If You Were Mine
“I had so many plans for a Sunday alone with you,” he murmured against her mouth when he finally let her up for air. “My buddy Tommy just screwed them all up.”
Heather had to work hard—really hard—to keep from showing her own disappointment that he had to leave already. She hadn’t planned to spend any part of the weekend with him, but after the way Friday night had turned into Saturday morning and then was repeated all over again Saturday night, she’d started to get used to having him around. Enough, at least, that a Sunday together wouldn’t have killed her.
She almost asked him where he needed to rush off to, but it was the kind of thing a girlfriend needed to know. Not a sex buddy like her.
Fortunately, he told her anyway. “Tommy was a good friend of my father’s. My dad taught me how to build an engine, and then Tommy showed me how to drive one real fast.” He was pressing soft kisses along the underside of her jaw as he spoke. “His doctor wouldn’t sign off on him to get into the car this time around and he needs someone to sub for him in a race on Monday morning. I’ve got to get to Southern California by this afternoon to do some practice runs with the crew.”
Of course he raced cars, she thought. A man like Zach wouldn’t be content with just being a business mogul. It wouldn’t be enough that he could slay at least half the human population just by glancing in their direction. He would need the rush of testing the limits of the fast cars he built, too. And she had a pretty good sense that he wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, that those kinds of fears wouldn’t hold him back the way they might with other people.
But just thinking about Zach getting into a race car and driving real fast had her heart pounding. What if he got hurt? What if these past few days with him were the only ones she ever got to have?
She was surprised to realize the scars on her arms were tingling, like a mainline from her emotions to her body.
Working to sound like it was no big deal, she asked, “How long have you been racing?”
Just because she was sleeping with him didn’t mean his grin had any less impact. If anything, it hit her even harder now. Because she knew how fast that grin could bend into a sensual look that melted down her should-stay-icy core.
“Pretty much since the day I got my driver’s license.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said, but then couldn’t stop herself from adding, “but isn’t it dangerous?”
His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite read before he shrugged. “We’re going close to 200 miles per hour. Of course it’s dangerous.”
Her fingers itched to smack him for his devil-may-care response. “I’m sure your family would be really upset if anything happened to you.”
His eyes narrowed on her as if he knew she was really saying she would be really upset if anything happened to him. But instead of calling her on acting more like a possessive girlfriend than she had any right to be given their arrangement, he said, “You should come. I’ll strap you in real tight and take you for a ride.”
Just that fast, the wicked glint in his eyes got her heart to racing for reasons that had nothing to do with his getting hurt in a speeding car.
Both a shiver of need and a thrill at the thought of letting loose in a speeding car were there as she teased, “You just like the idea of strapping me into something.”
He abruptly stood up with her in his arms and carried her over to the massage table. “Unfortunately, there are no bindings on this, but I’m sure we can improvise.” She tried to clutch the robe to her chest but he quickly had it off her shoulders. “Ready for your massage?”
Her breath was already coming too fast and her mouth felt dry as she said, “Don’t you need to go race a fast car?”
“I promised you a massage first, and I always make good on my promises.”
She tried not to read too much into his talk of promises. It was just sexy talk. He was being playful, the way he usually was. People threw around a lot of words they didn’t mean when they were having really awesome sex with one another.
“In that case, I’m not going to turn down the offer,” she said in a deliberately light voice. “How do you want me?”
His eyes darkened with desire at her provocative question. “Let’s start with you on your stomach.”
Trying not to feel self-conscious about being completely naked on the padded massage table, she got into position. He left the room for a moment, and when he came back to stand in front of her, she looked down at his bare feet through the hole in the padded head rest. She wasn’t surprised to note that his bare feet were as perfect as the rest of him.
“Usually the masseuse puts a sheet over me.”
“I sure as hell hope so,” he growled as she suddenly smelled lavender. “You’d better never let any else see you like this.”
He was the most possessive man she’d ever met. But any protests she might have made about no one owning her but herself were lost in a moan of sheer bliss as his hands began to massage her shoulders.
“I thought sex with you was the best thing I’d ever felt, but this might actually be better.”
She was so lost in the throes of the sweet pleasure of Zach’s hands breaking down her stiff muscles that it wasn’t until he said, “The best thing you’ve ever felt, huh?” that she realized what she’d just admitted.
“Massages are worse than drugs for me,” she improvised, the way he was touching her making her words surprisingly true. “I get loopy and say things I don’t mean.”