If You Were Mine
Page 29
His dark gaze heated up, causing ripples of electricity to move across her skin with nothing more than one look. “There somewhere you need to be?”
God no, she wasn’t planning on leaving any-time soon. Heck, she could barely remember the rest of the world existed when she was with him. But boy, would there be trouble if he ever realized that.
His beautiful mouth moved up into a small grin just before he added, “Or are you just in that much of hurry to finally have me?”
“Just ready to be impressed with your patented moves before my next birthday rolls around.”
Any other man would have acted like she’d just called his entire masculinity into question, but not Zach. Instead, he simply continued to grin that way-too-gorgeous grin.
“Box number two it is,” he said as he made a small check mark in the air. “You can’t wait another second to have me.”
Heather would have made it a point to contradict that ridiculously arrogant—and pathetically true—assumption, had it not been for the soft click of Zach closing his door to keep the dogs out of the bedroom. The bedroom lights went off a beat later.
She heard her swift intake of breath as his bedroom went immediately dark. Despite the large windows, the moon was hidden behind a thick layer of fog tonight and her heartbeat ratcheted up even higher.
She’d never much cared for the dark, had never seen the romance, the sexiness, in having the control of her eyesight taken away. Not when it felt like it took away her choices, too. One of her lovers a few years back had wanted to blindfold her, but she hadn’t been even the slightest bit interested.
She worked to fight back her innate panic as she said, “What are you doing?”
Heather couldn’t see Zach in his bedroom, but she could hear him moving slowly toward her from the doorway.
“Getting ready to impress you.”
Why did his voice sound even deeper than usual in the dark...and why couldn’t she stop herself from holding her breath as he came closer and closer?
She’d spent so long in control that even the few moments of standing in an unfamiliar room waiting for Zach to kiss her, touch her, were too long.
She couldn’t keep the slight tremble out of her voice as she said, “Zach, I don—”
Before she could finish admitting to weakness, he was there with his hands on either side of her face, touching her so gently she could hardly believe it was the same man who’d practically been born with a wrench in his hands.
The pads of his thumbs stroked over her lips, whisper soft, and she instinctively opened for him to lick at the tip of one finger. His low groan rumbled through the room, the only sound apart from her breathing.
She was panting even though she was standing perfectly still, but there didn’t seem to be any way to get her breath back when Zach was sliding his hands slowly down from her cheekbones to her neck. She wanted to arch into his hands, but even though his touch was barely skimming the surface of her skin, it was as if he was holding her completely captive.
“Such soft skin,” he murmured, and she wanted to feel the almost reverent words against her lips, wanted desperately for him to kiss her.
She’d always been an equal opportunity lover, never believed in waiting for a man to make the first move, never hoped for the chance of pleasure if she could act to take it for herself. But that was sex.
This was seduction.
One she’d never seen coming.
Because how could she have predicted the feel of his calloused hands lighting every inch of her skin on fire so slowly, so sweetly, that she was barely aware of them working on the few small buttons at the top of her long-sleeved shirt so that he could more easily pull it over her head?
And how could she have known that he’d smell even better up close in the dark, a clean all-male scent that had her senses racing to drink it in.
“From the way you talk about the lines and curves of your cars—”
He made his way from one button to the next without so much as grazing her br**sts. She’d known he loved to tease, but she hadn’t realized that trait would transfer over to the bedroom, too.
“—I thought you’d want to see everything.”
It was too dark for her to see more than the faint outline of his shape, but she swore she could feel his smile. “You’re right, I do like looking at pretty things,” he confirmed softly as he moved to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head to let it fall to the ground behind her. “Good thing I have great night vision.”
“I can barely drive in the dark,” she said, knowing she was babbling now, but standing there in only her bra and shorts had her nerves bubbling up all over again.
This time she didn’t have to guess if he was smiling, she could hear it in his low chuckle. The warmth of his laughter washed over her the way it always did and helped settle her down some.
For all the times he had irritated or frustrated her, the truth was she’d always liked being with him. More than she could ever remember enjoying being with a man, which was precisely why she’d made sure they didn’t end up in his bedroom before now. Not without a list of rules and regulations about what was allowable.
Great sex was obviously on the menu. Emotional entanglement wasn’t.
But where, she had to wonder, did seduction fall?
Only, as Zach’s hands spanned her waist before moving to stroke over the taut muscles of her back, she couldn’t hold onto the question.
All she could do was feel.
And, oh, how wonderful was it to have strong hands on her, working deep to relax parts of her that had been tight for so long she hadn’t even been aware they were tense.
“You feel so good, Heather. Just the way I knew you would.”
She could hear the honest appreciation in his voice, knew it didn’t matter if he’d said the same things to a hundred women before her. All that mattered was that he was saying it to her now.
He moved his hands up to her shoulder blades and found a knot that had her almost whimpering as he pressed into it with absolutely zero mercy.
“You don’t take good enough care of yourself,” he admonished in that low voice that made her insides turn to liquid. “You work too hard. And that big mutt of yours is always yanking you around.” He gently spun her around so that her back was to his front and he could dig harder into her shoulders. “He needs to be more careful with you.”
Despite the fact that his massage was turning her to mush, she had to remind him again, “He’s not a mutt, he’s a purebred.”
God no, she wasn’t planning on leaving any-time soon. Heck, she could barely remember the rest of the world existed when she was with him. But boy, would there be trouble if he ever realized that.
His beautiful mouth moved up into a small grin just before he added, “Or are you just in that much of hurry to finally have me?”
“Just ready to be impressed with your patented moves before my next birthday rolls around.”
Any other man would have acted like she’d just called his entire masculinity into question, but not Zach. Instead, he simply continued to grin that way-too-gorgeous grin.
“Box number two it is,” he said as he made a small check mark in the air. “You can’t wait another second to have me.”
Heather would have made it a point to contradict that ridiculously arrogant—and pathetically true—assumption, had it not been for the soft click of Zach closing his door to keep the dogs out of the bedroom. The bedroom lights went off a beat later.
She heard her swift intake of breath as his bedroom went immediately dark. Despite the large windows, the moon was hidden behind a thick layer of fog tonight and her heartbeat ratcheted up even higher.
She’d never much cared for the dark, had never seen the romance, the sexiness, in having the control of her eyesight taken away. Not when it felt like it took away her choices, too. One of her lovers a few years back had wanted to blindfold her, but she hadn’t been even the slightest bit interested.
She worked to fight back her innate panic as she said, “What are you doing?”
Heather couldn’t see Zach in his bedroom, but she could hear him moving slowly toward her from the doorway.
“Getting ready to impress you.”
Why did his voice sound even deeper than usual in the dark...and why couldn’t she stop herself from holding her breath as he came closer and closer?
She’d spent so long in control that even the few moments of standing in an unfamiliar room waiting for Zach to kiss her, touch her, were too long.
She couldn’t keep the slight tremble out of her voice as she said, “Zach, I don—”
Before she could finish admitting to weakness, he was there with his hands on either side of her face, touching her so gently she could hardly believe it was the same man who’d practically been born with a wrench in his hands.
The pads of his thumbs stroked over her lips, whisper soft, and she instinctively opened for him to lick at the tip of one finger. His low groan rumbled through the room, the only sound apart from her breathing.
She was panting even though she was standing perfectly still, but there didn’t seem to be any way to get her breath back when Zach was sliding his hands slowly down from her cheekbones to her neck. She wanted to arch into his hands, but even though his touch was barely skimming the surface of her skin, it was as if he was holding her completely captive.
“Such soft skin,” he murmured, and she wanted to feel the almost reverent words against her lips, wanted desperately for him to kiss her.
She’d always been an equal opportunity lover, never believed in waiting for a man to make the first move, never hoped for the chance of pleasure if she could act to take it for herself. But that was sex.
This was seduction.
One she’d never seen coming.
Because how could she have predicted the feel of his calloused hands lighting every inch of her skin on fire so slowly, so sweetly, that she was barely aware of them working on the few small buttons at the top of her long-sleeved shirt so that he could more easily pull it over her head?
And how could she have known that he’d smell even better up close in the dark, a clean all-male scent that had her senses racing to drink it in.
“From the way you talk about the lines and curves of your cars—”
He made his way from one button to the next without so much as grazing her br**sts. She’d known he loved to tease, but she hadn’t realized that trait would transfer over to the bedroom, too.
“—I thought you’d want to see everything.”
It was too dark for her to see more than the faint outline of his shape, but she swore she could feel his smile. “You’re right, I do like looking at pretty things,” he confirmed softly as he moved to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head to let it fall to the ground behind her. “Good thing I have great night vision.”
“I can barely drive in the dark,” she said, knowing she was babbling now, but standing there in only her bra and shorts had her nerves bubbling up all over again.
This time she didn’t have to guess if he was smiling, she could hear it in his low chuckle. The warmth of his laughter washed over her the way it always did and helped settle her down some.
For all the times he had irritated or frustrated her, the truth was she’d always liked being with him. More than she could ever remember enjoying being with a man, which was precisely why she’d made sure they didn’t end up in his bedroom before now. Not without a list of rules and regulations about what was allowable.
Great sex was obviously on the menu. Emotional entanglement wasn’t.
But where, she had to wonder, did seduction fall?
Only, as Zach’s hands spanned her waist before moving to stroke over the taut muscles of her back, she couldn’t hold onto the question.
All she could do was feel.
And, oh, how wonderful was it to have strong hands on her, working deep to relax parts of her that had been tight for so long she hadn’t even been aware they were tense.
“You feel so good, Heather. Just the way I knew you would.”
She could hear the honest appreciation in his voice, knew it didn’t matter if he’d said the same things to a hundred women before her. All that mattered was that he was saying it to her now.
He moved his hands up to her shoulder blades and found a knot that had her almost whimpering as he pressed into it with absolutely zero mercy.
“You don’t take good enough care of yourself,” he admonished in that low voice that made her insides turn to liquid. “You work too hard. And that big mutt of yours is always yanking you around.” He gently spun her around so that her back was to his front and he could dig harder into her shoulders. “He needs to be more careful with you.”
Despite the fact that his massage was turning her to mush, she had to remind him again, “He’s not a mutt, he’s a purebred.”
