Zachary David Productions (7 page)

He removed his jeans, but her vision was still so blurry from bliss that she didn’t have a sharp image, but thought it best lest she become even more nervous about taking him.

Before she could recover from the first part of the plan, he rubbed his erection through her wetness. Positioned at her entrance he paused, “Cammie, are you sure you want me?”

“Mmm. Yeeeessss.”

Sliding in, he was large and long. Stinging pain quickly gave way to heightened pleasure. She liked that he didn’t treat her like a withering flower and instead pushed to the root. She felt him deep inside of her and he waited, hovering just above her, watching her intently like he always did.

“Okay?” He asked as his nose rubbed against hers in sweet delicate whispers of affection.

Her breathing was so hard she had to open her mouth to get all the air she needed. A moan was all she could manage this time. She felt pressure from the fullness and just wanted him to move. She tilted her hips, offering the first slide.

He understood and loved her with a long, slow momentum. He cradled her in the frame of his face and upper arms.

“Cammie, are you ready for more.”

More?

“There’s more?”

“Oh, there’s much more.”

“I want more.” She wanted as much of him as she could get.

He started to really move and she realized this
more
would be the
more
that took her from needy to satisfied. She felt the moment his hips and abdominal muscles tightened, and then he pistoned, repeatedly hitting a place inside of her that grew thicker and more needy. Her flesh tingled with the push-pull of his erection and her body rode him perfectly, hugging and pulling him into her depths.

His skin glistened with sweat and when his fingers rubbed between her legs, her nails dug into his back and scratched down to his waist. He growled at her possession but the glint in his eye said he enjoyed it.

“Zach,” she whispered. She was there. He massaged her harder and thrust deeper. A scream escaped her throat and she bit into his shoulder.

This orgasm was different from the first. She felt it build and originate from the inside and then it fanned out to her limbs. Her back bowed and her tits hardened to painful points that Zach took into his warm mouth.

Her walls contracted around him and she felt his body tense as he claimed his pleasure. The sounds he made were feral and she delighted in the knowledge that she’d drawn those sounds from him.

His head rested in the curve of her neck, his lips forming a kiss on her skin. He whispered, “What you gave was special. Thank you for letting it be me.”

Reading his signals she assumed he’d enjoyed himself. Still it’d be nice to hear, but she wasn’t going to be one of those fussy girls so she refrained from asking.

“You’re incredible.” He kissed her shoulder. “I’ve never felt so close to someone. You were lost in me.”

“And were you lost in me?” Okay she was officially one of those girls.

“Since the moment I touched your skin.” Their lips met and he kissed her sweetly.

After they’d recovered their breathing and body temperatures, he slipped gently from her. He washed and clothed her in his own too large sweats and tube socks. He wore the same. By the time she was beneath the covers and wrapped in a blanket of him, she was toasty warm. The frozen rain fell around them, but they were safe in their little cocoon. He fell asleep within minutes and the sound of his light snore comforted her as it kissed the back of her neck.

Replaying the events of their encounter in a closed loop in her mind, Cammie found it hard to fall asleep, but she’d had too much pleasure to concern herself with trivial matters such as sleep. She was also feeling a tad guilty as she worried about Priscilla. She fretted over Sawyer too and hoped he was still downstairs and not out in the weather.

…He’s a dealer, Cammie. He’ll be expecting his money, along with interest. He’s not going to be happy you didn’t deliver
.

Z
ach cracked
eggs into the cast iron skillet. His mood was mirrored in the sunny-side up eggs that stared back at him. Last night when he’d made love to Cammie something had shifted in him…something akin to obsession. As he loosened the eggs with a spatula he knew it would be a pain like he’d never known if he were to ever lose Cammie and he planned to spare himself that grief by slowly but surely making her his. He just hoped she was in the same mindset, but it was difficult to tell. He expected in time she’d open up to him and share her fears, her likes, her dreams, and even her thoughts about what they’d done.

He slid a finger under the rim of his eyeglasses, wiping at an eyelash that irritated his eye. And there she was…fresh and dewy in the morning light.

Zach pulled a set of plates from the cupboard, and then walked over to place a kiss on Cammie’s swollen pink lips. She blushed and he thought she was perhaps the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen—even wearing his much too large sweats.

“The power came back on?”

Zach flipped eggs onto the plates. “I was able to switch the circuits to generator power this morning. There should be some hot water for a bath after breakfast.” He winked at her.

He loaded the plates with the toast and bacon he’d kept warming in the oven, and then carried them to the table where Cammie had taken a seat.

“I hope you like over-easy.”

“Everything looks wonderful.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said, eyeing her neck where he’d left a slight bruise. She blushed again and looked away. Either she was shy, or she didn’t want to discuss their union.

“How do you feel this morning?”

She picked up a piece of bacon and chewed on the fatty end. Putting the bacon down, she leveled him with a gray-eyed stare. “I feel good”—she shrugged—“different somehow…good, but different.”

“You look beautiful.”

“You make me feel beautiful.”

“You
are
beautiful.”

She blushed to her chest and he decided to ease up. It was enough to know that he’d made her feel how beautiful she was.

“Is Sawyer still asleep?”

He felt a tentacle of jealously impale his heart at her question during the intimate breakfast they currently shared. Breathing deep he attempted to stow his irritation. “He’s gone out to run an errand.”

With strong resolve, Cammie gathered two slices of toast and petitely dipped her knife into the butter dish. “About the kiss…I never meant—”

Zach extended his hand in the air, “Save it, Cammie. After the night we shared, I’d rather not think about you and him together in that way.”

“Won’t you even let me tell you how it happened?”

Zach stood and walked to the counter using the old
I’m filling my coffee cup
ruse. Truth was, his cup was to the brim because he’d yet to swallow a sip. He lifted the decanter and went through the motions—what an actor he would have made.

“I know you’ve figured out that Sawyer and I have a history when it comes to women. It’s not a good history so if you don’t mind I’d just assume drop the whole thing.

“I can do that. As long as you really mean it.”

“I do.”

“Now stop pouring fake coffee and get over here and eat breakfast with me.”

***

C
ammie helped
Zach clear the table after breakfast. Together they stood at the kitchen sink—Cammie washing, Zach drying. Through the window Cammie stared at the surreal landscape as it sparkled, clear like prism, from the icicles that hung from trees and car fenders and gutters and eaves. The big oak trees loomed heavy with the added weight, the morning still except for the fingers of dripping ice.

“New Orleans covered in ice is a rare sight,” Zach said as he dried silverware.

“I’ve never seen so much ice.”

Muffled voices mixed with their own. Angry voices.

“Sounds like Sawyer’s back,” Zach offered.

Cammie dried her hands. The sheer piercing feminine voice was familiar. She followed the cries and with Zach as a shadow, they entered the parlor room where Sawyer’s raised voice caused the hair at her nape to whirl, his large form blocking the body that belonged to the voice she knew.

“Goddammit Cilla, we’ve been here so many times before. Are you high now?”

“No, I don’t do that anymore.” The small voice countered as Cammie made her way around Sawyer.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m scared.”

Cammie gasped, “Priscilla.” Her makeup was smeared giving her raccoon eyes and overly large lips that looked bee stung.

“Cammie,” she choked and reached for her old school friend.

Boom. Boom. Boom
. Three bass filled booms filled the parlor and the three inhabitants of 212 Orleans Street all turned their heads toward the source of the sound.

Huge brown eyes, bright with tears met her own. “I have to talk to him.”

“Who?”

“Gage.”

“Gage is here?”

Sawyer cracked his knuckles and squared his stance, “Invite the asshole in.”

Zach stood toe to toe with the man that caused Cammie’s eyes to grow large, aware he could demand something from her she couldn’t produce—the money or the drugs that she and Zach flushed down the toilet.

Priscilla went up to Gage and he opened his arms to her. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He was gentle with her and that surprised Cammie because she’d never imagined his voice could be soft.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Sawyer answered. “You’re dealing. I won’t have Cilla mixed up in that shit.”

Gage’s meaty fist sailed through the air and pounded into Sawyer’s jaw, knocking him off of his feet. As large as he was he managed to hit the ground on all fours and then roll right into standing. He took a protective stance.

Priscilla jumped between them, “Please don’t.”

“I owe him a jab Cilla, get behind me.”

“No, Sawyer. Let me go.”

“Go?”

“I belong with Gage.”

The blow Cilla dealt hit him harder than Gage’s fist.

“No. Cilla, I love you and I know you once loved me.”

Priscilla cupped his jaw. “You’re a nice man Sawyer, but I don’t love you.”

Sawyer’s chest deflated in defeat. He slowly took a few steps backward, the truth blow so heavy it pushed him into the couch.

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” Priscilla admitted.

“Just go.” He wouldn’t look at her.

Gage opened his arm to her, leading her toward the door. He abruptly stopped and turned toward Cammie. At his stare, sweat broke out across her upper lip and her dry swallow scratched like a cat’s tongue.

“You owe me a thousand.”

Zach stepped in front of her, but Cammie shook her head and said, “I don’t have it.”

“Gage.” Priscilla placed her open palm on his chest and on tipped toes whispered something in his ear.

Cammie’s mother was a fan of adages. One in particular did apply in this case:
You can’t help those who won’t help themselves.

Maybe that was true, but Cammie didn’t believe Priscilla was helpless because she’d seen her friend helpless and she’d seen her determined. This Priscilla was
determined
and it left Cammie wondering what she was so determined about. She skipped to the door, before they could get away, and wrapped her arms around her friend who was going through something she wasn’t quite ready to share.

Later that night Cammie was still reeling from the events of the day and she took comfort from watching an oldie but goodie,
Legally Blonde
.

Zach sat on the couch and Cammie sat between his legs on the floor—his suggestion so that he could massage her shoulders and neck. She was in heaven, or what she thought her version of heaven would include—a hot guy, her favorite movie, and a massage.

“This movie is ridiculous.”

“Hey, it’s not as ridiculous as
Fast and Furious 48
.”

“There are not forty eight.”

“Close.”

She paused the movie and stood to her knees. “Do you think Sawyer is going to be okay?”

“You like him, don’t you?” Zach crossed his arms.

“He’s really nice. He’s also your cousin. Don’t you worry?”

“I wouldn’t worry. He’s gone to nurse his broken heart down in the Caribbean.”

“The Caribbean!”

Zach shrugged like this was an ordinary revelation. “He said it was a much too cold winter.”

“Tell me about you and Gage.”

“What do you want to know?”

She sat back on her heels, thinking. “How about why you hate him.”

“You mean you couldn’t tell?”

She shook her head and Zach motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch where he took her foot between his hands, massaging. “Gage used to work for me. I mean we sort of started the business together. I was the editor, he did a little acting, but mostly he built our brand.”

“Brand?”

“GenXXX.com.” He pressed his knuckled into the arch of her foot and she moaned at how good it felt. “There was a woman. We’d made a film.” He frowned. “It was a ménage.”

Cammie gasped. “Like you and Gage and the woman.”

“Yeah. We were a thing for a while.”

Her eyes wouldn’t stop blinking.

“I know. It was weird, but it just happened and it felt right for a few months until…”

“Until what?”

“I’m scandalizing you.”

“You are not. I know what a ménage is.”

Zach raised a brow at her. “Did you know there are a lot of drugs passed around behind the set?”

“I kind of figured as much.”

“Well Gage always had it on him, and Leslie—that was the girl’s name—she was an addict. I don’t use anymore and never did much, but Gage doesn’t recognize habits like I do. I tried to tell him Leslie couldn’t manage with the stuff but he wouldn’t listen. Said she was a good fuck and gave the best head of your life when she was on the stuff so he kept her plied.”

At his bluntness, Cammie’s hands instinctively covered her mouth.

“See, I told you my story was scandalous.”

“Sorry.” She sat on her hands. “Please continue.”

“She OD’d.”

“What?”

“Leslie died.”

He tried to remain cool but his green eyes burned with unshed tears as he squinted to clear the sensation. He pushed two fingers into his brown and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Zach.”

“Thank you. I like having you here.”

“I like being here.”

They were both beat and tired so after their heart to heart and the long emotional day, they went to their separate bedrooms. She wanted to be with him but couldn’t tell if he wanted her or needed to be alone. Before she committed to her room, she went in search of his iPhone and used it to call Priscilla. When it went to voicemail she almost gave up but a text popped up.

Priscilla: What’s up?

Cammie: It’s Cammie. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.

Priscilla: I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m not using if that helps.

Cammie: I know but you looked kind of down and I just want to let you know I’m here.

Priscilla: Not down, worried. I love Gage. I won’t leave him.

Cammie: I get it.

Priscilla: He needs me. I’m trying to help him rehab. Send up good thoughts when you think about me. I’ll need them.

Cammie: Of course.

Priscilla: BTW I’m having your backpack sent over.

Cammie: Thx

Cammie cleared the messages and sent up a prayer for her friend and for her friend’s lover. And Cammie did understand because she was in love herself. If Zach had needed help fighting addiction, she’d have been right by his side the entire ride.