The words ring out in my head, all the voices that have said them to me echoing like a choir.
No. No no no.
This is not the time to be stupid and freak out. This is different. This is good. This isZach.
“DeeDee?” He speaks into my hair as I go still underneath him. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” I swallow the panic down. I take a deep breath of his scent. Then I slide my hands to his butt and smack it. “Just waiting for you to take this all off, baby!”
He snorts. “And you sayI’mthe dork.”
I give him another smack. “You are.”
Even in the midst of losing our minds over each other’s bodies, we still keep slipping into all our jokes and weirdness. Even as we let ourselves become something new and deep and powerful, we’re still just Zach and DeeDee. We’re still us.
We’re okay.
He starts to rock against me again, and I let out a moan as I slip back into the moment.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I rasp. I wiggle down on the mattress so I can trail my lips across his chest, and at the first swirl of my tongue, his head falls back and he groans.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he pants.
“Tant pis. Not a bad way to go.”
I press on his shoulders, and he takes the hint to flop onto his back. I follow right after him, making my way down his stomach as I keep kissing and licking him. When I reach the waistband of his jeans and sweep my tongue along the skin just above it, he sits straight up on the bed like he’s been shocked. One of his hands braces on the wall behind him while the other buries itself in my hair and pulls—hard.
My thighs clench, and I swear I see sparks fly as a need hotter and darker than anything I’ve felt for him before shoots through me.
“Shit, sorry.” He lets go as suddenly as he grabbed me. “I just...Fuck, that felt so good.”
I look up at him, my eyes just hazy slits. His are glittering with the same wild need running through me.
“Don’t be sorry,” I murmur, lifting one of corner of my mouth into a smirk. “I like it a little rough.”
Then I push myself up so I’m kneeling in front of him and pull my shirt over my head.
“Oh...god.”
I watch him stare at my black bra. His jaw goes slack and his chest heaves. It’s not even a fancy bra, but I feel like I’m wearing the sexiest underwear in the world with him drinking the sight of me in. He looks like he’s a computer that’s too busy buffering to handle any new information. He stares and stares and stares for so long that I start to chuckle, a little worried that my boobs may have broken him.
“Zach?” He doesn’t do anything except blink when I say his name. “You’re supposed to do things to them.”
“Things?” he repeats, still not taking his eyes off my chest.
“Yeah. Sexy things.”
“Right. Sexy things.”
He shakes his head and launches back into action. Reaching for my waist, he pulls me forward until he’s straddling me. His face is level with my chest now, and I start panting just as hard as him when I feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. I want his mouth there. I want his tongue and his teeth.
He slides one hand into my hair again, tugging enough that I arch my back and bare my throat to him with a sigh. He licks his way down my neck before sweeping his tongue just over the edge of my bra cups, like he’s delivering payback for what I did with his jeans.
When he pulls my hair a little harder, I can’t hold back a violent stream of French curses.
“Encore, encore, encore,” I start to chant.
Again, again.
