One Night Of Consequences Collection. Annie West

She pushed his underwear down and he kicked them down with the growing pile of clothes on the staircase. She started to kneel down in front of him and he forked his fingers through her hair, halting her for a moment, the sting from the tug on her hair sending a sharp sensation of pleasure through her.

      “Careful,” he said. “I’m close.”

      “We have all night. I’m not worried. And I’ve had a lot of fantasies about this. You wouldn’t deny me a little fantasy fulfillment, would you?” She leaned forward and flicked the tip of her tongue over the head of his shaft. He sucked in a breath, his hold on her hair tightening again.

      She took him into her mouth, loving the taste of him, the power she felt. That she could make his thigh muscles shake, make his hands tremble. He kept one hand in her hair, one on the staircase railing, bracing himself as she continued to explore him.

      “Clara … I need … not like this.”

      She raised her head, her heart nearly stopping when she saw his face. He had sweat beads on his forehead, the tendons in his neck standing out. He looked like a man who’d been tortured with pleasure.

      And she’d been the one doing the torturing.

      “I don’t mind.”

      “I do. I need to have all of you.”

      “Maybe we can make it the rest of the way up the stairs?”

      “If we hurry,” he growled.

      So she did, walking in front of him, knowing her thong and high heels were making a provocative visual for him. The feeling of confidence she felt, the absolute certainty that he enjoyed looking at her, that, for now at least, she was the woman he desired, was amazing. New.

      His bedroom door was open, and she walked inside and sat down on the bed, waiting for him. He stood in the doorway, his eyes hot on her. The lights were off, moonlight filtering through the window. The darkness felt like a cover, made her feel more confident.

      “Take everything off,” he bit out.

      She undid the front clasp on her bra and was gratified by the sharp rise and fall of his chest as she revealed her breasts to him. She stood and tugged her underwear down her legs, leaving the high heels for last.

      “Want to help with these?” she asked, sitting again, holding her foot out.

      He smiled and walked over to the bed and knelt in front of her, putting his hands on the curve of her knees, sliding them down her calf, he bent his head down and kissed her ankle as he took one of her shoes off and dropped it onto the carpet.

      He did the same with the other one, slow, erotic movements making her shiver all over. And when he leaned in and pressed his mouth between her thighs she nearly came apart with the first stroke of his tongue.

      “I’ll confess, I didn’t think about this very much until recently,” he said. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about it since last week. Every night, I dream of you,” he said, his voice rough as he continued to pleasure her with his hands.

      “Me, too,” she said, panting, her body on the brink of climax, so close she felt it all through her, tension drawing all of her muscles tight.

      Zack stood up, his smile wicked as he looked at her. He leaned over and took a condom from the nightstand. He tore the packet open and rolled a condom onto his length before joining her on the bed.

      He put his hands on her thigh and pulled her over him so that her legs were bracketing his and his erection poised at the entranced to her body. Her eyes locked with his, she lowered herself onto him, a low moan climbing in her throat as he filled her.

      She gripped his shoulders, enjoying the feeling. Enjoying the moment of being joined with him completely.

      She moved slowly at first, trying to find the right rhythm, her confidence increasing as his grip on her hips tightened, as she started to move closer to the edge of climax.

      She was saying things, words, about how good it felt, how much she cared about him, but she wasn’t sure what she was saying exactly. She didn’t care. She couldn’t think, she could only feel.

      Could only hold on to Zack as her orgasm pushed her over the edge and into an abyss of light and feeling, where there was nothing, no one, except for her and Zack. There was no past, and there was no future. There was only the two of them.

      In that world, in that moment, everything could work. Everything was perfect.

      The ascent back to reality was slow and fuzzy, and she almost regretted it when it happened. But even reality, his skin hot and sweaty beneath her cheek, his chest hair a little bit scratchy, was pretty near perfect.

      She didn’t have the assurance of a future. But for now she had Zack. And she would take him. She felt tears sting her eyes and she squeezed them shut, trying to hold them at bay.

      She had him tonight. And it would be perfect. She wouldn’t ruin it by crying.

      “I’ll go and take care of things,” he said.

      Clara sat up and let Zack get out of bed and go into the bathroom. He came back a couple of moments later and slid back into bed. She looked at his profile. Strong, set. So handsome, so special to her. For so long she’d imagined that she knew everything about Zack. Now she found out there was a huge piece missing.

      “Zack …” She knew she probably shouldn’t say what was on her mind, but they were naked and in bed together. If they couldn’t be honest now, when could you be honest with anyone? “What happened?”

      “I told you,” he said, his voice stilted. He knew what she meant. No need to clarify.

      “Sort of.”

      “You want to hear more?”

      “I want to know what happened. Have you ever told anyone?”

      There was a long pause, Zack shifted next to her. “I don’t talk about this, Clara. Not ever. Not with anyone.”

      She put her hand on his shoulder. “And I don’t let men see me naked. Not ever. But I let you. So tell me.”

      He paused and she thought, for a moment, he wasn’t going to say anything. “We named him Jake. He lived for forty-eight hours. No one at the hospital thought, even for a moment, that he had a chance. But I did.” Silence hung between them, heavy and oppressive. She didn’t interrupt it.

      Zack breathed in deeply. Faintly, in the dim light filtering in through the windows, she could see a single track of moisture shining on his cheek. “I was wrong. There was no miracle. No beating the odds. I’d thought … I was sure he’d have to be okay. I’d changed all my plans, in my head, my whole future was different. And then it was back to being the same, except it wasn’t. It never would be again. And my parents … I think they were relieved. They’d been so angry that I was throwing my future away. I think they were relieved when my son died, Clara.”

      “Zack …” She started to offer something. Comfort maybe. But she wasn’t sure if there was any comfort for that kind of pain. She wasn’t sure if it was a wound that could heal.

      “Sarah didn’t want to talk to me again and I don’t blame her. Every time I looked at her I just remembered. I think it was the same for her. So I just left. I couldn’t stay there.” He paused for a moment. “He would be fourteen now. Just two years younger than I was when he was born. Maybe he’d play football, like I did. He’d be close to the age where I would be teaching him how to drive and telling him about girls. I think about it still. About him. I didn’t understand how one person could, even for such a short amount of time, became my whole world. For those two days, I breathed for him. And when he stopped, I almost forgot why I was still trying. Rock bottom is … something else. There’s a lot of alcohol there, let me tell you. But not even that fixes it. It just makes you pathetic. But I got hired on at a coffeehouse here, even though I was an aimless wreck. Once I had that job, I had a new focus. I got my GED, I found out I loved coffee. I