Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

DAYRA

Zane is snoring on the couch in his mom’s house and I stare around the living room at all of the photos of him, his brother, and his sister growing up. They look so close and their mom is in so many of the photos with them. I do notice the one thing missing is his dad and I wonder what happened to him. The house is decorated with Christmas décor, the tree in the corner of the room is fluffy and tall and full of the most beautiful silver and gold decorations.

There’s a Santa in a sleigh statue on the old brick mantle and a string of Christmas lights across the ceiling in the whole room, giving it that holiday feel.

“I’m Missy, by the way,” his mom says, tossing a blanket over Zane and turning off the lamp.

“I’m Dayra.”

“Thank you so much for taking care of him this evening,” his mom says as we walk into the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s no problem. My cousin is the bartender and she called me when she noticed he was a little too drunk to drive.”

“So you weren’t at the bar with him?”

I shake my head. “No ma’am. I wasn’t.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asks, standing at the coffee pot pouring a cup.

“That would be lovely.”

She pours a second cup and sets it on the table, motioning for me to sit. I oblige, because I’m in her home and I just brought her very drunk, adult son home to her. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I guess I’ll figure it out. Besides, I’ve been in a lot more awkward situations. Like the one Zane put me in this evening beneath the stairwell. Well… i don’t know if awkward is the right term for what that was. My cheeks flood with warmth and I try and focus on something else so that she doesn’t see my embarrassment.

“I won’t interrogate you, I’ll save that for Zane when he sobers up,” she says with a smile. Her hair is a perfect mixture of blonde and grey and her eyes are the same shade of grey as Zane’s and I feel a fondness for her.

“Good deal,” I say, exhaling exaggeratedly.

Missy smiles at me with a warmth in her eyes and I can’t but feel a pang of jealousy for how motherly she must be toward her children. Unlike my mother who picks and chooses who gets her warmth, if you can even call it that.

“I’ll get him to his truck in the morning. And I’m taking the long way around so I can torment him a little.”

“I think that’s a great idea. With as much as he torments me at work, I think it’s a welcome thought he’ll get a little bit of a taste of his own medicine.”

Missy tilts her head to the side a bit. “You two work together?”

I nod. “Yes ma’am. He’s one of my bosses.”

“Interesting.”

My cheeks redden, somehow feeling like she is looking right through me. Like she can see us together at work. I take a sip of my coffee and we sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“It’s getting late. I’m going to head home. I just wanted to make sure he got somewhere safely.”

“Thank you, Dayra. It was so very nice to meet you. I look forward to seeing you again.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just smile at her and nod. She walks me to the door and I head to my car. The drive back to town feels oddly lonely. It’s not that I haven’t made this drive a hundred times over, with Missy’s house being only a few minutes away from Aunt Cindy and Uncle Ken’s. It’s funny how you never quite know who’s just around the corner. A few houses down. Of all the places for him to have grown up, and somehow I never ran into him.

I drive home with so many conflicted feelings. About Zane. About how small the world is. About how I can feel something like this for someone that I despise ninety percent of the time. How someone who can be so crude and ugly can also be so attractive and kind in his own way. I decide to call my best friend for the rest of the drive because one, she needs to hear all of the things that have been happening since I’ve been MIA.

Maia answers on the first ring. “Spill. Now!” she demands.

I do just that. I tell her how the THD has been tormenting me and about the moment we had under the stairwell, about him getting drunk and everything that’s happened since I last talked to her.

“You had a moment ?!” She squeaks the last word.

“I don’t know what it was. But it was fucking hot and it shouldn’t have been.”

“Bestie! I thought we hated him. We do hate him, right?”

I sigh. “Right.” But even as I say the word, I know that it’s a lie, at least in some form or fashion. You can’t hate someone that elicits these types of feelings, can you? My brain is a mess of mush by the time I pull into my driveway.

Reese Piecie greets me at the front door as if I weren’t here a few hours earlier snuggling with her and watching Christmas movies. I smile and give her pets as she wags her tail standing on the arm of the couch. She stands on her hind legs and nuzzles her face beneath my chin, my sweet snuggly girl.

I forget about the war going on inside of my mind as I change clothes and crawl back into bed. I press play for the last twenty minutes of the movie I was watching and doze off before it’s over.

The morning comes quickly, and it takes everything in me not to snooze my alarm. I shower and half-ass blow dry my hair, pulling it into a clip for the day. I put on a small bit of makeup, some eyeliner and mascara and a tinted chapstick so that I look presentable. I opt to wear a grey sweater dress with a pair of black leggings and boots. It’s snowing outside and Reese hates the snow even more than I do. She takes forever as I yell for her to hurry up from the porch.

She comes barreling inside, shivering and shaking off snow on her way through the door. Brat. I quickly mop the melted snow and grab a towel to dry off her tiny paws. I take off her sweater and toss it into the washing machine by the back door before heading out to work.

My stomach is in knots as I drive to the office. I don’t know how Zane is going to be today. Is he going to be angry that he was drunk and take it out on me? Is he going to ignore me? Do I even care? Yes. That was rhetorical. I do care. I don’t know why I want his approval, or attention, or whatever it is that I find myself longing for. But, I want it more than almost anything.

Maybe I should just suggest we have a hate-fuck session and get it out of our system. No. That’s ridiculous. I shake my head as if that will shake the thought from my mind, but it’s too late. That image is seared into my brain. The fantasy of Zane bending me over his desk flutters through my mind like a butterfly through a garden. I’m hyper-fixated on the scene that is ever-changing. In my mind, we go from me being bent over to me riding him in his office chair. I clench my thighs together tightly, instantly wet for him. I try and escape fantasy land in my mind, but it has me in a chokehold. I want his body so bad. I want to feel him beneath me, powerless as I make him feel things he didn’t know he could feel.

I sit in my parking spot in the parking lot at work and try and control my emotions. Is sexual arousal an emotion? I take a deep breath and exit my car, shutting the door behind me a little harder than normal. I trudge through the snow and am freezing by the time I sit down at my desk. I turn on the small heater at my feet and put my hands down closer to it to warm them before getting my day started.

I hide away in my office all day, nervous as to how seeing Zane is going to go. I’m so caught up in focusing on my work that I worked through lunch and didn’t realize it. It isn’t until almost three o’clock that I notice I’m starving. I had so much to finalize for our marketing campaign for this month that I forgot about everything, which worked out well since now I have a knot in my stomach all over again.

I open my office door and peek out, like a teenager trying to sneak out of her parents house and not get caught. It’s a little ridiculous, if we’re being honest.

The coast is clear and I opt to take the back way out, to avoid running into anyone coming in the front entrance. I pull open the door to the stairwell and walk down the stairs gently. I’m almost safe when the door at the bottom of the stairs opens and it’s Zane walking through the door. His eyes lock on mine, stopping me in my tracks.

We stare at each other for a moment in silence, both of us standing right where we were when we locked eyes. Neither of us moving toward the other. I break the eye contact and walk the rest of the way down the stairs. Zane is standing at the foot of the stairs and doesn’t move when I stop on the bottom step.

The air is charged with electricity, and I swear we could create our own electrical storm.

“Avoiding people?” I ask.

“Are you?”

I shrug. “I’m fond of the stairwell.”

His eyes darken at my words and he steps closer to me.

“So am I,” he whispers.

Without warning, he grabs me by the throat and kisses me. I moan at the feel of his hand around my neck and his lips on mine. They’re so soft and gentle as our kiss deepens. Our tongues dance together, and he lifts me by the waist. I wrap my legs around him and my hands fist in his hair. He walks us underneath the stairwell, back in the same spot from yesterday.

Zane pins me against the wall, his body weight holding me in place. He grips either side of my face, kissing me like I’m the only thing he’s ever needed in his life.

He breaks our kiss, trailing kisses down my jaw, to my neck.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the fucking day I met you,” he whispers, flicking his tongue across my neck then sucking it gently.

I exhale in a pant beneath his touch, aching for him.

“You hate me,” I moan softly. It isn’t a question as much as it is a statement.

He grabs the collar of my dress and pulls it to the side, exposing my collarbone and shoulder to him. He nips at my shoulder near my neck.

“Yes,” he breathes.

“I hate you,” I cry as his hand slips beneath my dress.

“Good,” he grits, pulling my lips back to his. One hand on my face, the other on his belt buckle. I hear the rustling of his belt and pants then his zipper. Adrenaline courses through my veins at the realization of what’s happening. Is this really happening?

Zane’s cold hands grip at the hem of my leggings. He pauses, staring at me, an unspoken question. I nod and he drags them down my legs. His fingers find me wet and aching for him. I squeal at the cold intrusion but welcome it as he dips a finger inside me. I lean my head back against the concrete wall.

The fantasy of Zane bending me over dances across my mind and my eyes fly open.

“Bend me over,” I whisper, staring at him. Watching and waiting for his reaction.

He grips my hips and spins me around, hiking my sweater dress up. Exposing me to him.

“Fuck, Dayra. You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he groans, teasing my entrance with the head of his cock. He rubs it back and forth between my clit and my wetness. I’m building already. God, this is too good.

“ Yessss ,” I moan, placing my hands on the wall to steady myself.

I’m so close. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by a man and it’s absolutely fucking euphoric. I swear I’m seeing stars every time his head grazes my clit.

“That’s so fucking good,” I moan, pressing my pussy back into him.

“You want me to fuck this little pussy?” he asks, his tone rough and commanding.

“Yes,” I answer, grinding my hips against his cock.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Zane,” I answer, hoping that was what he was looking for.

“I fucking love it when you say my name,” he whispers, easing into me.

I suck in a breath as he fills me entirely. Slowly. Fully. I grind my hips against him, moaning at how good it feels for him to be so deep.

He’s thick and just the right length, hitting that deep spot inside of me without being painful. He groans as I circle my hips again.

“Fuck!” He whispers, burying his face into the nape of my neck.

His grip on my hips tightens and he begins pumping in and out, slowly at first then he finds a rhythm. I’m embarrassed at how fast I’m about to come, but it feels so good I can’t stop it.

“Yeah, tighten that pussy around me, Dayra,” he moans as my orgasm builds. It’s winding tightly inside of me and I’m so close to tumbling over the edge.

“I’m coming,” I whimper, trying to grip the wall but it’s too slick. I need to do something before I scream his name for the whole office to hear.

“Oh, fuck yeah. Come for me, babygirl,” he commands and I am putty in his hands, my orgasm shaking me to my core. I sink my teeth into my arm to stifle the screams that threaten to echo through the halls of this stairwell. I come so hard that I don’t know how I keep myself upright.

Zane pounds into me harder, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around us. I’m still coming around him. “Fuck, I’m coming with you,” he grunts and pulls out.

I drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. His hand fists in my hair as he spills down my throat. I suck him until he jerks and slowly pulls out of my mouth.

I glance up at him, the satiated look on his face making me want to do it all over again. I’m on a high from my orgasm and even more of a high from Zane calling me babygirl. I could’ve melted right then and there, and technically, I did.

Zane places a hand on my cheek, a gesture of admiration I wasn’t expecting but find welcoming just the same. He blinks a few times and smiles at me.

“Holy shit.”

I nod in agreement, offering him a grin. I stand up, pulling my leggings up. Zane pulls his slacks up and zips them, pressing the front of them to try and unwrinkle them. I pull the hem of my sweater dress down and wipe the back of my mouth with my hand.

“I hate you,” I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I know,” he whispers, kissing me again.

Neither one of us speak another word. We separate and he goes upstairs while I go out the back door. And somehow, all is right in my world again.