If You Were Mine

But none of her fantasies had done their first kiss justice. There was no way she could have ever imagined it taking place in a deserted alley, with Zach’s strong muscles pressing her into a cement wall, his hips against hers, his large hands sliding into her hair.

And, oh God, the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue slipped and slid against hers...she was lost to sensation, to the insatiable greed to take more of the forbidden fruit she’d been craving body and soul.

“Heather.” He groaned her name against her lips, then began to alternately nip at her lower lip, then lave over the small bites, as if a simple kiss wasn’t enough when what he really wanted was to devour her.

She knew she should be pushing him away, that she should keep fighting their connection out of sheer self-preservation, but her body simply refused to follow that intelligent dictate.

Instead, she was wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. She wanted him closer, needed more. She’d never felt like this with anyone else—completely out of control, already way out on the edge from nothing more than one incredibly potent kiss.

Yes, she knew she should stop, that she should be pushing him away and telling him it could never happen. Only, in a moment of more perfect connection with Zach than she’d ever thought to have with a man, she found herself deepening the kiss instead.

Leaving one hand in her hair, he began to run the other slowly down the side of her body. She nearly cried out into his mouth when he slid over—and past—the curve of her breast on the way to cup her hip with his palm. He didn’t stop until he had curved his palm around her thigh, bared beneath the hem of her shorts.

God, the feel of his hand on her skin was shockingly good. And she was even more shocked when he lifted her leg up around his hip, but not enough that she thought to stop him from taking that leverage to move in closer to the heated vee between her legs.

Heather had always enjoyed the purely physical release of sex, but it had never been intense enough for her to forget herself, to lose track of what she believed in. Anyone could come out the side door and find them here like this, practically having sex against the wall. They were still fully clothed, but even so, she felt as if Zach had already stripped her bare.

She tried to pull herself out of the abyss, oh, how she tried, but when he started to rain kisses down across her jaw and found that super-sensitive spot just at the underside of her chin, how could she do anything but let her head fall back against the wall, and drink in every exquisite sensation of his mouth on her skin? His rough stubble scraped at her in the most delicious way and she used her leg hooked over his hip to pull him in even closer.

Any and all protests she might have given him—or herself—had flown out the window, and she was threading her fingers into his dark hair when something pulled at her wrist once, then twice, hard enough the third time to finally jolt her.

“The dogs,” she managed in a breathless voice as she tried to catch hold of her racing heart. While she and Zach had been lost in their kiss, the dogs’ leashes had tangled up around each other and their owners, too. “We need to untangle them.”

Zach very reluctantly let go of her leg before snapping, “Cuddles, quit moving!” in a frustrated voice as he bent down to unclip the leash and scoop the puppy up in his arms.

“It’s not her fault,” she told him as she worked to pull the leashes apart with shaky hands. “We shouldn’t have been doing that here.” As if the location were the only problem with their kiss. “We shouldn’t have been doing that anywhere at all,” she quickly clarified.

Only, the truth was that if the dogs hadn’t been there with them, Zach probably would have stripped her clothes off while he kissed her up against the wall. And instead of trying to stop him, she would have been begging him to hurry so she could get closer.

So she could have more.

“It’s exactly what we should have been doing,” he snapped at her.

His frustration shook the breathlessness right out of her. After all, as she reminded herself yet again, she wasn’t a teenager who couldn’t control her raging hormones.

“This isn’t even about me,” she snapped back. “You just want me because I’m a challenge.”

“Wrong,” he shot back. “I want you because I want you. From the first second I saw you, I’ve wanted you, Heather.”

How did he manage to turn her insides to goo? First with his kiss, then with his words.

Still, she had to hold her ground. “You and Brant were fighting over me like I was that bone you sent Atlas.”

“I was fighting for you because you’re mine.”

Her eyes widened at his possessive declaration. “I’ll never belong to a man.”

For the first time, he didn’t launch back at her with a quick retort. Instead, she felt him stop. Look. Assess.

“What,” he said in a suddenly soft voice, “are you afraid of? Is it me? Or is it you?”

It was the very last thing she’d expected him to say. And even as her brain flooded with answers ranging from falling for you to everything, she said, “I’m not afraid.”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t call her on her fib. Instead, he said, “Prove it.”

She lifted her chin. “I know what you’re doing. I know that whatever way you come up with for me to prove it to you is going to be for your good and your good only.”

He actually had the nerve to reach for her again, to slide the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. And, fool that she was, she craved his touch enough to let him.