The connecting door to Zach's room opens, and he steps through with a sated look on his face. "Ready to go down to breakfast?"
He's wearing that well satisfied look because an hour ago, Zach had woken me up, as he so often does, with his tongue deep inside my pussy and me on the verge of an orgasm. Just as I was getting ready to come, Zach pulled away, flipped me onto my stomach, pulled at my hips to hike my ass in the air, and plunged deep inside of me. I immediately came, muffling my cries in my pillow, and Zach pounded away at my body while he let out a stream of curses and moans.
And then he did something that shocked the hell out of me and made me orgasm again violently. He pulled out just as he started to climax, shooting his warm seed all over my butt and lower back. I felt three spurts hit me while he groaned loudly, then he was dragging his fingers through the slickness... down my back and right down in between my ass cheeks. His finger grazed over my anus and rubbed the moisture all around, and then he gently inserted his finger inside, setting off another sparkling storm within me. He pumped his finger in and out of my ass a few times while I shuddered and cried in wicked release, finally begging him to stop before I passed out.
He chuckled in good nature, removed his finger, and leaned over to press a kiss between my shoulder blades. Then he pulled me back into his arms, and we laid on the bed in silence while our skin soaked up the sticky mess he had made all over me.
Soon, though, he slapped my ass playfully and pushed me out of his bed, telling me to take a shower so we could meet Randall for breakfast. And thus is the reason for my worry.
Facing Randall.
Zach told me on the way home last night what transpired with Clint and Cara. About how they propositioned him for group sex, promising coke and Ecstasy. I had to explain what that was to Zach. He curled his lip up in disgust, and then cursed them both for a solid five minutes.
Worst of all was when he told me that Cara threatened to tell Randall about us, but Zach assured me she wouldn't. He had threatened her the same, to tell Randall about their own dirty secrets, that they are sexually intimate with each other, a thought which gives me the willies. It's just icky!
"I'm not going down," I tell him adamantly. "Cara probably called him this morning. In fact, he'll probably be able to tell by looking at my guilty face."
Zach walks over to me and pulls me into his arms. Cupping the back of my head, he cradles me against his chest and whispers a kiss over the top of my head. This kind and gentle Zach is someone that causes my heart to nearly explode with feeling, and I know that every time he touches me this way, my heart's fate is being sealed forever.
"Would it be so bad if he knows?" Zach asks in a soothing tone while he strokes my back.
Pulling back from him with wild eyes, I practically hiss at him. "Yes, it would be bad. Terrible. The worst. You don't understand, Zach. He hired me to do this job. This is my professional career on the line. Randall has the power to ruin me and then what will I have? I'll have nothing."
"You'll have me," he says simply and for once, my heart doesn't flutter over his words.
So I sneer at him. "What exactly would I have, Zach? A man who knows how to fuck me senseless but plans on leaving to return to Brazil one day?"
"You could come with me," he says quietly, his eyes serious and intent.
I want to scoff at him because the idea is ridiculous. I've lived in a modern world my entire life. I've devoted a large portion of myself to becoming a scientist and developing a name for myself. I could never give that up to... to... what? Pick grub worms from rotted wood to go with the meat that Zach hunts for me?
But I don't say those things because right now, Zach's offer is serious. I also know if he thought about it a moment, he really didn't mean it. I mean... when he returns, he's returning to a tribal society that doesn't even practice monogamy. We wouldn't have our own happy little home, and we wouldn't make love for hours. No, he'd put me on my knees in the dirt and fuck me without any emotion because that is what he would become again when he returns. And that would destroy me.
Taking a deep breath, I turn away from him and walk to the small vanity table. I take a moment to put on my watch and earrings that are laying there. Sorrow courses through me as I realize... there is no future with Zach. There's only the here and now, for however long that may be.
"Moira... Randall wouldn't care if you and I were together," Zach says confidently.
Turning around, I look at Zach with disbelief. "You don't know that. You can't possibly know that."
He gives me a smile as he walks toward me. Reaching out, he tucks my hair behind my ear and looks at me thoughtfully. "I do know that because I've gotten to know Randall. He's a good man and more than anything, I truly believe he just wants me to be happy."
"And are you happy, Zach? Are you really happy here in a world that you want to run from?"
"I'm not running from it now, am I?" he says, his voice hard.
"Maybe not, but you're certainly vocal that you'll run from it one day. Your plans are still to return, right?"
Zach's lips turn downward into a frown, and his voice is sad. "Yes, I'm going back. It's where I belong."
Letting out a breath of acceptance, I place my hand on his chest. "I know. I know you don't belong here, even if I wish you did."
His eyebrows rise in surprise. "You want me to stay?"
I'm not prepared for this conversation because I'm afraid it will lead me to say something foolish, like Yes, I want you to stay. I'm falling in love with you, and I can't bear the thought of you leaving.
But I keep my lips sealed tight and tell him, "It doesn't matter what I want. Like Randall, I only want you to be happy too, and I'll support your need to return if that's where your joy lies."
Zach watches me intently, waiting for me to say something else. He looks disgruntled by what I just said, but I just stare back at him, reaching an impasse in truly laying out all of our feelings. Because let's face it... it's easier to express them with sex and desire rather than talk about what the heart truly wants.
Turning away from me, Zach heads toward my bedroom door that leads out into the hallway. "Let's go eat breakfast and then we can get packed up."
Yes, we need to get packed. Zach and I are going to go to North Carolina for the weekend to visit my sister, and I'm yearning to see her. She's someone I can talk to about all of this craziness with Zach and hopefully, she can give me some perspective.
I cut into the Belgian waffle on my plate and take a small bite. My stomach is still churning with apprehension, worried that at any moment Randall is going to call me out for seducing his godson.
But with every passing moment, Randall is nothing but his kind and jovial self. He and Zach keep up a running dialogue about Randall's plans to expand Cannon's Department Store globally. I can't tell if Zach is truly interested or if he's just humoring the old man, but whatever it is, I can tell that Zach has definitely developed a fondness for his godfather. He's totally at ease with him, and he even kids around, making sly jokes at Randall's expense, who always bursts into laughter at Zach's temerity.
"So, Moira... are you actually working on writing up your study on Zach to publish or will you wait until after he returns to Amazonia?"
I swallow my waffle and take a sip of orange juice. "I'm actually working on the paper as we go. It's a bit different than my other studies on the Indians I've observed who have transitioned back into modern society, so I'm finding this method works better."
"How so?" Randall asks with interest. Zach listens while he eats, but he's actually heard this before. We had talked about it the other day when we decided to have a lunch picnic in the park.
"Well, in my other studies, those Indians were indigenous and had never been in the modern world. Zach is a bit different. He was born here and has some strong memories that have helped to ease his transition. But the biggest difference is in the language barrier. Zach speaks English. The Indians I studied all spoke Portuguese, and
I had to work with an interpreter. Also, I didn't have one-on-one access to them the way I do with Zach. I was able to do some interviews with the interpreter and had them fill out some questionnaires, but I couldn't observe them. It was very sterile, and I had a lot of written data I had to analyze."
"So I imagine as you observe Zach, it's easier to write your findings in an organic manner," Randall observes astutely.
"Exactly," I tell him, and then because I'm suffering under massive guilt for entering into a sexual relationship with my study subject, I say, "And again, Randall, I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity. For trusting me with this project."
I notice Zach's eyes fly to me at that last statement and narrow over my choice of wording. I wince internally because while I know that Zach is far more than just a test subject in a project, I'm sure it didn't feel nice to hear me say that about him just now.
Zach watches me a moment and then a hard look filters in. My guilt increases. I open my mouth to try to sugarcoat what I just said, but Zach pushes his plate away and turns to Randall.
"Randall... you need to know that Moira and I are involved in a relationship. So while she's still helping me to adjust," and here he looks back over to me with a pointed look, "and she's certainly studying my ability to acclimate, we are a little bit more than just a scientist and a test subject."
I gasp that Zach would tell our secret in such a blatant fashion. My face flushes red with embarrassment, even as I totally feel that Zach was justified in calling me out on the scientist/test subject misnomer.
My head turns slowly toward Randall, and he's looking at Zach in surprise. "Oh, well... I see."
"Actually, you probably don't," Zach says in a soft voice. "But what you need to know is that I pursued Moira. I seduced her, and she fought me hard. She was so worried about breaching professional ethics that she wouldn't even entertain the notion of having a relationship with me."
Randall's head swivels to look at me briefly, and then back to Zach. A huge smile breaks out on his face. "Pursued her, did you? Wore her down?"
"Yes, sir. I wanted her and wasn't going to let up until she submitted," Zach says as he shoots me a devious grin, and only Zach and I truly know what he means by "submission."
"Randall... I'm so sorry," I tell him. "I totally breached your trust. I have no excuse."
Giving me an amused smile, Randall says, "Well, the way Zach tells it, you had no choice in the matter."
I stand from the table and place my fingertips on the edge to help balance myself because I feel I might be on the edge of a panic attack. "But see... I did. I did have a choice, and I chose to give in to my feelings for Zach. It was wrong, and I have no business even staying here another moment. You can get someone else to take over for me, and I'll share all of my notes so far. There are plenty of qualified people that can continue to help Zach."
Turning from the table, I leave the dining room even as Zach calls out to me, "Moira... wait."
I can hear the scraping of his chair against the polished hardwood floor and I speed up my pace, reaching the staircase and jogging up it. I expect Zach to be in hot pursuit, and I need to reach my room to lock both doors before he shows up.
Once I'm secured inside, I look around almost blindly, trying to figure out what to do. It was the right thing to do... to resign. I can't, in good conscience, continue on and, frankly, I should have quit the very first time that Zach fucked me.
But I was selfish.
So selfish.
I didn't want to give Zach up. Not for the scientific opportunity, but I didn't want to give him up because I selfishly wanted him and wanted as much time with him as possible. And to do that, I had to prey on Randall's trust in my abilities and his generosity.
A soft knock sounds on the door, and I hear Randall's voice filter through softly. "Moira... I'd like to talk to you a moment."
Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. I don't want to face this.
With leaden feet, I walk to the door and unlock it. When I swing it open, Randall is standing there with a kind smile on his face. "Can I come in?"
I nod and stand aside so he can enter, shutting the door behind him.
"You're absolutely right," Randall says as I turn to face him. "There are other people qualified. In fact, some are way more qualified than you are. I interviewed two other anthropologists that had dual Ph.D.s in psychology in addition to their Ph.Ds in anthropology. They certainly would have been far better choices than you to deal with any psychological stressors that Zach would be experiencing."
I nod in understanding. "I agree. I'm sure one of them would be more than happy to step in. This is a golden opportunity."
"Yes, it is," Randall concurs. "But I don't care about the opportunity for their benefit, or yours for that matter. What I care about is the opportunity for Zach."
My eyes lower to the floor in shame, that I've ruined this for Zach.
"And I believe you are the best person to make the most of this opportunity for him," Randall concludes.
My eyes rise to his in confusion. "I don't understand."
"I chose you very specifically, Dr. Reed. Do you think I was just sending someone in to Caraica blindly, hoping for the best? No, I knew everything about the Caraican tribe before I even started looking at anthropological help. I spent a great deal of time with Father Gaul and other scientists that had studied indigenous tribes, learning about Caraican society and their customs and norms. I needed to understand what Zach was truly facing before he came out of the jungle. And once I was able to grasp what I was facing, then I started my search for the perfect person to bring him out."
I'm stunned silent but even if I had the power of speech, I have no clue what to say.
"You were the person, Moira. The best person for Zach."
Understanding starts to dawn on me. "Because I was a woman?"
"Because you are a beautiful, strong, and independent woman, and you're close to his age. You're young and idealistic, so you could show him the world with fresh eyes. You are the antithesis to what Zach is accustomed to. I think you are the best representation of what opportunity looks like in this world. You're also no-nonsense and dedicated. You have a kind touch and a soft voice, and I knew Zach would be like a wounded animal some of the time. You were my first choice then, and you're my only choice now, so I am not accepting your resignation."
"But... but..."
"But nothing," Randall scoffs at me. "I know you aren't solely responsible for the amazing transformation I've seen in Zach these last few weeks, but you are hugely responsible. Zach has opened himself up to the possibility of staying in this world. He's given this old man a chance, and he had every reason to hate me. You helped to make that happen."
"You're wrong, Randall. Zach isn't open to the possibility of staying here. He told me as much this morning."
Randall appraises me a moment, and then walks to my bedroom door. Just as he opens it, he turns to me and says, "Zach is absolutely open to the possibility of staying here. I see it every time he looks at you. I know you two think you were keeping a great secret from me, but I saw it right away... what you have found in each other. And besides that... you two aren't exactly quiet at night."
My face heats up so hot that a tiny sheen of sweat breaks out on my face. Randall gives me a grin and says, "So, you two get packed up and enjoy your weekend at your sister's. I'll see you both on Monday."
Randall leaves and shuts the door behind him, leaving me standing there with a red face and my jaw hanging open.
Chapter 23
Zach
Moira's given me the silent treatment almost the entire trip to North Carolina. I was waiting outside her room when Randall exited.
He gave me a smile and clapped me on the shoulder. "She's a special woman, Zach. Tread carefully with her."
I merely nodded at him in understanding, feeling pretty fucking low about myself. I breached Moira's trust in me by revealing our secret, but I was so tired of hearing her f
ears. I knew Randall wouldn't care and would even be happy about it. But I couldn't get her to see that, so I took matters into my own hand. And I knew she was going to be pissed at me, but I did it anyway.
Randall's words to me... to be careful with Moira... punch me in the gut, because the thought of hurting her shreds me from the inside out. I know I hurt her just now, and I know I'm going to hurt her when I leave.
But I have to return to Caraica. There is nothing for me here. Nothing except Moira, that is. But what is she going to do? Take care of me? Let me live with her in exchange for providing her orgasms? I have nothing to offer her. Nothing that I'm good at except hunting and raiding, which are skills that are absolutely useless here in this society.
I entered her bedroom to find a suitcase on the bed and her putting clothes in it. For a brief moment, I thought maybe she was still going through with her plan to quit but then, in a clipped voice, she said, "You should go get packed if you still want to go with me to visit Lisa."
The grin that popped out on my face was spontaneous, so relieved I was that she wasn't quitting her job.
Quitting me.
She glared at me in response.
"How long are you going to be mad at me?" I asked.
"I haven't decided," she sniffed, and my grin got bigger. I'd let her have her pique for now, but if she wasn't talking to me by the time we went to bed tonight, I'd fucking demand that she forgive me. I figured I'd fuck her back into line if I had to, just so I can have her smile and laugh again.
I've tried several times to strike up a conversation with her during the ride, asking her more about Lisa and her family. Her words were short, but she wasn't about to be totally rude to me. So she gave me some minimal information, but managed to still radiate angry vibes toward me.
My cock was hard half the time, thinking about getting into her pants so I could make her warm up to me again.
When she pulls into her sister's driveway in Wilmington, in front of a cute beach cottage of gray shingles and white trim, I turn toward her. She shuts the car off and starts to grab for the door handle. My hand snakes out and I let my fingers slide along her jaw, where I grip it firmly. Turning her face toward me, I wait until I have her attention and say, "I'm sorry."