Where the Blame Lies(70)

She brought her lips to his neck and pressed against him once more and he groaned, bringing his head forward and finding her lips. They kissed and touched, hands roaming, Josie leading him out of the kitchen as she walked them backward, their mouths still connected. When they made it to the hall, she pulled away from him, their lips coming apart with a wet popping sound as she glanced from his room to hers, seeming to settle on her room as she led him there. He paused outside it, kissing her slowly against the wall next to the door, once again giving her a second to let her head clear, to change her mind if she wanted to. But she made a small sound of impatience, tearing her lips from his and leading him into the room where she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, leaning forward so they could kiss some more. Zach ran his hands over her ass, his hips circling instinctively, pressing upward, seeking relief. Goddammit, he felt like he was going to come in his pants, lust pulsing so strongly through every pore of his body and flowing straight between his legs where his erection throbbed and ached. Josie pulled her lips from his, scooting back slightly so she could undo his jeans. He attempted to make eye contact with her, but she seemed to be on a mission, and for a moment the lust fog cleared just enough that he could really look at her. Her nipples were hard points beneath her shirt, her skin flushed with arousal, but the look on her face was intensely focused, something almost desperate in her gaze that he suspected had more to do with fulfilling this sex act, than her enjoyment of it.

“Josie, wait—”

She ran her hand over his hard length, eliciting a groan. She met his eyes as her hand stroked him, bliss swirling, causing him to forget what he’d been about to say. “Do you want this?” she asked.

Wasn’t that his line? “Yes, God, yes, but—"

She swung a leg off him and maneuvered herself until she’d removed his pants. He sat up slightly, pulling his shirt off so he was lying underneath her, completely naked. “Condom,” he said, pointing to his pants. “Wallet.”

She removed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled the condom out, opening it quickly and sheathing him, her hands trembling as she did so. She climbed back on top, her hand wrapping around his hot, throbbing dick and stroking once more. He put his hand on top of hers, stilling her. Despite the short pause, and the condom over his skin, he was close. “Josie, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

She smiled then, a small tilting of her lips as she climbed off him and removed her workout pants and her sweatshirt, but left her bra on. Her eyes moved to his erection and nervousness skittered across her expression before she quickly schooled it, climbing back on top of him. She took him in her hand and he watched her as she lowered herself onto him, his vision blurring at the searing pleasure of her hot, wet body squeezing tightly around him.

“God, you feel good,” he said, pressing his head back into the mattress as she began moving, panting his name. He brought his hands up and grasped her hips, his thumb finding the scarred skin on her thigh. He circled it, raising his head to look at the place his hand had found by touch, his heart dipping when he realized it was the spot where the words casting blame had been written. Casus belli.

Oh, fuck. Josie.

She slapped his hand away from her scarred thigh, a kind of panic seizing her expression for a moment. She let out a small gasping sound, part annoyance, part sob, as she grabbed his hands and held them down at his sides, her movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated. Zach stilled, watching her as her expression crumbled and her fingers dug into the soft underside of his arms, bringing him solidly into the present. “Josie, hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to—”

“No,” she said loudly, bouncing up and down on him, her movements frantic, expression slightly wild.

Zach attempted to move his hips, to sit up, take her in his arms, soothe her, offer comfort. She hadn’t been ready for this. He cursed himself. He’d gotten too caught up, hadn’t read her right.

“No, please,” she practically sobbed, panic flaring in her eyes. “Please.” She brought her head down, kissing him harshly, sloppily. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, her hips still moving. He felt the tears coursing down her cheeks and his heart twisted at her sadness, at the way this was obviously causing her such deep distress. “Please, Zach,” she whispered again. She wanted this, needed it maybe. Perhaps to prove to herself she could, perhaps to dispel her memories. He was confused, unsure of the right thing to do. Wanting only to lessen her pain. To be there for her in the way she needed him to be. And yet despite it all, his body continued to react to hers, to the feel of her grasping warmth surrounding him, to her scent, her.

He hesitated, uncertain, but then followed his instincts, taking her wrists and flipping her onto her back. She closed her eyes, tears still tracking down her cheeks. She was shaking. “Look at me, Josie,” he said, beginning to move slowly, his hips rotating. She opened her eyes, her expression still distressed, confused. “Look at me, in my eyes. You’re safe. We can stop anytime you want. Even now.” He pressed inside her and pulled back. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, but I’ll stop if you need me to. You know that, right?” She blinked up at him, her expression clearing, gentling. She nodded her head, her legs coming slowly around his hips as he moved within her.

He couldn’t help the moan that came up from his chest. “That’s it. Feel me, Josie. It’s just us here, no one else. Just us. And I’ll stop if you want me to.”