If You Were Mine

“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.”

“Funny,” Zach said as he slid her hair over one shoulder, close enough now that she could feel his warm breath on her exposed neck, “he always answers to mutt. You sure his papers weren’t forged?”

She still couldn’t believe the way her dog had taken to Zach, considering his basic distrust of all men. Then again, animals had a gift for seeing beneath the surface to people’s true natures. They knew how to read a false smile for evil, a seemingly innocuous touch as a dangerous threat...or, conversely, that a man who acted like an island was capable of such warmth and enough sweetness to take her breath away again and again.

Before she realized it, he had the clasp of her bra undone and was working it off her shoulders so that it was falling to the floor to join her shirt. Even in the dark, she wanted to cover up, wanted to lift her hands over her br**sts, though she’d already consented to sleep with Zach.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked, his lips nearly at her earlobe now as he moved closer still to her now half-naked body.

“No.” And it was true. She wasn’t scared.

She was excited.

Beyond excited.

At long last, he pressed his mouth to her skin, brushing his lips against her earlobe, his tongue barely making contact before he asked, “Then why are you trembling?”

“I have sensitive ears,” she told him.

“Good to know.” He pressed another soft kiss just below her earlobe this time, before saying, “Anywhere else I should know about that’s sensitive?”

Oh God.

Until now, she’d felt like she’d been able to pit herself against Zach Sullivan as an equal. But that was before they’d entered his bedroom...where she quite clearly didn’t stand a chance of being anything but putty in his big, strong, all-knowing hands.

Still, she had to keep trying to stay toe-to-toe with him, didn’t she? Otherwise, how would she possibly be able to respect herself in the morning?

“Maybe we should turn the lights back on and I’ll draw you a map.”

“Such a sassy mouth,” he murmured. “Makes me think I should put it to better use.”

It should have been enough warning for her to brace herself for his kiss, but when he slid one hand into her hair and turned her face so that he could reach her mouth with his, she couldn’t do anything but gasp at the extreme pleasure of having his mouth on hers again.

For how gentle his hands had been—and still were—the wildness of his kiss told her a different story.

He wanted her. Badly. And as his tongue thrust against hers, she was glad to be able to finally unleash all the passion, the desire, she’d been holding in check since the first moment she’d met him.

She tried to turn into his arms, wanted to press her bare chest up against his, wanted to know if he was as hard, as hot, as she’d dreamt he would be. But instead of letting her move against him, he slid one hand around her waist and held her against him like that, back to front. And, strangely, instead of wanting to fight his hold, instead of feeling like he was controlling her, she felt the exact opposite.

Felt the comfort, the safety of knowing he wasn’t going to let her fall. And accepted, in this one instance at least, that he knew precisely how to lead them both straight to pure pleasure.

Her shorts were falling to her feet before she even realized he’d undone the button and zipper. Shocked by how easy it was to get lost in his kisses, she pulled her mouth from his.