"When you said you wanted to take me home, I thought you meant to my place."

Zach grinned at her then pushed the door open and motioned her through. "I changed my mind."

Haley frowned but didn't say anything as she entered the dark apartment. A light came on, making her squint in the sudden brightness. Then she looked around, disappointment welling inside her. No wonder he wanted to bring her here—this place was a thousand times better than her shitty little place.

A gleaming black-lacquered ceiling fan hung from the cathedral ceiling, its blades slowly spinning, circulating the warm air around the large room. The apartment—actually, it was a condo, which was a big difference—boasted an open floor plan, with the living room melding into the dining room, which opened into a spacious kitchen filled with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and black granite countertops. The monochromatic color scheme carried over into everything she could see: pale hardwood floors, bleached nearly white; a thick white area rug, starkly bright against the black leather sofa and recliner. Another area rug—this one sporting a black and white abstract design—was placed under the black lacquered dining room table. Four matching chairs surrounded it, the stark black broken only by the plush white seat cushions.

Even the artwork was black and white, a collection of ink drawings artistically arranged on each wall.

Haley's first thought was that the décor surprisingly fit Zach: clean, sharp, defined. Straightforward with no frills or extras. Her second thought was how in the hell did he keep it so clean?

He stepped past her and moved to the kitchen, pausing to drop a small duffel bag on the dining room table. "You want anything to drink?"

"No."

"You sure? The fridge is pretty well-stocked."

"I'm sure. Thanks anyway."

He shrugged and pulled a beer out, uncapped it and took a long swallow. His gaze never left hers. "You can have a seat if you want. Make yourself comfortable."

"I think I'm afraid to touch anything."

"Why?"

"Because it's—" She hesitated, searching for the right word. "It's white. And clean."

Zach laughed, the sound rich and warm and doing things to her insides she didn't expect. "What? You thought I was a pig or something?"

"No, not that. I just—I was expecting something different, I guess."

"Modern isn't exactly your thing, huh?"

"More like it isn't in my price range."

He laughed again. It took a second for Haley to realize what suddenly seemed so different about him—he was relaxed. At ease. She had never really noticed the slight air of tension that surrounded him before, wouldn't have noticed it now if not for the simple fact that it wasn't there. Almost like he was a different person.

No, that wasn't right. He was still the same person—annoying, frustrating, terminally constipated. He was just more at ease now. Well, yeah—this was his home, after all. Why wouldn't he be relaxed and at ease?

"You look like you're deep in thought."

"No, not really."

"Hm. If you say so." He took another long swallow of beer, the muscles in his strong throat working. Haley looked away before he caught her staring and wondered if her face was as red as it felt. Really? She was actually getting turned on by his throat?

She needed help. Either that, or she was more tired than she realized. That must be it. It had been a long day. A busy day. Plus that whole incident with Jimmy. It was a miracle that she wasn't swaying on her feet from exhaustion.

"You want the grand tour?"

"You mean there's more?"

"Not much but yeah." He placed the bottle on the counter then walked toward her, his hand outstretched. Haley hesitated for a quick second then took it, surprised at the way her heart sped up when his fingers closed around hers.

"Like I said, it's not much. Just two bedrooms and two bathrooms."

"Two bedrooms?" Haley tried to keep the surprise from her voice. "Let me guess—one of them is a weight room."

"No, the weight room is downstairs. It's actually a bedroom." He led her down the hall and through an open door, palming the switch against the wall. Soft light flooded a room that was bigger than her bedroom and bathroom combined and she gasped. It wasn't just the size that surprised her—she knew her apartment was small by anyone's standards. It was the way it was decorated, in pale peaches and minty greens and soft, feminine touches.

Haley stiffened, a hundred different thoughts spinning in her head. It was definitely a room designed for a woman, from the gentle flowing design on the comforter to the arrangements of dried flowers sitting on the nightstands and dresser. Why the hell would Zach have a spare room for a woman? Did he have that many female guests over?

That didn't make sense. Wouldn't his special guests stay in his room? Of course they would. Maybe.

And maybe she was jumping to a thousand different conclusions she had no business jumping to. It wasn't her business, Zach could do whatever he wanted and—

"This is where my mom stays when she comes to visit. The decorating in here was all her doing."

"Oh. Your mom."

"Yeah, my mom." Zach looked at her, a small grin teasing his mouth. "Who'd you think it was for, Red?

"I don't know. Your harem? Not that it's any of my business, I mean."

"My harem." Zach rolled his eyes and reached out to turn off the light. "You're killing me, Red. First, I don't have a harem, although your opinion of my prowess is just as flattering as it is insulting. And second, if I did have a harem, I certainly wouldn't be bringing them here. Not a single bunny has ever stepped through that front door."

"Hm." Haley didn't know what to say. He sounded like he was teasing her, but she thought she caught a hint of annoyance and maybe even hurt in his voice. No, that had to be her imagination. Just one more thing she could blame on being so tired.

He led her across the hall and into another bedroom, turning on the light without a word. Haley blinked, looked around then blinked again, certain she was seeing things.

Her mind struggled for the right word, finally settled on opulent. Only that wasn't exactly right, either. Words failed her. How could she even begin to describe the room, with its massive bed and small sitting area, all decorated in a dozen shades of gray and navy? And holy crap, was she seeing things? She turned back to Zach, knowing her mouth was hanging open in shock and unable to do anything about it.

"You have a fireplace in your bedroom?"

"Pretty cool, huh?" He led her deeper into the room then dropped her hand and moved over to the fireplace. He flipped a switch and flames jumped to life, casting a warm glow around the room. "It's only a gas fireplace, not a real wood one. But it's pretty nice."

"Nice? Uh, yeah. That's one word for it." She looked around, still not believing her eyes. If she had a place like this, she'd never leave home. Of course, if she didn't leave home, she wouldn't be able to afford a place like this.

Who was she kidding? No matter how many hours she worked, she'd never in a million years come close to affording something like this. She probably couldn't even afford the utilities.

"So you, uh, you actually own this? I mean, it's not an apartment you can rent, right?"

"Why? Thinking of moving?"

"Yeah, right. Not even."

"To answer your question, yes, I bought it a few years ago, right after I was certain this whole hockey thing was going to work out. And no, it wasn't as much as you're thinking it was. I got a deal on it because it was all new construction. I'm not sure I'd buy now because the price has jumped up."

"What did you mean about the whole hockey thing working out?"

"Just what I said. For every player in my position, there are dozens more who never make it to this spot. And then there are even more who won't make it past this spot—including me."

"I don't understand."

Zach watched her for a few minutes then closed the space between them and captured her hand. He led her over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, holding her in place between his legs. Haley stiffened, almost pulled away, but the expression in his eyes held her in place. Was it sadness maybe? No, she must be seeing things. Maybe it was more resignation than anything else.

"Every single player who's where I am now wants to move up and go pro. Not everyone makes it."

"But I thought you were a pro."

"No, not me. I'm semi-pro. And that's probably where I'll stay. I'm good, but not that good. Will I get called up here and there? Yeah, maybe. But I'll never make it all the way."

"That's—" She hesitated, searching for the right word. "That's depressing as hell."

Zach chuckled, the sound soft and warm. His hands trailed along her back, cupped her ass and pulled her closer. "Does it make you feel sorry for me?"

"Maybe. Yeah. A little."

"Enough to sleep with me tonight?"

"Oh God, you are such a jerk!" She pushed away, trying to swallow her own laughter, but Zach caught her hand and tumbled back onto the bed, pulling her with him. She sprawled on top of him, his strong arms locking around her waist and holding her in place. His body was hard under hers, all strength and muscle and raw, quiet power. But she wasn't afraid, knew that he'd let her go if she asked, if she just pushed against him the slightest bit.

Haley didn't push away.

His eyes softened, turning into dark pools of liquid warmth that silently beckoned. Zach shifted, raised one hand and ran his fingers through her hair. Large hands. Strong hands.

And gentle. So gentle.

"Are you tired?" His voice was low, the words holding just a hint of hope.

"A little."

"Did you want to go to sleep now?"

Haley shook her head, unable to look away. Could he feel the way her heart pounded in her chest? A steady thump thump thump that raced even faster each second he watched her. Could he feel the way her body heated against his? Growing warm, melting against him. Seeking. Searching. Trembling.

She shook her head again. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips before she finally answered. "No. No, I don't want to go to sleep."

A small smile teased his mouth. He cradled the back of her head with the palm of his hand and drew her down, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. Slow. So slow and warm, like he had all the time in the world. Like the most important thing he had to do was kiss her, that nothing else mattered except her.

She moaned, the sound nothing more than a breathy sigh when his tongue swept into her mouth and danced with hers. This was different from the other night, less frantic, less playful.

But no less intense. No—it was even more intense. Heat flared inside her, the slow burn erupting into a raging inferno that threatened to burn her alive. She shifted, straddling him, and pressed her hips against his. Another moan escaped her at the feel of his hard length between her legs, at the sudden need that exploded to life inside her. Desperate, intense, powerful.

Zach's hands slid along her back, dragging her sweater higher. His fingers caught the strap of her bra, swiftly unhooked it and pushed it out of his way.

Haley tore her mouth from his, heard him groan when she pushed to her knees. His hands closed over her hips, holding her in place as he pressed against her. She sighed then pulled the sweater over her head, tossed it and her flimsy bra on the floor behind her.

Zach's gaze dropped to her chest, his eyes so focused, so intent, that she started to cross her arms in front of her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to her sides, his eyes boring into hers.

"Don't even think about it, sweetheart."

"They're not—" She hesitated, swallowed, looked away as embarrassment heated her face. "I'm not very big."

"You're perfect." He released one hand, dragged the tips of his fingers along her side then cupped one small breast in his hand. A gasp escaped her, heat shooting through her at his touch. Spreading, coiling. Liquid fire pooled between her legs and she pressed herself closer against him, her body seeking the relief only he could give her.

He rolled the tight peak of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, grazed the tip with his nail. Another gasp escaped her, this one even sharper as her body tightened in response.

Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know how sensitive her breasts were? How close she was to exploding, just from the way he was touching them? Most guys didn't, had never bothered to waste their time because she was so small.

But Zach wasn't most guys. Not even close.

Or maybe he was, because he lowered his hand, leaving her feeling empty. She swallowed her disappointment, forced her eyes open and looked down at him. The naked heat in his eyes seared her, holding her gaze when she wanted to do nothing more than look away.

He shifted so fast, she didn't realize what he was doing until she was on her back, under him. No, not under him, not really. He was kneeling beside her, his hands undoing the button and zipper of her jeans. He climbed out of bed, standing by her feet to pull off her boots and socks, then yanked her jeans down.

She pushed up on her elbows, her hungry gaze raking each inch of his body as he shed his own clothes. Broad shoulders, broad chest, the sculpted lines accented by the bold strokes of his tattoos. An eagle, its proud wings stretched across his chest. A griffin, its forepaws extended, spread across his lower ribs. A wolf's head, strikingly rendered in black ink, guarded his right hip.

Her gaze moved lower, to the thin line of dark hair that ran from his abdomen, down to the hard length of his thick erection, standing proud, begging for attention. Haley shifted, pushed to her knees, reached out and closed her hand around his hard length. Zach's body stilled, his breath leaving him in a rush as she stroked him, long and hard. She pressed light kisses along his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos with her tongue. Lower, lower still.

Zach's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her away before her mouth closed over him. His mouth descended on hers, hot and hard and demanding. "Not yet, Haley. Not yet."

She frowned, not understanding when he pulled away. Not understanding when he guided her to her back. He turned away, dug through the nightstand, then tossed something on the bed next to her. Haley looked closer, frowned, then started laughing when she realized it was a pile of condoms.

An extremely generous pile.

"Pretty sure of yourself there, aren't you?"

"You know me, Red—always an optimist." The mattress dipped as he climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her. She raised her head, expecting his mouth to crash over hers, then swallowed back her disappointment when he shook his head. A small smile teased his mouth.

"Not yet."

"I don't—"

"Trust me."

Haley stiffened. Trust? What was he talking about? What did he expect her to do? He must have seen the worry cross her face, must have sensed her tension, because he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against the corner of her mouth.

"Just relax, Red. Close your eyes and enjoy."

"I don't—"

"Relax. And any time you want me to stop, all you have to do is say stop."

She watched him for a long minute, uncertainty warring with caution. What was he going to do? Did she trust him enough to do as he said?

Yes, she did. She didn't know why, knew it made no sense, but she did trust him. Haley finally nodded, took a deep breath, then let her head fall back against the downy pillow and closed her eyes.

And waited.

Something light brushed against her inner thigh, the touch gentle, almost hesitant. Zach's finger, the tip barely grazing the sensitive flesh of her thigh, trailing up from her knee. Closer, so close. Haley sighed, her legs spreading, her hips rolling, searching for his touch.

Another touch, one that caused her back to arch on a short gasp of surprise. Zach's mouth, hot and wet and wicked, closing over one breast. His tongue swirled around the hard peak of her nipple as he sucked. Licking, pulling.

Haley gasped again, her hands digging into the comforter, clutching the smooth material in her tight fists. Muscles pulled tight, liquid pooling between her legs, her hips rocking.

Another touch against her other breast. Warm and callused, the fingers of Zach's free hand teasing. Touching. Pinching. And oh God, it was too much. Too much, not enough. She was close, so close—and he hadn't even touched her yet, his other fingers were still trailing along her inner thigh, almost an afterthought to what he was doing with each breast.

"Zach. Zach, please..." She gasped again, dug her heels into the mattress and lifted her hips. Searching, seeking, blind with need.

He pulled his mouth from her breast, gently blew on it. Hot, cold, the sensations swirling through her, pushing her closer. His voice, so close to her ear, low and throaty.

"You are so fucking hot, Haley. I want to watch you come. I want to watch you shatter, just from my touch against you."

God yes. He knew her secret, had learned—in the course of one night—what drove her crazy. He palmed her breast again, squeezing, his thumb grazing the hard tip over and over. Flicking, pulling, teasing—

Muscles pulled tight. Tighter, drawing together deep inside. Slow. Slower, holding her suspended on the brink, teasing her. Taunting her. Then faster, crashing together, exploding as her climax washed over her in strong waves, threatening to tear her apart, leaving her screaming and gasping for air.

The mattress dipped and swayed under her. Whispered words, hoarse and guttural, reached her ears, the sound meaningless in the onslaught slamming against her.

And then Zach was there, his arms anchoring her, saving her. He drove into her, filling her, sending her soaring once more. Crashing, falling.

No, not falling.

Flying.

She clung to him, pressed her mouth against the damp flesh of his neck, and let him guide her to a dizzying height that had only existed in her dreams.