her up and pin her against the wall. Crouching down, I pull her panties down her thighs and toss them somewhere across the room.

Standing back up, I drag my hand up her leg, stopping at the juncture between her thighs. I slide two fingers into her wet, waiting cunt. Back arching, she closes her eyes and bites down on her lip when I add a third finger.

“You miss this?” I ask her as I stroke deep. Working my thumb over her clit, I aim to make her breathing hitch until she’s fucking breathless.

Working my fingers in and out of her tightness, I feel my balls damn near crawl into my throat. I’m so fucking hard.

Kissing her collarbone, I lose my head in her smell, in the feel of her skin on mine, the curve of her body. I finger fuck her until she’s panting and chewing a hole through her lip.

“I can’t stop,” I tell her.

“I don’t want you to,” she says, breathless.

I remove my fingers and she wraps her legs around me. Chest to chest, up against the wall, I sink my cock into her.

“I swear to fuck you fit me perfectly.”

“No talkin’. Only fuckin’.”

“Whatever you want.”

I fuck her slow and I fuck her hard up against the wall. One hand’s holding her up while the other’s tangled in her hair as she kisses me, sucking on my tongue, my lip.

We’re both shaking with need.

Pulling out, I pause before sinking all the way into her again, torturing us both as I do it over and over again. Her pussy throbs, squeezing the fuck out of me.

“
Fuck,
Zac,” she moans, almost painfully as I continue to move in and out of her at a slow, agonizing pace.

I’m having a hard time keeping my shit together, because
this
is what I remember. This consuming need, this frenzy, this fire that’s only ever burned between us.

Loving her is like fucking quicksand. It sucks me in and there’s no way to escape it.

“Don’t stop.”

“Not for the fuckin’ world.”

Everything in me tightens.

Sliding a hand between us, I circle her clit, sending her over the edge and she lets go, exploding.

“Ohhh…fuck.
Fuuuuuck.”

Her foul mouth and tight cunt send me over the edge.

Burying my face in her neck, I come so hard my vision blurs and my legs damn near give out. 

~~~~~~

I wake up to Emerson’s head tucked in my arm and her hair in my face. Her knee is jammed into my thigh and her nails are digging into my arm. My arm is numb and my neck hurts. And I’ve never been happier to be this uncomfortable.

Every morning,
this
is how I’m waking up from here on out. I’m waking up stiff, sore, and fucking happy.

I feel whole again, as corny as it may sound. With her in my bed, where she should’ve always been, I feel on top of the fucking world. Woke up with a smile, something I haven’t done in a long goddamn time.

Carefully I move her hair out of my face and kiss her softly.

Maybe this is how this was all supposed to work out. Maybe all the bullshit between then and now was how life was going to go no matter what either of us would have done. I’m tired of thinking about, tired of going over it all. She’s here now and that’s all that matters.

“Stop,” she moans when I move her an inch. Apparently, she’s still not a morning person.

Kissing her again, I laugh when she jerks her head away.

“Jesus, Zac, I
was
sleeping.” I try to keep the laughter to myself, but it’s impossible when she glares at me, hair sticking out all over the place. Rolling away from me, I pull her back, burying my face in her neck. She smells like us. The last thing I wanna do is get out of this bed.

Kissing her one last time, I leave her alone to sleep.

Slipping out of bed, I debate on staying in it with the cranky woman, but I don’t. I have to get to work, and I’m already running late. 

But I’m not complaining.

~~~~~~

“I’m mad at you,” Em announces, shoving a cup of coffee at me. The brown liquid sloshes out onto my hand and the floor.

“You don’t say,” I respond, taking a drink of my coffee.

She’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, glaring at me, with her curls looking Medusalike, her arms folded across her chest, and her lips curled. She’s wearing one of my dirty T-shirts she snagged off the floor and a pair of the ugliest wool socks I’ve ever seen, and nothing else. But she’s still sexy as hell.  

Walking out onto the porch I sit down on the small bench next to the door and grab my boots. I’m a man, but I prefer not to stomp my muddy boots through the house every damn day so I leave them out here.

Lacing them up, I look back through the door and smirk, catching a flash of ass under my tee when she reaches for another coffee cup in the cupboard. She must have felt me staring because when my eyes travel up, I find her glaring at me.

“Still not a mornin’ person, baby?” I laugh.

Walking towards the door, she leans up against it, crossing her ankles.

“No.”

Standing up, I hold my hand out. “Come here.”

She doesn’t hesitate. Em falls right into me. “I’m going back to bed when you leave.”

“Good.” I’m jealous of that bed.

“Zac, are you saying I need more sleep?” she asks through a yawn.

I don’t answer, kissing her instead.

Those lips could kill a man. Suddenly I’m wondering why I didn’t just say fuck work and stay in bed all day with her.

“Zac,” Em moans against my lips.

“Babe…”

“You gotta go.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ll be back as soon as you can.”

Laughing, I lean in and capture those lips again.

“Smart ass.”

“Rather be a smart ass than a dumb ass,” she giggles, walking away. I reach out and smack at her ass before she gets away, catching a palm full. Em jumps and gives me a dirty look from over her shoulder.

“Later, Z.”

“Bye, baby. You better be here when I get home.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah, we will,” I tell her, watching her walk up the stairs.

“Zac,” she calls out, stopping at the landing.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

It’s been almost six weeks of spending every day and night together. Date nights, barbeques, football games, breakfast in bed, nights in the woods, afternoons on the river. We’re inseparable, just like we were in high school, except this time around, neither of us has a curfew and there is no sneaking around involved. Not that I don’t miss sneaking into Zac’s window almost every night. There was always something extra special about climbing up the porch and through that window. Now I just let myself in through the front door, with the key that he slipped on my key ring.

Half of the small amount of my belongings are here, and the other half is all over the floor at the apartment I still kinda live in.

Zac wants me here every night. I won’t lie, I want me here too. It feels right. Every time I look at him I swoon. Every time he touches me I get butterflies. Every time is like the first time all over again.

I’m disgustingly happy.

Standing in Zac’s kitchen, I whip a bowl of batter at the counter, singing along to some song on the radio. I feel settled. Ten years of instability and a life on the move left me feeling wobbly. I was tired.

I’ll always love music. I’ll
always
have a desire to write lyrics and sing melodies. My guitar will never be far away. But the need to share my voice and my music with the world just isn’t the same. I no longer have that burning need to get out and share it myself. Sharing it will always be a part of me, but the masses no longer need it from me.

I’m happy doing things at a slower place. Happy to be here, in my small town, with Zac.

With a spoonful of cookie dough in my hand, I debate on popping it into my mouth, but I end up plopping it onto the baking sheet. I can lick the bowl later.

Zac’s outside with his brother and Tray, and they’re bucking up a few fallen trees, or something else just as manly. I tried to watch, but Zac sent my “perverted ass” (his words, not mine) back inside. Apparently, I’m just as distracting as he is.

Rolling out another ball of dough, I hear Zac’s phone ring from the table. It rings until it goes to voicemail, then it rings again. Dropping the dough back into the bowl, I walk over and stare down at it, wondering if I should answer it. Are we at the answering each other’s phone portion of our relationship?

The phone rings again. It’s just a number. No name. No picture. Might be important if they keep calling, so I answer it.

“Hello?”

Someone exhales loudly, sounding annoyed. “Of course
you
would
answer. It’s Nadia.” My stomach hallows out at the sound of her voice.

Zac said they weren’t serious when I asked him about their relationship three weeks ago. I was concerned things were left unsaid and unfinished between them the night of the wedding. He assured me they were nothing. He wasn’t worried about her, adamant that there was nothing to resolve. He found her sleeping with another man. What could there possibly be left unsaid? Apparently, he was wrong.

I don’t know what to say to her. Something bitchy pops into my head, but something more neutral comes out.

“Yep. Can I help you?” I want to tell her to lose Zac’s number, forget the few months you had him because he’s mine—always has been and always will be—but I don’t because I’m a classy fucking lady.

She makes a noise that’s a cross between a scoff and a growl. “No. I need to talk to Zac.”

“He’s busy. I’m sure
I
can help you.”

“Listen. Zac and me have some unfinished business. I need to talk to him. Tell him to call me or I’ll just come over.” She hangs up before I can say something I might regret.

“Bitch,” I mutter at the phone. I contemplate smashing it against the counter for a minute, but I hear footsteps on the porch that stop me from decimating it.

“Baby, you that lonely in here? Talkin’ to the electronics?” Zac laughs from the doorway.

I turn around to give him a look, but I’m stopped dead.

My heart starts to trip over itself and my body instantly heats. Zac makes my knees weak and it’s un-fucking-fair. I work hard to look good. Zac just rolls out of bed that way. Wearing a dirty gray shirt and even dirtier jeans, he’s mouthwatering, and not in that normal way. He’s such a man and I love it.

Crossing his large muscular arms over his chest, he lifts a sweat-covered brow at me.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” Holding out his phone, I add, “You had a phone call.”

Taking off his leather gloves, he shoves them into his back pocket and steps in closer to me.

“Yeah? Who was it?”

“Nadia.”

“Again?” he grumbles, taking the phone from my outstretched hand. Glaring at it, he checks it before tossing it back on to the table.

Again?

This isn’t the first time the twit has called? What could she possibly want? I swear to God, if someone tries to get in between us I’m going to kill them. I will tear her damn head off her—

“Emerson?” Zac questions cautiously.

He walks up to me and stops. Putting a finger under my chin, he tips my head back, looking down at me. “Don’t start gettin’ all crazy.”

“Crazy?” Did he just call me crazy? I start to open my mouth but he keeps talking, shutting me up.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I meant don’t get all up in your head about her. She called once before and I told her I wasn’t interested in rehashing shit with her. It’s me and you.”

It’s me and you.

I love that. I don’t say it out loud, but I do. I fucking love it. But I’m still jealous. I want all that time I lost with him back.

Staring up into his blue eyes, I’m reminded of a time I felt the way I’m feeling now. Murderous. Crazy. Jealous. I have a mean streak and there is no hiding it. It’s written all over my face and Zac can read me like a book. There was a time I broke a girls arm over Zac, all over being possessive and jealous.

I tried to be nice, but Kelly’s pushing it.

Drinking the rest of my punch, I crumple the paper cup in my hand and toss it into the garbage.

Glancing over my shoulder, I roll my eyes.

Wearing a pink tutu looking dress, I fight the urge to be extra mean by pointing out how stupid Kelly looks. My mama raised me right, so I keep my lips sealed. I don’t have anything nice to say so I don’t say anything at all.

“Em, don’t bother. Zac doesn’t even look like he’s enjoying himself,” Row says softly. No, but Kelly does. She’s enjoying herself, looking over at me every so often to rub it in my face that she’s here with Zac and I’m not.

I’m a nice girl, I remind myself. For the most part I just go with the flow as long as that flow is fun. It’s not fun anymore.

“It looked like she tried to kiss him, Row.”

Standing off to the far side of the gym, I watch Zac, my boyfriend, and that slut Kelly dance close. I don’t want to be that girl, but I can’t help it. I tried to be nice. Kelly’s dad had just died so I let her get away with asking Zac to the dance, even though she knew we were together. No one tells a grieving girl no. And I’m
nice
for Christ’s sake. But now I’m not feeling it.

“Emmy-Lou!” Justin, my date for the evening, laughs at my misery. “You’re gettin’ crazy eyes.”

Kelly leans into Zac and she buries her face in his neck, and I lose my patience.

Bye-bye nice girl.

I march my high heeled feet towards them, my pretty blue dress swishing angrily around me. Jerking my corsage off my wrist, I toss it to the ground on my way. Gathering my pretty curls into a heaping mess on the top of my head, I tie them up with the hair tie that was hidden under the ugly mess of flowers on my arm.

It’s about to get ugly.

“Em, just let it go,” Row pleads, following after me. I can’t. I’ve waited
years
for Zac to finally see me as more than just a friend, and I’ll be damned if some little emotional tart in a pink tutu’s gonna take him away from me.

I make it across the gym in a blur. I grab her shoulder, pulling her away from Zac before I can even think about what’s happening. I slip on my beautiful dress before I can stop it, falling right into Kelly.

It was accidently on purpose.

Kelly catches herself, but she looks down and I see that her wrist bent all weird, and she instantly starts to wail.

“Em!” Zac grabs my waist, keeping me from falling flat on my face. But it’s too late. Kelly is on the floor, screaming about me breaking her arm. Justin’s laughing his ass off, while Row shakes her head at the whole spectacle. Everyone else is watching me, looking at me with accusing eyes. I
shoved
Kelly down and broke her damn arm.

It certainly wasn’t what I intended to do, but hey, don’t mess with me.

“You’re givin’ me that look, Em.” Zac’s deep voice cuts through the memory.

“What look?” I play innocent, but fail miserably. I know I look jealous.

“You know the one.”

It’s highly unfair. The man makes me jealous. It’s a foul shade of jealous too. But I’m not the only one. Zac’s just as crazy as I am when it comes to sharing me with anyone else. He just hides it a little better than I do.

“Forget her,” he says, kissing me hard. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Damn straight.