The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

He kissed her like he was still furious. Like Mike’s name was stuck somewhere between his teeth and he needed Roxie’s mouth to get rid of it. His hand caught her jaw, fingers firm under her chin, opening her up for him, and his tongue slid into her mouth fast and deep.

Roxie moaned against him.

She hated how quick her body answered. One hard kiss from him and two days of pretending she was fine cracked right open. She had spent lunch laughing too loudly with Mike, leaning closer than she needed to, letting Zac watch from across the hallway until his eyes went black with jealousy.

Now here he was.

Dragging her into a storage room like he still had any right.

Kissing her like the breakup had been a bad joke.

His hand slid to her waist and pulled her onto her toes. Roxie grabbed the front of his hoodie, then shoved both palms hard against his chest.

Zac stumbled back until his shoulders slammed into the metal shelving. Boxes rattled behind him. Something plastic clattered to the floor.

Roxie didn’t look.

She fisted his hoodie and yanked him down, kissing him harder than before. Teeth first, then tongue, wet and angry and starving.

Zac made a low, surprised sound into her mouth. For half a second, his body went still, like his brain had finally remembered they were broken up and had no business touching each other like this.

Then he kissed her back just as rough.

His hands found her waist, gripping hard enough that she knew she would feel it later. Then they slid lower, cupping her ass and hauling her flush against him.

She felt him immediately.

Hard behind his jeans. Thick against her stomach. Already there.

Proof that the breakup had changed nothing.

Roxie’s hands went under his hoodie. She dragged her palms over the warm muscle of his back, feeling the way he tensed under her touch. Her fingers slid lower, under the waistband of his jeans, just enough to make him groan and pull her tighter.

That sound almost made her smile.

She liked him like this. Mad. Messy. Losing the control he always tried to keep. She liked knowing Mike had been enough to make him snap, and she hated herself for liking it.

Zac’s hand tightened on her jaw again.

Roxie’s eyes lifted to his.

He was breathing hard through his mouth. His lips were red. His pupils looked blown wide, but there was something sharper under the lust now.

"You think I care about him?" he asked.

Roxie’s chest rose fast. "You dragged me in here because of him."

"No." Zac’s thumb shifted along her jaw. "I dragged you in here because you wanted me to."

Her mouth shut.

His jaw flexed. "You stood there with him laughing like that. Looking at me after every damn smile. You knew I’d come over."

"You still came."

"Yeah." His voice dropped. "That’s the problem."

Roxie shoved his chest again, but he barely moved this time.

"You broke up with me."

"Then act like I broke up with you."

"I did."

His eyes dropped to her mouth. "No. You acted like you wanted me to forget I did."

The words hit too close.

Roxie laughed, mean and breathless. "You think you’re any better?"

Zac’s hand fell from her jaw.

"You touched my face once and saw I liked it," she said. "You’ve been using that too."

His eyes darkened.

For a second, neither of them moved.

The noise from the hallway reached them faintly. Voices. Lockers. Someone laughing near the end of the wing.

Inside the storage room, Zac’s breathing changed.

"I don’t give a shit about Mike," he said.

"Sure."

"I don’t."

"You looked like you wanted to kill him."

"Because you used him."

Roxie’s throat tightened.

"You wanted me jealous," Zac said. "You wanted me stupid. Congratulations."

The words should have embarrassed her.

They did.

They also made heat pull low in her stomach.

"So what?" she asked. "You wanted proof I still cared. Congratulations."

Zac stared at her.

"You liked seeing me jealous too," Roxie said. "You smiled when I lost it over those girls around you. Don’t sound like the fucking saint."

His mouth tightened.

Roxie stepped closer until her body brushed his. "You want me crazy over you. You just hate that I can make you crazy too."

Zac grabbed her waist and turned them so fast her back hit the wall with a dull thud. Loose boxes shifted, his arm went up to protect her head, it fell on the shelf beside her head. One toppled and spilled papers across the floor.

Neither of them cared.

"You’re pissing me off," he said.

"Good."

Zac kissed her again.

The kiss turned messier fast. Tongues sliding, teeth catching lower lips, the wet sound of their mouths too loud in the small room. Zac’s thigh shoved between hers, and Roxie rolled her hips down on it before she could stop herself.

Friction shot through her.

She moaned in satisfaction because she felt the exact second he lost more control.

His hands moved under her shirt, rough palms sliding up her bare sides. His thumbs brushed the underside of her bra, and she arched into him, biting his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan.

Students were still outside. Her friends were probably waiting near the main doors, wondering where she had gone. Mike was probably still standing somewhere with that stupid look on his face, thinking he had walked her toward practice like it meant something.

Roxie didn’t care.

All she cared about was Zac’s mouth, his hands, his body pressing into hers like he was trying to prove he still had a place there.

Their hands were everywhere. Her fingers dragged up his chest, curled into his hoodie, then slid down his stomach. She found the waistband of his jeans and dipped under it, feeling hot skin and tight muscle.

Zac’s breathing broke.

Roxie went lower and cupped him through the denim.

He was fully hard now. Heavy and thick against her palm. He twitched the second she squeezed.

Zac tore his mouth from hers with a sharp inhale. His forehead dropped to the side of her neck, and he panted against her skin, open mouthed and uneven.

"Roxie."

His voice cracked on her name, low and rough, like it had been dragged out of him.

She squeezed him again through his jeans, thumb dragging along the hard ridge of him.

His hips rolled into her hand, slow and helpless, even while his fingers dug into her waist like he was trying to hold himself back.

"Still don’t care about Mike?" she whispered.

Zac lifted his head.

His eyes were dark enough to make her stomach flip.

"I care that you knew this would work."

Roxie’s fingers tightened around him through the denim.

"It worked because you wanted it to."

His jaw clenched.

Then he lifted her.

Roxie gasped as his hands slid under her thighs and picked her up like she weighed nothing. He pinned her higher against the wall and buried his face in her throat. She locked her legs around his waist on instinct.

He ground up between her legs.

The rough denim dragged against the thin spandex of her shorts, right over the center of her. Roxie’s head fell back against the wall. The friction was filthy. Too good. Too much like all the things they had done before everything broke.

She was wet.

Zac felt it.

She knew he felt it because his whole body went still for half a second.

"I knew it," Roxie breathed.

Zac froze.

So did she.

No.

Her stomach dropped.

He was going to stop. She could feel it before he moved. The breakup was going to slam back into place, and he was going to step away and leave her standing there with swollen lips, shaking thighs, and empty hands.

Then Zac set her down.

Her feet hit the floor, and the sudden space between their bodies made panic flare sharp in her chest.

Roxie dropped to her knees before he could fully pull away.

Zac froze completely.

His hands hovered in the air like he had no idea where to put them.

"Roxie," he said.

He sounded wrecked.

She reached for one of his hands and guided it into her hair.

His fingers slid in slowly.

"Oh fuck," he breathed.

His hand tightened, holding on instead of pushing.

Roxie looked up once and caught the stunned look on his face. His eyes were locked on her like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Like every jealous, stupid, ugly thought he had brought into this room had disappeared and left only her on her knees in front of him.

Good.

Let him look.

She focused on the front of his jeans. Her fingers shook when she opened the button. The zipper sounded too loud in the quiet room. Zac’s breathing went rough above her.

She tugged the denim down just enough, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

His cock sprang free.

Roxie froze.

"Zac."

His hoodie was still hanging low, blocking part of him. Roxie shoved it higher with one hand, then took his free hand and placed it there.

"Hold it."

Zac swallowed hard and held the hoodie up.

Now she could see him.

All of him.

Heavy and thick, curving up past his stomach. Flushed dark at the head, wet at the tip. He twitched in the cool air, a slow, hard pulse that made her mouth go dry.

This was the first time she had seen him with her own eyes.

Feeling him through clothes had been different. Touching the head of him for one second before he came in her hand had been different.

This was worse.

Better.

He was bigger than she had imagined. Veined. Hot-looking. So hard he almost looked like it hurt.

"Roxie," Zac groaned.

His cock pulsed again, like it answered her name.

She didn’t answer.

She reached out and traced one vein with her finger, starting at the base and following it slowly upward. The skin felt strange under her touch. Hard and soft at the same time. Warm enough that her whole hand reacted.

Zac’s knee dipped, then locked again.

Roxie looked up.

His mouth was open. His eyes were dark and fixed on her hand. The hand in her hair tightened against her scalp.