by Sable Hunter
“I’d love that, Presley. I’m a firm believer in pro-bono. If you can take some on, I’d be thrilled.”
A sweet giggle met his ears. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s Rex,” she giggled again. “He’s dreaming. He’s lying on his side and his legs are moving and he even raised his lips and snarled.” To Zane’s delight, she giggled again – a deep, husky, serious giggle. Then he heard her moving around.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m getting Rex-sugar,” he heard her kissing the dog and the damn dog sighed. More than anything he wanted to ask her to come get some Zane-sugar.
*****
Around noon, he got up and excused himself. She had brought a salad from home and her tummy was grumbling a bit. For the past few days she had made it a habit to slip into the kitchen, retrieve her lunch and come back to eat at her desk and read. Presley was addicted to romance novels, but she limited her reading time to lunch and right before she went to sleep. Romance novels gave her the opportunity to escape into a world that she probably would never get to experience in real life.
Presley stepped out in the hall and saw that Zane and Rex were walking down the corridor toward the kitchen ahead of her. But what they were not aware of was another employee pushing a box up on top of a file cabinet. The backs of the file cabinets formed the wall that was to Zane’s right and the tops of those storage bins were filled with all manner of things. It all happened in a split second; the heavy box was pushed into place dislodging a big, old paper cutter that had probably been gathering dust there for a long while. The cutter had a big arm with a heavy sharp blade and as it began to tumble over the side, swinging open right over man and dog – Presley moved quicker than she ever had before. “Zane!” she called, but he couldn’t react quickly enough, so she put herself in between him and the object that could so easily hurt him.
“Hell!” Zane felt the impact of the heavy object against her small body. Several people had called out, but no one had reacted as quickly as she had. Presley made a small sound of pain, but she didn’t cry out. Whatever had fallen had just plowed into her and pushed her against him. “Presley!?! Are you okay, Little Love? What the hell? Why did you do that?”
“It was about to hit you, and you couldn’t see it coming.”
Her voice was soft and measured, she was in pain. The realization of what she had done for him slowly sank in. It was an act of pure selflessness and it floored Zane to the bottom of his soul. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”
“No – no need, I just had the wind knocked out of me. There are no broken bones or blood or anything, I’ll just have a little bruise where it hit my back.”
“Damn, I wish I could see. Come back into the office with and let me check you out, at least I can make sure you don’t have any scrapes or broken ribs.” He led her back to the office and before she knew it, he had her shirt pulled out of her pants and his hands were all over her back. Presley was shaking, but not with pain.
“I’m all right – promise.” She wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. There probably would be a huge bruise on her back, but the main sensation she was feeling right now was her body reacting to his touch – her nipples were peaking and she wanted to turn in his arms so bad she could cry. When, after investigation, he was satisfied that she was going to live, he pulled her clothes back into place.
“Why don’t you come into the kitchen with me and rest? Did you bring a sandwich?”
“I have a salad in the refrigerator.”
He took her by the arm and they and Rex led one another back to the break room.
“I’ll get it,” he said as he led her to the first table. “Where is it placed, on what shelf?”
“The second shelf, it’s the only round container there.”
Several people came over to ask about her. She didn’t like the attention. Zane retrieved both of their lunches, and she couldn’t help but notice how very self-assured and independent he was. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him, but the thought of that heavy piece of office equipment hitting him in the head had horrified her. “Thank you,” she took the salad from his hand and he sat down by her.
“What do you have?”
“Rachel made me bacon wrapped stuffed jalapenos,” he answered with gusto as he bit into one.
Presley didn’t want to know who Rachel was, but she was glad he had someone to feed him. She was sure Zane had ample women eager to take care of him. “Those things look spicy. Let me get you some water.”
She was up and away from the table before he could stop her. “I could have gotten it, you’re the injured party.”
“That was nothing, I’ve been knocked on my rear before,” she handed him a glass of ice water. As she sat down, Renee and two other women joined them, sitting at an adjacent table. “Hello,” she spoke politely.
“Hi, Zane,” one of them spoke and giggled. They ignored Presley.
“Hello, Ladies,” Zane spoke in between bites. “Presley, did you have a good evening last night?”
She was a bit self-conscious in front of the other women, but she tried to just forget about them. “I did. I went to one of my favorite places, the pediatric unit at Breckenridge. I do a story-time there twice a week. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking to see the sick children, but I love to spend time with them all. Their indomitable spirits are inspirational.”
“I bet they are. That’s sweet of you, I’m impressed. Do you want to try one of these?” He offered her a pepper.
“Okay, thanks.” She bit into it and found it to her liking.
“Mr. Saucier, you have a phone call from the DA,” Darla stuck her head around the door. “Can I transfer it to your cell phone?”
“Yea,” he stood up. “Excuse me Presley; let me see what Honey wants, the reception isn’t very good in here.” He stepped out and she focused on her meal.
“Excuse me, Presley?” It was Renee. Presley turned to face her and the two other women. Both were tall, fashionable and dressed to the nines.
“Yes?”
“We were wondering if you wouldn’t mind eating at your desk from now on. When we have to look at you while we eat, it turns our stomachs and we lose our appetite.”
It took two or three seconds for Presley to realize what they were saying. The blatant, heartless insult stole her breath. Immediately tears sprang in her eyes – but she forced them back. They would not see her cry. “Okay,” was all she could think to say. Quickly she gathered her things, keeping her eyes cast down. But she didn’t get very far.
“Wait,” Zane growled. Oh my word! Had he heard? “I might be blind, but there’s not a damn thing wrong with my hearing.” He moved to where she stood, as if he could see where she was. “Renee, Lisa, Margo – I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you could treat someone like that. This is a place of business, not a school yard. Bullying will not go on here. Do you understand?”
“Zane,” Renee began, her voice shaking.
“It’s okay; let it go,” Presley whispered to him.
“What they said didn’t even make sense,” he directed that comment to Presley. “But it’s certainly not the kind of behavior I will tolerate at Saucier & Barclay.”
“Let’s go,” she tugged on his arm. Two of the three women weren’t even attempting to hide the darts of dislike flashing from their eyes, but one looked sheepish.
“We’re sorry, Zane. It was a joke,” Margo whispered. She wasn’t willing to lose her job over Renee’s jealousy.
“Please,” Presley begged – the word just a mere breath by his ear.
“We’ll discuss this during your performance evaluations.”
Zane led her out and Presley knew she owed him an explanation. Honesty was called for, but everything within her rebelled at the idea of laying herself bare to his scrutiny. “We didn’t pick up our food.”
“I have people for that,” he stated simply. Zane wanted to ask her what happened, but he felt it was one of
those mystical female one-upmanship games that men never understood. Of all the predatory creatures in the world, women could be crueler to their own kind than any other – cannibalistic, even.
When they were back within the safety of his office, Presley knew the time had come. “I have something to tell you. Something I’ve been hiding from you. It’s about the way I look.”
Zane stilled. She sounded so defeated. “Presley, you don’t have to . . .”
He stood there, so handsome in black slacks, a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his strong forearms – his tie, endearingly askew, as usual. His hair was more unruly than usual and he had the sexiest dark scruff on his face that she had ever seen. She looked him in the face - those beautiful brown eyes of his were unfocused but saw more than most. Presley closed her own eyes and gathered strength. It was probably wrong, but she had enjoyed him thinking she was normal, pretty. “I was born with a cleft lip. When I was eight I had surgery, but there is this scar that goes up from the center of my lip.”
“Presley, it’s . . .”
“No, I want you to see it.” First, she closed the door, then, she stepped up to him and took his hands. “Look at my face. I want you to know me.”
Zane’s hands shook. “Are you sure?” He had no desire to make her uncomfortable.
“If you don’t mind, I want you to. I mean you don’t have to, if you think it would be icky.” God, she wasn’t making much sense. She was so confused. Before he had wanted to touch her, and she wouldn’t let him. Now if he didn’t touch her, she’d be hurt. God, there was no pleasing her, was there?
“Come here,” he put his hands on her shoulders and stepped closer. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since the day you walked in. Of course, I want to touch you.” Her whole little body shook. “Easy, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” Presley sighed. “I’m just ashamed.”
“Shhhh,” he crooned. “Don’t be silly, you have a little scar – that’s all. Now, let me feel how pretty you are.”
Presley stopped breathing as he framed her face. His thumbs began moving over her cheeks.
“Your skin is so soft, like silk. High cheekbones, wide set eyes – long, long lashes,” he touched her closed eyes, “you’re so pretty. Smooth forehead, wispy bangs, small shell-ears – now let me feel your nose. Do you have a big nose?”
He was teasing her and she laughed a little, “no – not huge. It’s turned up a little bit.” He skated a finger down her forehead and traced her nose.
“Feels kissable to me,” he teased. Presley held her breath - - oh, God. But he skipped the dreaded area and cupped her chin. “You have a sweet little heart-shaped face.”
“Touch my mouth,” she directed, needing to get the ordeal over with. Presley was wound tighter than a drum, her whole being felt like she could just spin out of control at any moment.
He did.
Zane passed his fingertips over her lips. His thumb touched her bottom lip. “Beautiful mouth – pouty and full.” Then, his thumb moved over her poor upper lip. Presley stiffened and would have jerked back, but he began to talk. “Now, what’s the big deal? I feel a tiny mark right here.” Zane rubbed the reddened ridge that divided her upper lip. She knew he could feel how it was misshaped, the way it was curved upward in the middle. “Kitten,” he whispered.
“What?” Presley didn’t know what he meant.
“You have a kitten mouth,” Zane explained. “It’s precious.”
And then he bent close, one hand leaving her face, his arm curling around her, his palm on the small of her back. Presley’s sexual experience was nil – but the touch that drew her near him sent a jolt of excitement through her whole body. Unless she was badly mistaken – Presley Grace Love was about to be kissed.
Chapter Three
Yes, Presley was about to be kissed. She didn’t close her eyes; she didn’t want to miss a thing. Zane’s eyes weren’t closed either, and it was as if he looked at her – as if he could see her, the real her. And he wasn’t repelled.
“Can I taste you? Please?” he whispered.
“Oh, yes. I want that very much.” Slowly he urged her forward, and his body came to meet hers. The first part of her to touch him was her nipples – they were distended and hard and the heat that flashed over her when their bodies pressed together was like a supernova.
She bit her lip to hold back a gasp – and she couldn’t help it, she stood on tiptoe to meet him. He smelled just like a man should – like the clean fresh outdoors, a hint of musk – all male.
“I’ve thought about kissing you, what it would be like.”
“You have?” that was totally amazing. Presley didn’t want to rush him, but this was something she had dreamed of for her whole life and the anticipation was killing her. It might be a pity kiss, but she wanted it desperately. Zane pushed his body flush up against hers, and if she wasn’t badly mistaken, he was aroused. The headiness of the possibility made her head spin.
Zane was enjoying himself. He pulled her even tighter against him. Every curve of her body fitted to every plane of his perfectly. His whole body tensed and tightened with arousal. Perfect, soft pillowy tits rested on his chest and he could feel diamond hard nipples even through her clothes and his. God, he wanted to suck on them! They must be incredible! What he wouldn’t give to reach down and cup her ass – but that would come. The few moments the other morning when he had felt it nestled against his groin had burned the memory into his brain and he knew exactly how it looked – it was lush, squeezable – spankable.
“I’ve thought about kissing you, too, Zane,” she confessed – hoping against hope he wouldn’t change his mind. What was he doing? He wasn’t kissing her that was for sure. But he was close, inhaling her scent. Then he began to rub his cheek against hers, brushing his lips over her hair – God, her neck. She was being seduced. Didn’t he realize it wasn’t necessary? But, Lord help her, it was fun. But what if someone came in and spoiled it? What if someone interrupted them and she never knew the thrill of her first kiss? “Any time now, would be good,” the words slipped out before she could stop them and she felt him chuckle, a rumble vibrating against her chest.
“Oh, the kitten wants to be petted, does she? If I stroke you, will you purr for me?”
Presley almost came right then – right there – just from his suggestive teasing. God, what could this man do to her if he really tried? They were standing just inside the door and Zane reached over, ran his hand down the wooden surface and turned the lock.
Presley gulped, this could be good.
Zane was fascinated. Something about this woman turned him on beyond anything he’d ever known. Desire welled upside him, surging toward the surface. It wasn’t the place – or the time, but he wanted to strip her naked, lick every inch of her body and place his mark all over her. Possessing Presley was becoming necessary, but he didn’t just want to make love to her, he wanted to learn everything about her. God, he wanted her to know him, too and that was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The moment he’d took her in his arms, traced her beautiful features – he’d been shook – but then, the feelings had crystalized and he’d known that she was different, she might be exactly what his soul had been longing for.
“Zane,” she whimpered.
“Coming.” Almost.
He touched his lips to her – just rested them there, letting the reality of the joining wash over him. But Presley was impatient; she feathered her lips over his – grabbing his shoulders and rising even higher on her tiptoes. He opened his lips and took her top one between his own, tracing the little imperfection with his tongue, showing her that it mattered not a whit to him. She moaned and he swallowed the sound with a deeper kiss.
At last.
Presley blossomed under his attention as Zane took control and unleashed the full measure of his passion on her. His tongue tangled with hers in a sensuous chase. She didn’t protest – whatever he demanded – s
he gave, freely. With a bold possession, Zane consumed her mouth, sucking on that pouty lower lip, demanding a response. Rubbing his hands up her arms, he rejoiced when she joined in the chase, her tongue flitting and flirting with his like a tiny butterfly. God, he wanted her! He was hard as a rock! With a grunt, he bucked his erection directly against her pussy mound and she almost collapsed in his embrace, moaning. God, she was responsive.
Unwilling to end the kiss, Zane nipped at her lips, licking the corners, making her come to him and ask for more. Taking her wrists, he put them together and held them immobile with one hand right at the top of her hips. He spread his legs, enclosing her lower body and pressed her backwards until she was braced against the door. Damn, his control was slipping; he could feel himself trembling with the need to possess her utterly.
But voices outside the door brought him to his senses and he eased his grip, and began kissing her face, bringing her down. “That’s my girl, my sweet girl.”
“Thank you,” she said as she laid her head on his shoulder.
He rested his weight on his forearms, still bracketing her against the solid surface and announced the obvious – or at least to him. “Well, this changes everything, don’t you think?”