by Allie Kay
Talia rolled her eyes. "I didn't know you were this romantic. But then again, it's not something a girl likes to think about her big brother. I told her, and now I'm telling you, I don't want details."
I nodded. "So where do I go from here? Can I keep up the notes for a while? How do I do something besides notes without letting her know who I am?" Keeping up this ruse was gonna be a full-time job.
Talia tapped her nails on the polished hardwood and stared at me. "Since you're gonna get Sean involved by bringing your secrets into his bar... I have an idea." She called Sean over and filled him in. When she told him her idea, he cracked up but agreed to play along.
A few minutes later, with a solid plan in place, I left the bar, exhausted but smiling. My sister's plan just might work. Of course, Claire could recognize my voice and it all backfire in my face, but it was a chance I was willing to take to get her in my arms again.
9
Claire
Since Z had listed a specific time, I figured there was a good chance he might still be at Garden when I picked up the note. So, at five o'clock, an hour before the scheduled time, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, in the fourth outfit that I tried, still unhappy with how I looked.
"Get a hold of yourself. He might not even be there," I fussed at my reflection.
Finally, I forced myself to leave the apartment, convincing myself that the sixth outfit I chose was fine. I arrived at Garden with five minutes to spare. Taking a seat at the bar, I waited until the hands of my watch ticked up exactly to six.
Waving Sean over, I asked impatiently, "I'm supposed to ask you for a note from Z."
He looked at me with a grin. "Gimme just a sec." Turning back to the bar, he said something to Jack, the other bartender. Jack gave him an odd look, but shrugged and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pouring a couple shots.
"Come with me," Sean said, jerking his head toward the office in the back. He unlocked the office and beckoned me in.
I followed him, wondering what on earth was going on. "Sean..."
"Turn around."
"I don't understand," I murmured, but complied with his request.
"I'm going to blindfold you now. Since your mystery man doesn't want to reveal his identity just yet, you can't see his face. So, blindfold on."
My heart pounded like the hooves of the thoroughbreds I used to love watching when I lived in Louisville, but I nodded and let Sean tie the strip of soft black fabric over my eyes. "How will I know when I can take it off?"
"Have to ask him that."
I sensed, rather than heard, as Sean stepped away. The door clicked shut and I brought a hand up to the blindfold.
"Leave it on," a man spoke behind me.
I spun toward the low voice. "Z?"
"Yes, sweet angel. I'm here." Warm, rough hands picked up mine. "We need to get to know one another a little more before I reveal myself fully. Is this okay?"
"Okay..." I squeezed his hands, the work-roughed callouses making me question my initial thoughts of Z being an anesthesiologist from the hospital. "You don't work at the hospital, do you?"
"No." He laughed. "What gave me away?"
"Your hands..."
"Right. Guess I should have worn gloves." He slid his hands up my arms, grunting at my shudder. "But then gloves wouldn't let me do that and get that reaction, would they?"
I shook my head no. Leaning closer, I reached for him. Hands grabbing at his waist, I found a rough jacket. Canvas maybe? Slipping my hands inside, I untucked his t-shirt and slid my hands beneath it.
"Claire..." his voice deepened in warning. I ought to know his voice. Something about his cadence, his word choice niggled at my consciousness, but with his voice barely above a whisper I just couldn't make a connection. "That's not why I set this up. I actually wanted to talk to you. Get to know you."
"I am getting to know you. Every single inch of you," I replied, voice husky with desire already, running my hands over his sides and pressing my breasts against his chest. This man's simple touch sent me into orbit. He smelled so good I couldn't wait to taste him again. I licked my lips in anticipation.
"Damn it," he groaned. His lips crashed down over mine. His kiss was hard at first, one of his hands fisted in my hair, one clutching my hip roughly. His tongue plunged deep in my mouth and I sighed, allowing it.
That tiny act of submission seemed to catch his attention. Releasing his tight grip on my hip, he slid his hand gently over the curve of my ass and up to my back. The hand tangled in my long hair relaxed and cupped the back of my neck instead.
I clung to him, knees weak with longing as the kiss changed from pure passion to more. Z kissed with an intensity that spoke of long-unrequited desire and a hint of something I didn't recognize. One of us whimpered, but I couldn't be sure which.
He pulled away with a gasp. I could hear the roughness to his breathing as he fought to regain his normal breathing pattern. "You make my head spin."
"Ditto, Zorro." I leaned against him, forehead pressed against his strong shoulder. A racing heartbeat pounded in my ears, but I wasn't sure if it was his or mine. "That was—"
"Boundary breaking?"
"I was going to say earth-shattering." I laughed. "Are we crossing boundaries today?"
"None that we haven't already." His thumb rubbed over my pulse point. "Have to cool down a bit... All the blood in my body is below my belt right now."
I brought one hand up to stroke his beard, the slightly prickly hair moving beneath my fingers. "I'm glad you didn't shave."
"The beard's pretty new. First time I really tried to grow one. I kinda like it. But I'd lose it if you wanted."
"No!" I nearly shouted. "I mean, I like it. Please keep it."
Z chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'll keep it." He tipped my face up and rested his forehead on mine. His minty breath was warm on my kiss-wet lips. "What do you like about the beard?"
"A lot of things. I remember it being sexy as hell at the party. The way it made my toes curl when you were nibbling on my throat outside my apartment. I don't remember a lot from our night together, but I remember thinking while you were licking me that I'd never be with a guy without a beard again."
He grunted—this masculine, satisfied sound that made me itch to take my clothes off right there and see if the beard tickled and teased like I remembered.
"You keep talking about that night and Sean's gonna walk in on me fucking you bent over his desk. You want that?" An anxious yearning in his tone warned how serious he was.
"Over the desk, yes. Sean walking in, no."
Z tilted my head to the side and nipped at my throat. "I'm low on self-control right now. You seem to suck it right out of me."
"I could suck something else..."
"Fuck, angel. I was wrong. You aren't sweet. You are one hundred percent naughty, aren't you?" He pushed me back until the desk dug into the back of my thighs. "We are going to have to go soon. Sean will need his office back."
I released a ragged breath. "Not yet, please."
"No, not just yet. But soon." His lips brushed the tip of my nose. "I hate it too. But Sean might kick my ass over us getting it on right here on his desk."
"Let me take the blindfold off. We can go back to my place... Or yours, if you'd prefer yours. I'm not picky." I wrapped my arms around his neck, tugging his head down so I could kiss him.
"Not yet. Trust me on this. I'll let you know who I am once I'm sure you can handle it."
Once I could handle it... What was that supposed to mean? It had to mean that I knew him, possibly saw him frequently. Something about his voice, his manner of speaking, seemed familiar.
I'd thought maybe I knew, but had to revise that after realizing he didn't work at the hospital. Well, that eliminated more than a few possible suspects.
But just who was he?
10
Zane
I hated telling her no. Hated denying her when she asked for only my name. When she wanted to take me home and she fi
tted so damn perfectly in my arms. But I knew Claire. And Claire would barely give me the time of day. I'd overheard her telling Talia how much I annoyed her... how much she wished I'd stop flirting.
And I had, for a bit. Even tried dating other girls. But damn it, I knew we could really have something, if she'd just get out of her own way and give me a chance. I'd seen the hint of longing in her eyes on occasion. And electricity sparked between us when we touched.
So, I had to make her love me first as Z, as her mysterious secretive lover. Only then could I reveal my true identity. And still I prayed she'd be able to look beyond her past feelings and focus on the love.
But I sure as hell wasn't kidding when I'd said we had to cool off before I got my ass beat for taking her on the desk. My brother-in-law was a big son of a bitch. I wasn't stupid enough to cross him unnecessarily.
Claire brought her hands up to the blindfold and I grabbed them before she could tug it off.
"Nope. Please, just trust me." I kissed her palm. Deliberately keeping my voice barely above a whisper, and throwing in as much of a gravel as I could without making myself cough, I added, "I promise, this is all for a reason."
"Fine. But, I am only giving in under protest." She licked those perfectly delectable lips. "And only if you kiss me again before we have to go."
"Deal." I lifted her up on the desk and moved between her thighs. "But, just in the spirit of fairness, I had full plans to kiss you again without your little bargain."
She wrapped her legs around my waist, nudging me closer. "Prove it."
Challenge accepted. Muscles tight with need, I slid her to the edge of the desk and rocked my hips. Her legs tightened in response.
"Please," she begged. I rocked against her a few times, my cock painful in now too tight jeans.
"You are going to be the death of me," I groaned before bringing my lips down to hers. One hand I slid inside her shirt and flicked my thumb over her already taut nipple. The achy, little moan she released into my mouth sent a spark of awareness down to my cock.
Heart pounding, I struggled to control myself. I had to be careful not to let this go too far. To tempt her enough to keep going with the notes, but not so much she thought me a perv only out to get in her pants.
A stubborn little voice in my head reminded me that I'd already been in her pants and didn't want to be silenced. Breaking the kiss, I groaned and moved down her throat. I needed a taste of her sweet skin to carry me over until next time.
I leaned back slightly and popped one perfect breast out of the neckline of her shirt. She didn't stop me, so I flicked my tongue over the pink bud. Grabbing my head, she urged me closer, so I sucked her nipple into my mouth. Her lips parted with a sigh, her head tilted back, and she arched into my mouth.
Her hands clutched my shoulders as I laved attention on her sensitive tip. She whimpered and her legs tightened around my waist.
Damn, she was perfect. I continued to rock my hips, grinding my hard length against her. Too much fabric separated us. The buttons of her shirt opened easily beneath my hand. I sucked in a deep breath when the fabric parted, opening her soft skin to my vision.
"You are so beautiful," I whispered.
"Please, Z," she cried, trying to pull me close again. And that single letter—Z—ended it for me. Cursing myself for having to play the long game, I dropped my hands away from her delectably soft skin. I pulled her shirt closed and rebuttoned it.
"What are you doing?" she asked. Confusion clouded her voice and I mentally kicked myself for what I was doing.
I nudged her legs down and stepped away. "I have to go. We won't get together again until you are crying my name—my real name—in ecstasy, not a temporary pseudonym."
"So tell me your name."
"Not yet." I pushed down on my hard cock, trying to get it to settle down enough that I could walk. "There is a note on the desk beside you. It will tell you when and where to leave the next note."
Without looking back, I walked stiffly out the door. I nodded at Sean as I went past. When I got to my truck, I didn't get in. I leaned my head against the cold metal.
I had to cool the hell off before I went back into the club. Had to give her time to cool off before I could see her again. Because I wasn't sure I could control myself if she licked those perfect little pink lips, her cheeks flushed with want.
That would require strength I didn't think I had.
11
Claire
When I heard Z's footsteps walking away, I scrambled to get the blindfold off. By the time my eyes were free of the barrier, the office door had clicked shut behind him.
Grabbing the note, I ran out the door, but I couldn't see him. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for bearded hotties. Not that I really knew what to look for beyond that. But no amazingly sexy dark-haired, bearded guys in a canvas jacket stood out.
Damn it!
Walking over to the bar, I grabbed an empty stool. The note in my hand remained unread. A long, ragged sigh broke free and I buried my face in my hands. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to not cry. This whole secret admirer thing was rough on the emotions.
"If the state of your hair is any indication of what went on in my office, I might have someone's ass to kick. I told him to keep his fucking pants on," Sean growled, sliding a soda in front of me.
"Chill out. We both kept our pants on," I said, smoothing a hand over my mussed hair. I met his gaze and added, "Besides, you are the one who messed up my hair with the blindfold."
"Uh... Dude, really, don't make me have to die defending my sister's honor. You can't be fucking around on her with her best friend already. Y'all just got married." Zane sat next to me and glared at the big bartender.
"Fuck you. I would never cheat on your sister. Can't even help someone out without getting into shit for it," Sean grumbled, shaking his head.
I looked over at the bane of my existence—okay, maybe that was a bit harsh, but he annoyed the piss out of me some days—and tucked the note in my pocket to read later without an audience. I rolled my eyes. "Do you have to stick your nose in everyone else's business?"
"Is my sister going to be hurt by whatever this is?" he asked, gaze focused on mine. The little twinkle in his eyes and the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth told me he was only joking.
"Have a beer and relax. Quit letting your overactive imagination get to you," Sean said as he walked back over. He slid a mug across the hardwood to Zane. "Your sister is at home happy, and you know damn well that I have done nothing to make her unhappy. Have I, Claire?"
"Not at all. You know better." I hated the heat rising in my cheeks. Having someone like me was nothing to be embarrassed over. "Sean was just helping me with a secret admirer."
"I'll admire you openly. No need for secrets." He winked and I had to look away.
My stupid heart started fluttering when Zane's smile brightened his face. And when did he grow that beard? Damn it. I was sorta seeing someone else. This attraction to Zane wasn't cool. I shouldn't like it when he flirted with me.
"Go away." I shoved at his shoulder. My fingers grazed the rough canvas of his coat and my gaze flew up to his.
Zane couldn't be my Zorro, could he?
My mouth was suddenly dry as I searched his face. Dark hair, sexy beard... No! My mind raced as I pictured Zane in my bed, in my apartment leaving that note... No, Zane could never pull off those poems, could never be that romantic. My pulse slowed as I reasoned away Zane as the mysterious suitor.
"Wanna dance?" He held out a hand in question.
"No. I want you to go away. I need to talk to Sean without you listening in." I waved at him in dismissal. Hoping Zane didn't notice the shaking of my hand. "Be gone now."
"One dance?"
"Zane, I'm warning you. Leave me alone." I balled up a fist. If he didn't back off...
"No need for all that. I'm going. I'm going." He grabbed his beer and walked down to the other end of the bar.
Zane was s
till watching me when I turned and raised an eyebrow in question to Sean.
"What?" he asked.
"You know what. Who is Z?"
"Couldn't say." Sean shrugged.
"Not couldn't. You can, you just won't." I glared up at him.
"Well, there is that." He grinned. "I will tell you a few things. He's a great guy. Good sense of humor. Knows when to back off."
"And his name is..."
"Loyal. He's loyal as can be."
"Sean!" The big bartender was really starting to piss me off. Why wouldn't he just tell me who Z really was? I slapped a hand down on the polished bar. "Tell me his name."
"Nope. You want another soda?"
"Asshole."
"Been called worse." He picked up the glass and wiped the bar top down. "Another?"
"No." I stood up and stomped away. And who did I run into—literally—at the door, but Zane. I shoved him again. "Stay the hell away from me. I already said no."
I regretted the words when the hurt flickered in his eyes.
"Zane..."
"Nah, I got it. I was just leaving." He held his hands up in surrender and he backed away. "You go ahead. I'll stay and have another beer. Don't want to be accused of following you."
I should apologize. But instead I shook my head and practically ran to the car. My emotions were about to boil over and I couldn't be sure if anger or tears would win out.
12
Zane
I walked back to the bar and waved to get Sean's attention. I stared down at the odd reflections of the light on the polished bar and tried to wrap my head around what had happened.
An icy mug of soda appeared in front of me.
I pushed it back and looked up at my brother-in-law. "I need the hard stuff."
"Nah. It won't make anything better. Trust me on this. Don't let alcohol become your crutch." Sean slid the drink back and leaned down on the other side of the bar. "You been in here a lot lately."