Chapter 54

CHAPTER 54

ZAYN

M y body craved her. It was the kind of need you couldn't just shut off. I didn't give a shit we were in a bank in some supervisor's office.

I needed her.

I needed to feel her against me, close, one last time. The way her body fit perfectly against mine, it was like she was made for me. And maybe she was. Maybe everything that had happened between us, all the ups and downs, the twists and turns, led us to this very moment.

The magnetic pull between us that neither one of us could seem to resist.

I stepped away from her and locked the door before I made sure the blinds were closed tightly. She looked at me. I saw heat flash in her eyes.

She was thinking the exact same thing I was. I reached for her again, grabbed her face, and kissed her.

Our lips collided with an urgency that bordered on desperation. The intensity grew until it became a blazing inferno that consumed us.

Her hands ran through my hair, tugging gently and driving me wilder. Her response, so passionate and unrestrained, made it impossible for me to think straight. I was intoxicated by her taste, the sensation of her body pressed against mine, the scent of her.

I jerked her shirt up, sliding my hands up and over her skin. I pushed her bra up, freeing her breasts.

I knew right where to touch her to pull a groan from her lips.

Her hands left my hair and began unbuttoning her shirt with shaky fingers. I watched as one button after another was opened, revealing more and more of her creamy skin. She wriggled out of her shirt, standing half naked before me. The sight of her took my breath away.

I slowly lifted her onto the desk, pushing aside the scattered papers and files carelessly. Whoever's office this was, I would slip them a hefty donation for the mess we made. Bankers would do anything for the right amount.

Our coats dropped to the floor. Marigold leaned back onto her hands, watching me with hooded eyes as my fingers began working at the button of her jeans. She lifted her hips. I yanked them off along with her panties, leaving her lower half naked. Her blouse hung open and her bra sat above her breasts. The sight had me aching with want.

I would have loved to strip her naked, but we were technically surrounded by people. They were smart enough not to try bothering us, but just in case there was a bank robbery or something, we had to show a little restraint.

She bit her lip in anticipation as I undid my pants, freeing my rock-hard length. I stepped closer, gazing into her eyes, and kissed her. My hands slid down her sides and around to her back. I couldn't touch her enough.

I lifted her easily, bringing her closer to my body. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms clinging tightly around my neck. The shift brought us to the perfect height. I slid into her with a groan of pleasure.

She echoed my groan, her nails digging into my back. Our bodies moved in rhythm, slow and steady at first. Our breaths heavy, the room filled with the sound of our whispers and soft cries. Our eyes remained locked, communicating more than words ever could.

She threw her head back, exposing the curve of her neck with a soft moan. I seized the opportunity to feast on her flushed skin. As her moaning got louder, I slid my palm over her mouth to keep the whole bank from hearing.

Even muffled, the primal sounds escaping her throat sent heat coursing through my veins. Her body arched, hips bucking against mine in sync with my thrusts. I could never get enough of her. Each slide, each press of our bodies sent me spiraling deeper into a delicious whirlwind of need and desire.

With a soft whimper, she urged me on. I increased my pace, answering her silent plea. Her legs tightened around me, urging me on. I welcomed the sweet pain, the raw passion mirrored in her eyes. She was falling apart beneath me, shattered by the overwhelming wave of pleasure, and I was right there with her.

I couldn't believe we were here together again. It felt like a dream but the taste of her was very real. So was the thrill of fucking like this in a semi-public place. We rarely got chances in life to fix our past mistakes, but this sure felt like a step toward healing the wounds I'd caused.

The rhythm of our bodies became frantic as we rushed headlong into ecstasy. The office echoed with the sound of our ragged breaths and low growls. Neither of us seemed to care that there was a bank full of people just outside the door. Not anymore. Things were coming to a head.

"Zayn." She groaned my name, the sound triggering something deep inside me.

Her voice, pleading and husky with desire, was like dumping gasoline on a raging fire. The sound of my name on her lips sent me plunging over the edge. I buried my face in her shoulder as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure washed over me.

Every nerve ending was electrified. Her ragged breaths against my ear and the soft tremors still shaking her body took my breath away.

Slowly, the tremors subsided. Her body was slumped against mine. I held her close, kissing the top of her head.

Then, she started laughing. "Oh my God!"

I had to laugh as well. "We'll definitely have to give this bank a five-star review."

"Are you kidding? I'll never be able to walk into this bank again."

"I'll leave them a check for the inconvenience," I said. "Bankers all have a price for their morals."

"You're going to pay them for letting us use the office?" she asked as I stepped back.

I paused and looked at her. "I don't know. Is that a terrible idea?"

She rolled her eyes as she hopped off the desk and started to pick up her clothes. "I think in this case, that might make things worse. Then they will definitely know. Right now, we have plausible deniability."

"Good point," I said, zipping up my pants. "We'll just pretend nothing happened. If they can smell the sex in the air, so be it."

I watched as she redid her buttons meticulously, her gaze flickering to my semi-dressed form before looking away quickly. She was flustered. It was amusing to see her so out of sorts. I was still reeling from seeing her again. Up until that phone call, I had been sure she was out of the city already.

I had shown up here expecting to bare my soul to her. Tearing into each other on a stranger's desk might not be forgiveness, but I would take what I could get from her.

As she bent down to pick up the scattered files and papers, I moved behind her to help, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against me. The sudden contact elicited a small gasp from her lips which brought a devilish grin onto my face.

"Zayn," she warned with playful exasperation. "No. We are getting out of here. I don't know how I'm going to hold my head up. Maybe I can sneak out the back."

"We'll pretend nothing happened," I said. "No one knows for certain."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

I opened the office door first. Everyone appeared to be going about their business like nothing was amiss. But even if they only suspected before, they knew for certain after getting one look at Marigold. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair disheveled from our impulsive encounter, and there was no hiding the glow that spread across her face. I draped my arm around her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to me—and truth be told, she absolutely was.

I nodded once at the supervisor as I guided Marigold through the bank. She mostly kept her head down, revealing her embarrassment.

"They knew," she whispered as we stepped outside.

"Nah. And who cares?"

"It's just a little embarrassing."

"I can buy the whole bank and fire everyone if you want," I said, realizing I did put her in that position. "Just say the word."

"It's fine," she said. "They don't deserve to lose their jobs just because I can't control myself around you."

I led her to my car. She looked like she was still trying to catch her breath, her lips slightly parted, the aftermath of what had just happened between us written all over her face.

I was no stranger to the fire that flared up between us, but this time it had been different. It felt more real, raw. There had been nothing holding either of us back. We just let our emotions run wild.

Then again, the passion between us was never the problem. It was figuring out our real emotions and what we wanted that tripped us up. It was uncharted territory for me, and she didn't seem like she'd had a ton of relationships before. It seemed like we would have to explore things together, although I wasn't sure if that was possible with her in Wyoming.

"You're coming home with me tonight," I told her. I wanted her in my space, in my bed. "I'm cooking dinner, and afterward, I'm going to make love to you properly, in my bed. I'll show you how good it can be with me."

She stopped walking, her hand slipping from mine. I felt the hesitation ripple through her before I even turned around to face her. Her expression had shifted, the glow from before dimming as she looked up at me, conflicted.

"This doesn't fix everything, Zayn," she said softly. There was something in her voice that made my chest tighten. "I need more time to think this through."

My stomach dropped a little, but I didn't let it show. This was more complicated than I wanted it to be, but I couldn't blame her. I had dragged her through chaos these past few weeks. I couldn't expect a wild romp in a stranger's office to just magically fix everything. "I get that. You need time, and I'll give you all the time you need. But tonight, stay with me."

She shook her head. "It's not just about time. I made promises to my dad. He's depending on me, Zayn. And for the first time in years, he's excited about something. I can't just go back on my word now."

She had a point. Her father meant the world to her, and I had no right to pull her away from that. But at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that if I let her slip through my fingers now, I'd regret it for the rest of my life.

I stepped closer, taking her hands in mine, my thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "Marigold, I understand," I said. "You're right. You've made promises to your dad, and he deserves to have you there with him. But that doesn't mean we have to keep each other at arm's length."

She looked up at me. I thought I saw her resolve waver.

"I'm not asking you to choose between me and your dad," I continued. "I'm just asking you to let me in. Let me take care of you. You don't have to figure all of this out right now. The choice is still yours. But I do love you. I want to be with you, however that looks."

She glanced down at our joined hands. I could tell she was weighing it all out in her mind, trying to balance the promises she had made against whatever it was we had between us. The tension between us was palpable, like a rubber band stretched too tight, threatening to snap at any moment.

I just prayed it snapped in my favor. Maybe I didn't deserve another chance at proving my love to her, but I sure as hell would fight for one.

After what felt like an eternity, she exhaled softly, then leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. It wasn't the fiery kiss from earlier—it was something softer, something that spoke of uncertainty but also longing. When she pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"I'll follow you home," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't make me regret this."

Before I could say anything else, she turned and walked toward her car. I stood there for a moment, watching her, feeling like I had just won a battle I hadn't expected to fight. She wasn't ready to give up on us yet. That was enough for me right now. I was going to follow my heart.

The damn thing better not lead me astray.

I slid into my Porsche, watching as she got into her car. I pulled out of the parking lot, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure she was behind me.

The drive to my place was short, and before I knew it, we were at my building. I led her inside with neither of us saying a word. Once the door closed behind us, I turned to face her. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, but there was something else there too. A flicker of hope, maybe. Or maybe it was just desire, the same desire that had pulled us together in the bank.

"Come on," I said, gesturing toward the kitchen. "I meant what I said about dinner."