Zachary David Productions (6 page)

“Yeah, if you know Priscilla Keebler then you’ve no doubt witnessed what I like to call some pretty wild diva dips.”

The wine bottle slipped from his fingers and landed on the floor. It made a sickening sound as it rolled across the slate kitchen tiles.

He sat frozen—the woman with large brown eyes and blonde hair haunting him.

“Zach?”

Priscilla had needed his help at one time and he’d failed her. He’d led her into the garden and then he’d let her flounder.

“Zach?”

Cammie squatted near his legs. She reached a hand up to his cheek and whispered his name. He’d scared her now, but he couldn’t bring himself around. Just the sound of her name was enough to cripple him. She’d been the one for him and he thought he’d been the one for her, but there had been something she loved even more.

“She’s your best friend.”

“We used to be best friends.”

Of course, she used to talk about someone named Cammie nonstop. He remembered feeling a tad jealous.

Cammie stood and sat in a chair. “Now not so much.”

“What?”

“We’re not really close anymore. I don’t know what she’s going through, but it’s dark.”

He wouldn’t listen to anymore. Priscilla had made her decision and it didn’t include him. The bell rang loudly, alerting that someone was at the door, but the only thing he was capable of seeing at the moment was a pair of ghostly brown eyes. That image took over his vision…his mind…his life.

“Should I get that?”

He couldn’t process anything but his memories of that day: the vomit and foam around her mouth, the limp state of her body, the empty vile on the floor near her lifeless body. He’d tried to help her, but they stood outside of rehab arguing because she refused to go in.

“Zach.” Cammie’s hand in his pulled him from the past. “Your cousin is here.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder and he looked up in time to catch Sawyer entering the room.

At six and a half feet, Sawyer loomed large in a cowboy hat and denim upon denim.

With the thought of how he’d failed Priscilla temporarily stowed, Zach stood and met him in the middle. “Sawyer, I see there’s no end to your supply of denim shirts.”

They hugged, man style, and Sawyer replied, “We can’t all be as trendy as you.”

“You’ve met Cammie?”

He nodded in her direction. “Yeah, I
definitely
met Cammie.”

Zach frowned, “What brings you by?”

“Driving back from Georgia. Damn truck skid into the cement divider on I-10. Cop said it was black ice.”

“Holy shit. And you’re okay?”

“My body’s fine but my nerves are a little zapped.” He fluttered his fingers in the air to demonstrate.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

“I could.”

Zach knew his cousin well and pulled two glasses from the cabinet along with the whiskey decanter. “How about your truck?”

“Believe it or not there’s barely a scratch.”

Zach nodded, “Make yourself at home.”

Cammie relieved Sawyer of his duffle bag. “I’ll place this in the bedroom at the top of the stairs.”

“Thanks.”

Zach loved his cousin and to be fair Sawyer was one of the nicest guys he’d ever known, but an ember burned in his gut as his eyes followed Cammie from the room.

“She’ll do.”

“Yeah, she will.” Given his Texas twang and his rough and tumble good looks, women flocked to Sawyer. Zach had seen him in action on more than one occasion and he felt it necessary to lay the foundation explicitly for Sawyer.

“She’s off limits.”

Sawyer’s deep chuckle had Zach seeing red. “Simmer down now. I’m sure a girl like her wouldn’t mind a little ogling and a lot of pleasure.”

“She’s not one of the actresses and I mean it…she’s off limits.”

“What’s she do then?”

“She manages the property for Gabe.”

“Does she now?” His brow arched and his eyes searched for her return. “Do tell me why she’s off limits, dear cousin.”

“She’s good help and I don’t want to lose her.”

“It sounds to me like you’ve gone and gotten yourself worked up over the little lady.”

“I’m not worked up. I just feel the need to tell you she’s innocent.”

“She didn’t look so innocent from where I was standing.”

“Off limits.”

Sawyer threw his hands in the air. “Fine, but have her put some clothes on. Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

They both nodded, each knowing the pain the other was going through.

Zach finished off his drink, wiping his sleeve across his lips. “I’ve got to go wrap the pipes.”

“I’ll give you a hand.

As the house was large, Zach was grateful for the help, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be keeping both eyes firmly planted on Sawyer.

A
loud sound
woke Cammie and she shivered despite being covered by a comforter.

Freezing rain danced against the windows and the wind howled through the eaves, spooky in the dark of night. She reached over to switch on the bedside lamp, but the bulb was out. Her eyes followed the path across the room to where she knew a digital clock sat on a shelf, but the glowing blue display didn’t offer its greeting.

She placed her feet on the cold floor and carried the bedspread with her to the window. The yard was dark but she could make out the ice accumulation on the banister of the balcony, calculating it was at least two inches thick.

The cold seeped into her bones and she wrapped the comforter tighter around her body. Walking through the dark house, she stumbled right into the arms of Sawyer.

“Easy, are you okay?”

She nodded. His warm embrace was a welcome against the cold.

“I think a limb cut our electric. This drafty old house won’t retain heat for very long.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna get a fire started in the living room.” He sat on the plush couch and pulled on his boots. “I’ve gotta go out back and get some firewood.”

“Can I help?”

“You can get the door.”

Twenty minutes later they had a fire roaring in the hearth and were sipping mugs of cocoa. Sawyer attempted to wrap an afghan around his large shoulders but the blanket was too small. Cammie giggled and opened her arm to offer him part of her warm cocoon. Together they huddled in front of the crackling fire.

Once she’d finished her cocoa, Cammie didn’t know what to do with her hands. Sawyer must have felt the same because beneath the comforter he wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting on the curve of her waist. The pressure of his touch and warmth of his body covered Cammie in a tight blanket of security that she’d never known, but had longed for. Turning so that they were almost nose-to-nose, he closed the gap. His lips crashed down onto hers, depositing a soft heat that sped up the pumping of her blood.

A light flashed that made Cammie jump. Standing beneath an archway, Zach stood, pinning them with light from the flashlight in his hand.

“The power goes out and you break the fucking rules?”

Sawyer stood. “Sorry, man.”

“Fuck you, Sawyer.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you like her. It just happened, but I wasn’t going to let it go any further.”

He likes me?

“Oh really? Given our history, you’ll understand why I don’t believe you.”

Their history?

“Hey, I loved Priscilla. You took her away from me.”

Priscilla? Priscilla Keebler?

“So that’s what this is about…you’re getting me back for that?”

“You destroyed her!” Sawyer yelled.

Zach’s hand sailed through the air, “I tried to help her, but she wouldn’t let me. And I didn’t destroy her…you can thank Gage for that.”

What the hell was going on? Did he mean Pricilla’s Gage?

Sawyer stepped too far into Zach’s space. “You were never good for her.”

Sawyer threw a punch that landed on Zach’s jaw. Zach threw one back.

Cammie stepped between them using a wide legged stance for leverage. “Stop!” To keep them apart, she pushed a hand against each of their chests. Zach’s eyes met hers and he jerked away from her pressing palm.

“You’re talking about Priscilla Keebler aren’t you? I saw how you got all weird when I mentioned her earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?” Cammie questioned.

Sawyer retreated to the couch while Zach paced the room, rubbing his finger aggressively across his lip.

“He didn’t tell you because he’s responsible for getting her addicted to cocaine. Isn’t that right, Zach?” Sawyer questioned.

Zach lunged at Sawyer and they ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.

At the wet bar, Cammie reached for the soda siphon bottle. Aiming the bottle at the men, she pressed the trigger, showering them in a soda bath.

As they broke apart, expletives thundered around the room.

“Fuck off Sawyer.” Zach walked from the room.

With her hands on her hips, Cammie eyed Sawyer suspiciously. He touched his busted lip and then reached his hand out to her.

“Will you give me a hand?”

She started to, but then she pulled back.

“What?” Sawyer spat.

“Priscilla Keebler was my best friend. I saw her for the first time in a long time last week and she didn’t look well. If you ever cared for her, tell me what’s going on.”

She helped him up and he groaned as he dropped onto the couch. Fingering his busted lip he said, “Priscilla and I were together when Zach slept with her. There was a party. There always used to be parties. Priscilla got a hold of some of the stuff that was always passed around.” He looked distant and sad. “You can get the rest of the story from Zach.”

Sawyer stood, wincing, and then walked toward the kitchen.

***

C
ammie picked
her blanket up off of the floor, wrapped it around her body as if it were a cape, and marched through the cold house in search of Zach.

She found him sitting at the desk in his bedroom, typing on his laptop, the glow from the screen the only light in the house. She thought it pointless to mention the kiss, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. It’s not like she and Zach were exclusively together.

“Priscilla Keebler was my best friend. At one point, she was the only one I could speak to about my home situation. I’d like you to tell me what happened.”

“Yeah, well I’d like for you to keep yourself covered and your lips away from Sawyer, but people don’t always get what they want.”

“That’s mature.”

He stopped doing whatever had his attention on the computer and turned toward her.

“Fine. Priscilla made a few films with Sawyer. During filming and editing, she and I grew close, and then we started fucking, off camera. I didn’t know Sawyer liked her and she didn’t express anything to me so I thought theirs was a purely professional relationship.”

“Wait…Sawyer was making porn?”

“He did for a while. When he found out about my relationship with Priscilla, he left. She and I were together for five months. At the time, I was partying pretty hard and used a little recreational cocaine.” He sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. “She started using and it got out of hand. Sawyer’s right, I destroyed her.” He swallowed hard. “I introduced her to it…it was my fault she got hooked. I tried to help her…tried to force her to go through rehab, but in the end I failed.”

His elbows hit the desk and he placed his head in his hands.

Seeing him so broken was hard. She’d only ever seen him happy, and she remembered he smiled a lot—a perfect white and straight smile that made her chest flutter.

“Hey.” She threw off her blanket and gathered his hands in hers, pulling him toward the bed. She slid in under the covers and pulled him with her. Covering them sufficiently she wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t say or do anything, but he accepted her embrace.

After a while his breathing evened out.

“You didn’t introduce Priscilla to cocaine.” She needed him to understand what she was about to tell him.

“What?”

“Her brother struggled with addiction. When we were fourteen, Priscilla got hold of some stuff. She wanted me to do it with her. When I wouldn’t she found a new set of friends. She did a few rehabs and when she’d get clean we’d be friends again for a while, but she always found her way back into that numb abyss.”

She loosened her hold a little so that he could turn and look into her eyes. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“Make love to me.”

“You want me to?” Did he have to ask?

“Yes, Zach.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because I want you. All the way, I want you.”

“You want it to be me, or will anyone do?”

That really wasn’t a fair comment, but she knew he was hurting so she let it slide. She’d use her body to make him understand how much it had to be him.

“No, it has to be you. I want you.”

He slid from the covers and walked toward the door. She felt tears sting her eyes at his rejection, but then he shut the door and engaged the latch. To her, locking a door meant private things would happen…seductive things…intimate things.

He climbed back into position and then his lips pressed into hers, massaging her open. His tongue slipped in and he explored her, consuming her from the inside out. She tried to reciprocate, but his obsession was impossible to match. He broke the kiss and she gulped for the fresh air that she’d been gladly deprived.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment you stood in my doorway, announcing you’d come to clean.”

“I couldn’t tell. I didn’t even think you were attracted to me.”

His head rested between her breasts. “You’re crazy.” His hand slid across her skin, warming. Cupping her breast he kissed her again. This time slow, methodical. Taking it slow, he was going to mark every inch of her. He squeezed her breast in his hand, pinching the hardened nipple.

He explored her left side by slipping under her tight shirt, skin on skin, his hands moved in a sensual motion that reminded her of a fluid, hypnotic melody. He took off her shirt and cupped her in his hands. Her nipples puckered hard and Zach rubbed his cheeks over the hardened pebbles. Warmth flooded her between the legs.

She wanted to keep still but couldn’t and instead her neck bowed and a deep moan escaped her throat. His moist lips traced the vein in her neck, sliding down and then across her collarbone before dipping between her breasts. He sucked lightly at the skin there and then his mouth closed around her puckered nipple.

The pressure sent a shooting sensation through her body that terminated between her thighs and she pressed her knees together, needing him deep inside her.

She pressed her palm against him, hugging his length. She knew he would be hard, had seen evidence of it when he’d taken the photos, but nothing could have prepared her for what she felt when she gripped him. In his jeans he was hard like marble and his erection grew long and coursed down his thigh.

When she whimpered he stopped his own exploration to meet her eyes.

“Are you nervous?”

Was she?
“Yes, but I trust you.”

She squeezed him further and he lengthened at her touch. Hard like stone, so long and thick she wondered about her ability to take him.

“How will you get inside of me?”

He talked while he shimmied down her body and set about removing her underwear. “When you climax your muscles relax and I’ll be able to slip inside. It’s the first part in a five-part plan.”

“Five-part plan?”

He was kissing her stomach. “I eat you, you come, your muscles relax, I slip inside, you climax again.”

A wash of heat flooded her body at the anticipation of him acting out his five-part plan.

He returned to his earlier task of placing feather kisses along her stomach, and then he slid her body so that her upper back and head were off the pillow, on the bed. He parted her legs and she had to work hard to stifle a squeal.

“How does the plan sound to you?”

“Perfect. I want all that. I’m going to want all that more than once.”

He giggled. “I’m glad because so do I. But first, you’ve got to agree on one thing.”

“What?” She’d agree to anything, including naming her firstborn child after him—girl or boy.

“I don’t want you on camera. Ever.”

Her head popped up from the bed. “What?”

“Tell me you understand.”

“But why?”

“Once I take your virginity you’re mine and I get very possessive about what’s mine.”

She watched him wash her abdomen in kisses.

His eyes connected with hers. “Trust me Cammie, I’ll see that you’re taken care of and in the process I’ll make your wildest fantasies come true.”

“I trust you. I agree.”

With her little submission, he removed her boy shorts in a flash and then his fingers parted her flesh and his warm lips kissed the aroused flesh liked he’d kissed her lips—the second time.

With a slow and sensual massage he worked her into a state of greed. She was in need and her hands slid down, her fingers searching, but he clasped her wrists together in one hand and placed them above her head, all while working her poor, needy flesh.

“Zach, please.”

His massaging lips slowed and the pressure lessened.

“Zach, please. I need—”

“I know what you need, babe. I’ll give it to you when I’m ready, but right now I’m busy enjoying the taste of you.”

Oh. My. God. The things he did to her body had her questioning her health. She felt her pulse in the knot of muscle between her legs. Her head was hazy and she drifted between a plain of consciousness and oblivion, lost in clouds of whispering pleasure.

When finally he took her engorged clit between his lips her hips arced off the bed. Her knees squeezed his head like a coconut and she rode the top of wave after blissful wave.

Releasing her, he lapped at her juices, moaning as if he were enjoying chocolate silk pie.