The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, but Zac was soaked to the bone. He was glad for that as he followed Delaney back to the house. It gave him a good excuse to stay for a while. There was nothing better than time alone with her to wear down her defenses. Last night, he’d sensed that she’d wanted him to kiss her and he almost had. A moment ago, he’d gotten that feeling again. If she gave him another chance, he wouldn’t balk about taking it.
He wiped his muddy boots on the mat and followed her through the back door into the kitchen, where she hung her coat on the peg and turned back to take his hat. Her hair was falling down and her face was splattered with mud. Impulsively, he reached out his hand to her cheek. Her eyes went wide at his touch. “Mud,” he said softly, wiping it away, but not letting his hand drop.
Her gaze focused on his mouth, her blue eyes flickering with something he couldn’t identify. Was it desire? Was she thinking what he was thinking? He willed her to lean into him, just a single inch, so he could claim the kiss he’d fantasized about for too damned long.
Once more, she pulled back. “You’re dripping all over my kitchen. Why don’t you give me your shirt? I’ll put it in the dryer.” She spun away to rummage in a drawer while he peeled his shirt off. She turned back to him, dishtowel in hand. “Here. You can dry your face with this.”
He reached out for the towel with one hand and offered the sopping shirt with the other, but her gaze was locked on his bare torso. “I, uh—I probably have something you can put on,” she said, her eyes darting guiltily back to his. “Um. Just give me a minute. I’ll go look upstairs.”
Damn. Cold feet. Again.
But this time he wasn’t going to let her go. He leaned back on the breakfast bar, taunting her with a cocked brow. “Running away?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I think you’re afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” she asked.
“I think you’re attracted to me and it scares the shit out of you.”
“Last night I said you were attractive, Zac. I didn’t say I was attracted to you. There’s a difference.”
“No, there isn’t. You’re splitting hairs.”
She gave a snort. “Do you really think you’re that irresistible? Your ego is as big as Ty’s.”
“C’mere.” He jerked his head in a beckoning motion.
“What for?” she asked warily.
“I think it’s time for a little test. We can end this whole debate here and now.”
“What kinda test?”
“The kiss test,” he said. “It’s real simple. I’m gonna kiss you. If you can stand there and do absolutely nothing, you win and I lose.”
“What’s the point?” she asked.
“Sexual compatibility,” he said. “If we kiss and I don’t do it for you, I’ll drop any ideas of sex with you and submit to the test tube.”
“That simple?” she said. “You’ll donate your sperm if I let you kiss me?”
“As long as you don’t respond. That means no sounds. No kissing back. No touching.”
“Just one kiss?” she said.
“One kiss.”
“How long a kiss?” she asked.
“A standard breath hold,” he replied.
“No tricks?”
He held out his bare arms. “Nothing up my sleeve.”
“Okay, Zac. I’ll let you kiss me.” Slapping his wet shirt down on the counter, she upturned her face.
He’d promised himself he’d take the next opportunity that came along, but now that the moment had come, Zac’s heart hammered a pounding drumbeat against his breastbone. He’d never been nervous about a kiss, but then again, a kiss had never meant all that much to him. That wasn’t to say he didn’t like kissing. It was a pleasant enough pastime, but mostly it just served as an appetizer to the main course.
He suddenly realized he didn’t know if he was a good kisser or not. He’d never had to try all that hard. Most of the women he’d been with were already primed for a tumble well before the first lip lock.
“Shut your eyes,” he said. He’d never suffered a crisis of confidence with any woman, but this wasn’t just any woman—it was Delaney McCall, the woman he hoped to spend the rest of his life with. He couldn’t afford to be random or haphazard in his approach.
She complied, only to have them pop open wide when he lifted her onto the breakfast bar. He stepped in close, gently nudging her knees apart. “I thought this was just a kiss?”
“It is,” he said, palming her head with one hand while the other cupped her jaw. “But if I only get one chance, I want to be sure and do it right.”
Delaney realized she was a fool for accepting his challenge. She’d already made one colossal mistake and was now about to compound that error with interest. She’d played right into his hand when he’d tauntingly accused her of being afraid of her attraction to him. She was, but there was no way in hell she was going to admit it to him. So, she’d accepted his damned “kiss test.” The whole thing had seemed simple enough in theory, but knowing something in theory and putting it into practice were two very different things.
Kissing him would be admitting her attraction. Kissing him would make herself vulnerable. Kissing could only lead to trouble. But the vision of him standing in her kitchen half naked, had sucked the breath out of her lungs like a super-powered Hoover. Scars and all, Zac made her pulse race like she’d run a marathon. She told herself all she had to do was keep her mind focused on anything but his big, strong hands cupping her face, the heat of his body, his broad, well-muscled shoulders, tanned, taut torso, and his musky, manly scent as he moved into the V space between her thighs. It was even harder, however, to ignore the hardness in his jeans as he pressed himself indecently close.
“Wait, Zac,” she said breathlessly. “This is too much. I need to set some ground rules.”
“To late for that.” He grinned. “You already accepted the deal.”
“But I thought we weren’t supposed to touch?”
“You aren’t supposed to touch me,” he replied. “I don’t recall saying anything about me touching you.”
“But I’m not comfortable at all with this.”
A smug grin spread slowly over his mouth. “That’s the idea, sweetheart. This isn’t supposed to be comfortable. If I do this right, it’s gonna get damned unsettling—for both of us.”
Her heart leaped into her throat as he brought his face within a hairbreadth of hers. Intending to create more distance, she pressed her hands against his warm, hard chest. She was shocked to feel his heart hammering rapidly under her palm. He might act all cool and confident, but underneath he was as nervous as she was.
Their eyes met. “Relax,” he said and slowly removed her hands from his chest.
Delaney planted them on the countertop beside her butt, willing herself to keep them anchored there, no matter what. It’s just a kiss, she told herself. It means nothing. She took a breath, wet her lips, her every nerve stretched tight in anticipation. But instead of his warm, soft lips on hers, he shocked her senses with his hot breath and abrasive whisker stubble as he nuzzled his face into her neck. The combined sensations evoked an answering ripple deep in her womb. Dear God. What am I in for?
“Is that it? Are you done?” she gasped, hoping he was.
“Done?” He withdrew a few inches with a chuckle that vibrated through his body into hers. “I haven’t even started yet.”
“Then get on with it,” she snapped. “We don’t have all day.”
“What’s the big hurry?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he jerked his head toward the window. “It’s still raining out there. What else are we gonna do to entertain ourselves?”
“You said one kiss, Zac,” she reminded him. “That’s all I promised.”
“You ready for it then?” he asked.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I’m ready. I’ve been ready, so quit playing around.”
“Nope.” He released her face and
dropped his hands to her thighs. “I don’t think you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re too tense. How can you expect to enjoy it when you’re sitting there all stiff-backed. How can you expect me to kiss you properly with that attitude?”
“I never said I intended to enjoy it,” she grumbled. “On the contrary. It’s in my best interest not to.”
He blew out a breath with a regretful head shake. “Then it appears we’re at a Mexican standoff.”
“What does that mean? You aren’t going to kiss me?”
“Don’t see how I can since the cards are stacked against me. There isn’t much point in going through with this when you’re dead set against enjoying it.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said. “I just said it was to my advantage not to enjoy it.”
“Sorry. I just can’t go into this when you’re prejudiced.”
“But I thought that was the whole point,” she huffed. “Weren’t you going to prove to me how irresistible you are and make me melt into a helpless puddle at your feet?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Then what exactly?” she asked, tensing as his hands crept up to her waist.
His gaze held hers, but he still made no move to kiss her. “My idea was to make you want this kiss as much as I do.”
Her gaze lifted once more to his mouth, and her stomach gave a little flip. Zac had a very attractive mouth. It was manly like the rest of him, but his lips looked so very soft. She instinctively licked hers.
She waited for several seconds. But he still did nothing. Damn him. Was he going to kiss her or not? Did she really want his kiss? Yes. She wanted it but refused to gratify his ego. She’d only agreed to let him kiss her, but if he refused to make the first move, maybe it was time for her to play the trump card.
She tipped her head back, her eyes seeking his as she parted her lips in silent invitation.
His chest rose sharply. She leaned into him by fractions, tempting, taunting.
He met her halfway, dipping his face close enough that his warm breath teased her cheek. “Do you, Delaney?” he murmured darkly as he traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his hot tongue. Her mind blurred to all but want and sensation—his mouth, his musky male scent, Zac’s warm, confident hands mapping her back, his hot and humid breath as he nuzzled her throat and licked her ear. He moved down her neck again, sucking, nibbling, his teeth lightly scoring over her skin, driving her crazy. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Damn you, Zac!” she cursed as her mouth claimed his, hot, hungry, and wanting.
His lips were firm and possessive, his tongue alternately seeking and demanding. She opened eagerly to his questing tongue, moaning into his mouth as he lifted her off the counter, pulling her closer and tighter to answer her need. Sweet Jesus! It felt so damned good to be touched and kissed. She’d forgotten how good it was. She never imagined feeling such strong desire again.
Zac had hoped his come-hither/go-away approach would get Delaney worked up enough to want the kiss as badly as he did, but holy shit, her reaction almost knocked him flat on his ever-lovin’ ass. One minute she was shootin’ daggers at him and the next she was grabbing his face with both hands. He anchored his hands on her ass. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. Panting, groaning, groping, grinding, as they worked themselves into a dry-humping frenzy until they were both gasping for air.
“Wanna take this upstairs?” he asked.
Delaney’s face was flushed and lips damp and swollen when he broke the kiss. “Upstairs?” she repeated blankly, looking so soft and sweet and vulnerable that his chest tightened.
“Yeah,” he said. “A bed would be really nice right about now.”
“A bed?” She blinked and then shook her head with a wild-eyed look. “No, Zac. Our deal was only a kiss.”
He let out a dark chuckle. “I’d say all bets are off now, sweetheart. I was supposed to have kissed you. That’s not what happened here. You kissed me.”
“You’re cheating. You caught me in a weak moment,” she protested. “This is not how it was supposed to happen.”
“It’s not what I expected either. Hell no. It’s bigger. Better. God, Delaney.” He shook his head with a groan. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted this? Wanted you? And you feel it too. You can’t deny it anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter what I feel,” she replied.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Lust is a part of all of us, Zac. I don’t deny that I have the same urges everyone else does, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act on them indiscriminately.”
“Indiscriminately?” he repeated with a scowl. “You talk like I’m some random stranger.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not how I meant it,” she said. “I’m saying that just because we have an urge to do something doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.”
“It doesn’t mean it’s the wrong thing either,” he countered.
She bit her lip. “I can’t do this, Zac.”
“Why not?” he asked. “You want a baby, don’t you?”
“But I don’t want a relationship. I told you from the beginning I’m not looking for that. I only need sperm. Sleeping together would only complicate everything.”
“How?” he asked.
“When it doesn’t work between us?” she asked. “What then? Could you deal with being an absentee father?”
“Whoa there!” He raised a hand. “That’s quite a leap you’re taking. If we were to do this, Delaney, if we made a baby together, what makes you think I’d want to be relegated to the shadows? I’d want to be a real father. I’d want to take my boy fishing, teach him to ride. I’d want to be an equal part of his life.”
“What if it were a girl?” she asked.
“Girls ride horses and fish too, don’t they?” he replied.
“You’re putting the cart way ahead of your horse, cowboy,” she answered with a nervous laugh. “Do you honestly think you’re even ready for fatherhood?”
“Maybe making babies wasn’t something I particularly wanted to rush into, but I like kids well enough. I always figured I’d have a few of ’em when the time was right.”
“You don’t think you’d ever want kids with someone else?” she asked.
“I’m thirty-four and I’ve been with a lot of women in my time,” he replied. “And I’ve never even thought about it before now. So maybe you see why I’m operating under the assumption that it is going to work, and better than either of us could ever have imagined.”
“Why would you think that?” she asked.
“Because we just got a small taste of it.”
“Great chemistry doesn’t guarantee a great relationship, Zac. Believe me, I know this from past experience. And there’s no good reason for me to try it again.”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind about the sperm bank, it seems to me you don’t have many options. Do you think a better offer is going to come along?”
“Probably not,” she said. “But just because you offered doesn’t guarantee you’re a viable candidate, Zac. Did you know sperm banks reject ninety percent of prospective donors? If you’re serious about this, you’d need to submit a sperm sample for semen analysis.”
“Semen analysis?”
“You know, the same stuff they look for in breeding bulls—sperm count and motility. There would be no point in pursuing this any further if there are any fertility issues. And then there’s also genetic testing.”
“You mean you’d expect me to just jack off and give it to you?”
“Not quite,” she replied. “That would require me to transport it to the clinic. It would be much better if you went there. The success rate is highest when it’s fresh.”
“Sweetheart, fresh wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just consider doing this the old-fashioned way.”
“Ain’t gonna happen, Zac. Now that we’re clear on that subject, I understand if you want to w
ithdraw your offer.”
He studied her for a long moment, looking uncertain. “Is that what you want me to do?”
“Makes no difference to me,” she replied with a shrug. “But I figured it would be a game changer for you. It would be for most men.”
“I’m not most men,” he said. That was true enough. Most men skipped outta dodge at the first mention of kids. “And I’m willing to sacrifice a few million sperm cells, if that’s what it takes to get what I want.”
Her gaze searched his. “What do you want? I don’t understand why you offered to do this. What’s in it for you?”
“I told you what I want. Now I want to know why sleeping together is such a problem for you?” he asked. “You can’t say you’re not attracted to me ’cause I’ll never buy it after that incredible lip-lock.”
She bit her lip. “I just think it’ll overcomplicate things.”
“How?” he asked.
“Okay, let’s just suppose we were to go down that road. What if I don’t get pregnant? If it doesn’t happen for me, you’re the winner and I’m the loser.”
“You’re looking at it all wrong,” he said. “There’s no winner or loser in this. There’s just two people trying to meet each other’s needs. Nothing in life is a sure bet, but sometimes we need to take chances in order to get what we want.”
She knew he was right, but she didn’t know if she had courage enough to try again. Her only other option was to go it alone with an adoption. She’d considered that alternative as well, but the waiting list for an infant was a mile long, unless she went out of the country. Although she’d consider that route if she couldn’t conceive any other way, she ached for the entire experience of motherhood, of feeling a baby growing inside her.
“I don’t know, Zac,” she said. “This just isn’t the way I planned things. Please. I need some time to process all this.”
“How much time?” he asked.
“A few days at least. I have a lot to consider.”
“Fair enough,” he answered. He reached for his wet shirt with a grimace. “No point in putting this back on.”
“None at all,” she replied. “Not to mention it would spoil the view.” Unable to resist giving him a slow once-over, she flashed a flirtatious smile as she handed him his hat.
Beauty and the Bull Rider Page 5
