What's Lost in the Dark

Chapter One

“Ah,” we both moaned at the welcome sensation of Zach’s huge erection entering me slowly. He pulled back gently and pushed back in the same way. Again he repeated, going deeper with each stroke before he started thrusting with unspoken desire.

“Mm, Zach. Ah, baby.” He began long stroking, and I moaned his name again.

“Oh, Abi, baby,” he moaned over my mouth before finding my tongue. Kissing me passionately, he increased the speed and friction of his strokes.

“Ah, Z…Zach. Baby, don’t st…stop.” The way he made love to me was absolutely incredible, and I didn’t want it to end.

He grinned seductively. “Mm…baby, don’t worry. I had no intention.”

His passion and mine were building. He kissed me ardently and began fucking me hungrily. The pleasure was out of this world, and we both moaned loudly.

Feeling greedy myself, I squeezed my love muscle tightly around his immensely hard dick, locked my ankles together around his perfectly firm ass, and grabbed two fistfuls of his curls, silently urging him to fuck me harder.

I thrust my hips up to meet his with implicit desire. Wanting to fulfill my unspoken desire, with his fingers tangled in my hair and eyes fixed on me intensely, Zach answered my silent plea and increased the force and speed of his penetration, sending my body, as only he could, into a whirl of pleasure.

“Mm…oh, God, Zach. Mm-hmm…like that, baby. Like that. Oh, baby, don’t stop! You feel so good inside of me.” It was amazing; it felt like he was fucking me with his heart and soul. In fact, I knew he was.

“Oh, Abi. Shit, baby,” he moaned in response to my equally hungry upward thrusts. “Oh, fuck, Abi. You feel so good, baby.”

As the sensation intensified, so did our breathing. Sweat poured from him onto my face, neck, and breasts and mixed in with my own. I moved my hands from his hair to his strong, sweat-covered back that flexed with sheer power and felt amazing under my hands. The more his back flexed under my hands, the stronger I felt him deep inside of me. I dug my nails into his muscular flesh in pure passion and satisfaction as my body quivered from an intense orgasm.

“Ah...fuck!”  he moaned. “Oh, God, baby…I’m about to cum. Ah. Sh—shiiit. Abigail.”

Damn. The way he screamed my name when he came made me nearly cum again. We held each other tight after we overexerted ourselves with a loud, fervid climax.

He lay on top of me as we both gasped for air. We held each other for quite some time until Zach broke the calm moment.

“Oh my God, baby. That was so amazing. You are so amazing.” He kissed me with great passion. “Only you. Only you, baby.”

I wiped the sweat from his face with my hands. “I missed you,” I said in Italian.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I said I missed you.”

Shifting his weight off me, he replied, “I missed you too, love.” He stroked either side of my face with his thumbs and burned his gaze in mine. “You’re so gorgeous. You have a lovely tall frame that boasts sexy curves with a small waist, toned thick thighs, and a full, round butt. I love your long curly, wavy brown hair, and I could live forever in your hazel-green eyes. Your're absolutely beautiful, Abigail.” That made me blush. He kissed me again. “And that Italian sounds so sexy coming from your beautiful mouth.”

Getting out of the bed, he said, “I’ll be right back. OK, baby?”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To get us something cold to drink.”

“OK. Hurry back. Open the window first, please.” There was nothing like a fresh, cool breeze after hot, steamy sex.

While Zach was fetching us something to drink, I sat up in bed, excited to have been in his bed finally. I smelled his sheets and pillows and found they smelled of him, so I hugged them tight. I smiled as I look around his bedroom, and I noticed he had several pictures of me on display.

Each of his nightstands had one in a beautiful crystal frame, and there were two oversized photos—black and white—one on each side of the wall by the walk-in closet. I didn’t know what compelled me to look on the ceiling, but I did.

Could there really be a picture of me there?  I asked myself.

I slowly pulled my head back and laughed loudly when my eyes landed on the ceiling. There were no pictures of me there. Had there been, I really didn’t know how I would’ve reacted. But one thing was for sure: I would’ve labeled Zach a certified stalker.

Zach returned with two filled glasses. “Here love,” he said, handing one of them to me. “It’s delicious. You’ll love it.”

“What is it?”

“Cranberry juice and acai juice with fresh squeezed orange and lime.”

After drinking from the glass, I thanked him for the thirst quencher. And yes, it was very delicious.

I wasted no time asking, “Why do you have so many pictures of me on display? How did you even get those pictures of me?”

“Is it a crime to want to look at you when you are away from me?” He arched his brows questioningly.

“No. I’m just asking,” I replied softly.

“Listen,” he said, caressing my face and capturing my gaze. “I’m not able to physically fall asleep and wake up with you every day, though I want to so badly, so I have these beautiful portraits of you around so that you are the last thing I see when I close my eyes and the first thing I see when I open them.” He kissed my lips. “I have more pictures of you on my phone.”

“I didn’t know that. And when and how did you get that one there of me?” I pointed to the black-and-white portrait on the right side of the closet.

“Oh, that one is from the eighth of September—the first time we had sex. You were so tired afterward and fell asleep immediately.”

“You took pictures of me while I was sleeping? You better not…” I trailed off, giving him an unpleasant look, putting my left hand over my mouth. “You better not have any nude pictures of me,” I said sternly, looking at him seriously with knitted brows.

He pulled my hand away from my mouth and into his hands. “No, love,” he said, staring at me with honest eyes. Sensing I was a little edgy, he caressed my jawline in a soothing manner. “There aren’t any nude pictures of you, baby. I promise. I’m not like that, Abigail. You were just so beautiful while you slept that I had to capture that moment. I’ve never met anyone as beautiful, gorgeous, and lovely as you. And it was truly a perfect moment for me.”

I believed him and put my horns away with a blushing smile.

“For me too,” I admitted. “Which brings me to my next question, Mr. McConnallay. How did you like your christening? Was it everything you expected?”

He smiled knowingly. “Baby, it was beyond my expectation. We will christen this entire penthouse. Believe me.”

I smiled. “It was beyond amazing for me too.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said. He looked at me fixedly. “I want you to start birth control, Abigail.”

Did he just say…

“Wh-what? Whoa!  Where the hell did that come from, Zach?” I asked, shaking my head bemusedly. Talk about coming from left field. He had shocked the hell out of me. My ears hadn’t been prepared to receive that. And neither had my brain.

“I want to feel you all the time from now on. No more condoms…just you and me. OK, love?”

“No more condoms? Are you crazy? I can’t even believe that we were so reckless to have just had sex without one, and now you want to forego using them altogether.” I shook my head adamantly. “No…no. It’s not safe, and with your history of bouncing from different women—you might forget that you committed to a monogamous relationship with me and seek pleasure elsewhere. I can’t. No!” What the hell was he thinking asking me to do something like that?

“Yes, love,” he responded, caressing my face. “No more condoms, love. It’s just you that I am with, so we don’t have to use them anymore. I could never forget being in love with you. And yes, I’ve been with several women in the past, but I used protection with every one of them. You are the first and only person I’ve ever been with unprotected, and it was the most incredible feeling I’ve ever experienced. I want that feeling each time I am with you, Abigail. I know you felt it too, love.”

And I had felt the heightened pleasure of the skin-on-skin contact. It was the most magnificent sensation I’d ever encountered. I felt closer to Zach on a spiritual and emotional level, but my answer was still no.

Still shaking my head, he put me under his hypnosis. He used his domineering voice that I loved, oh so much, stared at me intensely with his smoky, flirty grayish-green eyes, and put his forehead and nose against mine while barely kissing my lips.

Oh, you bastard. You know it’s hard for me to deny you when you do this.

“Make the appointment, Abigail. OK, love? We’ll both go get tested for any STDs. OK?”

Damn, he knew how to get to me.

I kissed him and said, “I will schedule the appointment, but we still need to talk about this some more. And no more reckless sex until the test results are back. OK?”

He smiled impishly, knowing he’d inveigled me again. I knew there wasn’t going to be any further discussion of this matter. And so did Zach. He nodded while still smiling mischievously, and I changed the subject.

“Sorry to change the subject, but where is my car?”

“I took it to Capitol Cadillac for repairs.”

“When should I expect it back?” I took a sip of juice.

Zach looked at me and grabbed a hold of my hands. “Galloway will take and pick you and Gabrielle up from wherever you need to go.” He went in for a kiss.

“You haven’t even told me what is wrong with my car, and already you’re trying to pacify me.” Moving my face away from his lips, I also tried to pull my hands away from him, but he held tighter. “You didn’t answer my question,” I said with an attitude. “When should I expect to have my car back?”

“Five, maybe six weeks, but don’t hold me to that.”

Angry, I turned my head away from him.

“Abi, I’m sorry. Baby, look at me. I told you I would take care of it, didn’t I? Didn’t I, love?”

I nodded. “Exactly what is wrong with my car that it’s going to take this long before I get it back?”

“Baby, we watched the surveillance footage—”

“I don’t care about surveillance right now. What is wrong with my car?”

“It appears someone poured bleach and sugar in your gas tank. We could smell the bleach and saw grains of what looked like sugar on the ground near your gas tank.”

“First of all, it’s not someone, it’s she. Taylor. She did it. And since I didn’t drive it, it shouldn’t have affected the engine or fuel lines, so I don’t see what’s the big deal with me getting my car back sooner. All they have to do is flush and replace the filters, or whatever it is they do when stupid shit like this happens. And it shouldn’t take that long to replace the damn windows, mirrors, and tires. Even the paint job shouldn’t take long.”

“Baby, we’re not sure if this person—”

“This person?  You know who the hell it is, so stop pretending it wasn’t her,” I hissed, rolling my eyes.

“Baby, we don’t know for sure. The surveillance only shows a person getting out of a white van that stopped in front of your car twice today—once around eleven in the morning and again around a quarter to four. We don’t know who tampered with your gas tank or vandalized your car.”

So you’re covering for this bitch? Is this the way it’s going to be?

“Really?”  I said sarcastically. I was thinking it inwardly, but it came pouring out of my mouth in anger. “OK, so why didn’t you have the plates traced to see who it leads back to?”

“There were no plates.”

“No plates, huh? And security—security that you staffed to protect the employees of your building allowed a van without plates to enter the garage?”

“Unfortunately, yes. And they are being dealt with. Trust me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Have you spoken with her?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Baby, I don’t want to talk about her.” He put his hands through my hair and pulled me in for a kiss.

With a little pacifying of my own, I kissed him with equal passion, put my forehead and nose against his, and asked, “Baby, what was said?”

“The first or second time I spoke with her?” he asked.

Wow! It worked. Note to self: pacify Zach more often.

“Both.”

He took a deep breath. “After I hung up the phone with you when I was in Pittsburgh, I called her right away and asked her if she’d lost her fucking mind for coming to the office and threatening you and Gabrielle. I told her to stay the fuck away from the two of you and promised her that if she came near either of you, I would make her pay for it. And trust me; I will,” he said.

The look on his face and the tone of his voice said he was serious about that. I didn’t doubt him. But exactly how would he make her pay? And what did he mean by that? I only raised a brow and allowed him to continue to speak.

“When I called her to see if she was responsible for your car, she said she had no idea what I was talking about, and I told her she had better hope the evidence didn’t prove she was involved.”

He took a drink and continued, “Baby, I stressed to her the love I have for you. And you do know that I love you, right?” I looked at him blankly, and he asked, “Right, love?”

Do you really love me?

Nodding my head, I asked, “So what’s with you and all of your disappearing acts? It’s like you’re a magician or something.”

He knit his brows. “Disappearing acts?”

“Yes. Every time you get upset with me, you ignore me…disappearing for days at a time. Why?”

“I’m sorry about that. I promise I will never ignore you or disappear again. We’re going to address any issues we have when they occur. OK, baby?”

Yeah, right. If you say so. Good luck trying to keep that promise, especially with your track record.

“OK, babe,” I said, not totally sold. “That would make me very happy if you could. But let’s be real here and accept the facts for what they are. This is a habit of yours, and it won’t change overnight. So let’s agree that you will try not to ignore me and you’ll learn how to communicate and address any issues when they arise.” I kissed him appreciatively. “That still doesn’t answer my question, which is why?” Why did he act the way he did? Why did he treat me so coldly whenever he got upset? Just why? I needed my questions answered.

“Can we talk about it later?” he asked. I laughed sarcastically.

My fucking point exactly. You can’t even address this small and simple issue now.

“Whatever. I’m going to take a shower. Will you be offended if I go up to my place to shower?” I kind of wanted to be alone at that point. I was a little upset. He’d had an opportunity to reveal some of himself to me, but he chose not to. That was a big-ass red flag, especially after he had just said we would address any issue when it arose. Promise already broken.

“Yes, I will. Why don’t you want to shower here?” he asked, seeming disappointed.

“Because everything I need to shower with is—”

He cut me off, pulling me out of the bed, still wrapped in his sheet, and led me into his master bath. “Here! It’s all here, Abigail.” He had a big grin on his face. “I hope I didn’t forget anything, love.”

I looked around his bathroom in awe. He had furnished the right side of it with all of the bathing and body products that I used. He even had the same hair dryer and hair products.

Wow! He gave a lot of thought to this. Oh, my God; he’s even gotten the sanitary napkins and deodorant. He didn’t miss anything. He even has a vanity set that’s ten times better looking than mine, I must say. Well done, Mr. McConnallay; well done!

“H-h-how do you know what products I use? When did you even do all of this?” I asked, completely dumbfounded and ecstatic.

“I took pictures of your bathroom and walk-in the few times I stayed with you and searched for the products online and at some of the local stores. I just want to make sure that it feels like home to you here.” He looked at me timidly, probably because he didn’t know how I was processing his thoughtful gesture without labeling him a stalker.

“Wow. You really are my little stalker,” I said jokingly, with a favorable smile. “This is really nice of you, baby. You really didn’t have to. But I approve, so you can breathe now.”

He exhaled loudly and kissed me in elation. “So do you still need to go up to your pent to take a shower? Or will this suffice?”

“This will definitely do. But I still need to go up for a change of clothes. I’ll go up, grab something to sleep in tonight, an outfit for tomorrow, and come right back down, OK?”

He grinned again and motioned to the walk-in closet. Walking in, he turned the lights on, and I stood in awe again. He’d stocked half of his closet with clothes, shoes, and accessories all for me.

Zach had gotten me work attire, casual clothing, loungewear, nightwear, lingerie, jeans, tees, and even party outfits. The shoes ranged from pumps to bedroom slippers, and the accessories from sunglasses and purses to earrings, necklaces, bracelets, stoles, and scarves.

“Oh, my God, Zach. This is…this is…you didn’t have to. You shouldn’t have. I can buy my own things.”

I hugged him and felt his heart beating really fast. I was blown away. He’d bought me everything I could ever want or need and made space for them in his home.

I was so overwhelmed with joy that I’d forgotten all about being angry with him for not opening up to me. But that didn’t matter anymore because all I could think of was that he had included me in his world—he had made me a part of his life. I saw that as a platform to him opening up to me, and I decided then that I would not push him too much to reveal himself to me. I knew he would eventually tear away at the mask, even if it was a little at a time.

My gut told me it was fine, and my gut feeling hadn’t failed me up to that point. To me, that was better than not having him at all.

“Really, baby, it’s nothing,” he said. “I know I didn’t have to buy any of this, but I wanted to. So now that you know you have all that you need here, you have no reason to leave me tonight, right?”

He caressed my blushing face with his strong, gentle hands as I agreed with a smile. He accepted with a kiss.

“Great; now let me help you with that shower,” he said.

“Are you getting in with me?” I asked with flirty eyes.

“Do you want me to, Ms. Winterfield?”

“I would love that very much, Mr. McConnallay.”

l

After Zach washed my hair, he pumped a handful of shower gel into the palm of his hand, rubbed his big, strong hands together in a beautiful, sexy motion, and said seductively, “Turn around.” I complied.

He massaged the shower gel into my back, the backs of my arms, my ass, and the backs of my thighs and legs.

He whispered, “Mm…I could definitely get used to this.” His hands glided smooth and strong over my soap-covered skin, arousing me once again.

“Now the front,” he whispered in my left ear seductively.

I turned and faced him with my bottom lip in my mouth. His smile broadened as he pumped more of the shower gel into the palm of his hand and massaged it into my neck, shoulders, arms, stomach, thighs, and legs. He lathered me up very well and had my body tingling from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.

“You missed a few places,” I said.

“I did? I didn’t notice,” he replied devilishly.

“Here and here,” I said, putting one of his hands on my breast and the other on my vajayjay.

“You promise to behave and keep that bottom lip out of your mouth if I wash here and here?”

“Mm-hmm. I do,” I said.

He applied the cold shower gel directly to my nipples, and I sighed. He started massaging the shower gel into my breasts, and it soon escalated to erotic shower play. My nipples were erect under his hands, and looking at me intensely, he began pinching both of them between his fingers. I sighed again. He pulled them outward and began twirling them between his skilled fingers.

The sensation started mounting, and I began panting. He moved his hand down and applied some shower gel to my heated pussy. Slowly he massaged. He grinned mischievously as my hips gyrated in accord with his middle finger. He moved closer to me with fixed, lascivious eyes as if he were going to take my tongue passionately into his mouth.

I parted my mouth in eagerness. I needed to feel his tongue intertwined with mine while he perfectly rubbed my clit. He rubbed his nose and forehead against mine and nuzzled his way around to my neck.

Barely biting my earlobe, he whispered, “Have you been a good girl? Do you think you deserve this orgasm right now?”

I felt an orgasm coming on strong. “Yes and yes,” I moaned.

“Are you sure about that, Ms. Win-ter-field?” he asked, still massaging me slowly.

“I’m s…sure,” I panted, guiding his hand to move faster. “Faster, baby,” I moaned.

He increased the speed of his middle finger and watched me as he pleasured me.

“Ooh, Zach. Baby, don’t stop. Kiss me. Kiss me now, baby.”

His smile broadened to an impish grin. I wrapped my right arm around his neck for support just as I was about to release.

He leaned into me again. I got more excited; I knew he was about to devour my tongue passionately with his—he was going to answer my plea.

But he stopped and whispered, “You were not a good girl today, Ms. Winterfield.” I looked at him with my mouth agape, badly wanting his tongue. “In fact, I recall you teasing me coming up the stairs and refusing to stop the most beautiful and sweetest pain I’ve ever had to endure. It was an arduous journey walking up those stairs behind you. I promised you I would make you pay for that.”

Holding his hand close and steady to my yearning pussy, I pleaded with him. “I…I…I thought Palmer was the redemption?”

He shook his head slowly. “You thought wrong.”

“But—”

“Yes, love; it was your butt that you were teasing me with. It was a very painful delight—blessings, as you called it.”

“Zach?”  I cried out, pouting.

“Yes, love?”

“Really?”

“Yes, Abigail.” He pulled his hand away from my aching pussy and gave me a checkmate smirk and brow lift. He began applying his body wash to his skin.

Again? OK, two can play that game! It’s on!

Felling snubbed, I quickly rinsed the soap from my body using one of the other many showerheads. I exited the shower, stuck my head back in with him, and said, “Oh, well. It is what it is. Isn’t it?”

He smiled in agreement, and I turned the hot water off, leaving him screaming, “A-bi-gai-l,” in an ice-cold shower, as he flinched, ducked, and dodged the cold downpour from two of the showerheads.

Sticking his head out of the shower, after turning the hot water back on, he promised, “You’re going to pay for that one, too.”

“Oh, yeah? Checkmate!” I spurred mischievously.

He furrowed his eyebrows, and I shrugged my shoulders with a tilted head and a slight smile. He tilted his head with a grin and furrowed his eyebrows more.

***

In the bedroom I applied some sesame body oil to my entire body, put on the long ice-blue silk nightgown Zach had bought me, and lay in the bed. Zach came from the bathroom with a cream-colored towel wrapped around his waist and stopped my breath.

Damn, baby. You are sexy as hell. So appetizing. Mm…and you are all mine.

Beads of water were still rolling down from his chiseled, soft and hairless olive chest to his well-defined stomach. As I looked down his head-turning, mouth-watering, and blood-boiling stature, I saw the tool that he was blessed with and giftedly used was very prominent through the towel. And it wasn’t even erect.

“Mm…Mr. Sexy indeed,” I said, propping myself on my elbow.

“Don’t Mr. Sexy me.” He nuzzled my neck. “Why did you turn off the hot water?”

I looked at him passionately. “Hmm…justice demands an eye for an eye. And that there wasn’t even the beginning of any such justice.”

“So sexy and revengeful. Ouch!” he replied with a smile. He lay beside me. “Do you like the gown, love?” he asked, running his hands over the silk, along my curves on my hip and thigh.

“I do. It fits perfectly.”

“Stand up. Let me see you in it,” he commanded.

The way he looked at me—so sensual and dominant—and seductively demanded to see me made my blood boil. I obeyed quickly in hopes of a sensual or sexual reward.

“Mm…damn. Beautiful, baby,” he said breathlessly with a hearty smile.

I would’ve never thought that Zach McConnallay was the kind of man who would appreciate long negligees. I thought for sure that he was a the-skimpier-the-better kind of guy.

Though I loved my skimpy nightwear, I’d always preferred the longer, less revealing, use-your-imagination ones.

“Do you like?” I asked.

“Yes…I…do, babe. It reveals all without revealing all. The way it’s barely clinging to and outlining your curves…mm…such a tease. One could only imagine what lies beneath.” He flexed his palm back and forth. “Come here, love. Let me hold you.” That made my heart melt. He wanted to cuddle. Girls loved to cuddle.

With Zach lying beside me, looking and apparently feeling blissful, I decided to forego attempting a second round of hot, steamy sex and further questioning about Taylor, my car, his disappearing acts, and the man he’d once shared a roof with—Dr. Epps. Instead I kissed him with every ounce of love I had in me and call it a night.

I woke up at 5:15 a.m. and reached out to kiss Zach, but I kissed the air instead. He wasn’t in the bed. I called out his name and didn’t get any response. I left the bedroom and was heading downstairs to check there when I heard voices coming from the third level. The voices were muffled, so I walked up the stairs softly to avoid being heard. The closer I got to Zach’s office, the clearer the female voice had become.

I heard her say, “I love you, Zach. This is very beautiful.”

He responded, “I love you, too. I’m glad you like it.”

WTF?

I walked in and responded, “I love you also, Zach.”

His eyes grew big, as did those of the woman sitting next to him. I knew I had the most evil look on my face.

“A-A-Ab—” he stuttered.

“Abigail,” I said with an attitude, looking back and forth between the two of them sternly. “What is very beautiful? What is going on here?” I asked.

“A-Abigail, baby.” He got up and reached out for my hand, but I pulled back from him. The woman beside him stood, and he said, “Baby, let me—”

“Explain? ” I hissed, finishing his sentence. “Please do. You have some balls to—”

“No, love! Let me introduce you to my mother, Marietta Kerrich.” He smiled, pulling me close to him.

Oh, fuck! Thanks a lot, Ms. Jealous-Ass. What a nice way to meet the man’s mother for the first time.

His mom was of medium height, with long dark hair, and she had soft olive skin and greenish-gray eyes, just like Zach. She looked very young, which was why I had foolishly assumed she was someone other than his mom.

I closed my eyes and put my head down in shame. “Oh, God. Can I be any more embarrassed?” I buried my face in Zach’s chest for refuge. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead.

“Don’t be,” Marietta said, affectionately pulling me from Zach’s chest and into her own. “I’ve heard so much about you, Abigail. Zach calls me every day to talk about you. And you are indeed very gorgeous…absolutely beautiful.” She lifted my reddened face up to meet hers. She looked at Zach and gave him a “mother approves” nod and smile.

“Thank you for making him so happy. He’s never been happier,” she said with a smile and a kiss to my left cheek.

“Thank you. You are very gorgeous yourself. It’s nice to meet you also, Ms. Kerrich. And I am so very sorry for assuming you were someone other than his mom.”

She waved her hand. “No problem, darling. I understand completely. He was a skirt chaser.”

Did she really just say that about her own son?

“Hmm. He did change his women like he did his underwear. But he is now my stalking Lothario,” I said, leaving his mother laughing.

“Enough already,” Zach said. “And what the hell is a Lothario?” He didn’t take to us laughing at him. His mom and I looked at each other and continued laughing.

“Oh, come on, Zach. We’re just teasing. Nothing to be upset by,” his mother said, kissing him on his cheek and forehead. He smiled.

So that’s where he gets the pacifying from. And he’s a mamma’s boy!

Who would’ve thought that Mr. Domineering, Commanding, Control Freak Zach Austin McConnallay was a six-foot-three, two hundred twenty pounds of lean muscle hunkalicious mamma’s boy?

Tearing away at the mask a little at a time, I thought. I just smiled.

Chapter Two

“Nooo,” I said to Zach, who tried to sneak in a morning quickie when we got back down to the bedroom. He tried for a few minutes with no success. He continued trying when we were in the shower, but he struck out there also. I left him alone in the shower and started getting ready for the day.

When he came from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and smelling so damn good, all of my senses immediately concentrated on him.

Overtaken by his familiar, heart-throbbing, panty-dropping scent, complements of La Nuit de L’Homme by Yves Saint Laurent, I had my own sudden urge for a quickie. Looking at him, damn near salivating, I undid the towel around his waist, let it drop to the floor, and kissed him deeply.

“Stop, babe. We have to get ready for work,” he said, removing my arms from around his neck.

Ouch! He had resisted me. He never resisted me. I looked at him in complete surprise, still wondering what was up with him. Usually all I had to do was look at him a little too long, and he’d be ready to pounce all over me. But not this time. Not even biting my bottom lip got a rise out of him. Literally.

“I thought it was what you wanted,” I said, roaming my hands across his chest.

“I did. Now come on and let’s get ready for work,” he said, pulling away from my clutch.

Son of a bitch masturbated in the shower.

“Hah! Did you at least use me for inspiration?” I asked, grinning and making the masturbation gesture.

He elevated his brows in response and went into the walk-in closet to select his ensemble for the day.

I couldn’t imagine Zach masturbating. He was so used to getting whatever girl he wanted, when he wanted, and doing them how he wanted. He never had to work hard or ask twice for sex. But I’d denied him sex, and in response, he self-pleasured when he could’ve sought pleasure elsewhere. It reconfirmed his desire for only me. It made me happy, but I still pouted—I wanted him inside of me badly.

After getting ready for work, Zach went up to the third-level bedroom to check in on his mom. She was sound asleep. Before heading out, he grabbed our cell phones from the charging station and our keys from the key holder.

Handing me my handbag, he said, “These keys are to this penthouse.”

He showed me some keys on my key ring. That surprised me. There were also other keys on my key ring that were to his Pennsylvania Avenue condo and his offices, and he had even had a set of keys to his cars made that were on the key holder labeled “Abi’s Keys.”

Wow! I would’ve never imagined that Zach would ever give me keys to anything of his, especially so soon after we’d met. It hadn’t even been a month. But I accepted them just as I accepted the fact that he was undeniably in love with me.

“Come here, love. This is how you operate the alarm system. The security code is eighty-five-eighty-two—our birth years, yours first.”

Wow! He’d even changed his security code to include my birthday. I smiled inside at the thought.

“Remember to keep all the windows closed before arming the alarm.” He arched his brows at me.

He knew I loved sleeping with the windows open. I’d always loved the fresh breeze of the spring and fall air.

He opened the door and ushered me out with his hand on my lower back. We got on the elevator, and I pressed PP—Penthouse Parking—while Zach pressed L for Lobby.

“Why are you going down there?” he asked.

“That’s where my car is.”

I looked at him, and his look implied that he wasn’t pleased with me silently turning down his offer to let Mr. Galloway chauffeur me around.

I had planned to drive my dark blue metallic Cayenne Turbo.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you that Galloway was taking you to and from wherever you need to go?”

“Yes, but I can drive myself.” I moved closer to him, put my arms around his waist, and looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry I can’t accept your offer, and I do appreciate it very much. But I’m going to drive the Porsche. OK?”

“No, it’s not OK, Abigail. If your other car was vandalized, just what do you think would happen to this car if you were seen driving in it? Huh?”

He was clearly upset from the tone in his voice and scowl on his face. He exited the elevator on the lobby level, and in one final attempt, he turned to look at me with his right hand out, wordlessly requesting me to accept his offer. The elevator doors closed.

Feeling über-elated by my decision, he beamed, and he wasted no time pulling me close to him to place a slow, passionate kiss on me.

“Thank you for accepting the offer,” he said, wrapping his right arm around my waist as we walked through the lobby.

Enwrapped in Zach, I forgot to greet Mr. Bill, the concierge, as I did every morning. So before we reached the front lobby door, I turned back around to say hi to Mr. Bill. We exchanged pleasantries, and I proceeded out of the lobby door with Zach.

Galloway greeted us, opening the door to the backseat. “Good morning, Mr. McConnallay, Ms. Winterfield.”

“Abi or Abigail is fine, sir. Good morning to you also, Mr. Galloway,” I replied with a smile.

“Good morning, Galloway,” Zach replied.

After we settled in, Zach opened his laptop and asked me to look at an article on his mom. She was addressed as Marietta Kerrich, MD, PhD., professor of psychiatry, psychology, and neuroscience, head of Carnegie Mellon University’s Psychology Department, who had been tenured two years ago.

“That’s great, Zach. But you never told me she was a psychiatrist.”

Closing his laptop and putting it back in its case, he grabbed my hands and said, “I asked her to talk to you so—”

“You did what?” Gritting my teeth vehemently, I continued, “Who the hell do you think you are inviting people into my private life?  You know how I feel about psychiatrists.”

“My mom isn’t anything like the rest of those fucking asshole psychiatrists that refused to listen to you, and I am not sorry, nor will I apologize for trying to help you. She’s not just a physiatrist, Abi, but also a neurologist. She’s here to Sunday night; you can talk to her or not, but I hope you will. Either option you choose, I’m still going to love you.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me about this first to get my approval?”

“I was going to, Abigail. But it got pushed aside in the midst of the whole Taylor and the car situation. It merely slipped my mind that I told her I would have her flown here this morning. I’m sorry I didn’t give you any advance warning, but not for asking her to talk to you. I will never be sorry for that.”

He massaged the wrinkles in my forehead with his right thumb as if he were trying to iron them out.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and asked, “When? When do you want me to talk to your mom?”

“Look at me, Abigail.” I opened my eyes, and he was looking at me intensely.

“Whenever you are ready,” he said.

I didn’t know what to think or say, so I fell back into the seat and closed my eyes again. I was furious with Zach, but I wanted to give his mom a try in the hopes he would finally open up to me and reveal some of himself. A tit for tat. What’s the worst that could happen? She’ll tell her son to run quick and far from me because I’m too fucked up in the head? Too unstable to be with him?

He pulled me beside him and said, “Don’t be upset with me, Abigail. I just want what’s best for you. And my mom is the best.” He belted it out with pure confidence. He really believed that his mom could help me. As far as I saw it, his mom could’ve been just like the rest of them, especially since she was married to Dr. Henry Epps.

Why did Zach even think it was a good idea for me to talk to a woman—mother or not—who was married to the same monster that had raped me?

I laid my head against his chest and stayed quiet the rest of the ride to work, appreciating the fact that he was interested in seeing me get better. I couldn’t fault him for honestly wanting to do what was best for me.

***

We arrived in front of the office building, and Zach opened the door to escort me out before Galloway could even get out of his seat belt. Walking toward the building, Zach reached out to grab my wrist and pulled me back to him.

“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and asked, “What…no kiss good-bye?” He looked down at me with those amazing greenish-gray eyes of his and pouted.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were walking in with me,” I replied dryly.

“I have to go to McConnallay Enterprises headquarters today to finalize an acquisition with my family after I’m done with the STDs testing. Can I have lunch with you today, or are you too upset?” He searched my eyes, probably hoping there wasn’t a hint of refusal in them.

“I just wish you would’ve discussed it with me first. And, yes, after I come back from getting tested at the lab, I would love it if we could have lunch together.” I smiled and walked away.

“A-bi-gai-l?”  Zach called out my name tunefully.

I turned to face him with a puzzled frown. He gestured for me to come to him with his eyebrows drawn in, flexing his index finger.

I walked back to him. “Yes?”

“I’m still waiting for my good-bye, have-a-nice-day kiss.”

“Babe, I don’t think it’s—”

He lifted my chin and said firmly, “I don’t give a damn about who sees us or knows.”

He pulled me closer to him with some oomph, put his left hand in my hair, and kissed me fervidly. Reciprocating his passion, I put my arms around his waist and clung to his hips, expressing my love for him publicly. He grew hard and grinned against my lips.

“See what you do to me, Ms. Winterfield?”

Breaking the kiss, I asked, “Better, baby?” I ground against him teasingly. “You want to put that away before you end up missing your meeting?” I winked.

He gave me three more brief kisses. “That actually doesn’t sound bad at all, but then I will never hear the end of it from my dad or grandfather.” Patting my backside, he kissed my neck and said, “Have a great day, love. See you around noon.”

“You have yourself a great and productive day as well. See you at noon.”

I kissed him once more and walked away, feeling blissful. I looked back, and he was still standing there, taking me in, staring at my ass. He started laughing hard when I shooed him.

Noticing that he wasn’t going to leave until I was safely inside of the building, I waved bye and swayed my hips as I entered the building. By the time I got to the middle of the lobby, Zach had texted me:

You know what happens when you tease me with your ass…that mighty fine, plump ass of yours…

I replied, standing in the lobby with a huge smile:

Option 1: I get the magnificent Palmer? Option 2: You deprive me of an orgasm? Or option 3: You fuck me superbly well? Hint: I love 1 and 3…(wink)

He replied with a wink, and all I could do was cradle the phone to my chest with a huge smile as I walk toward the elevator feeling treasured.

“Hmm…and here I am hoping and praying that I would be the lucky bastard that put such a beautiful smile across that gorgeous face of yours.”

I knew exactly to whom that deep voice teasing me belonged. Washington.

I stopped midstride and turned to acknowledge him. His arms were crossed at his chest in a defensive posture.

I said hi, and Officer Washington, with his dark blue eyes steadfast and intent on me, said, “You’re such a heartbreaker, Abigail Winterfield.”

I shrugged my shoulders with my normal amicable smile.

He shook his head in a hurt, but joking, I assumed, manner and said, “A big fuck-ing heartbreaker, you know that?”

I ignored him as I had always done to his past advances and got on the elevator thinking about Zach—the man to whom I’d given my heart and soul.

Lauren, my stepsister, was there. She was my stepdad’s daughter from a previous marriage. She and I didn’t have the best relationship. She was average weight with blue eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and a natural olive skin tone. Timmie, my assistant, and another woman from another company in the building were also there. Lauren furrowed her brows in a surprised manner that Timmie noticed.

“Great morning, everyone,” I said cheerfully, taking my hot chocolate and cream cheese croissant from Timmie. “Thank you, Timmie.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Blushing Glowworm,” he replied, looking me up and down quizzically.

“Mm-hmm! That glow and perkiness are definitely the signs of being in love,” the petite black woman in her late forties said with a smile before she exited the elevator on the fourth floor. I smiled and sipped my hot chocolate.

“Since when did you start getting on the elevator from the lobby?” Timmie asked.

“I didn’t drive my car today.”

“OK, Abi! You’ve been all smiles, flowers, and shine these past four or five weeks. And now you’re getting dropped off at work. Who is he?”

I tilted my head and smiled. It was really a blush.

“Don’t hold out on me, Ms. Thing. Ms. I-have-a-new-man-and-I’m-not-going-to-tell-anyone. Lauren, tell your sister to stop being selfish with the manformation and spill the beans,” Timmie said.

“There isn’t any manformation to share,” I replied. “And only you can come up with an enchanting way of asking for information on a man. It’s cute, though, which means I’m going to steal it.”

Lauren narrowed her brows questioningly, and Timmie added, “Whoever he is, he’s damned sure doing you so properly that you’re not just glowing, you’re scintillating like hell. Just glistening…look at you, Abi.” He stepped back to give me a once-over with his mouth agape.

I felt my face flame, and before I could reply, Timmie said, “And don’t tell me it’s your makeup.” He waved his index finger in my face and continued, “Shimmer makeup my ass! That there is what you call some great loving. Is he a looker?”

I only shrugged my shoulders with a truthful smile as we exited the elevator and proceeded to start our day. I buried myself in preparation for the upcoming monthly employees’ evaluations and the résumés that Lauren had narrowed down and sent to me, and later I went to the lab to be tested for any STDs.

My phone rang at noon. It was Zach. I answered, “Hello, Mr. Sexy.” I was blushing hard.

“Hey, baby,” he mumbled.

“What’s the matter, sexy? You sound so down.”

“I have to give you a rain check on lunch today. I’m sorry, baby. This acquisition isn’t going as planned, and Galloway is in front of the building waiting for you.”

“But you just said we’re not having lunch, so why is he waiting for me?” I asked, completely confused.

“Baby, we could really use your help. My grandfather is trying to acquire an Italian company, and the owner speaks little English, and we don’t know if the translators, who are his grandsons and the executives of the company, are being forthcoming.”

“Say no more. I’m heading out of the office now.” I grabbed my handbag and told Timmie that I might be back.

Getting in the back of the vehicle, I commented, “Interesting fragrance.” Zach’s mother wore that same fragrance.

Galloway looked at me in the rearview mirror. His eyes widened, and his mouth was slightly ajar.

Hmm. I wonder how long they’ve been together. And from the look he just gave me, I’m sure Zach doesn’t know.

I elevated my brows and put my index finger over my lips. He nodded with a smile, which I returned. We arrived at McConnallay Enterprises on K Street Northwest, and Zach was waiting at the curb.

Zach gave me an apologetic kiss first and then a thank-you-for-coming-to-help-us-out kiss afterward. I enjoyed them both equally. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and we went into the building and got on the elevator. Zach swiped an electronic key and pressed the button for floor eight.

“Why an electronic key?” I probed.

“All employees of this building must have one to gain access. And of course mine have more accommodating features.”

“And what about your other buildings? Why not have the same level of security?” I asked, referring back to the van without license plates that his security allowed in the parking garage.

“One thing at a time, baby. Let’s go; this is us.”

We got off the elevator on the eighth floor, which opened into the conference room where his folks and Matt were waiting. They rose and greeted me with open arms.

After my introduction to the Moretti family, I sat beside Zach, who was more than happy to share his presentation binder with me. It was as if we were two high schoolers. We played footsie and rubbed our legs against each other under the table all day.

As some of the men falsely translated the eldest Moretti’s words, not knowing that I was fluent in Italian, I sat back, played footsie, and listened.

After getting Zach’s grandfather’s permission to speak openly to the old gentleman—the eldest Moretti, the owner—I asked him in Italian, “Is it your desire to keep your company intact?”

“You speak a little Italian?” one of the grandsons asked in English. He sounded astonished, and the look on his face confirmed he was.

I cut my eyes at him. “Little? I’m fluent—I speak, read, and write Italian very well,” I replied in Italian. He sat back in his chair, looking at his brother.

His grandfather finally answered my question. “I would love it if the Moretti name stays on everything and my sons and grandsons stay on board as executives. But if you guys have to release everything Moretti, including the name, after the merger and acquisition, I understand. You can do whatever you want with all of the smaller companies we own. They’ve been a thorn in my side since my grandsons purchased them with sixty percent of my money. I don’t give a damn about cosmetics, cheap and fake Italian shoes and handbags, or magazines with twigs on the covers.”

“Smaller companies?” I asked, shocked, looking back at Zach with brows knitted.

Zach shook his head, flipping through the pages of the proposal, looking for any mention of those companies, as did Matt and the rest of the McConnallays.

“I’m sure I can speak for these gentlemen when I say this is the first we’re hearing of smaller companies,” I finally said, scowling at the Morettis, the grandsons in particular, who closed their eyes and shook their heads. They appeared to be annoyed by their grandfather’s reveal. Their reactions only confirmed what the McConnallays had expected.

The Moretti grandsons had concealed information that was vital to the merger and acquisition and taken advantage of the language barrier.

“And what are these small companies that we would be procuring?” Zach’s father asked, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers, just like Zach always did. The same habit I had gotten from Zach, he had obviously gotten from his dad. I chuckled inside.

“I want a list of these small companies you’re trying to hide from us right away, and don’t forget any of them this time,” I demanded angrily.

After the elder Morettis ripped into the younger ones for bringing shame on the family for dealing dirty business, especially during a merger and acquisition, further investigation during the meeting revealed that the grandsons had chosen to conceal the companies because they were passionate about the ventures that they had purchased with 40 percent of their own money. They didn’t want to lose control of their companies that were pretty successful. Understandably so. Who wanted to see their companies acquisitioned off to another enterprise that could possibly reap the benefits of the hard work and dedication they had put into their company to make it as successful as it was? Those companies included automotive design and suppliers, cosmetics, fashion and apparel, publishing, and marketing companies.

Because of their shady doings, we spent nearly four hours researching each of the small companies in which Moretti Enterprises had controlling interest. I was very fond of their portfolio and found them indeed lucrative, if steered properly.

“Ninety million—for Moretti’s wine and beer companies, leisure and resorts, coffee import and supplies, construction companies, and the small companies you own,” Zach’s grandfather offered.

“But the small companies we own gross over fifty-five million dollars per year alone, and Grandfather’s businesses gross over one hundred fifty million,” the younger grandson voiced angrily.

I countered in English, “Eighty million. Had you been forthcoming in the beginning about these companies, you probably would’ve gotten more. We’re offering base on the proposal you provided us with. Deal or no deal? And every second it takes you to deliberate, we deduct one million from the offer.”

“What?” he said, glaring at me with an intimidating look. I arched my brow and returned his stare. And so did Zach.

I leaned back, crossed my legs, then my arms over my chest, and started counting down, looking between the grandsons. “Eighty…seventy-nine…seventy-eight…seventy-seven…seventy-six…seventy-five…seventy-four…seventy—”

“OK! Deal,” the younger grandson said.

“Seventy-four point five?” I asked Zach’s grandfather.

He nodded and looked at me with a smile, very pleased. I looked over at Mr. Moretti and asked the same in Italian. He smiled and nodded gleefully, as he knew he’d just gotten a great deal, especially since Moretti Enterprises wasn’t bringing in the 150 million a year the grandson had stated. Those days when they saw that much money were long over, like ten years over.

“Seventy-four point five it is!” Zach said, tapping Matt’s laptop—his cue to Matt to draw up the contracts.

Matt, who was athletically built and tall with brown eyes and dark hair, was not only Zach’s best friend but also the boyfriend of my best friend, Carmen, and the father of their daughter, Megan, began working on the contracts. The Moretti grandsons hesitantly shook hands with everyone, while the Moretti elders and eldest were delighted to show their appreciation of the bailout. The deal guaranteed the McConnallays 95 percent controlling interest and control of management, while the Moretti’s maintained 5 percent with a seventy-four million five hundred thousand-dollar payday. The Moretti elders and grandsons would stay on board as executives, and the business would run under the watchful eyes of the McConnallays while the eldest Moretti retired peacefully and still raked in the dough.

Allowing the Morettis 5 percent ownership and executive seating kept the Moretti name buzzing. It meant increased revenue since they had influence in Italy and other European countries that the McConnallays just didn’t have. It was clearly a victory-on-both-sides situation.

I sat beside Matt at Zach’s laptop and listened as Xander told the grandsons, “If you really want controlling interest in your small companies, all you have to do is make us an offer. Surely you can afford it now.”

Zach added, “And if the offer is really good, you can reacquire Moretti Enterprises.”

“It sounds like you brothers are taunting us. One should never gloat over another’s misfortune,” the older grandson stated.

“And one should have never tried to foolishly cozen the McConnallays. Then there would be no need to gloat,” Zach countered.

***

The McConnallay and Moretti grandsons went back and forth until Zach and Xander eventually agreed to meet with them in a few months to discuss the ventures the McConnallays had acquired.

After the egos were all pushed aside and the two sets of grandsons settled their differences, the oldest Moretti grandson promised Zach and Xander, “When you guys come to Italy to see how business is running, we’re going to take you guys to see the real beauty of Italy—the ladies.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, or we’re postponing that damn meeting and holding your interests hostage until you do so,” Xander teased.

Xander was tall like Zach, something they had acquired from their dad, Aaron; he had dark, sexy, messy hair, blue-green eyes, and was athletically built. Xander was without a doubt a philanderer. He, I later found out, was the reason why Zach, his baby brother, was one.

“Well, if that’s the case, let’s board the jet now, and I’ll introduce you to some of the finest Italian flesh you’ll ever see and feast on,” the youngest grandson suggested.

Zach’s gaze met mine from the corner of his eye. I didn’t know what that gaze of his was all about, but I only smiled and assumed, hmm…that so piqued his interest. Do you want to go to Italy, Zach, with all the fine Italian women so you can satisfy your appetite of them?

As if Zach had heard my thoughts, he wrapped his left arm around me and stroked my spine, sending a needy sensation throughout my body.

Everyone talked and joked while the elders talked, via my translation, and sipped on some brandy. After acknowledging my translation and business skills, Mr. Moretti complimented my beauty and gave me his warm blessings to marry one of his grandsons.

“Maybe some of your business expertise would rub off on the one you choose,” he said, making a joke about their choice of business deals.

I smiled and thanked him for his kind words and told him that I belonged to the youngest McConnallay. He passed his regards to Zach through me and carried on with his conversation with the other men.

By the time Matt finished with the contracts and both sides signed them, it was after six in the evening, and I was starving.

I grabbed Zach’s arm, pulled him to me, and whispered, “I’m starving. I need something to eat. And I trust I could have you for dessert?”

“OK, baby,” he said, immediately grabbing his things and cutting his conversation short. “Can’t wait for dessert.”

We said good-bye, and Zach’s father and grandfather hugged and thanked me again, while Xander and Matt promised to catch up with us later.

When I got in the car, I called Gabi, my daughter, to check on her. She was doing fine and had finished all of her homework. She rushed me off the phone so she could finish showing her little sister, Erma, how to play the guitar, violin, and piano.  Erma was not only my goddaughter but also the daughter of my ex-fiancé, Gabriel, and ex-best friend, Karen.

Gabrielle loved her sister very much, and she loved living up to the big sister role just as much. I loved Erma too, despite her parents hurting me with their betrayal.

Whenever Gabi and I would go shopping, she’d always grab something for Erma and say, “‘Erma would look fly in this. What do you think, Mom?’” or “‘Erma would totally love this.’” That was just who Gabi was. She was genuinely sweet, kind, thoughtful, and the product of both her parents. In short, it was best not to piss Gabrielle Justine Goodman off because I or Gabe might just come out of her.

“How’s she doing, baby?” Zach asked after I ended the call.

“She’s fine. She rushed me off the phone so she could show her sister how to play some instruments,” I replied, laying my head on his chest.

He kissed my forehead and asked, “Where’d you learn to negotiate like that, babe?”

“I’m sorry about that, babe. Threatening to reduce the price every second is a habit I picked up from my grandfather, and it could’ve cost your family that M and A. It won’t happen again.”

“No, babe. It’s OK. You did nothing wrong and everything right. You saved us a lot of money. How did you know that they would accept after dropping the price, per second?”  He smiled.

      “It’s a global recession. I knew they didn’t want their enterprise dissected and sold to the highest bidders, so I fed off of that. Besides, I think the grandsons are going to want to buy the company back in a few years, and they can’t do that if it’s not intact.”

      Zach nodded. “You were amazing, love. A natural…it’s in your DNA.” He kissed me and I continued to lie in his chest until we reached Sens, Zach’s lounge and restaurant, less than ten minutes later.

***

 “Mr. McConnallay, sir; Ms. Winterfield, ma’am. How are you?” the bouncer asked, removing the velvet rope.

      “Fine,” I replied after Zach said he was fine.

      We went to the same private section as the last time, and his mother was already there waiting.

      “Nice to see you again, Abigail,” she said, hugging me and kissing my cheek before doing the same to Zach.

      “Very nice to see you again, ma’am,” I said, sitting in the chair Zach pulled out for me.

      “Mari or Marietta is fine,” she said, smiling.

      We placed our orders and made small talk before Zach’s mother finally said, “So, Zach tells me you’ve agreed to have a few sessions with me while I’m here.”

    “Yes, that is correct, but I have to be honest with you and Zach.” I grabbed Zach’s hand that was on my right knee, held it tightly, and said, “I am very apprehensive when it comes to speaking with a psychiatrist—you. I’ve had nothing but bad luck with one psychiatrist after the other, and I really don’t want to put myself back through the agony of talking to another one, who, from past experiences, I’m not sure if I could trust.”

Looking at Zach, who snatched his hand away from mine, I continued, “I’m sorry if I said anything to offend or hurt anyone here, but that’s my dilemma—”

“Stop it, Abigail. You are embarrassing me,” Zach whispered. “I told her you were OK with it.”

I ignored him. “It’s my dilemma—my internal battle with this whole situation and psychiatrists in general.” I looked back to his mom. “I know as a psychiatrist you don’t want to hear what I am about to say—”

Zach was in my ear again. “Abigail, I told you to stop. You are making me very angry with you, love,” he said in a gritted whisper.

Ignoring Zach further, I proceeded, “I know as a psychiatrist you don’t want to hear what I am about to say next, but I’m going to say it. I know I should be talking to you for myself—for my own healing and because I really want and need the help, but right now I’m doing this for Zach. I will eventually start doing it for myself when I feel comfortable enough to open up.”

“Excuse us, Mother,” Zach said, showing signs of his anger as he quickly helped me up from my seat.

“Both of you sit down,” his mother said sternly.

Zach looked at me, and I swore the heat he was radiating  yanked me by my collar and said, you’re in big trouble.

We sat down, and she said, “Zach, there’s no need for you to be upset with Abigail for speaking her mind. She said everything right. And Abigail, you are right. As a psychiatrist, I don’t want to hear that you are talking to me about your past for Zach’s sake, but given your past experiences, you said exactly what I expected you to. Anyone who has been wronged by the psychology community the way Zach said you have been would have ill feelings like the ones you harbor. Love makes people do things they really don’t want to do, including talking to a psychiatrist. So the fact that you’ve agreed to talk to me is a great sign of that.”

I smiled at her and said, “Thank you.”

Zach put his left hand back on my knee, squeezed it gently, and stroked and caressed my inner thigh. A soundless apology. I nodded my head, accepting his apology without looking at him.

Our food arrived, and we ate and talked about some interesting things, including Zach as a kid.

“Zach used to play the guitar, piano, and sax,” his mom revealed.

“I used to play the guitar and piano also,” I said, looking at Zach with a large smile. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a musician?”

“I guess for the same reasons you never told me about your musical background.” His smile was equally wide. “I guess we have something else in common.”

His mom pulled her phone from her purse and took a picture of us. “That’s my new background and screen saver,” she said, showing us the image of us looking deeply into each other’s eyes smiling—so in love.

It was definitely a beautiful picture, and Zach requested a copy of it.

Moments later Marietta’s phone rang, and her smile widened. “Hi, Daniel. No, I haven’t talked to him about it yet. All right, love, I’ll handle it. Later, love.”

He totally gets his sensitivity from his mom. He calls me “love” the same way she says it to Galloway.

She ended her call and looked at Zach, who was watching her with narrowed eyes. I smiled. I knew it was Galloway.

“It sounds serious. Is it something I could help you with?” Zach asked.

“It’s nothing. It will be fine,” she replied.

“And Daniel is?” Zach asked, looking directly at his mom.

Galloway, I screamed to myself. I really wanted to tell Zach, but I knew it wasn’t my place to do so.

Avoiding the question, Marietta said, “You two are so beautiful together—very much in love and so happy. Hold on to what makes you this happy and in love because when the times get rough, you will need to reflect back on this moment to remind you of what you truly have.”

Zach laughed. “Does that mean it’s none of my business?”

His mom only smiled and said, “So, Abi, tomorrow after lunch?”

Hesitantly I said, “Yes.”

“Great. I’ll see you then,” she said, grabbing her handbag and getting up.

Looking puzzled, Zach asked, “Where are you going?”

“Are you my father or my son?” She kissed him on his cheek.

Zach shook his head and returned his mom’s kiss. Marietta said good-bye and turned quickly.

Ha-ha! How does it feel to be pacified so damn much? Now you know how it feels.

After we finished eating, Zach and I went to a different section of the lounge and danced to a few songs. From the way Zach moved in the bed, I should’ve known that the man had moves on the dance floor as well. They were groovy and on point with mine.

With my hands in the air, feeling and enjoying the music, I moved in rhythm to the beat, snaking, gyrating, and rocking my hips from side to side.

Zach looked damn fine letting the music take his body as well. He’d taken off his suit jacket, removed his necktie, undone a few buttons from the top of his shirt, and rolled his sleeves up. And that made him look that much more sexy and delicious.

In the hippest way, he kept his body in perfect sync with mine. Dancing around him, I had to sneak a peek at that nice, firm ass of his.

“Like what you see?” he asked, turning his head slightly to his right and pulling me into his back so that I danced close behind him.

He grinded his booty into me the same way I’d done to him. I laughed—it was a side of Zach I’d never seen. He was loving the music and me.

“Yes,” I finally said. “Your ass looks amazing. Keep doing what you’re doing. Who knew you were as avid a dancer as you are a love maker?”

“Let me show you what avidity really is. I’ll be back.” He pulled away.

“Where are you going?” I asked, confused.

“I’m going to grab your phone from the office so I can have Tony, the DJ, play a few songs that I like in your playlist.”

“Which ones?” I raised my naturally landscaped eyebrows with a slight grin.

 “I like all the music you listen to; in fact we listen to just about all of the same artists. But I’m talking about the album Sex Down by—I think his name is Link.”

I blushed. Playing that album always started a fire, and Zach knew that.

 “Zach, that album is too sex—” Before I could say it was too sexual to play in the lounge, he was already running up to his office to grab my phone.

After handing my phone to the DJ and issuing instructions, Zach strolled right over to me, looking sexy as hell, with seductive eyes. He pulled me to him by my waist with authority and tightened his grip, just as the lights dimmed and the song began.

‘Welcome…to…my…sex…down…’ blasted sensually throughout the lounge’s speakers. That opening line to the song said it all. He led me into an intense grind. Slowly winding with me, his penis began bulging.

When “I Really Wanna Sex Your Body” started playing, Zach turned me so that my back was to him, held my waist even tighter, and grind for grind and wind for wind, he had my pussy thumping for him. As I swerved my hips to the left and right, so did he, and when I slowly wound my body, he was right there with me—all over me. Zach knew my body well, even on the dance floor.

Zach’s lips and warm tongue found the left side of my flushed neck as he sang along with the song close to my ear. “I really wanna sex your body…I really wanna sex your body.  S.E.X. your body…”  He pulled my neck into the warmth of his mouth just as I pulled my right arm back and hooked it around his neck and started to snake my body into him.

“Fuck, Abigail. Baby, you’re going to make me cum,” he whispered in my left ear.

Snaking with more intent and in rhythm with the song, I drew my other arm around his neck and let my body fall into his as I continued dancing provocatively—suggestively. His hands started caressing my full hips, thighs, and stomach, traveling under my shirt and up my stomach. I smacked his hands away just as he tweaked my nipples through my black lace bra while sucking the left side of my neck fervently.

“I’m sorry, baby. I got carried away,” Zach whispered.

Facing him and still moving, I said, “Don’t let it happen again…on the dance floor. But your office. Upstairs…” I trailed, elevating my brows suggestively, and let his imagination run wild as I grinded my dripping wet heated pussy onto his hot bulge even harder.

His lips curled demonically on mine as he took my tongue in his mouth and pulled me into him as close as possible, gripping my waist just as tightly.

Whispering in my ear, he said, “If I recall, the last time we were here and things were a bit heated, you told me I had to…uh…handle it…” He thrust his hips into mine, gripped me tighter while he grinded against mine, and continued, “…properly.” He let out a wave of his warm breath onto my neck as he’d done several times that day.

“Come. Let’s go to my office to talk about those positions over a Perfect Angel, the same drink that made me so goddamn hard for you when you sinfully demonstrated how to knock the shot back.” He pulled away and grabbed my right hand. I followed close behind, hand in hand, with a sopping wet and eager pussy just as “Gimmie Some” started playing in the background.