Chapter Twenty-Three

Honey

Sitting on my gray velvet chaise lounge, I reread the same sentence in my history book for what feels like the hundredth time. I can't concentrate, and it's not because I'm bored or failing this class. It's because Zach's all-consuming presence is sitting next to me, his arm occasionally grazing my thigh with every page he turns. How the hell is he getting through so much of this text while I sit here sweating bullets because I can't stop thinking about him?

Focus, Honey.

I widen my eyes, staring straight at the words, determined to at least read this paragraph, but then Zach turns another page and his citrus shower gel wafts through the air. Squeaky clean after his practice, something about the twinkle in his eyes compelled me to invite him over and study tonight. It surprised me when he said yes, considering all his commitments , but I didn't question it.

He even happily agreed to have dinner with my parents when my mother saw us walk into the house with our hands clasped together. She probed him the whole time, and it wasn't because she was interested. She wanted to get some dirt. I know she doesn't approve of us long-term, and weirdly, she still thinks there's a flicker of hope that Jamie and I will be together. No doubt, she and my father expect everything to fizzle out between Zach and me before the start of college, and they'd be right. We aren't going past prom, but until then… it's nice. Nice to have someone around I can talk to, and nice to do and say whatever I want with him.

"Why did you come here today?" I ask, dropping my textbook in my lap to focus all my attention on Zach. He takes his time to look up from his notes, reading off a section before facing me with a smile.

"What do you mean, Tinkerbell?" His green eyes twinkle with interest, and I melt when I look into them.

"It's just that you're usually busy after school with commitments , but you agreed to study with me and have dinner with my parents."

"What can I say? I like being quizzed by your dad. He seems absolutely perplexed by my NFL ambitions." That's an understatement. My dad doesn't do sports and can't see why anyone would want to degrade themselves for billionaire team owners. He clearly doesn't see that he does the exact same thing, just with a different set of billionaires.

Zach taps his finger against my thigh. "I also figured that if we were really dating, we'd still need your parents to believe it. Your mom always talks about how close they are to Jamie's parents. Did you know on your birthday she told me they planned to have you and Jamie at the same time with the intention that you'd get married?" He shakes his head, looking up to the sky. "That's some fucked-up rich people shit right there."

My cheeks pinken. "She didn't say that, did she?"

He shrugs. "Not in so many words, but your mom made it very clear that you and Jamie are endgame and I'm just a temporary bad-boy fantasy come to life." He smiles, trying to pass it off as nothing, but I can see that the comment upset him. I know he hates when people underestimate him, and that's exactly what my mother does.

"What did you say to her when she implied that?"

"Told her that decision was up to you, and I'm here as long as you'll have me."

If I had the choice, I'd keep him longer than I should, but I know he's not up for that. "Good to know."

"Besides, if we were really dating, I'd be over here all the time trying to get into your pants, and your mom would be bitching to Jamie's mom about it. Got to keep it real if we don't want people questioning us."

"Are people questioning us?"

He shifts in his seat. "Jamie is, but that's because he knows about the bet. He's getting surprisingly overprotective of you."

I snort. "Jamie only cares about losing. He's never cared about me."

"Think what you want, Buttercup, but it's obvious Jamie hates me touching what he thinks is his."

"Oh, and I'm his?"

"Of course not. You're your own person, but it's fun messing with him." Zach drops his chin to read his textbook, and I go back to reading the same sentence over again. "He's lucky I'm not actually dating you because the things I'd do to you would make him want to kill me," Zach mumbles.

Silence falls between us, and I gulp. Those words make me hot. A prickling sensation makes its way down my back, as I wonder what he's referring to. He's already rocked my world once without trying. What more could he do?

"What would you do?" Heat rises in my cheeks, but I'm not sure if it's from embarrassment or because he's turned me on with that short sentence.

"What do you mean?" He doesn't look up from his textbook, so he's either not listening or he's not interested. I'll assume it's the former.

Shifting my weight onto my knee, I face him and say, "What would you do to me if we were really dating?" He looks up just as I push my tongue out to lick my lips. "I already know how far you'd go without the commitment , so tell me more."

Goose bumps flood my skin. There's a tiny part of me that's worried he will reject me, but I'm intrigued now.

A small smile curves at the edges of his lips; he knows exactly what I want, and judging by the look in his eyes, he wants it too. "Well." He starts on a chuckle, then casually pushes the hair off my left shoulder and brings his nose to my ear, nuzzling against it. "If we were really dating…" His husky voice makes me drop my textbook to the side, and his hand quickly replaces the paper as he draws lazy circles with his thumb around my knee. The way he's touching me isn't new, especially after the other night, but it still makes my heart leap out of my chest when I feel his warm hand against my skin. "I'd ask you what you were thinking about in class today."

I close my eyes as I let out a long sigh. His breath tickles the back of my neck in the most delicious way. "In history?" I ask because it's the only one we shared today. My eyes are still closed when he responds with a low vibrating hum.

"I was thinking about this assignment and how much I didn't want to read the chapter tonight." Not that I thought I'd have Zach sitting here rubbing my thigh, though.

"You know, if you were really my girlfriend, I'd tell you how much I was thinking about you instead of concentrating on Miss Winters."

I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove, then stare at him skeptically. He laughs, nuzzling into my neck until I squeal. "Good thing I'm not your real girlfriend, then."

His thumb stops moving, and his breathing slows. I don't know why, but I immediately regret my words because I'm worried it will make him stop, and I don't want that. "I know you're not," he says. "Doesn't mean I don't like playing make-believe." He leaves the softest of kisses across my neck, his thumb grazing over my knee again. "But we can stop if you don't want to play anymore?"

His hand slips away, and I grab his wrist before it can get too far. "Don't stop," I grit out, unable to look at him for how wanton I must look. "What else were you thinking about?" I drop my head to the gold-painted edge of the chaise lounge, concentrating all my thoughts on how good it feels having his hands skate across my body.

"I'm not sure you want to know."

"Oh, I do."

He leans in closer, his body pressing against mine. I can almost hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "I was imagining you sitting on my desk in front of me." I inhale deeply because his hand creates wider circles on my thigh, cutting close to my skirt. "Your legs were wide open, and you were begging for me to let you come on my tongue."

"Oh, god." I think I would have fainted at his words if my head wasn't already resting on the ledge. He's teasing me now, and I'm letting him because it feels so good.

Testing the waters, Zach's fingers trickle up my thigh, and my legs part farther. The feel of Zach's breath across my heated skin and his dirty talk have me embarrassingly wet.

Just as his fingers reach the edges of my skirt, he drops his hand back down to my knee cap.

It's sweet, utter torture.

I bite my bottom lip, hoping it will suppress the moan bubbling up my throat. "Oh yeah? Did you grant my request?" It comes out strained, but I'm happy I got it out because I'd like to think I can be just as seductive.

His hand trails back to the hem of my skirt; this time, the tip of his finger sits just underneath it. "Do you want me to?" The implication in his tone is clear. He's checking that I want this, even though we've done things before.

"Yes." It comes out quiet but confident. We've done this before. No feelings. No commitments . Just fun.

Tension fills the air as his fingers brush my skirt.

Is he going to do this now that I've given him the green light?

I gasp when Zach's hand dips under my skirt, going higher until he feels the lace of my panties at the top of my thigh. "You know, if you were my real girlfriend, I'd shift this little piece of fabric to the side and feel just how wet your pretty pink pussy is."

My head falls back to the sofa and my thighs tremble. I feel the slightest graze against my panties, and I already want to melt into him. Worried all he will do is torture me, I shift a little, hoping his fingers accidentally slip under the fabric, but he knows what I'm doing and holds his ground.

He watches me writhe as I wait for his next move, whining out his name. He grins, and I can tell he's enjoying this.

Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispers, "Are you wet for me, Honey?"

I finally take the chance to open my eyes and give him a teasing smile. I can be just as dirty and torturous as him. "Why don't you find out?" I kiss the corner of his mouth.

He wets his lips and flicks his gaze to the hand resting under my skirt. He's questioning whether I'm serious, so I give him a little encouragement. I lift my hips, letting my panties catch on the side of his finger so it scrapes my center ever so slightly.

His thick fingers send shockwaves across my middle, and I'm ready to feel him touch me again. Zach bites his bottom lip on a moan, tipping his chin up before moving down to kiss the side of my neck. "You're going to have to be really quiet if you want me to do this."

"Why?" I ask, running my hands through his hair and pulling at the strands ever so slightly.

"Because your mom will hear if we're too loud." I have no time to argue because he does it. He slowly, so, so slowly moves my panties to the side, and a slight bite of cold air hits my wet center. He still hasn't touched me where it counts, so my hips buck up, begging for attention. "Are you sure you want to keep pretending?" he asks one more time.

I bite my bottom lip, nodding furiously as I groan out. I must look pathetic, but something about Zach's smile makes me so damn horny that I don't care. I nearly cry out when his finger skates across me so lightly that if I weren't concentrating, I might not notice. Soft tingles radiate through my center toward my belly and thighs. I close my eyes, focusing on his touch, and I swear I lose all ability to move. When two of his fingers gently press inside me, I nearly combust. His palm pushes into my clit while his fingers stroke me from the inside.

I can barely breathe, let alone function.

"You're so wet," Zach mumbles into my neck, swiping my skin with his tongue. I can only take in short pants of air as I close my eyes, trying to maintain control, but whenever I think I'm okay, his fingers stroke me from the inside, hitting that little spot that makes me want to explode.

Embarrassingly, I'm already close to the edge. With the tension over the last few days building and Zach's nimble fingers, I know it won't take him long. "I-I can't." I hardly get it out, too lost in the feeling of his warm hand covering my center and the sound of his fingers moving inside me. That's when his lips meet mine, quietening me. His tongue slides into my mouth, teasing me in the same rhythm as his fingers.

I'm so close my legs quiver, my stomach bottoms out, and I take in a sharp inhale.

"Hunniford!" The moment washes away, and my whole body clams up when my mother's shrill voice ruins the mood.

Zach leans back onto the chez lounge, pretending he's reading like before. Only this time, there's one big difference. His fingers are still buried inside me, twitching every now and again.

My mom's footsteps get closer, so I throw a book over my lap before she gets to the door. "Yes, Mother?" I say, trying to sound more bored than aroused, which is hard, considering Zach's tickling me from the inside, and the only thing covering that is my textbook.

"I've got to go to the club to pick up some items for a charity drive." When I look over my shoulder, she's standing in the doorway. The only good thing about this situation is that she can't see a thing from her angle. "Are you two going to be okay for a few minutes?" Funny, she's never come to check on me before. "I won't be long at all." She emphasizes, and I almost laugh at how desperately she's trying to sound like she cares when she hasn't noticed the glaringly obvious tinge on my cheeks or the droplets of sweat on my brow.

I can see Zach is still focused on his book from the corner of my eye. The smallest of smirks plays across his lips, and he shifts his shoulder, purposely digging his palm into my clit. I sit up a little straighter, hoping my mother hasn't noticed. "Sure, Mother. That's absolutely fine," I squeak out.

"Once I'm back, we can have after-dinner drinks in the parlor." After-dinner drinks in the parlor? I can only imagine what Zach is thinking. He's probably never hung out in a parlor before, let alone had after-dinner drinks in one. She makes us sound so rich and snobbish.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sanderson." Zach looks over his shoulder, giving my mom an innocent smile. What a suck-up. He's acting like he doesn't have his hand buried inside her daughter. "Unfortunately, I'll have to head home soon due to prior commitments."

My eye twitches at his use of that stupid word again.

"No problem, dear. Football season keeps you busy, after all." She gives him a predatory smile, and Zach takes the opportunity to stroke this little spot inside me, sparking all the neurons in my brain. I whip my head forward and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to moan.

Finally, my mother leaves, and counting her steps is torturous. When I know she's gone for good, I turn to Zach, who's still reading his damn textbook. Here he is acting like nothing's happening while he spoils my panties.

"Zach," I draw out.

"Yes, Turtle?" His voice is measured and casual, and he hasn't bothered to look up, but I know he's doing it on purpose because he circles his palm around my clit, creating the most delicious friction that makes me shift my hips.

When he finally rears his head back enough to look, he withdraws his hand and places it on the edge of my thigh. He takes his hand away and I feel disappointed and empty. That can't be it. I need more. "What are you doing?"

He says nothing, just shuts his textbook and places it on the floor. His eyes flare with intensity, and his jaw flexes. The determination on his face reminds me of when he's on the field. All focus is on me and what he wants to do.

"You know what I'd do to you right now if you were my girlfriend?" His voice is low and feral, and I shift away, wanting a better view. Shaking my head furiously, I clench my teeth, trying not to show how hot he's making me because I don't want him to know he has the upper hand.

He looks over my shoulder to the edge of the chez lounge. "I'd tip you back to the edge of this seat and eat your pussy until your mom came home."

I swallow. My panties are ruined, and he knows it. It's the only thing I've never done, but the one thing I want to feel more than ever.

"Do it." I don't hesitate in the statement because I'm confident I want this. We've experimented enough. I want him to make me feel everything.

Zach grips my hips, slowly guiding my back down to the soft velvet fabric of the chez lounge. My head dangles from the seat, and my hair spills onto the floor. My chest is high in the air, and my legs are spread wide. All I can think is that I hope this lives up to the fantasy he outlined earlier.

He flips up my skirt and pulls my panties down without hesitation. Without warning, his hot, wet tongue tickles my clit, and I gasp. I thought he'd kiss me up the leg first or tease me a little before, but he's as hungry as me.

"Zach," I whisper because it's all I can get out. With the blood rushing to my head and warm hot heat circulating my center, I can't think straight.

His lips suck me in, and he devours me, eating me out like a man possessed. I can't get the words out to tell him this is the best experience of my life because the pleasure is all-consuming. His tongue flicks my clit over and over, and all that arousal has built back up again. Only this time, it's a thousand times stronger.

I crush my eyes shut and hold on to the back of the chez lounge to keep from falling off. Just then, his tongue stills, and my eyes bug open. "Why'd you stop?" I cry, lifting my head just enough to see his smirking face watching me.

"Unbutton your shirt and play with your tits," he commands, so casually I have no other option but to do as he says so he gets back to licking me. Slowly, I unbutton my oxford shirt, revealing my light-blue lace bra underneath. Then I pop my breasts out of the fabric and play with the hardened nubs, throwing my head back over the edge to focus on the sensation.

His body moves down, and his hands drag up my thighs, intensifying the ache around my center. With one hand, he opens me up, and with the other, he pushes two fingers inside me. "Oh shit," I say breathlessly, opening my legs wider.

His breath tickles my clit before his tongue joins in. My legs feel numb, and I'm lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. I can't breathe because it all feels too good. I stop playing with my nipples to grab Zach's hair, making sure he can't leave this time.

My body warms with tingles, a wave of pleasure builds, and just as he increases the flicks of his tongue, I know I'm done for.

"Zach, I'm coming." I get it out right before a scream of pleasure leaves my throat and my hips convulse toward his face. He holds them down, letting me ride out my orgasm on his tongue.

As I lie there, feeling faint because I'm still upside down, Zach leaves a little kiss against my center before flipping my skirt and gently lifting me. When our eyes meet, he smiles, licking his lips. "Honeycomb."

"What?"

"That's what you taste like. Honeycomb, just like I imagined." My cheeks flame at the implication, and when he licks his lips, the numbness in my core starts to subside.

When can he do that again?

Not knowing how to respond, I do the only thing that feels natural. I flip my legs off the chez lounge, push my knees together, and casually ignore the wetness between my thighs as I rebutton my shirt. "You know, I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," he says, placing his hand on my knee, and my body trembles at the unexpected touch.

Never have I been so ready for a second round than right now.

"Yeah, right." Once I've buttoned my shirt, I stand so I can tuck it back into my skirt. Zach clasps my arm, his green eyes boring into me. "No, seriously, Honeycomb. It's all I've been thinking about since we shook hands on our agreement. Your short skirts are so damn distracting when I'm trying to play ball. All I've been able to think about these last couple of weeks is what you'd feel and taste like."

"Stop it." I shake my head as I walk to the dresser and pull out a fresh pair of underwear.

"Trust me. I never thought you'd be my fantasy either, but you've hooked me with your honeycomb."

Scrunching my nose, I let out a hardy chuckle. "Don't make me sound like a breakfast cereal."

"I'd gladly eat you every day. I wonder if you're as nutritious." Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I see him scratching his chin, and it's cute. I like it when he's playful. He's the kind of guy who always seems to have the world's weight on his shoulders, so it's nice to see him relax.

Smiling, I bend over, purposely changing into my black thong in his view. His jaw drops, and I feel his eyes watching my every movement. Still tingling from his touch, I'm ready for more. "If that's your fantasy, who am I to deny you the pleasure." I roll my skirt up, giving him a better view of my ass.

"It's m-more than m-my fantasy, Honeycomb. You are so damn hot." My shoulders straighten, and I push my chest out, liking how he looks at me. Zach makes me feel things I never thought I would, and I like testing my boundaries with him. There's no pressure. It's just us.

"Well, since I know your fantasy. Do you want to know mine?"

He sits up, quirking an eyebrow. Licking his lips, he wipes away the slight sheen left there from eating me out. My knees knock when he smiles and hums as he happily tastes me all over again.

Deep breaths. Don't come from watching that. Seriously, he could breathe in my direction, and I'd get wet. It's getting to where I don't know if it's because Jamie was so mediocre in bed or because I'm hot for Zach these days. Either way, I know I'm spiraling into my downfall, but I don't care.

"What's your fantasy, Honey?" His voice is earnest as he takes me in. Leaning back, I note his red lips and disheveled tie are the only hints that he's been up to something. We need to change that.

"I want to feel you from the inside." I dare to say it out loud, and his confident smirk drops. We've been talking about this for a couple of weeks now, and it's where our fake relationship has been heading, but I don't think he ever expected me to suggest it.

"Are you sure about that?" He leans back, and any ounce of nervousness washes away. His green eyes darken, and his legs widen. I still feel the wetness from Zach's tongue between my thighs as I dip my hips and make my way to him. With each step, the throbbing anticipation in my center grows stronger.

I nod, pausing a few feet away, admiring him in his uniform. Maybe it's the panty-dropping smirk on his face or the fact I know where his tongue has been, but he's the only guy I know who can make our prep uniform look sexy.

"I want to ride you." I surprise myself, as that was supposed to be a mere thought in my head, not admitted out loud.

Zach's grin widens, and he tips his chin. "Oh yeah? You'll need to come closer if you want to do that." He bites his bottom lip, watching as I take each step. That's the most confident and forthright he's been about wanting me, and I will not let it go to waste.

He wants this. I want this. It needs to happen.

When I'm standing between his legs, I savor the feeling of his strong thighs brushing against me, and trace my hand across his chest, knowing what muscles are hiding underneath the fabric. Not taking my eyes off his, I lift my skirt, removing my thong and kicking it out of the way.

Bending forward, I don't take my eyes off his as I unbuckle his belt. He lifts his hips, making the pants easier to maneuver, then his black boxers come into view. I brush my hand across his crotch, feeling his painfully hard erection, then place my hands on either side of his face to sit on his lap. "Oh god, Honey," he groans out, his head hitting the back of the seat when my warm, wet center meets his cock. Only a thin piece of fabric keeps us apart, so he can feel every small movement I make. "You're still so wet," he says with a bite in his tone. His hands come up to my hips, and he rub my sides. I feel it in his vibrating fingers that he's finding it hard to maintain control, and I like that I do that to him.

I rub myself against his crotch, turning myself on even more with the seams in his boxers hitting my clit in just the right way. I arch my back, taking as much as I can from the small amount of friction I've created between the two of us. It's then that Zach pulls at the sides of my shirt, splitting it open at the buttons. "What the hell?" I gasp, looking down at my blue bra back on display.

He smiles with a shrug. "I've always wanted to do that, and I figured you might have a few more of those." He flips the cups of my bra down, revealing my hardened nipples. "Have I told you that I love your boobs?" He brings his hands up to cup my breasts and grazes his thumbs against my nipples. Spikes of pleasure shoot through me, heading straight to my center.

We're dry humping again, and even though I can feel his hardened cock underneath me, I'm worried if we keep going at this pace, I won't last long enough to feel him inside me. And I need to feel it. We can't have another missed opportunity. "I'm on the shot," I breathe out, rocking my hips into him. He stops his moving thumbs, looking at me in surprise and… confusion. "It's more effective than the pill. I can't get pregnant. My mom made sure of that after my first period at twelve."

His hands shake, and he looks a little bewildered, so I add, "I've got condoms if you'd prefer."

Letting out a shaky breath, he drops his hands. "Uh, it all sounds great, but I don't have sex without a condom."

"Of course," I quip, hiding my embarrassment by ruffling through the drawer to find a foil packet. What a stupid thing to suggest. He knows I've had sex with Jamie; ergo, I've essentially had sex with every girl in school, so the chance of catching an STD off me is high. Maybe I should have told him I got checked the day after I was sent the video for the first time. No, that will really ruin the mood.

Zach gently clasps my wrists. "Hey, Honeycomb. It's nothing to do with you. It's just that I promised myself after sophomore year that I wouldn't risk anything getting in the way of St. Michael's."

"I get it." I show him a pink foil packet with a smile, hoping that hides my disappointment.

He lifts, kissing me hard to try and get me back in the mood. Since I'm still sitting on him, it doesn't take long for my body to react, still needing him. I drag my hand down the buttons of his shirt to his black boxers, and I tickle the tip of his dick with my long nails.

"I want to feel all of you inside me."

Before he can answer, I peel back his boxers, revealing his thick length, and slide my pussy across it so he can feel my slickness for himself. "Fuuuck," he groans, throwing his head back once more. He feels good, so I rub my clit over his tip to create some friction.

"You feel so good, Zach." I want him more than I've wanted anything in my life. "What do you say? Let's do this?"

"Yes," he says without hesitation, grabbing the condom packet off me and ripping it open with his teeth before handing it over. I roll the latex down his shaft, watching his stomach contract when I get to the root.

Gripping his cock, I raise onto my knees so there's enough room to position him at my entrance. Just feeling the tip close makes my body shake with anticipation. Then, I slowly drop down on a sharp inhale.

A piercing pain stabs through my center when Zach pushes inside me. Once he's fully in, I take a few breaths and slowly adjust to his size.

"Oh hell, you're so tight." Zach presses his hips up with a wince and grabs each cheek of my ass so he's in control. "It feels so good."

Looking into his beautiful emerald eyes, it starts to feel better. The slickness between us, his girth, his hands. Everything about this feels amazing and perfect and right.

I drop my forehead to his, our sweat and breath mingling as I ride him. Gosh, he feels better than I could have ever imagined. When I drop my head back and let the euphoric sensation take hold of my body, he drops his mouth to my breast, nibbling at my nipple and lavishing it with attention.

"I need to go faster," I pant, with his hands holding me back. He digs his fingers into the soft flesh of my ass before bringing one of his hands to my other nipple, teasing it.

With my hands on his shoulder, I ride him harder and faster than I could imagine, his teasing tongue spurring me on.

"Unless you want me to come, I'd stop doing that," he grits out.

"Doing what?" Still moving, my clit rubs against his pubic bone, and I feel every part of my body igniting.

"Clenching. You're tight enough as it is."

Holding onto his shoulders, I squeeze him tight, trying to relax so I stop, but it doesn't work. "I can't help it." We keep moving, and I know I'm close. My body is heating, my blood feels like it's on fire, and the rush between my thighs is growing.

"Zach, I'm coming," I cry, throwing my head back. Bursts of black and white stars flood my vision, my brain feels hazy, and I drop my head to his shoulder. An explosion of pleasure rips through my body, and he holds me in place, getting every ounce of my clenching core.

"Me too," he growls, digging his fingers into my back as his hips jerk.

When I open my eyes, I focus on South Point's emblem on Zach's blazer. We just had hot, dirty sex in our uniforms, and I'm not mad about it.

When we're finally composed enough to talk, he nudges me with his shoulder, so I lift to look at him. "That was everything, Honeycomb. Did it feel good for you?"

I nod, biting back the words that could change everything between us. He's still inside me, and I have no intention of rushing to pull him out. What we did felt like more than sex, but I don't want to freak him out by suggesting it. He made me feel safe and special, and… I need to stop getting ahead of myself. This was supposed to be some fun, but the connection between us is too much. Zach is too much.

"Promise me we can do that again sometime?"

I open my mouth to answer, but the bang of the front door jolts me into action. "Shit. She's home already." Kicking my leg over Zach, I scramble to the bathroom, desperate to look presentable if my mother comes up.

I don't think about Zach, figuring he can look after himself.

My hair looks like a rat's nest, and my uniform is ruined. "Zach." I hear my mother's muffled voice through the door, and I almost feel bad I left him out there to fend for himself.

"Hi, Mrs. Sanderson. Did you have a good time at the club?" I hope Zach looks as composed as he sounds.

"I did, thank you. Where's Hunniford?"

"She's just in the bathroom."

Please leave. Please leave. Please leave. I brought no clothes in here, and I can't exactly walk out there with my buttonless shirt.

"Well, can you tell her that her father and I are waiting in the parlor for her once she's out? I assume you're still unable to attend?"

He must shake his head in response because I don't hear his answer. After a few seconds, he knocks on the door. "Honey. Your mom's gone."

Sighing, I open the door and pull him in. He laughs, looking at my disheveled form. He, on the other hand, looks perfect. Not a hair is out of place. "How do you look so good after everything we just did?"

He gives me a lopsided smile. "You didn't do as much damage to my uniform as I did to yours." His gaze flicks down to my open shirt, and he toys with the fabric. "You still look extremely hot, though."

Swatting his hand away, I move past him to get back into my bedroom. "Where you going, Honeycomb?"

"To the parlor, remember?" I stand at my dresser, looking for an outfit my mother would approve of. "You're not coming, right?"

That smirk on his face drops. "I should probably head back. I've got—"

I raise my hand. " Commitments . I know."

"Well, damn, Honeycomb. You make it sound like you don't like sharing me?" He wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.

"I don't, but I understand." Turning in his hold, I give him a hug.

"Will you come to my game on Friday?"

I pull back, looking at him with a bemused smile. "Of course I'm going to be there. It's part of our deal, remember?"

"Of course. It's all just part of our deal…"