by Abby Green
Rose turned against the tide of people rushing around her. As if sensing her capitulation from across the road Zac came towards her, like a panther intent on his prey. His eyes were locked onto hers until he was standing in front of her.
A silent communication passed between them. Are you sure? No more games.
And from the deepest part of her came just one word as she put her hand in his: Yes.
* * *
Zac felt euphoric. He felt reckless. Out of his comfort zone. As if he was going slightly crazy.
Since when had he ever taken a notion to walk across Central Park in the afternoon, to hold a woman’s hand? Or to stop and buy ice-cream? Or to take time out from work. Something he hadn’t done in...ever.
But from the moment he’d seen Rose again in that room his brain had ceased functioning normally.
The only thing stopping him from slamming a hand on the ‘Stop’ button of his private elevator right now and lifting her against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist, so he could take her right here, was the tiniest sliver of control that reminded him he was a civilised man and not an animal.
It was the only thing that had held him back from cursing when she’d pulled away and crossed the road just a short while before. But then she’d stood at the entrance of that subway, looking into it as if it held some answer...and she hadn’t moved. And she’d looked across at him and her hunger and yearning had been palpable.
He’d wanted to howl in triumph. Because he’d known then that this mysterious, fey woman who had bewitched his body and mind was going to be his. He would get her mysterious pull out of his system and put it behind him.
This last week had shown him that he was more at the mercy of his hormones than he’d like to admit. For a man who had always felt in control of his life—even when it had spun in a completely unexpected direction—it was a disturbing sensation. He didn’t equate women with hormones or this craving need.
He came from a world where logic ruled. Where emotions showed up weaknesses. From a young age, his life was lived by a strict code of rules. Even if he thought he’d thrown all that out of the window, he hadn’t really. He just lived by a different set of rules now.
If anything had demonstrated to him that emotions out of control spelled doom, his own parents’ legacy had. Their lives—and his—had been ruined by reckless passion. And while he wanted to avenge them above anything else, he also wanted to prove that he could control himself. That his life wouldn’t be derailed as theirs had been.
Rose held him momentarily in thrall, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t trust it. So the sooner he could exorcise it, the better. And this was just the start.
CHAPTER FOUR
ZAC’S APARTMENT WAS subtly different from the other night as the setting sun bathed it in a golden light. Rose was breathing too rapidly and forced herself to slow down. She’d taken her hand out of Zac’s when they’d come into the apartment and walked over to one of the windows, suddenly jittery. Suddenly wondering again if she was being completely crazy—not to mention selfish.
She looked out and put a hand on the glass, as if that might help to anchor her in this fantastical space. He came to stand beside her and the air quivered between them. That damned breathlessness was back, along with a spurt of panic.
What was she doing here?
She gabbled words to try and fill the weighted silence. ‘It’s so beautiful up here. You’re very lucky.’
Zac’s voice was deep and low beside her. ‘I know how beautiful it is and, believe me, I know how lucky I am.’
She finally looked at him and he was leaning with his back against the glass, which suddenly looked totally flimsy to Rose. He’d removed his tie and taken off his waistcoat, and was staring at her assessingly.
She felt acutely self-conscious. She wore only a minimum amount of make-up, which had probably melted off by now, making her face shiny. Her hair was down and messy, thanks to him. She wore the blandest of clothes. As opposite as she could be from the woman he’d met a week ago.
Unbidden, she asked helplessly, ‘Why do you want me?’
His eyes rose from where they’d been making a lazy appraisal of her body and met hers, piercingly blue. ‘Because you’re more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in my life.’
‘I’m not—really I’m not...’ Rose ducked her head and her hair slipped forward, covering her face.
Zac pushed it back behind one ear and tipped her face up with a finger under her chin. She couldn’t look anywhere but at him. He was standing in front of her now.
‘Yes, you are, Rose. And I want you because of that and also because I won’t be able to think again until I have you.’
She could feel herself slipping down a rabbit hole, with nothing to grab on to at the sides. Except for Zac.
He moved closer and closer, until their bodies were touching and she was drowning in his scent. She grabbed his shirt in order to stay standing, trying not to fall down the hole completely. And then he lowered his head and her world was reduced to this: yes.
His kisses were like nectar—but with a darkness that called to some alien dark part of her. That was why she was really there. She was weak and she wanted to taste the forbidden too much.
She moaned with a kind of angry self-despair into Zac’s mouth and he clearly took that as encouragement, sliding his tongue deep, dancing and duelling with hers. The kiss turned deeper and more lustful.
Zac’s hand dropped to her waist, and then further. He squeezed one buttock through the material of her skirt, his hand easily encompassing the firm flesh.
Rose ripped her mouth away, unable to think how to do more than one thing at once any more. She rested her forehead against his neck, breathing rapidly. Zac moved back slightly, but only so he could bring her over to a nearby couch. He sat down and on jelly legs Rose followed him, falling into his arms, sprawling across his lap.
She tried to sit up but he wouldn’t let her, saying, ‘I like you like this.’
Rose just looked at him, and he kissed her again, and she forgot to protest. He was smoothing a hand down over her chest, cupping a breast, squeezing gently. She gasped into his mouth.
And then his hand was untucking her shirt from her skirt so he could explore underneath, touching her skin, moving higher, cupping her breast again more intimately, finding her nipple under its lace covering and pinching it gently.
Rose tore her mouth from his again and looked at him, feeling feverish. Zac pulled down the lace of her bra and now his hand was on her bared breast. He looked feral, hungry.
‘Undo the buttons of your shirt. I want to see you.’
With shaking hands she did his bidding, like some kind of wanton robot. Her shirt fell open and Zac looked down. Colour scored his cheeks.
He muttered, ‘Just how I imagined...beautiful.’ And then he lowered his head and kissed her breast, tasting the hard bud of her nipple, licking the pouting flesh and sucking it into his mouth like a succulent morsel.
Zac bared her other breast and anointed that one with his hot mouth and rough tongue. She had to press her thighs together to try and contain the building tension deep in her core.
But, like a mind-reader, Zac was sliding his hand between her thighs now, forcing her to part them for him. She looked at him again, aware that her shirt was wide open, her breasts bared and upthrust, framed by her bra.
He pressed against her sex through her underwear. Fingers exploring, sliding up and down. One of Rose’s hands gripped his arm, as if that might keep her anchored. She couldn’t believe she was behaving so wantonly, letting him touch her so intimately, urging her to fall over a precipice that she’d only explored by herself before now.
But she couldn’t find a voice to tell him to stop.
Zac pushed the gusset of her underwear a
side and then he was touching her with expert precision, knowing exactly where she ached. Rose bit her lip. He kept looking at her as his fingers slipped through her slick folds, unlocking all her secrets, and then dipped inside her...gently at first and then with increasing pressure as he forged a deeper and deeper passage, rhythmically, remorselessly.
His thumb massaged her clitoris, and Rose tried valiantly to cling on to control of her own body, but it was impossible. She came apart in his arms, head thrown back as all her muscles locked tight. She could feel herself clenching and shuddering, completely defenceless against such a rush of pleasure.
It seemed to take an aeon for her to come back to earth, floating on a cloud of satisfaction she’d never experienced before. She lifted her heavy head, feeling dazed.
Zac was still looking at her, and he said with a touch of sensual approval, ‘You’re so responsive.’
And then Rose saw herself as he did—bared from the waist up and from the waist down. Legs spread. She went hot all over—hot with mortification. They’d been in the apartment for mere minutes and she was already writhing and moaning on his lap—a million miles from the sophisticated responses he was undoubtedly used to.
She scrambled free of his embrace and moved to the end of the couch, tugging her skirt down and pulling her shirt back together. She knew her legs wouldn’t hold her up without shaking.
Zac sat up. ‘Rose...what is it?’
She didn’t hear him. She was berating herself. She should have told him the truth before now. Hadn’t that been part of the bargain she’d made to herself to justify coming here with him? But she’d forgotten in the heat of the moment. She was meant to be trying to put him off—not lead him on.
‘Rose?’
Her whirling thoughts came to an abrupt halt and she looked at Zac, who was beside her now. Stubble was already marking his jawline. His hair flopped forward and the strong lines of his face were breathtakingly distracting, even now.
‘There’s something you need to know,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘I’m a virgin.’
* * *
Zac struggled to understand through the fog of lust clouding his brain. ‘What did you say?’
Her cheeks coloured dark red, and she said it again—starkly. ‘I’m a virgin.’
For the longest moment he could only look at her. She might as well have said that there was a unicorn on the other side of the room—that was how little he could understand what she was saying. Then her words slowly impacted and he thought of how responsive she’d just been, and he noticed how she was holding her clothes together...
He suddenly needed space. He stood up and asked a little hoarsely, ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-two.’
Zac shook his head, as if it might encourage his brain cells to start working properly again. ‘And you’ve never...?’
Rose stood now too, arms crossed over her shirt to try and hold it together. Her skirt was still ruched up over her thighs. She looked dishevelled...undone. Sexy as hell. And he could see that she didn’t have a clue how alluring she was.
Something inside him tightened.
She avoided his eyes. ‘I’ve never had a boyfriend—not like that. I never wanted to have sex with anyone... It’s just me and my father at home. He found it hard to cope after my mother died, so I never went out much...’
The tightening sensation in his chest increased and Zac reeled as this revelation of her innocence sank in fully. It struck him powerfully—especially after all the secrets and lies he’d found in his own family. The tragedy that had ensued as a result of them.
He knew he should be sending her away. He didn’t do virgins. Just as he didn’t do relationships. He was from a world that had stripped away any illusion that innocence or happy families existed a long time ago... And yet he found that he couldn’t make himself do what he knew he should.
He moved closer to Rose and reached out and put a finger under her chin, tipping her face up. As soon as their gazes met he knew that he was not letting her go. In spite of her innocence. He wanted to claim her for himself with a fierceness that shook him.
‘You said you’ve never wanted to have sex with anyone...do you now?’
After a long moment that had all Zac’s nerves stretched taut enough to snap, Rose nodded.
Honesty was something he prized now, above almost anything else, and right at that moment this woman in front of him stood for something he’d never experienced before. A kind of purity.
He closed the gap between them and pulled her closer, his thumb sliding across skin as soft as a rose petal. She’d been named well.
She looked at him, something swirling in those big green eyes. ‘You’re not...sending me away?’
The thought made Zac feel feral. He hid it. ‘Why would I do that?’
She swallowed. ‘Because I’m not experienced.’
Her expression of bravado mixed with something much more vulnerable made him feel inordinately protective. He shook his head. ‘No way, sweet Rose. You’re not going anywhere.’
Her eyes flared at that. She was hungry for him. And he was ravenous—even more so now.
He reached for her hand to lead her into his bedroom before he took her on the floor like an animal, but she squeezed his hand and he stopped to look at her. She was pale now...worried.
‘I’m not...on the pill. You need to protect us.’
Relief made Zac’s chest expand. For a moment he’d been afraid she’d changed her mind. But she was concerned about protection. And so was he. Zealously so. This should be the least of her worries.
He slid a hand around to the back of her head, under her hair, and pressed his mouth to hers. Already his body was responding with a carnal hunger that he knew wouldn’t wait.
He pulled back. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we’re protected—believe me.’
Her concern only made her honesty even more pronounced. Zac knew well that if she was more experienced she might see the knots he was tied in and take advantage of that. But she wasn’t.
He led her into his bedroom, anticipation coiling in his gut like a living thing. There was something incredibly raw and visceral about knowing that no other man had touched this woman. That he would be the first to mark her...brand her. She would be indelibly his.
He shook his head faintly, as if to try and dislodge these uncharacteristically primal flights of fancy. He associated animalistic feelings with the boardroom. Not the bedroom. Or he had up till now.
He let Rose’s hand go and turned to face her at the foot of his bed. Her eyes were huge. Her mouth was still swollen from his kisses. The hard tips of her breasts were evident under the material of her shirt.
He had to exert control. She was innocent. He was almost afraid to touch her. Not sure if he could control himself. He uttered a silent curse. He’d never felt on edge like this before.
‘Take off my shirt.’
When she moved forward her own shirt opened more, and the tantalising curves of her bare breasts were visible through the open material.
He had to curl his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out. And then she was grappling with his buttons, painstakingly slowly, undoing them one by one. Her fingers brushed against his hot skin in tantalisingly fleeting caresses.
Zac gritted his jaw. When he saw the tip of her tongue dart out, and the way she bit her lower lip in concentration, a bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. Her small hands were near his belt now, and he couldn’t stand it any more. He took her hands in his and lifted them up, pressing a kiss to the centre of each palm.
Something in his chest squeezed tight again when he felt the slight roughness that told of her menial work. He felt incensed that she should have to do this, and hated himself in that moment for having always been with women who spent more money on the
ir manicures than Rose probably saw in a year.
He dropped her hands and let them go, then yanked his shirt out of his trousers, pulling it off and letting it drop to the ground.
Her eyes were on his chest, wide and intent. Her cheeks flushed with colour. He could see her clench one hand into a fist, as if to stop herself from touching him, and he reached for it and brought it up, uncurling her fingers and placing it in the centre of his chest.
Her touch was cool, but it burned hotter than the most seductive caress. She looked up at him and he took his hand away, and hesitantly she started to explore. Tracing the muscles under his skin. When her nail scraped a nipple he sucked in a breath and his erection jerked in his pants. He’d never known how sensitive he was there.
‘Did I hurt you?’
He shook his head and marvelled at the genuinely concerned look on her face. ‘No—the opposite.’
The flush on her face deepened. Her hands were drifting down now, over his abdomen and lower. She was going to kill him. She reached for his belt and looked up, as if asking for permission.
He just nodded. Rendered speechless.
She undid it and then opened the button above the zip. Zac felt almost embarrassed at the prominent bulge in his pants.
Rose’s head was down, her bright hair falling forward. Wilder than the other night, it was the most unusual colour. Blonde but with russet tones. He wondered if the unusual colour was natural. He would know for sure when he saw—
He stifled a gasp of pure pleasure/pain. She was lowering his zip now, her knuckles brushing against the swell of his arousal.
She looked up again and he gently took her hands away, muttering, ‘I won’t last if you keep touching me like that.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Zac shook his head and cupped her jaw, tipping her face up. How could she not know what she was doing to him? Because she was innocent.
