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“When true love arrives, men grow timid while women grow brave,” I quote. “We also read that today. But none of your words or actions have a hint of timidness.”
Zayne smiles, moving closer. “It’s because I also have a promise to make,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my fingers. “I will never let the girl I love be brave on her own.”
I stare at him for a long moment.
And then I step back - but keep his hand firmly grasped in my own, tugging him with me.
Zayne’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Another surprise, Miss Hunter?”
I shake my head. “You can’t just say something like that.”
I push him into the elevator, and with the push of a button we begin to ascend. As electricity crackles between us, I can see Zayne fighting back laughter.
“I don’t want this to end. And I don’t want to go home.”
We aren’t moving fast enough.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
Finally, the elevator arrives at my floor, and the moment the doors open I pull Zayne down the corridor, reaching the entrance to my apartment shortly after.
“Impatient, are we?” Zayne asks innocently as I struggle to scan my fingerprint.
But when we finally stumble inside, I haven’t even taken my jacket off when Zayne suddenly pushes me against the wall, his hands moving to cradle my face as his mouth devours my own, kissing me hungrily.
The lavender bouquet falls to the floor. I push back with equal fervour, my arms reaching up to encircle his neck, tugging him as close as is physically possible.
Zayne makes a noise of surprise in his throat and pulls back - but not by much. He presses his lips against my ear. “I assume I’m staying the night?”
I start to wrench at his coat buttons. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Zayne is still laughing when he kisses me again, and again, helping me push the heavy garment off of his arms and immediately starting with his shirt buttons.
Within moments, my hands are slipping beneath the folds of material, pressing down his chest and along the hard lines of his abdominal muscles. Zayne gasps against my mouth, a shiver running down his spine.
“Come on,” he finally gets out.
We stumble through the living room, kicking our shoes off and kissing and giggling and tripping over one another’s feet before Zayne finally scoops me up in his arms and tears across the remaining distance.
“Impatient, are we?” I mimic.
Zayne rolls his eyes, his mouth pulling at the corners. “You clearly haven’t met yourself,” he mutters. “Now, are you going to be helpful? I’d rather not take you against the door if I can help it.”
“Zayne!”
“Did I say something?”
It’s such a rare treat to see him so relaxed that unabashed joy crashes through me. Grinning, I reach out and twist the door handle. “Well, we’re not getting any younger.”
“You know, while physical intimacy itself can’t make you biologically younger, studies have suggested that due to hormonal releases, a regular and healthy -”
I’m still laughing when I kiss him, and I can feel him smiling against me as he lowers me down onto the bed and climbs on top of me.
“Didn’t realise I had an appointment with Doctor Zayne today,” I grumble playfully.
“Oh, did you want me to continue?” A smirk tugs at his lips. “Kissing is also known to reduce stress and improve your immune system -”
I huff. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”
“Oh, I can do much more than that.”
He darts in, kissing my neck. I willingly bend beneath him, letting him push me into the mattress as my hands glide up over his sides to press against his back.
“Remember what the storybook said? Those struck by lavender will vanish before their true love’s eyes.”
“I promise that will never happen so long as I’m here.”
Something flutters delicately against my eyelids, and I realise there’s a light snow flurry in my room, white flakes swirling around us.
I clutch at him, panic seizing me. “Shh, shh.”
“Hmm?”
Zayne pulls back, a small, confused crease in his brow - until he notices the snow.
“Breathe,” I whisper, placing a hand on his chest and feeling his pounding heart. “Take your time. We can slow down.”
But Zayne smiles, shaking his head, his expression adoring. “I’m alright. I promise.” He quirks an eyebrow. “It’s not like it’s our first time.”
My face flushes. “I - I know,” I stammer, “but -”
He kisses me again, this one much slower, deeper, and far more tender. “Just so you know,” he murmurs, a hint of mischief to his tone as his lips move to graze my ear, nipping my lobe, “I like how you make me lose control.”
I shiver at his low voice. “You’re not scared?”
“With you?” Zayne meets my gaze again. “Never.”
I tilt my chin up, and what starts as a sweet kiss rapidly dissolves into something far hungrier and much more desperate. I pull him firmly against me, and a strangled gasp bursts from his throat.
“You’ve always been the braver person. You’re willing to take the first step.”
“I do it because every step after that will find solid ground.”
I can already feel him pressing against my thigh. He wants this as badly as I do.
Feeling bolder, I shift my hand and palm at the seat of his pants. A shudder ripples through Zayne’s entire body, his muscles going taut as he throws his head back, gasping.
“And even though the boy said he’d leave one day, she followed her heart and fell in love with him without any hesitation.”
Zayne’s gaze suddenly snaps to meet mine. “I believe,” he says raggedly, “it’s my turn.”
Fire and ice clash, my skin burning with his touch as he presses kisses to my lips, my collarbone, my chest, nuzzling against the spot where my racing heart thrums beneath. I hold onto Zayne for dear life, fingers clutching at his hair; Zayne shivers as my nails scrape his scalp, exhaling shakily.
“They have their story, and we have ours.”
He looks at me, eyes half-lidded but full of intent, and I nod.
Zayne kisses me again, hot and heavy, but my mind is elsewhere, following the path of his wandering fingers as his hand trails down over my hips, beneath the waistband of my pants … and slips between my legs.
My breathing stutters, my head falling back. Zayne leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Does that feel good?” he whispers. “Hmm?”
My back arches, the cold of his touch making every sensation so much sharper. Everything spins, the world hazy.
“Say it,” Zayne breathes. “Tell me you want it.” He presses closer, his fingers curling into me; I can barely think - “Tell me.”
Already undoing his belt, I completely. And utterly. Surrender.
o-o-o-o-o
A sweet, floral scent permeates the air. When I open my eyes, soft golden light filters through my windows, the curtains blowing gently in the breeze.
On my nightstand is the bouquet of lavender, beautifully displayed in one of my vases.
Humming cheerfully to himself, Zayne enters the room, half-dressed and holding two steaming cups. Seeing that I’m awake, he smiles, placing the coffee on the table and kneeling down to kiss me.
“Good morning, darling,” he murmurs. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log,” I tell him. “In a perfect supine … recumbent … whatever Doctor Zayne would say.”
Zayne laughs. “Actually, the right lateral recumbent, by your current positioning. You weren’t far off.”
“See? I told you I had a medical license!” I say cheerfully.
Rolling his eyes, Zayne shakes his head fondly and leans in to kiss me.
His touch is soft, and sweet, and incredibly tender. When he pulls away, he doesn’t move far, leaning on the edge of the mattress. Zayne gazes at me adoringly, like he’s looking at his entire world; like I’m the only thing worth laying eyes on.
“I loved our date,” I blurt out. My face flushes. “It was, um … different. In the best way.”
Zayne chuckles. “Indeed. I had a good time, despite it being nothing like what we originally planned.”
I laugh, suddenly shy. “Yeah.” My mind drifts back to our walk along the waterfront. “I remember you saying you wanted to spend the next decade with me.”
He nods, smiling softly. “I did.”
My heart races. “Did you mean it?”
“Every word.” He takes my hand in his own. “If you’ll have me.”
“Longer, if I can,” I say. And I mean it.
“Longer?” Zayne’s smile widens. “I’ll see what I can arrange, Miss Hunter.”
His fingers move against my own to fiddle at the base of my ring finger. It’s a quiet, whispered promise of a future we could have together.
“You’ll know when my wish comes true.”
“You do that,” I tell him. “But remember, I can be impatient.”
“Not necessarily,” Zayne says with a quiet chuckle. “I merely see a confident, decisive young woman who knows what she wants.”
“Of course.” I press my lips to his knuckles. “Because you’re my solid ground.”
Zayne looks briefly startled, but then his eyes soften. “Just as you’re mine,” he whispers. “You always have been. A constant I can trust, no matter what.”
“I am?”
Zayne shakes his head. “Is it really so hard to believe?” He plays with my fingers again. “After a long shift at the hospital, or a quiet night at home, or a day out at the park, the beach, the mountains … no matter where, or when, I always long for your presence; to hear your voice, and your laughter. I want to continue experiencing life by your side.”
He coughs self-consciously, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Forgive me for being greedy.”
Something squeezes in my chest. “I won’t,” I whisper. “Because I want that too. All of it.”
Zayne smiles. “Alright.”
I reach up and cup the side of his face. He nuzzles against my hand, closing his eyes; for a moment, my giant snowball turns into a giant cat. My heart aches with adoration.
“How long before the coffee goes cold?” I ask.
“We have time. I just made it.” His gaze meets mine again, and a smirk tugs at the corner of Zayne’s mouth. “I can always brew some more if we … become otherwise occupied.”
“Good,” I say. “Get back here.”
Laughing, Zayne pushes himself up. “I’m already there, darling.”
Wrapping my arms around Zayne, I smile, pulling him down for a kiss. We tumble back onto the bed, entangling ourselves in golden sheets, every touch gentle, languid, tinged with an aching sweetness …
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Zayne ends up having to brew a new batch of coffee.
And as I admire his bare ass disappearing out the bedroom door, I’m not sorry in the slightest.