"Dad is glad for the help," Anna said casually. "Oh, and guess what. Kyle asked if he could get a ride on your motorcycle if he does well in his next test. I told him I would ask you." The idea of Anna's little brother begging for a ride on his prized motorcycle sends a surge of possessive pride through Zack. "No fucking way," he says instantly, sitting up straight against his headboard. "That kid is barely taller than my tires. What part of 'dangerous' does he not understand?" His voice carries clear amusement despite the protest– the thought of showing off his bike to someone Anna cares about appeals to his protective instincts in a different way. "But fine," he concedes with a smirk, picturing he hopeful face when she relayed the requestion. "If he aces that test and proves he is responsible enough not to fall off, I will take him for a short spin around the block." He runs a hand through his blond hair thoughtfully as other implications hit him.
"Thank you," Anna sang through the phone. "You are the best." Zack's competitive nature melts completely at her cheerful phrase, the simple phrase– "You are the best"– hitting him harder than any victory. His defensive posture softens against the headboard as he lets out a quiet laugh. "The best, huh? Don't get carried away," he teased back, but his voice holds undeniable warmth. "I am doing this for you, not for your genius little brother. You know that." He adjusts the phone against his shoulder, reaching for the lamp on his bedside table to dim the harsh light. The room takes on a more intimate glow as shadows creep into the corners. "So, what is your reward for being such an amazing teacher tonight?" he asks suggestively, his tone shifting to something lower and more intimate now that they are alone.
"I should get a reward, should I not?" Anna asks suggestively. "Well, tomorrow is going to be like a reward, won't it?" Zack's body tense with anticipation at her suggestive tone, the promise of tomorrow suddenly feeling like an electric current running through his veins. "Tomorrow is definitely a reward," he confirms huskily, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "But rewards come in stages, Anna. You can't just get the main prize without earning some foreplay first." He shifts positions on the bed, laying down completely as if settling in for a long conversation that is going places. His hand trails along his own thigh absently while listening for her response. "Tell me what you are wearing right now," he commands softly but firmly. "Describe it like you are describing it to me while I am imagining taking it off piece by piece tomorrow."
"Well, I have short, tight pajama shorts on. With bunnies on," Anna said seductively, her free hands trailing down her stomach to rub slow circles on her thigh as she imagines he is the one touching her. "And a light blue t-shirt, nice and thin…" Zack's imagination runs wild with images of her in those bunny shorts. He closes his eyes briefly to commit the mental picture to memory. "Bunny shorts? Fucking perfect," he murmurs, his voice taking on a rougher edge. "I am picturing you right now– those tiny shorts hugging your hips exactly where I want to grab them tomorrow." Anna's hand moves up her thigh as she spreads her leg slightly. Zack shifts beneath his blankets, adjusting himself discreetly as his body responds predictably to the mental image. The thin blue t-shirt sounds even more tempting– easy access for when he gets his hands on her. "Thin shirt too, huh?" he continues, his tone growing more intense. "Good, that means less fabric between me and your skin when I pull you against me Saturday morning."
"What are you wearing?" Anna asks sweetly, her hand now rubbing between her legs, touching herself through her pajama shorts. Zack's competitive nature loves this question– it is an invitation to show off, to give her something specific to picture while she sleeps tonight. "Right now? Just boxers," he answers immediately, his voice dropping to a lower register. "Black ones. The kind that does not hide anything when I get hard thinking about you in those fucking bunny shorts." Anna can vividly picture it, the lines of his erection visible through the material… "Tomorrow though," Zack continues, the promise hanging heavy in his words. "I am wearing jeans. The faded ones you like. And a fitted black shirt that shows off my muscles." His breath grows slightly heavier as he describes it all aloud for her benefit.
"Sexy," Anna breathed out, she looks over at her planned outfit for tomorrow, hanging on a hanger on her wardrobe's handle. "I am conflicted about what I will wear tomorrow. Would not want to distract you too much." Zack revels in her conflicted admission– the idea of her deliberating what to wear specifically to distract him send a surge of possessive satisfaction straight through him. "Distract me?" he repeats with dark amusement, his voice dropping to a dangerous lever. "Anna, you could walk up to me wearing a paper bag and I would still find a way to get you out of it by noon." He sits up fully now, running a hand through his blond hair as if trying to rein in the primal instincts her words are awakening. "Stop thinking so much about tomorrow," he commands gently but firmly. "Whatever you wear will be perfect because it will be on your body. End of discussion." His tone shifts back to its usual confident cadence as he adjusts the phone against his shoulder.
"Phew," Anna said playfully. "That takes a load off my mind. I guess knowing us we will probably get distracted no matter what." Zack thrives on her playful surrender, a satisfied grin spreading across his face in the dim lighting of his bedroom. The tension in his shoulders visibly eases as he leans back against the headboard. "Exactly," he says, his voice carrying that smug confidence she finds to irritating and attractive all at once. "See? I knew you would come around to my way of thinking eventually." He crosses an ankle over the other, the phone screen casts a faint blue glow across his features. "I am glad we are on the same page about distractions," he continues, his tone turning more conspiratorial. "Because tomorrow morning? First thing I am doing is pulling you against me and checking if those bunny shorts are as soft as they sound."