Chapter 19

Lara and Travis had just finished solidifying their “date” plans when the universe dropped a big fat consolation prize on her.

Wrapped up in her conversation, she didn’t quite catch the ding of the elevators opening on their floor. “See you Thursday?” she asked, grinning up at Travis.

“Can’t wait,” he answered earnestly before wrapping her up in a big hug.

It wasn’t until he released her that she noticed Zavien had walked right by them, undoubtedly witnessing them confirming their plans and sealing the deal with an embrace.

Zavien glanced at her over his shoulder as she made her way down the hall to her apartment. “Another date with Travis?”

“Looks that way,” she said, mostly because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

~Yes, because I need you to be frothing at the mouth with jealousy? Yes, because I can’t stand the thought of spending another night alone with my hand between my legs and you on my mind?~

~As if.~

“Good luck with that,” he said with a small, knowing twitch of his eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, immediately affronted and unsure why.

“It means that I don’t buy you two for a second.”

Lara clamped down on her surprise. “And why should I care what you think?” She scoffed, probably laying it on a tad too thick.

“You tell me,” he replied, giving her one of his little head tilts.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, my professional opinion is that you’re severely deluded and should seek help.” She offered him a sweet smile. “My personal opinion is that you’re an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Well, you’re probably right on both counts, but I still stand by what I said. No need to work so hard to make me jealous, Lara. You know where I live. All you have to do is ask nicely.” As he spoke, he leaned down to hover his face right above hers.

She flicked his cap hard enough to send it tipping off his head. He backed up with a surprised grunt, which fueled her desire to go on the offense. Tired of him having her on the ropes, she decided it was her turn to make him squirm.

“Oh?” She tilted her head and set her tone to suggestive as she asked, “So, if I just say please, I can get whatever I want?” With a coy smile, she batted her eyelashes.

“Please and thank you,” he corrected. “Don’t forget your manners.” From the way his eyes lingered on her lips, she would say it was working.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to be punished.” Her lips twisted into a playful smirk.

He leaned closer, clearly no longer threatened by her flicks, and she was pleased to see it—half because she felt like she was winning and half because it felt good to know she could get under his skin the way he did to her.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and from all the smugness in the visible portion of his face, she suspected he was smirking too.

Heat pooled in her cheeks as well as between her thighs, and she inwardly sighed because she knew it would mean another lonely night of moaning into her pillow. “Is that what you want, Zavien? To punish me?” She pouted. “Have I really been so bad?”

“The worst,” he answered without hesitation.

She couldn’t help the genuine laugh that burst out of her.

His eyes softened but remained intently trained on her.

“What have I done?” She stepped closer to him.

He didn’t back away. “That’s a laundry list of items.”

“And what about your punishment?” She tilted her head.

“For what?” He mirrored her head tilt.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She trailed a finger up his chest, annoyed to feel how solid and warm he was—annoyed and turned on, which was becoming a familiar mix of emotions for her. “How about we start with you calling the building manager to make a noise complaint?”

By the time she finished her question, her voice had lost its flirty lilt in favor of a displeased edge. She could have sworn she heard him swallow as she poked her finger into his chest.

“Did I? I don’t recall.”

“Do you have any idea how awful that was?”

“Do you have any idea what it was like to have to listen to you from my apartment?” He leaned into her finger, his dark eyes intense and heated as they scoured her face.

“You started it.”

“And so I finished it.” Smugness filled his tone.

She took a deep breath to calm her growing frustration and fixed him with a serene smile. “No, actually, you didn’t.” She smiled wider when confusion flitted across his face. “But I think Travis will get the job done.”

With that, she turned and headed straight into her apartment without looking back.

***

Lara was eternally grateful that she had been blessed with people in her life who did not scare easily.

Honestly, her life was a little scary at times. Grudge matches in apartment hallways, storming in and out of the mailroom, traumatizing pizza delivery boys—it was all very standard for her.

She could try to tell herself it wasn’t, that this was all due to the machinations of her horrendous neighbor across the hall, but the truth was, she was easily goaded into stupid decisions, like wearing only a towel to deliver a thorough reaming.

Not her finest moment, but she had recovered, and now, she was on to bigger and better schemes.

Travis had turned out to be an excellent coconspirator, and his voice had quickly drowned out the Delia on her shoulder. Lara was in too deep now to “grow up” and “act like an adult,” even though the childish pettiness of it all wasn’t lost on her.

Their plan was simple: Lara would bring Zavien his mail, lure him in with false kindness, and then leave him high and dry as she walked off with Travis into the night.

It was a win-win situation; if it didn’t have the desired effect on Zavien, she would still get to spend a nice evening with Travis before he left for a few months on a government reforesting job.

She crossed the hall to knock on Zavien’s door—bang on it, really. When he opened it, looking unimpressed, she held out his envelope.

“That’s it? No snide remark? No threats?” He lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

“I will not have you ruining my night,” she said flippantly. “But I would like to ask you for a favor.”

Both of his eyebrows tilted upward in surprise.

She went back into her apartment and waved for him to follow. “I’ll just be a minute,” she called out over her shoulder before slipping into her bedroom. When she came back out, he was standing in her living room looking very confused as to why he was there.

When his eyes fixed on her and then widened in surprise, she bit back her smile.

Keeping her voice innocent, she asked, “Can you zip me up?” and turned to reveal her bare back to him.

After clearing his throat, he stepped toward her and quickly hooked the fish-eye closure at the top, seemingly careful not to brush his fingers against her neck.

She wondered if that was for her benefit or his.

Then, his hand rested on her tailbone as his fingers clasped around the small zipper at the base of her spine. “Lara, is that…”

~Does he sound a little strangled?~ “Hmm?” she hummed in question, forcing her lips not to turn up in a triumphant grin. The dress gaped more than wide enough for him to see what she was wearing beneath it.

“Is this the lingerie I put in your mailbox?” His words came out barely louder than a whisper. His fingers brushed against her skin right above the waistband of the delicate mesh thong he had so generously gifted her. “You’re wearing lingerie I bought on a date with Travis?”

Lara maintained her innocent facade. “Well, it’s not like you bought it for me to wear for you.”

He cleared his throat.

“And,” she continued, “it is really nice. It would be a shame if no one got to see it.”

“Mm, a shame,” he mumbled, his fingers running the length of her back, from the waistband of her underwear up to the longline bra that hugged her and propped her up oh so right.

He really had done an impeccable job with the sizing.

But then a loud rip spoiled their moment, and Lara whirled on him in shock. “Did you just rip my dress?”

Zavien’s eyes creased before he looked down at her. “An honest mistake.” He raised his palms in front of him. “I pulled the zipper the wrong way.”

“You mean down instead of up!” She huffed. “What the hell, Zavien?”

Finally, his composure seemed to break as his brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be wearing that for Travis.” Frustration colored his voice, sending a thrill through her.

“Oh, really? Who should I wear it for, then? You?”

She had said it sarcastically, but when he didn’t respond—only glaring at her while she glared back—the heat between them shifted from anger to hunger.

In the blink of an eye, his mask was gone, and before her mind could register the change, his lips crashed onto hers.