Sweet Revenge (5 page)

No more games. Let the reality begin.

Ty’s chance to make things right. After all these years, and this fucking horrendous night, it had finally arrived, though not in the way he’d expected. Something so much better.
Don’t blow it
. Though he still needed to know why.

Wine. They both needed some. Now.

He set the bottle on the kitchen island. “Glasses. Where do you keep them?”

Zoe drifted past him, keeping her distance. “Oh, I’m on it.”

Completely unconvinced. He had a lot of work ahead. First, open the freaking bottle.

When she set two flutes in front of him, he poured and handed her one.

She leaned on the counter, studying the contents of her glass. “So we have a lot to talk about.” Her gaze flicked up to him.

He gulped half his wine and poured more. “Yeah. I should be thanking you instead of trying to make you feel bad. If it weren’t for you, I’d never have committed to dropping all those pounds.”

“I still can’t believe it’s you.” She sipped delicately.

“Why?”

“The Tyson I knew was so....” She blew out a breath. “Nice.”

“I tried to keep things on a professional level.” Didn’t quite work out.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.”

“Might as well be honest, settle this once and for all. Did you set me up that night?”

She grew pensive. “I never teased you in school.”

“It’s not what I asked.” An omission that counted as heavily against her.

“We were in freaking high school. Stupid kids.” She dropped her gaze to her glass. “No, I was the stupid one. I was with the cool kids, and for some reason, I desperately wanted to stay there.”

“Enough to toss me under the school bus.” And let it back over him a few times.

She shook her head, wincing as she braced her hands against the counter. “I drank too much in those days, trying to keep up with everyone else.”

He resisted the urge to massage the tension from her hunched shoulders. “The only reason you let me kiss you at the party? You do remember, don’t you, Golden Girl?”

“Tarnished gold, huh? Of course I remember. You were the only one who made me feel human. I wanted you to kiss me. I liked you. More than I wanted to admit to myself.”

His exhale released more than a breath—the tensions and worry he’d held in flowed out along with it. He let it sink in: she’d wanted to kiss him. The way she looked at him now, she wanted him to kiss her again.
Not yet
. “But couldn’t admit it when your jock boyfriend found us? His Golden Girl in the arms of a loser?” To him, she’d seemed to fit in perfectly with the cool crowd, a Golden Girl in all the right ways.

She glanced down. When she looked up at him again, sadness filled her face. “I was the most pathetic sort of loser, not you. Too afraid to stand up for you, or for what I really wanted.”

“Yeah, it killed me when you didn’t.” At least she’d rearranged her priorities. Had an aha moment struck her, too?

“If you only knew. I was hoping you’d rescue me from those narrow-minded, self-centered assholes.”

“And I shouldn’t have stayed angry with you for so long, or blamed you for things that were my own fault. You made me take responsibility for myself. Fix what was wrong. Thank you.” He raised his glass.

“Don’t bullshit me. You carried hatred around for years, and put my name on it. Don’t pretend to let it go so easily.”

How could he make her see? “I was wrong to hold onto bad feelings about you, but in a way, it helped me gear my entire life toward helping people feel good about themselves.”

“I get it, believe me. I gave up my career—a very promising one, or so everyone said—to help others find their center of peace. Like I did. It took me a little longer than you, but you always were smarter than me.”

So that was why she’d walked away from the rising star gig. “What made you give up your reporter career?”

“Not just my job. I changed my entire life.” She focused on the glass.

“Right, weren’t you engaged to C.J. Howell?” An asshole, but women draped themselves on him.

“My last mistake. I didn’t see the empty world I’d created until the day I lost everything. My parents died in a car crash. I broke off my engagement. I quit my job. The worst time of my life. But sometimes you have to lose everything to find what you really need.”

A truth he’d learned the hard way as well. “Why did you break up with C.J.?”

She winced. “He began to flash more money around than he could possibly have earned. I had no proof he’d embezzled, but it freaked me out. I confronted him, and instead of making him humble, it turned into a breaking point for us.”

“He wanted you to overlook the tiny flaw?”

“I couldn’t. And it brought into focus how screwed up my life had become. And for what? To make more money? Have a bigger house? No thank you.”

Explained her reaction to his home. “What do you want, then?”

She met his gaze. “Truth. Honesty. Real love.” Sarcasm made her voice bitter.

“Don’t make it sound so impossible.”

“I’m starting to think it is,” she said softly.

“I’m starting to believe it’s not.” Finally. He’d found it with her, or at least the beginnings of it, and wouldn’t give up now.

Her lips twitched in a failed attempt to smile. “We never seem to be on the same page.”

“What do you bet we can close that gap?” He rounded the kitchen island.

“So you can exact more revenge? Wait, you’ve already fired me, so there’s nothing more you can do to me.”

“I’m asking you to stay.”

She cradled the glass to her chest. “Do you believe things happen for a reason?”

Anger had driven him for so long, he hadn’t thought much about it. “I guess so.”

“Well, I believe. Once I finally opened my eyes, I didn’t like what I saw. Not the world I’d created—a meaningless life filled with shallow people. My parents were good people who wanted better for me. I owed it to them to want better for myself. So I decided to do the classic ‘reinventing myself.’ Like you.”

“You did a commendable job.” He liked what he saw. A lot.

A grin, crooked but genuine, appeared. “My point is, sometimes bad things happen for a purpose. I had to wade through a boatload of pain to accept it, but I do.”

“That’s how it was for me.” If it wasn’t for Zoe, he’d never have seen it.

“So, as much as I love the atmosphere you’ve created in your fitness centers, I’ve been toying with the idea of opening my own yoga studio.”

“I’d rather you toyed with me.” He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger.

Zoe tilted her head against his hand. “Bad idea.”

“It was very good earlier.” He eased closer. “Very, very good.”

“Oh, I know.” The warmth of her gaze seeped into him. Gave him hope.

He drew her closer but held her less tightly than before. If she wanted this, too, she'd meet him halfway. “So don’t give up on us yet. I ruined what could have been the best night of my life. Let me make it up to you.”

“If you’ll let me make it up to you.” She stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his.

Sensations flooded through him, so unbelievably good. “Where’s your bedroom?” No more wham bam. He wanted to take his time. Claim every inch of her as his.

“Upstairs.” She clasped his hand and led him across the room and up the open metal and wood staircase.

Only one room at the top of the stairs. He couldn’t wait another second to hold her, and wound his arms around her waist. He cupped her breast and murmured in her ear, “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of being with you like this?”

Her breath caught, and she arched her neck as he nibbled his way to her shoulder. “Every time you watched me at the studio, I could almost feel you touching me.”

Suddenly rock hard, he tightened his embrace. “I couldn’t stop. I wanted to feel you moving under me like that.”

She whirled away and grasped his hands, walking backward and guiding him to the bed, sexy and shy at the same time. “I want that too.”

He closed the distance between them, braced an arm behind her and pressed her against the bed. With slow, deliberate movements, he peeled away her T-shirt and yoga pants. She helped him remove his black T-shirt and worn jeans. He hadn’t bothered with boxers. The way she fondled his thighs and butt, she seemed to appreciate the oversight.

He caressed away her panties, the last item of clothing between them. It would be so easy to just fuck her. He wanted so badly to be inside her.

One fast roll and he’d flipped their positions. It earned him a sexy smile.

She arched over him. “Does this mean I can do whatever I want with you?”

Her nipples grazing his drove him crazy. “Please do.”

When she sat up again, the loss of contact made him yearn for skin-on-skin. To crush her to him. Pump his hips to fill her.

Her hands glided over his chest down to his waist. “Amazing.”

He forced himself to take it slow, inching his touch up her legs. Even when she encased his cock in her hand and dragged it up, he somehow maintained self-control.

Heat shone in her eyes as she lowered to take him in her mouth. An explosion of sensations—her warm, soft mouth enveloping his hardness, her silken hair against his skin—made him grasp the sheets. Slowly, almost uncertainly, she moved, watching him as if gauging his reactions. Learning what he liked.

He liked it all. When she teased the tip with her tongue. When she plunged to the base and took him in fully. The way she sucked until the skin along his steely hardness felt ready to burst. But it was so good, he held out. Wanted to hold onto this intensity.

When he finally climaxed, the release drew moans of pleasure from him. Every muscle lax with bliss, he heaved a heavy laugh. “
That
was amazing.”

She settled onto his chest with a sigh. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He kissed her head. “I hope not.”

With one fluid motion, she sat up and propped his cock against her center, then frowned when it flopped over.

She needed relief, and he’d give it to her. He curled up to catch a sweet gumdrop of a nipple between his lips. Her soft moans sounded needy, so he laid down again and circled his thumb around her clit. Closing her eyes, she ground against it in a slow swirl of her hips. He loved the way she tossed her head back, her hair swishing around her shoulders. He wanted her to feel the same intense pleasure he had, so slipped his fingers inside her slick warmth. Her breath caught, and her eyes snapped open and locked on his. His free hand caressed her all over, and a thrill built inside him as he felt her tension in every muscle. So graceful, even when she rocked harder.

Murmured encouragements slipped out. “Oh yes, Zoe. That’s it, come for me.”

Her body responded, her breaths faster, shallower, small moans giving away her need. Grabbing his roaming hand, she pressed it to her breast. So perfectly sized for his grasp. A flick of his thumb across her nipple, and she shuddered in a long thrust that seemed to suspend her there, breathless until a groan escaped, then she collapsed against him.

He cradled her, smoothing the hair from her cheek so he could see her face. So beautiful. Inside and out.

They stayed that way a long time, just holding each other.

She settled at his side and traced her finger along his ribs. “Explain one thing.”

“Anything.”

“What’s significant about the number sixteen anyway?”

“I was sixteen,” he said, pulling her closer against him, “when you broke my heart.”

“I’m so, so sorry.” She cupped his cheek.

A simple gesture, but like earlier, her touch had a healing effect. More hard layers of himself fell away, the hurt and anger he’d carried around for too long. Why had he focused it all on her? Maybe so it could lead him here?

He was beginning to believe it. “Like you said, things happen for a reason. We were too young then. And you might have let me get away with overeating. Then I wouldn’t have channeled all my frustration into fitness, flipped my mindset to wellness instead of losing myself in misery and food.”

“I wish I’d known then what I know now.” Searching his eyes, she stroked his cheek. “I can’t believe I found you again.”

“You really didn’t know it was me?”

“Part of me hoped it was. For so long, I’ve wanted to apologize for that night.”

“No more apologies. Let’s just move forward.” He eased back to study her. “Wait, why only part had hoped?”

“The way you reacted to me, I was afraid you’d become heartless, that all your ads about accepting people was a business strategy, not your personal belief.”

“Not heartless, just at war with myself. I wanted to talk to you, but I was afraid, too.”

“I’m going to send Madame Eve a thank you card. If it weren’t for her, we might never have crossed that divide.”

He chuckled. “I’ll sign it, too. But from now on, no more divides. No distance, no letting anything get in the way. We need to say exactly what’s on our minds.”

“No more misunderstandings.” Her smile had a shy quality that made her more adorable. “And speaking of food….”

He finished for her. “We never had dinner.”

“Not a bite.”

“Not of the takeout, anyway.” He nipped her shoulder. “Mm, this is much tastier.”

She nuzzled into him. “How do I know it’s not a trick? That you’re not still hungry for revenge and haven’t poisoned my portion?”

“You opened my eyes. I only blame myself for what happened. There’s only one kind of revenge I want now.”

She clambered out of his grasp. “Seriously? I was kidding.”

“But it’s the best kind—for both of us.” He reached for her, drew her close.

She relaxed into his embrace but fixed him with a disbelieving look. “There’s no good sort.”

“Yes there is. Like the old saying goes, living well’s the best revenge. Making every day count.” For every night he was lucky enough to spend with her, he’d think of ways to make it good for both of them, in so many ways.

She relaxed against him and linked her arms around his neck. “That would be so sweet.”

He touched his lips to hers and closed his eyes against the wave of bliss washing over him. Oh yes, the sweetest revenge of all.