Unwarranted? No.
But maddening? Yes. A million times yes.
As we walked, hand-in-hand, down the hall toward the elevators, I gave a final glance over my shoulder. "But what about your room across from mine?"
"What about it?"
"You weren't really sleeping there, were you?"
"Hell no."
"So what were you doing?"
"Watching to make sure that fucker didn't bother you."
Insane or not, a warm, happy glow settled over my heart. But too soon, I recalled something that Carla had told me just this morning. "But what about Tiffany?"
"What about her?"
I glanced away. "I, uh, heard she stayed in your room last night."
"You mean my suite? Yeah. She stayed there."
My steps faltered. Crap.
But then, Zane spoke again. "But I didn't."
"Really? Why not?"
He squeezed my hand. "You've gotta ask?"
I felt myself smile. "So what happened? Were you doing her a favor? Like in case the senator got belligerent or something?"
"No," he said. "I was doing me a favor."
"What do you mean?"
"If the senator showed up at their room, I had someone waiting."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I wanted to talk to him." An edge crept into Zane's voice. "Without an audience."
That sounded vaguely ominous. I gave a nervous laugh. "Without a witness, you mean."
"Something like that."
Now, I just had to know, "What were you planning to say?"
"Nothing I want to repeat."
"Oh, please," I said. "There's nothing you could say that would shock me."
We'd just reached the elevators, and he turned to face me. "You think so, huh?"
As I looked up to meet his gaze, everything else faded into the background. In his eyes, I saw the promise of secrets and surprises, and all sorts of things that shouldn’t be discussed in public.
Without breaking eye-contact, he reached to his side and hit the button to summon the next elevator going up. While waiting, he pulled me close and nuzzled my neck.
Into my ear, he whispered, "You're mine. You know that, right?"
If he meant to shock me, he'd definitely succeeded. I pulled back to study his face. He actually looked serious.
But what did that mean? His for one night? For a weekend? For longer? Or was it just a pretty thing to say?
I might've asked, if only a sudden ding didn't break the spell. I turned to see the doors slide open, revealing an elevator that was already crammed with people.
And everyone was staring.
At Zane.
Not me.
Thank heaven.
Oblivious to the attention, Zane guided me into the elevator and wrapped an arm around my waist as we turned to face the front. Together, we ignored the whispers behind us as the elevator carried us upward to whatever would happen next.
With every stop, the space became more sparsely populated, until it was just him and me. He was behind me now, cradling me against him as I watched the numbers climb until they reached the penthouse level.
He pulled away and took my hand, leading me out of the elevator and into the posh hallway beyond. I didn't know how many suites were up here, but I did know that the doors on this floor were spaced much farther apart than they had been below.
With every step, I was feeling more nervous – but not so nervous that I wanted to turn back. In hopes of breaking the tension, I said, "Wanna hear something funny?"
Before he could even respond, I plunged onward, "Charlotte thinks you dragged me to New York because of Professor Lumberjack."
He gave a gentle tug on my hand. "Dragged you, huh?"
I gave him a tug right back. "Oh, you know what I mean." At the memory, I had to laugh. "After all, you didn't give me a whole lot of advance notice."
When Zane said nothing in reply, I said, "But she's crazy, right?"
Almost to himself, Zane said, "Not any crazier than Fergus O'Neal."
My steps faltered. "Wait, how'd you know his last name?" I stopped walking and turned to face him. "I didn't even know his last name. Is it really O'Neal?"
Zane gave a tight shrug, but made no reply.
I didn’t know whether to smile or frown. "Oh come on. Tell me."
"All right. You want the truth? He's your roommate's boyfriend, right?"
"You know he is." I studied Zane's face. "In fact, I'm wondering if you know more than I do."
"All I know is this." Zane squeezed my hand. "I couldn't leave you alone with those people."
"What do you mean?"
"The guy has access to your house."
"So?"
"So, I didn't want you sleeping – or hell – even walking around where he could get to you."
It was so sweet and so crazy that I didn't know what to think. "Wait a minute," I said. "Was that the reason you wouldn't let me leave the office to pack?"
He gave me a wry smile. "No comment."
I couldn’t help but smile back. "Hey, that's my line."
"Not anymore."
This much was true. And the strangest thing was, I wasn't nearly as disappointed as I thought I'd be. I had to admit, Zane was right. Whatever happened next would change our work relationship forever.
In truth, it was already changed. There was no going back now – not that I would if I could.
He reached out and took my other hand in his. "Jane, listen..." He gave both of my hands a tender squeeze. "I don't want you going back there."
"Back where?"
"To your house."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, because I don't trust those people."
I tried to laugh. "Yeah, me neither."
"And, for another. You don't belong with them." His gaze was warm, and his voice was a caress. "You belong with me."
My lips parted, but I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure what he was getting at, but I didn't have time to dwell on it, because soon, his lips sealed mine with a kiss so tender, and so amazing that I could hardly think, much less speak.
That was fine by me. I didn't want to think, or even talk. I wanted to feel more of this – more of him. More of everything. And yes, I wanted to feel him inside me.
Like now.
Chapter 56
Together, we practically fell through the door to his suite. Already, I was desperate for him – wet and ready, even though all we'd done was kiss.
In the back of my mind, I still couldn’t believe that I was doing this. And yet, I knew that not doing this was too impossible to consider.
I was in his arms, and his lips were on mine. The door swung shut behind us, and I gave a shiver of anticipation.
Zane pulled back to ask, "Are you cold? Want me to turn on the heat, or—"
A nervous giggle escaped my lips. "Actually, I'm pretty hot already."
He pulled farther back and gave me a long, appreciative look. "Got that right."
He had to be kidding. Belatedly, it occurred to me that I was still wearing the same clothes that I'd worn all day around the city. Probably, I should've changed, but at the time, I'd been in such a hurry to be with him that I hadn't even thought of it.
I glanced down at my wrinkled shirt and shorts. "I probably should've gotten freshened up, huh?"
But Zane was already shaking his head. "You're perfect just the way you are."
"Perfect? Now, I know you're joking."
"No joke," he said, looking surprisingly sincere.
I had to laugh. "Oh come on. Are you seriously telling me that I don't look like I need a shower and fresh clothes?"
He gave me a slow, secret smile. "Hey, I've got a shower."
Yes. He did. Actually, he probably had more than one, with multiple shower heads and everything. But that wasn't the thing that set my pulse jumping.
It was the look in his eye. It was a look that told me I wouldn’t need to shower alon
e, not unless I wanted to.
And I definitely didn't want to.
Almost in a trance, I felt myself nod. To what, I wasn't even sure. The shower? Him? Both?
"And," he said, "who says you need clothes?"
I heard myself whisper, "Not me."
In spite of my best intentions, we never did make it to the shower.
In fact, we barely made it to the bed. It all happened so suddenly. One moment, we were standing there, like two regular people, with a decent amount of self-control.
And then, I reached for his shirt. And he reached for the buttons on mine. I tugged his shirt upward and savored the sight of his rock-hard abs with all their valleys and ridges.
Suddenly, I was desperate to see more. I moved my hands higher, taking more of his shirt with me as I went. Soon, it was over his head, and then, tossed onto the floor, giving me a nice close view of his upper torso.
Oh. My. God.
I felt my lips part, and my breath catch. I might've looked longer, except soon, something even more compelling claimed my attention. It was his lips on mine and his arms pulling me close.
His lips were full and oh-so sweet as they moved against mine, teasing and promising, just like the telltale hardness I could feel pressing against me through his jeans.
I wanted him like I'd never wanted anything else in my whole life. And if he were any other guy, I might've believed that he felt exactly the same way.
But like so many other things, that was too ridiculous for words, so I didn't dwell on it or let it consume me, even as he kissed and caressed me all the way to the bedroom, removing clothing as we went – a shirt here, shorts there, his jeans along the way, and socks who-knows-where.
Almost before I knew it, we'd tumbled onto the king-size bed, with me in my bra and panties, and him only in his briefs.
Already, I was finding it hard to breathe. I reached for his hardness, only to feel him pull back, leaving my hand way too lonely.
In a teasing tone, he said, "Remember the reason for going out?"
Already, I was so lost, I could hardly think. But then, I remembered. "You mean so you'd behave?"
He gave a slow nod. "And the rule still applies."
"What? Who said anything about rules?"
"Me." He ran a smooth hand over my bare skin. "You're like a present, and I want to unwrap you nice and slow." With that, he lowered his head and brushed his lips softly against my ear and then moved his lips downward, kissing his way to my throat and lower still, toward the center of my breasts.
With warm fingers, he nudged aside the lace of my bra and took a nipple into his mouth. His mouth was warm, and his tongue was enticing, teasing me to distraction, even as his hand trailed enticingly toward the intersection of my thighs.
I was beyond wet and craving him like I'd craved nothing else during my twenty-three years on this Earth. When his fingers grazed that special spot, I gave a moan of pure pleasure laced with frustration – pleasure because it felt too good for words, and frustration because I wanted him inside me like ten minutes ago.
He lifted his head and looked down toward his fingers. In a low, seductive voice, he said, "I like your panties."
I almost wanted to giggle. "You should. I'm pretty sure you bought them."
"Did I?"
"Maybe." My mind was growing fuzzier with every stroke of his finger. Somehow, I managed to say, "You should probably take them off and check."
"Or," he said, with a particularly enticing stroke, "I could watch you squirm like you've made me squirm."
If I weren't so breathless, I might've laughed. Zane Bennington, squirm? "Oh, please. You're so full of it."
"You think so, huh?"
Honestly, I was finding it hard to think at all.
It didn't help when he slipped his finger beneath my panties and then inside me. I was so hot and so wet that I literally ached for him, even as a second finger joined the first, and his thumb danced across my swollen clit.
I heard myself whisper, "I want you."
"I know."
"What?" Even as breathless as I was, I made a move to sit up, but gently, he pushed me back onto the bed. With a smile, he said, "Where do you think you're going?"
Already, his fingers were moving again. All I could say was, "Nowhere."
"Damn straight," he said. "Wanna know what I want?"
I only prayed it was me. Because if it wasn't, I was in serious trouble. Somehow, I managed to ask, "What?"
"I want to take you hard and fast…"
That sounded so good. I gave a little moan of encouragement.
And then, he said, "But not yet…"
My breath caught. "You are such a tease."
"So are you."
"Me? No way."
He leaned his mouth close to mine and whispered. "Yes." He grazed his lips across my mine, teasing me even now. You know what it's been like, wanting you, thinking of you, watching you, and knowing that I couldn’t have you?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded oh so good – and eerily familiar, because there was a part of me – a very shameless part of me – that had been feeling the same way for longer than I'd ever admit, even to myself.
But I refused to dwell on that now, because this had been one of the most wonderful days of my life, and it was getting better with every stroke, every whispered word, every motion of his fingers as they made love to me on that giant bed of his.
And then, just when I thought I couldn't wait another minute, he was tugging down my panties, even as I frantically worked to free his body from his briefs. Soon, he was poised above me, with his thumb still in motion, and his gaze on mine.
I reached between us, guiding his massive hardness to my opening, and then gave a moan of contentment when he finally entered me, claiming me like he'd already claimed the world.
Soon, I was lost to everything but him – his body moving with my own, his hands caressing my skin, his back muscles shifting in time to our motions.
I ran my hands down his sides, up his back, and through his hair, feeling like I couldn’t get enough, even as he filled me almost to the point of bursting. When we reached our peak, he held me in his arms for the longest time, almost like he never wanted to let go.
If that was the case, he wasn't the only one.
And when we did let go? It was only to run a steaming hot bath in his massive whirlpool tub. Together, we lingered, chatting and laughing until the water grew cold and we grew hot – for each other, that is.
When the first hint of dawn began creeping through the windows, I drifted off, more satisfied than I'd ever been in my whole life.
And it was all because of him – Zane Bennington, the guy who was impossible to figure out, especially a couple of hours later, when reality came calling in the form of too many people I'd been hoping to forget.
Chapter 57
I woke alone in a cold and rumpled bed. Still naked, I sat up and looked around the luxurious bedroom. Sunlight streamed in through the massive windows, casting a pale glow on my posh surroundings.
I looked toward the bedroom's doorway, where the trail of discarded clothing brought back memories of the previous night.
Had I really done it?
Had I really slept with Zane "the Prick" Bennington?
A pleasant soreness, not only between my thighs, but also deep in my stomach, told me all I needed to know. Last night, I'd had so many orgasms, I'd literally lost count.
Did I regret it?
Yes.
And no.
Yes – because this wasn't me. I wasn't a jump-in-the-sack kind of girl. I was a relationship kind of girl. Until now, I'd successfully avoided guys like Zane – irredeemable man-whores with a list of lovers a mile long.
And yet, I also realized that regret cut both ways. If somehow, I'd found the willpower to walk away when I'd had the chance, I'd be dealing with regret of a different kind.
I had to face facts. I would've been screwed either way.
But only one of those ways had given me a memory to last a lifetime.
There was no denying it. I'd wanted him.
I heard myself sigh. And now, I'd had him. What now?
Clutching the sheet close to my chest, I took another long look around, but saw no sign of him. I didn't hear him either. Was he gone? It sure seemed that way.
Was this my cue to leave, too?
I gave my discarded clothes a worried glance. There was no way I'd consider them clean now, especially my panties. Last night, I'd been so wet from wanting him that, for all I knew, they were still damp.
The thought was more than a little embarrassing.
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only eight o'clock. The morning was still young, right? Maybe he'd just popped out for coffee? Like the sap I was, I waited in his bed until nearly nine-thirty.
Finally, when it became painfully obvious that he wasn't coming back, I did the only thing I could. I got up and started gathering my clothes.
Ten minutes later, I was fully dressed, minus the panties, which I'd wadded up and tucked into the front pocket of my shorts.
Silently, I crept toward the main door of his suite, feeling incredibly self-conscious, even though I was utterly alone.
Unfortunately, that dynamic changed within five seconds of my departure. His door had barely shut behind me when who did I see rounding the nearby corner?
Tiffany.
At the sight of me, she stopped dead in her tracks. I stopped in mine. I wasn't normally a blusher, and yet, I could feel my face burning with raw embarrassment.
Her lips formed a smirk. "So, what'd you think?"
"What'd I think of what?"
She eyed me up and down. "Oh, forget it. It's not like I want to hear it, anyway." She glanced toward the door that I'd just come out of. "I'm missing a pink hairbrush. Did you see it?"
I had, in fact. The brush had been sitting on a marble-top table near the main door. "Uh, yeah. I think so."
She frowned. "You didn't use it, did you?"
Feeling more self-conscious with every passing moment, I ran a nervous hand through the tangles of my hair. "No. I didn't use anything."
This was only a slight exaggeration. I had helped myself to a splash of mouthwash and a quick look in the mirror. Unfortunately, this meant that I knew exactly what Tiffany was seeing – a girl who'd just stumbled out of Zane's bed.
Positively Pricked: A Billionaire Loathing-to-Love Romance Page 26