If You Were Mine (Page 51)
If You Were Mine (The Sullivans #5)(51)
Author: Bella Andre
She didn’t try to deny it this time, simply said, “I wasn’t looking for this. I don’t want this.”
Didn’t she see how strong she was? Strong enough to make better decisions than her mother ever could have? For the millionth time he wanted to tear her father apart for the way he’d hurt his beautiful daughter. She’d been innocent, pure like Emma once…until her father had destroyed her faith.
“I love you, Heather.”
Love for her had been there, inside of him, all along. Seeing Heather surrounded by his family, and then with Emma, and knowing how perfectly she fit in with everyone else he loved, had just made his feelings for her all the more undeniable.
Her beautiful face was full of so much emotion as she looked up at him, that his throat clogged just looking at her.
“How do you always do this to me?” she whispered.
Hope lit in him, warring with the dark knowledge that making her profess her love to him wasn’t fair. Not when he’d go and die on her too soon, just like his father had.
Shoving the darkness away as he had a thousand times before, he whispered back, “What do I do, Heather?”
Finally, she reached for him, putting her hand over his heart the same way she had their first night together. “You make me feel so much.”
She wasn’t running anymore, and that should have been good enough. But it wasn’t. He wanted to hear her say she loved him, too.
“How much?”
“Everything.”
Nothing could have stopped him from kissing her then, and as his mouth covered hers he realized he didn’t need her to say the words after all.
Because the love she felt for him was right there in her kiss.
* * *
The trip back to Zach’s house was a blur. Heather’s phone kept buzzing with reminders of meetings she needed to attend and voice mails from her assistant. Zach’s siblings texted and called to get the dirt on why the two of them had left his brother’s house so abruptly. Without even discussing it, it was clear that work, family—all of the usual things that made up their days—would have to wait.
Only the dogs couldn’t possibly be ignored, not when they needed to be fed again and taken on a walk to the park to run off some energy. Throughout, while Heather told Kate to cancel everything for the rest of the day, and she threw Atlas’s rope and watched Cuddles tackle it with her entire body, the only thing Heather could focus on was the way Zach never let go of her hand for one second.
And the fact that he loved her.
Love was a word that hadn’t meant anything to her since she was seventeen. She’d been certain it could never impact her again, not after so many years of hearing her father throw it around like sparkly confetti.
But when Zach said it, she’d felt the resonance of those four letters down so deep in her soul that her entire world shifted on its axis.
She’d tried for so long to pretend love didn’t matter.
It did.
She’d tried for so long to keep that part of her cold. Untouchable.
Zach had touched her, warmed her.
She’d embraced being alone.
Only to find a man without whose smiles, off-color jokes, and sensual whispers as she was coming apart in his arms, she’d be lost.
By the time they got back to the house and Atlas plopped down on his doggy bed with Cuddles lying across him the way she loved best, Heather felt like her insides were a volcano on the verge of exploding.
Her hand was still in his as they headed for the bedroom. Zach closed the door with a soft click that sounded like a bullet going off inside her head.
Feeling shaky, she had to reach for him, had to wind her arms around his waist and back, knowing he’d be strong. Solid.
She’d never let herself lean on anyone before.
Zach caressed her cheeks, his thumbs brushing over her mouth before his fingers moved into her hair, to the spot that felt just right whenever he held her there.
“I’ve never made love to anyone before,” she whispered, overwhelmed by what she was feeling, how strong, how unstoppable her emotions were.
He leaned closer and his mouth hovered over hers. But instead of kissing her, he whispered across her lips, “Yes, you have. Every time we’ve touched, you’ve let me love you.” His voice was even deeper than normal, and raw with emotion. “And you’ve loved me right back.”
His reply was utterly unexpected.
And, amazingly, just as true.
Just because she hadn’t wanted to let herself love him, didn’t mean she’d even come close to succeeding. From that first brush of their fingertips in the park, to the kiss she’d given him on his cheek, to passion exploding in the alley at the ballpark…no matter what she’d told herself, no matter how she’d tried to pretend none of it really mattered, every second with Zach had shifted the walls around her heart.
Until they’d come crashing down.
“Love me again, Zach.”
His mouth covered hers a heartbeat later with a kiss that was so sure and warm and utterly sinful it made her toes curl in her tennis shoes. He loved her mouth the way he loved every inch of her skin—with complete possession, unbridled pleasure, and pure male satisfaction.
His tongue slipped and slid against hers, before moving back out to run a sensual path across her lips, from one corner to the other. “So sweet.” He nibbled on the flesh of her lower lip. “So soft.” His tongue laved over the small bites, soothing her at the same time he built her arousal even higher.
And then she was in his arms and he was carrying her over to the bed, pressing her back into the duvet as he covered her body with his. Both of them were still fully clothed, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around him and pulling him even closer.
He deepened their kiss with a possessive growl that sent the dials on every last nerve in her body way past eleven. There was no space in their kiss for thinking, for worrying, only the sweet release of feeling herself open all the way up, inside and out.
For Zach.
He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “Mine.” The word was rough, ragged from his lips. Fire burned in his gaze, hotter, more intense than her beautiful charmer had ever been before. “You’re mine.”
Before she could tell him yes, she was his, and always had been, his mouth was stealing her breath away again and his hands were pulling at fabric, unzipping where he could, ripping when fabric didn’t come off easily enough.
Heather loved every one of his rough demands, the same ones she was making of him as she kicked off her shoes, then yanked his shirt off and shoved his pants down with her feet.