Prologue
LAURA
I had waited for him. Too long. Long enough for hope to wither, for longing to rot into habit.
Even on my busiest days, I never forgot to send another email—another confession I could never share with anyone else but him. Each message had been a piece of me I shouldn’t have given, a secret soaked in the kind of desire that only grew darker with time.
He had never replied, but I told myself he still read them—that somewhere, somehow, he still thought of me.
But silence had become his answer. Year after year.
Then five months ago, my stepfather announced his son's engagement, that was when it finally hit me: Zach Voss wasn’t coming back. To me.
How pathetic I had felt for ever sending those dirty messages to someone who had long forgotten me.
Six years. Six years of silence. Six years of proof he didn’t want me.
So when Derek proposed again—after I had turned him down the first time, convinced he was rushing things—I said yes. I told myself it was closure. A fresh start. I planned a wedding and convinced myself I had moved on.
Now I was back in this house—the one where it had all started—for the wedding. Mom had insisted on a big family affair, and I couldn’t say no. Not when she had been distant for years, not when Tara—Zach’s sister, my own personal nightmare—had spent a decade twisting everyone against me.
I had thought I could handle it. I had thought I could walk through these halls, smile for the photographers, and marry Derek without looking back.
But then I heard Zach was back to the country. For the wedding. For me.
I stood in my old bedroom, the one I hadn’t slept in since I was a teenager, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes too bright. I wore a silk robe, nothing underneath, because I was supposed to be getting ready for a fitting at the bridal shop.
My phone buzzed on the dresser, and I flinched. It was probably Derek, checking in like he always did. I ignored it for now, my heart hammering as I tried to breathe through the panic.
Zach was here. Downstairs. Somewhere in this house. I wanted to run to him, throw myself at his feet, beg him to say those words again. But I couldn’t. I was engaged. I was supposed to be in love with someone else. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want me. Those unanswered emails, his absence, his engagement. I wasn’t a fool. I wouldn’t chase a man who’d made it clear I was nothing to him. Derek was enough. He was a good man, and he loved me deeply. If I hadn’t delayed things with him, we probably would’ve been married already—maybe even expecting our second child by now
The phone buzzed again, insistent. I snatched it up, expecting Derek’s name, but it was the bridal shop. “Hello?” I answered, my voice too high.
“Ms. Rowe? This is Claire from Bella Bride. We’re ready for your final fitting. Can you be here in thirty minutes?” she asked, her tone professional and clipped.
“Yeah, I… I’ll be there.” I glanced at the clock. Great. Eight minutes to pull myself together. “Thanks, Claire.”
“Perfect. See you soon!” She hung up, and I was left staring at the phone, my stomach in knots. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go downstairs, couldn’t risk seeing him. Not when I was this close to unraveling.
I forced myself to move, pulling on underwear and slipping into a fitted yellow dress that hugged my curves—one Derek had gotten me two weeks ago for my twenty-four birthday. It was elegant, understated, everything Derek loved. I pulled on heels, finished my makeup with a light touch, and gathered my brown hair into a simple updo.
I didn’t want to go downstairs. I didn’t want to see Zach, those fucking blue eyes that always looked at me like he could see every secret I ever tried to hide. But the bridal shop wouldn’t wait. Derek. The wedding. I had to go.
I grabbed my purse, drew in a steady breath, and reached for the door. My hand barely brushed the knob before it swung open and my breath caught.
Zach filled the doorway. Taller. Broader. More devastating than I remembered. His dark hair was pushed back, a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead, giving him that dangerously undone look. A black button-down clung to his frame, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tattoos coiling over muscle. And those eyes—those piercing blue eyes—found mine and I was gone. My body buzzed, heat pooling low between my thighs. He looked at me like he knew—like he could smell my need from across the room.
“Hi,” he said, his voice low, that familiar rasp curling around my heart and squeezing.
“Hi,” I breathed, my voice cracking like I was eighteen again.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click that sounded like a gunshot in my chest. The air thickened, charged, every inch between us electric.
“Been a while, Laura,” His gaze raked over me slow enough to bruise. “You look… fuck. Grown up.”
I swallowed hard. “You too.” Understatement. He wasn’t the twenty-two-year-old boy I remembered. He was harder now. A man who looked like he could break the world if it crossed him.
“Didn’t think you’d come back.”
“Had to,” he leaned against the door with his arms crossed. “Family shit. You know how it goes.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Right. Family.” Not me. Never me.
He tilted his head, studying me. “You’re shaking, Laura.”
“I’m not,” I lied, my voice too tight. My fingers curled around my purse, trembling despite the effort to hold them still.
His lips curved, not quite a smile. “Still a shit liar.” He pushed off the door and closed the distance. I should have stepped back. I didn’t. The air between us crackled, thick with everything we’d never said.
“What’s got you so wound up?” His voice dropped, rough and low. “The wedding?”
My stomach twisted. I turned my face away, but he caught my chin with two fingers, forcing my eyes back to his.
“Don’t wanna talk that. Not with you” I muttered.
A low smirk curved his lips. “Don’t want me to remind you that in three days you’re walking down the aisle to a man who will never own you the way I do?”
Heat flooded my cheeks.
“Stop,” I whispered, but it lacked conviction. His eyes were swallowing me whole, and I was drowning, helpless in their pull.
“Stop what, pretty?” His voice dropped, that word—pretty— sinking into me. My body betrayed me, drawn to him like it knew his voice better than my own name. “You don’t want me to stop. Not really.”
I shook my head, desperate to hold onto anger, onto reason. “You ignored me for six years, Zach. You left me hanging for years, and now you show up acting like—”
“Like I still know exactly what this body needs?” he cut in, his hand brushing my hip. I gasped, the touch igniting me. “Like I know you’re standing here, pretending you're not wet just hearing my voice.”
I tried to pull away, but his other hand settled on my hip, anchoring me. “Zach—”
“Tell me I’m wrong.” His gaze burned into mine, dark and unrelenting.
“Fuck you,” I hissed, but it came out weak, needy.
He chuckled, dark and low. “Bet you’d like that.”
My stomach flipped. Heat rushed to my face.
My phone buzzed, shattering the haze. I fumbled for it in my purse—only to freeze when I saw Derek’s name flash on the screen. My stomach twisted.
“Hey,” I said, forcing my voice steady as I glared at Zack.
“Laura, you almost at the shop?” Derek asked. “They’re waiting.”
“I’m… on my way,” I said, my eyes locked on Zack’s.
He watched me like a predator toying with prey, his gaze lingering on the curve of my breasts where the neckline of my dress dipped low. Heat rushed through me, my nipples tightening beneath the lace as his stare burned hotter.
“You sure you’re okay?” Derek pressed. “You sound weird”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice cracked as Zach’s hand slid to my waist, pulling me against him. His cock pressed into my hip, hard and unmistakable. “Just… traffic. I’ll be there soon.” I jerked away from Zach, even as my pussy was weeping to be filled.
“Okay, babe. Hurry. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I said, hanging up fast. I shoved the phone back in my purse, my chest heaving. “You’re an asshole.”
He smirked, shrugging. “Yeah. But you’re still here. Still wet for me.”
His gaze traced the slit of my dress, pausing where it bared my thighs, before climbing back to my face, that smug smirk cutting deep. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
When he stepped closer, I stumbled back. “You don’t get to do this,” I said, blinking back threatened tears to fall. “Not now, Zach”
“Laura, I never…”
“You’re engaged, Zach,” I cut him off, my voice breaking.
“So are you,” he countered, his jaw clenching.
The words hung between us like a final note, signaling that whatever was between us was ending.
I nodded slowly.
“I should go. I’m already late.” I tried to move past him, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm.
“I was never engaged,” he said, jaw tight. “That was my dad’s bullshit. He wanted me to play nice with some investor’s daughter. I told him to fuck off.”
My heart stuttered. “You could’ve told me.”
“I’m telling you now.” His thumb brushed my lip, and I trembled despite myself. “I’m here, Laura. And you’re still mine.”
“I’m getting married in three days,” I blurted.
“I know,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine. “But Derek still doesn’t know his limp dick can’t make your little pussy happy, does he?”
My breath hitched. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” He bit out. “Don’t remind you how you used to beg for my cock down your throat? How I’d fist your pretty hair and call you my pretty little slut while you choked on every inch?”
I whimpered. Actually whimpered.
“Six years of silence,” he murmured. “And still, every filthy email you sent me is burned into my brain. Every late-night confession. Every time you described exactly how you wanted me to ruin you.”
Heat flooded my face. “You read them?"
“Every single one.” His voice dropped, dark and intimate. “I saved them. Read them when I was alone. Fucked my fist thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around me, choking, drooling, begging.”
My knees weakened. I hated how easily my body responded to him.
“And now you’re trying to tell me you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with him.”
“He loves me,” I whispered, the words sounding weak even to my own ears.
“He might.” Zach's lips curved, but there was no warmth in it. “But he doesn’t know you. Not the way I do. He doesn’t know how wet you get just from being looked at the right way."
Zach’s hand lifted, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek
"Six years doesn't change anything. I didn't stay because I didn't want you, I stayed away because I thought letting you move on would be the kinder thing… but the thought of another man touching you has been killing me"
“You’re too late.”
“Am I?” His free hand slid beneath my dress, cupping me through lace panties. I gasped, hips jerking into his touch. “Because this cunt says different.”
He pressed harder, two fingers dragging over the wet spot blooming at the center. My knees buckled. He held me up by the throat, thumb stroking like I was a skittish mare he’d already broken.
“Zach—”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged, voice velvet over steel. “Tell me your pussy isn’t already aching for me. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me every time Derek touches you.”
I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed up.
He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You’re still mine, Laura. You’ve always been mine. That ring on your finger doesn’t change shit.”
The phone buzzed again—Derek’s name lighting up the screen like a warning.
Zack's eyes flicked to it, then back to me, a dangerous glint in those blue eyes. “Answer it.”
“No,” I breathed.
He plucked the phone from my trembling fingers before I could stop him. “Too late.”
“Zach—don’t—”
He swiped to answer, voice cold and calm as ice. “She’s not coming to the fitting, Derek.”
I lunged for the phone, but he turned, keeping it easily out of reach while his other hand caught my wrist.
“Yeah, she’s with me,” Zach continued, tone flat, almost bored. “Tell the bridal shop they can cancel the appointment. She won’t be needing the dress.”
“Give it back!” I hissed, panic spiking.
He ignored me completely. “She’s busy. Very busy. You’ll get her back when I decide she’s done.”
Derek’s voice crackled through the speaker, confused and rising in volume. Zach listened for half a second, then ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed like it meant nothing.
I stared at him, chest heaving. “What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just—”
“I can,” he cut in, stepping forward until my back hit the wall. He caged me in with both arms, his body heat surrounding me. “And I just did. Because I’m done pretending this little game of yours means anything. You’re not marrying him, Laura.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” I shot back, even as my pulse thundered between my legs.
His hand slid to my throat—not squeezing, just resting there, heavy and possessive. His thumb stroked slowly over my racing pulse. “Your body already decided for you. Feel how fast your heart is beating? How hard your nipples are under that pretty dress? You’re soaked, aren’t you?”
I bit my lip, refusing to answer.
Zach’s mouth hovered just above mine, so close I could taste his breath. If you really waited for me… if you still want my cock the way you wrote in every filthy email…” He eased the pressure on my throat and took one deliberate step back, giving me just enough space to move… or to run.
“Drop to your knees, Laura.” His voice was quiet now, but it carried the weight of a command. “Show me you’re still mine. Show me how pretty you look when you’re desperate for it.”
Zach’s blue eyes held mine, dark with challenge and hunger.
My heart hammered against my ribs. In three days, I was supposed to marry Derek—the man who adored me.
My mind screamed at me to walk out, to grab my purse and run to the bridal shop like nothing had happened.
But my body refused to move toward the door.
And the worst part was… I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
Author’s Note:
Dear lovelies, thank you for reading.
If you enjoyed the prologue, please like, comment, share, and leave a review
✨ What did you feel while reading?
🔥 What do you think of Zach so far?
📅 What date did you start reading? I’d love to know when you entered their worldj
