That's why I brought out the big guns. It took me three hours to get ready tonight, and that was with Lauren's help (after I promised I would keep her updated with texts). This outfit is new—just got it today, in fact. The shirt is sexy and red, made out of a gauzy material, with a deep v-shaped neckline. The front of it is held together by tiny hooks that show little gaps of skin when I lean forward. A floaty black miniskirt and high heels complete my hot-or-is-she-trying-too-hard look. I've kept my makeup minimal, just some lip gloss and eyeliner, and my hair is product-free, long and curling down my back.
So what took me so long to get dressed? Choosing my underwear! Because I am determined that somebody is going to be seeing it tonight. I just hope that—
"What are you making?"
I scream, my hands flying up—which is very unfortunate, since I'm holding a colander full of noodles.
Oh, crap!
Miraculously, Zane somehow catches the colander and most of its contents, save for a few stray noodles, which rightfully land on me. Guess what? They're scalding hot!
I shriek and fling the strands off me and into the sink. Humiliating? I think so.
Zane is trying not to laugh as he sets the colander on the counter. He takes in my appearance, slowly scanning me from head to toe before speaking. "What's up, Violet?"
"Um...nothing." I busy myself with brushing sticky bits of noodles on my shirt. "Uh, actually, are you going out tonight? Because I have a date coming over. For dinner. I'm making spaghetti. For this guy—his name is Mark."
Zane stares at me for a couple of seconds. "You're having a guy come here?"
I nod nervously, running my hands down my short skirt. "Yes. For dinner—spaghetti." I gesture lamely to the meatballs simmering in pasta sauce on the stove.
He leans against the counter and crosses his muscled arms over his chest. "Actually, I think I'll be staying in all night."
"What? Why?"
"Because no way in hell am I leaving you alone with some horny jackass—especially looking like that."
My mouth falls open in outrage. "Like what?!"
"You know like what." He gestures angrily at me. "He'll take one look, and be all over you. Then I'd have to beat his ass into the ground."
"Uh, no you don't! I can take care of myself, and I really don't need you interfering!"
"Interfering?" I flinch back as Zane explodes in exasperation. "Violet, you’re god damned seventeen years old! You think I’m going to sit back and do nothing while some punk takes advantage of you."
I slam a sassy hand on one hip. "Who says I won't be taking advantage of him?"
Zane stares at me like I just grew another head. He shakes his head slightly. "You don't mean that," he says quietly.
I glare at him. "Yes, I do. God, you're such a hypocrite! You used to have a different girl over here every night, screwing their tiny brains out. I know—the walls here are very thin and sounds are really amplified, you know! So don't you dare lecture me!"
Zane's eyes narrow dangerously, dark fires burning in their depths. "It's not the same thing."
"Why? Because you're a guy?"
"Because you're seventeen!" he growls. "Fuck! Why are you being like this? Are you trying to get back at me for what happened...that night?"
That really pisses me off! "Maybe I just wanna be with a guy who finishes what he starts," I sneer.
Um. Uh-oh.
Just now I realize I am the little kid poking the tiger with a stick, one time too many. There is definitely a predatory gleam in Zane's eyes right now as he stalks toward me.
I back up, but I'm not afraid. Agitated, and that weird combination of excitement and...need, whenever I'm around him. But not afraid.
Well, maybe a little.
Zane traps me against the counter, leaning into to me so that we're touching from our chests to our knees. I gasp at the contact. God, the feel of his heat against me! Something primal in me roars with greed. I can feel his heart racing with mine, we're both breathing fast and hard. I inhale his amazing Zane scent, so sexy and utterly masculine, turning my insides to warm melting chocolate.
"So, you want me to finish what I started, huh?" His voice is low and rough when he talks.
Zane places one big hand on my hip and pulls me against his body, and I gasp again. Holy crap, he is so...hard...everywhere. In my head, I give a maidenly scream.
"Um," I say nervously, trying desperately to remain absolutely still, and not wiggle against him! "I don't know what..."
Zane searches my face, seeming to silently ask a question I have no idea how to answer. His mouth is inches from mine. If he would just lower his head a bit, we could be kissing instead of fighting.
But, no. He gives a small sigh and backs away. He runs both hands through his short dark hair, turning away. "That night was a mistake," he mutters.
Grrr!
"What was a mistake? Getting me almost naked in the pool, and whispering dirty nothings in my ear, and then acting like I've got the plague?!" Furious, I shove against him with both hands. "You can't just play games with me like that! I thought that I—I thought we were friends. And now...you can't even stand to be around me! You're—you're such an asshole!"
"I know!" Zane yells back at me. "And you’ve been making me suffer for it every god damn day."
I glare at him. "Oh, really?! How exactly are you suffering?!"
"You know how." He smiles grimly. "You've been parading around in those hot little outfits, brushing past me...teasing the hell out of me. You think I don't know what you're doing?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, flushing to the roots of my hair.
"Yes, you do," he says, and reaches over to tug on my skirt. "What about that stunt you pulled in my room, 'forgetting your clothes?'"
That makes me cringe in embarrassment. I knew it was too obvious and skanky. "I did forget them," I say weakly.
“Right. Shit.” Zane laughs, and shakes his head. "Who would've thought a little girl like you would have me so fucked up, I can't think straight?"
I'm stung at the "little girl" comment. "You being fucked up has nothing to do with me," I say coldly.
He suddenly grins. "Language, Miss Mercer."
"Oh, screw you, O' Connor!" I give him the finger.
"Yeah, I'd take you up on that offer if I didn't think you'd run screaming in the opposite direction."
I stomp up to him and poke him in the chest. “Uh-huh, you always accuse me of being the scared one, but it’s always you doing the running.”
Zane looks down at me, anger once again darkening his features. “I’m trying to protect you, Violet,” he growls.
I poke him again. “And I told you, I can take care of myself—”
Zane suddenly steps closer, cupping my face with his hands, and effectively cutting me off mid-sentence. His head lowers, and then his mouth is on mine.
Everything else spins away. The strong smell of the meatballs and sauce burning on the stove is replaced with Zane’s purely male scent. I am consumed by it, consumed by him. We are the only two that exists in this one moment, unaffected by time or reason.
We kiss frantically, half-crazed with need. He pulls back a little, changes the pressure of his lips on mine. Our tongues touch. I moan helplessly, locking my arms around his neck, and trying to climb him like a tree. Zane helps me out by lifting me up by gripping the back of my thighs. We slam into the counter, he sets me on top of it, and distantly I am aware of crashing sounds.
I’m burning from the inside, a burning ache that causes me to move restlessly against him. I can’t get close enough!
Zane growls low in the back of his throat at my movements. I tug at his shirt, insistent. I need to feel his skin. He lets go of me only long enough to help me get it off, raising it over his head and tossing it away. I run my hands up and down his chest. Finally, finally I can touch him! He’s incredible…silk over steel, so smooth and streamlined. My hand moves over his wildly beating heart. I’m
doing that to him! A sense of power rushes over me as he groans and kisses me deeply.
My shirt is hanging open, I realize when he pulls back slightly. Zane watches my face carefully as he slowly unhooks my bra. I flush with embarrassment when his gaze lowers and he exhales softly. Then his warm hands and talented mouth are on me, and I forget my self-consciousness, and I’m swept up in how good it feels.
My hands trail slowly down Zane's ripped abs. He stops me when I reach his zipper.
"Hold up, Violet." He chuckles unsteadily. "You're killing me here."
I take a deep breath. "Do you have anything? I mean...protection?"
"No." He smirks when I make an incredulous face at him. "I got rid of it all so I wouldn't be tempted to break down your door one night and have my dirty way with you."
I gape at him. "Were you really that tempted?"
He looks down at me, letting his gaze linger on my exposed skin. "Oh, yeah."
"Oh, um, okay," I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest. "I guess we should..."
I trail off, gesturing at...nothing. Zane places both hands on my thighs, and crouches down a little so we're face to face.
His gaze is serious, intense. "Do you want to have sex with me?"
Whoa. I blush at his bluntness. "Um...wow, that’s kind of personal…" I look everywhere but at him.
Zane catches my chin and holds me still. He raises an eyebrow and waits.
I force myself to look at him, his fathomless star-lit eyes, the dark angel beauty of his face. "Yes," I say finally, my voice soft but steady.
Zane searches my face intently. After a couple of seconds, he smiles. "Okay, then. Not today, though."
I smile back. "Guess not."
I can hear the disappointment tinged with relief in my tone and so can Zane.
He runs a finger gently down my jaw to my neck. "Hey," he says teasingly. "There are other things we can do."
He doesn't have to spell it out for me—the promising gleam in his eyes say it all. He pushes me down on the counter, and proceeds to take me to heaven.
******
Chapter 14
I'm lying there, panting and limp as a noodle—and utterly speechless.
Zane lifts his head to look at me. He cracks a grin at the look on my face. “You okay?”
I clear my throat, testing to see if my brain is working. “Um. Give me a minute.”
He chuckles, and I can hear that hint of male satisfaction in his laughter. He lets me catch my breath before he starts talking again.
“You know, I read your books,” he says out of the blue.
“You…” I can’t look at him, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Oh.”
“They’re really great. Funny as hell, and clever.”
A warm glow falls over me like a cozy blanket. “Thanks,” I say shyly. “I didn’t—”
The sound of the doorbell interrupts me. Panicked, I look towards the direction of the door.
Zane glances over at me. "You expecting someone?"
I shoot up into a sitting position so fast, I think I give myself whiplash. "Oh, my god! Mark!" I gasp.
"Your dinner date?"
I nod frantically. The clock on the microwave reads 6:57. I look down at my mostly naked body. Crap!
"Relax," Zane says with a lazy smile. "I'll get rid of him."
I look him up and down. He's shirtless, his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. "Uh, not looking like a sexy Calvin Klein ad, you won't."
He chuckles, but to my relief, buttons and zips. He grabs his shirt on the way out. "Better?" he calls over his shoulder.
"Definitely not," I say under my breath.
I lie back down, grinning my head off. That was incredible! So that's what all the fuss was about! And we didn't even have sex—technically. If real sex is anywhere as good as not-sex, then yes, please! Wow, I feel great, sort of boneless, and kind of dirty—but in a good way.
My afterglow is cut short by the sounds of hideous screaming.
Mom's ringtone!
I fall off the counter, scrambling to find my phone. As I shout "Hello!" into the phone, I wonder why I didn't just let it go to voicemail.
"Hey, hon! What are you up to?" Mom's voice chirps in my ear.
Oh, nothing. Just had an incredibly mind blowing experience, courtesy of your soon-to-be step-son.
Ugh!
"No one—I mean, nothing! Nothing at all, is what I meant. How are you? Shouldn't you be on a plane right now?"
"Actually..." Mom laughs. "That's why I'm calling—"
"Delayed, huh?" I interrupt, distracted by my efforts in trying to get completely dressed. I cannot talk to her half-naked like this. I feel so dirty.
"No, no! Actually, the opposite. Bill got called in early for the Starpoint project. I thought I'd surprise you—we're on our way to Jane's right now!"
"Holy shit!" I shriek. "That's...awesome."
"I know," Mom says excitedly. "I can't wait to see you! We'll be there in ten minutes."
Crap! "Uh, wait! I'm not really...there at Jane's. Physically, I mean." I think furiously. "What I mean is, I'm at Lauren's."
"Oh, okay," she says, and I can hear the puzzlement in her voice at my weirdness. "Bill, go to my old apartments instead," I hear her call.
"No, wait!" I blurt. "I'm actually spending the night. Lauren is—she's really upset. She, uh, she just found out she has a secret half-brother."
What?
There is a long pause at my mom's end. "Really? Wow, that's...unexpected."
Right now I'm smacking myself in my fool head. "Yeah, crazy, right? Um, I better go—she's throwing stuff right now. So I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Bye, now!"
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"
Zane ambles back into the kitchen, and watches as I run around in panicked circles. "What's going on?" he asks, amused.
I shoot him a frantic look. "Our parents are back! My mom thinks I'm at Lauren's, so—I've got to get over there, like, right now!"
"Shit," he mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. "That's awesome timing."
"I know!"
I dash into my bedroom and grab a shirt from my bag. I somehow manage to get stuck in the shirt—oh, that's an armhole I'm trying to poke my head through! I finally manage to right myself, only to turn and find Zane in the doorway, eating an apple, and watching me with what better not be enjoyment.
“Would it be so bad if your mom found out about us?” he asks, leaning an elbow against the door jamb.
“Yup,” I reply swiftly. “My mom’s cool, but not that cool. Besides, she’s already warned me about you.”
“Really? What did she say?”
I unplug my phone charger from the outlet next to my bed and stuff it into my purse. “She said not to fall for you, because you would only break my heart,” I finally answer.
“Huh.” He takes another bite of his apple.
I grab my bags and my purse and push past him. I make it a couple of steps when he grabs me from behind and swings me around to face him.
“Wha—?” I start to say.
Zane pulls me to him, and our lips meet with a violence that sends my senses spinning out of control. I drop my things and wrap my arms around him, meeting his intensity with a fire of my own.
He’s the first to draw away. I’m ridiculously pleased to see that his eyes are slightly unfocused and he’s breathing hard.
“Your mom is right,” he says, almost under his breath. He grabs my bags like they weigh nothing and walks toward the front door.
Dazed, I pick up my purse and trail after him.
I am so afraid that I’m going to run into Mom and Bill as I leave the house that I almost drive off the side of the road—twice! On the way, I quickly text Lauren to let her know what’s going on. Like a true best friend, she promises to have snacks waiting when I get there.
Luckily, she answers the door when I knock. She looks me up and down and bursts out laughing.
“I know!” I say, handing her my
purse. She takes it and gestures me into the apartment.
“You look like the aftermath of a hurricane,” she says, still snickering as she leads the way to her bedroom.
I look around cautiously. The twins’ side of the room is a disaster area. They could both be hiding under the mounds of clothes tossed everywhere, and I would never know until they popped their little red heads out and shouted, “Boo!”
Lauren sees my look, and smiles. “Don’t worry,” she says, placing my purse on top of her ruthlessly organized desk. “They’re at a sleepover tonight.”
“Fantastic.” I sigh and plop down onto her bed. I give in to another compulsion to check my phone for any text messages from Zane that I might have missed on the drive here.
There’s nothing. I left him fifteen minutes ago. Why would he text me? I’m dumb.
“So, why are you wearing a Sponge Bob shirt?” Lauren wants to know. “What happened to the new one you had on earlier?”
“Oh…um…” I cover my blushing cheeks with my hands. “Zane kind of…tore it.”
Lauren’s brown eyes widen comically. “Should I go get the popcorn?”
I nod weakly. “And chocolate.”
I tell her almost everything. We sit on her bed, munching snacks, and she’s so enthralled by my recount that she doesn’t even yell at me about crumbs.
“Wow,” she says when I’m done. “That’s so…hot.”
“Right?” I sigh and pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth barely tasting it.
Lauren hands me a napkin. "Okay, but what about that comment about your mom being right? Is he admitting that he will break your heart?"
I throw my hands up in the air. " Of course he's going to break my heart. I know, realistically, these things never works out. I'm still in high school, and he's got a life and a job in L.A. I can't even envision a scenario where we end up together. Right?"
She stays silent for a moment, then gives a shrug. “It could happen. We’ll be off to college before you know it, and you want to go to UCLA, right?”
Falling for the Ghost of You Page 10