Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

40. Special Delivery

40

Special Delivery

Unfortunately, the thought of Zack as a firefighter lingered in my brain over the next few days. It slipped out amid Egyptian cotton dreams. Dream Zack marched into my bedroom wearing nothing but those heavy-duty pants and suspenders. He often carried a shovel or pushed a dolly with boxes stacked on top of it.

Tonight, he strode into my dreams again. I sat up in my silky negligee and asked, “Why are you here?”

He glanced at the lit candles on my nightstand. “I take fire safety very seriously. Come with me.”

I started to get out of bed, but he grabbed the sheets and dragged me closer, then lifted me much like he had on New Year’s Eve.

“I can walk.” I wiggled my hips and braced myself on his thick lower back muscles.

He smacked my ass. The sting sent shockwaves down to my toes. “It’s too hot in here,” he boomed. He held my knees against his chest and kneaded my ass.

I stopped struggling and started melting. The stress of the week faded away as he worked my underwear off, then slipped his fingers inside me.

Wet. Hot.

I moaned and clenched around him. The fire was inside me. He kept stoking it.

“Zack, please.”

He laid me out on the counter, then rutted against me, raw power and sexuality.

I clutched his cropped hair and panted. “Oh, Zack, oh—”

Ding !

Inevitably, a bell, a notification, or my stupid alarm would wrench me back to reality. I silenced notifications and plopped onto my pillow.

Fucking hell, I was sweating. How many times would I need to change the sheets this week?

I scrolled for more jobs on my laptop at the kitchen counter while I had some avocado toast and fruit. It was supposed to be brain food. Maybe if I ate enough of it I’d purge my mind of Zack-related fantasies. But this was the counter he laid me out on in one of them…

Mm. This wasn't helping.

I abandoned my laptop and queued a workout video on the TV. I had to keep my blood circulating, burn off this energy.

For the last few days, I’d been dancing around Zack. He’d come up to me in the lunchroom and ask how I’d been, but we didn’t sit together. We just loomed, brimming with sexual tension. He’d look over a lot.

I was alone. Normally, that didn’t bother me. I had a million parasocial relationships, but they weren’t as fulfilling as playful banter with Zack. I couldn’t cuddle up to a phone and feel the heat and protectiveness radiating off it. Today, it didn’t even have a good morning text. Not that I expected one. Unless—

My ringtone blared, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Who the hell would call instead of texting?

My heart jumped when I saw the contact.

I braced myself and swiped to answer. “Hi, Zack.”

“Hey.” He sounded a little off.

“Are you okay?” Had he finally told his family about my side gig?

“I’m fine. I, um, I have your shoes.”

“My shoes?” I hadn’t ordered anything.

“The Zeezy’s. The guy just gave them to me to give to you. Gave me a lot of rules too.”

I furrowed my brow. “Okay, like what?”

“You can’t wear them outside, the floors have to be clean, and he said they can’t leave my sight.”

“What?” Did that warehouse guy seriously need Zack to babysit me and a pair of shoes?

“I trust you’ll take good care of them, but I don’t want to leave them in my car in case someone sees the box and tries to break in,” he said. “Do you mind if I bring them over?”

“Now?”

“Well, I’m not too far,” he said.

What the hell? I was sweaty.

I put my palm to my forehead and sighed. “Okay, you can come up. But you can’t stay.”

His tone got defensive. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Of course he wasn’t. I’d have to be insane to try to be with him after he rejected me. Although, then he kinda apologized. So where were we?

I went to the bathroom to wipe myself down with a soaped-up washcloth. It would have to do. A ‘whore’s bath’ seemed appropriate, considering what he probably thought of me.

He knocked twice. Might as well have rapped on my rib cage.

I cracked open the door and shielded myself with it. “Hello,” I said.

“Hey, Nic.” He tugged at his work uniform. Was this his lunch break? If so, this was the second time he used one to help me out. Damn his generosity.

He held out the shoe box and frowned. “Do you have company?”

“No. I’m working out.” I snatched the box and propped it on my hip. “Just because I’m a ‘sex worker’ doesn’t mean I’m always ready to ‘receive’ somebody.”

That sounded dirty, but it applied either way, so I steeled myself against his gaze.

“I didn’t mean…” He eyed my sports bra and flattering yoga pants. His pupils dilated. He shook his head and gestured to the TV inside. “I heard voices and music. This song is…I like it.”

“Yeah? I guess it’s upbeat. The playlists all start to sound the same to me.” Were we small-talking? I shifted my weight. “You don’t play any pop music with your band, do you?”

He chuckled and scratched his neck. “Not yet. It takes a while to learn anything new.”

“Right.” I leaned on the doorway and waited for him to turn away.

Silence swelled between us. Did he have something else to say?

He rubbed his ear. “I can stick around to help you make the video. Then, I could take the shoes back for you.”

“And we have to do it now?”

Zack shrugged. “He wants them back ASAP.”

God, these Zeezy’s guys sure loved their shoes. “I still have to shower,” I said.

He gestured to my outfit. “You look great. You could film like that.”

“I don’t have anything set up. I’m a mess.” I floundered.

“I’ll help. Whatever you need,” he offered.

That was a dangerous offer. Of course, I couldn't take him up on it.

This video wasn’t that important. I could scrap it. Or look less fabulous.

But this was supposed to be my big moment. Sure, my sheet-dress video had gotten some good engagement, including some hilarious responses where people made their own sheet dresses, but I wanted to make a video with the shoes that started this whole mess.

I furrowed my brow. It would be rude to send Zack to the car to wait until I was done. He’d never treated me badly. He just had his head up his ass about my side gig. Still, it was nice of him to bring the shoes here and vouch for me.

I wrestled with my indecision. “Are you done with your shift or are you on break?”

He rubbed his ear on his shoulder. “Lunch hour. But I can eat in the car if you'd rather have your space.”

I sighed and gestured for him to come in. “Stop with the self-sacrificing crap. You can eat here. Hell, make yourself a snack.”

“Thanks.” He followed me into the kitchen and pulled a paper bag from his pocket.

Of course he carried his tuna sandwiches with him. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling.

“What?” He almost smiled too.

“Nothing. I need to…” Get out before I did something stupid like try to reenact my sex dream with him. I gestured to the bathroom and hurried away.

A cold shower doused the fire in my veins. I shivered and wrapped myself in a towel. Part of me wanted to peek out of the partially open bathroom door and check on Zack. What was he doing? Was he thinking of me?

I checked my phone for a distraction.

Oh. I had a message from the bedding company I used in my sheet dress video.

We love your creativity! Any chance we could commission you to make more fashions with our products for an awards season marketing campaign? We’d like to use this video too. Message us for more details.

“Oh my god. Oh my god .” I shrieked.

Zack rushed to a stop outside the bathroom door, the momentum knocking it open another few inches to let out the steam. “What? Are you okay?”

I fully opened the door and broke into a watery smile. “A brand wants to hire me.”

I did it. I was on brand for somebody.