by Rita Herron
When she cried out his name, the first traces of her release drew a shiver from his own body, and he groaned and closed his eyes and let ecstasy claim him.
Then he buried his face against Jenna, simply holding her close and reveling in the afterglow of their passion...
* * *
Jenna lay basking in the soul-shattering moment, knowing she'd given her heart to Zack. But it wouldn't last forever.
She had to savor every delicious moment of the night and show Zack in the most unselfish of ways how much she loved him—without words.
Because the words would kill the mood and send him running.
She rolled sideways and threw her leg over his, curling into the crook of his shoulder, rubbing small circles on his hair-dusted chest with her finger. He hugged her tighter, angling his head so she could see his face. The emotions she saw brimming in his eyes made her blink back tears.
He seemed touched, awed, just as she felt, and if she hadn't known how set he was against commitment, she would have thought she'd seen love. Maybe even possessiveness.
But love was what she wanted to see and she was certain it was her own wishful imagination fabricating the emotions she yearned for. She'd promised herself, and him, no strings, no pressure, unconditional love, and she would keep her promise—even if it destroyed her.
"You are incredible," Zack whispered. He wound a strand of her hair around his finger and she smiled, touched anew by his gruff voice.
"I've never had a lover like you," she said softly.
He frowned, his eyes searching her face. "I don't want to hear about any other men. In fact, I want to make you forget anyone else ever existed."
Jenna smiled. He'd already succeeded. He'd ruined her for ever wanting another man. "There's you, only you tonight, Zack."
He brushed a kiss across her forehead, then rose above her and cupped her face to look at him. "I've never, never been with anyone that made me feel the way you do. I've never been this close to another woman, Jen." He exhaled shakily and Jenna realized he was sincere, but that he was on the verge of some sort of apology. "I—"
Jenna pressed her finger to his lips. "I told you, no pressure, no promises, no strings." She glanced down at their nude, sweat-slick bodies. "Just you and me together tonight, Zack. With nothing between us but our need to hold each other, to be together."
He studied her face, his expression intent, and Jenna's heart ached at the loneliness and want she suddenly saw in his eyes. She'd been right before. He was afraid. It wasn't that Zack didn't want someone special, someone to love, but that little lonely boy still lurked inside, the one who had been abandoned and hurt so many times.
"You are the sexiest man I've ever known." Jenna traced her linger over his stubbled jaw. "And the sweetest, and the most tender... this is our fantasy night together, Zack. We can be any way we want."
He captured her mouth and gave her another mind-boggling kiss. When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless, but a lecherous grin stretched across his face. "Our fantasy night, huh?"
She smiled slowly, her voice a low murmur. "Yes. Tell me your fantasy, Zack."
He traced his fingers over her inner thigh. "Well, first of all, I'd make love to you twenty- four hours a day."
A tingle traveled up Jenna's spine, his comment reminding her of the characteristics she'd wanted in a man. She'd only been joking when she'd written down her requirements, but Zack definitely had the stamina.
His eyes darted mischievously around the store, then back to her. "And the second—"
"Oh, no," Jenna said, realizing his intent.
He arched a brow, practically daring her. "My own private show." He lowered his head and nibbled her neck. "I've been fantasizing about you in some of these sexy things since the first day I walked in here. Why don't I pick out my favorites and let's go to my place?"
Jenna laughed, shocked at his admission, but suddenly self-conscious. Then Zack extended his hand and helped her to a sitting position, his heated gaze raking over her with such blatant appreciation that she suddenly felt wicked herself.
"Okay," she said softly. "But only if you do the same for me."
His other brow shot up. "You want me to... to wear some of those... g-string things?"
She nodded. "I get to pick."
He swallowed, his shoulders tensing. "You're kidding?"
"I told you women like to see men in erotic underwear." Her eyes drifted over his taut, masculine features and his body responded with arousal. "Of course I like you best in nothing at all. But that's half the fun—we can always undress each other later."
He pulled her to a standing position, heat simmering between them. "All right. If it pleases you," he said in a husky voice. "As long as the music and champagne last, I'm game, sweetheart."
An unplugged collection of jazz favorites played in the background, and he poured them another glass of champagne. Then they giggled and swept through the store, teasing and laughing as they made their selections.
When her hand curved around a bright yellow net g-string, he remembered the Bee-Stinger and knew he was in big trouble.
* * *
A few minutes later, they arrived at his apartment. With the sleet and icy roads, they'd decided to pick up Chinese food and take it to Zack's and made a picnic in the bedroom.
Zack stripped his shirt and jeans, and lay back on his bed, his head propped on a dozen pillows. He sipped champagne, his pulse racing as Jenna paraded in front of him, modeling everything from a black bustier with red fishnet stockings to the leopard skin thongs and satiny dark green teddy he'd chosen.
With each garment and sashay of her hips, the tension in his body escalated, heat blazing through him until he shifted on the bed, so aroused he wasn't sure he could stand not touching her any longer.
Sultry music floated around him and the heady scents of the candles painted a romantic atmosphere, and Jenna clad in the risqué creations was pure torture. She wiggled her hips wearing a pair of crotchless silver panties and a completely see-through silver bra, and he licked his lips. She looked like a chocolate kiss ready to be devoured. He wanted to make her melt in his hands.
Then she tossed a pair of silver bikini thongs at him and gestured that it was his turn. He slid the tiny fabric on, groaning at how his body was packed into it. And when he stood and saw the dark passionate approval in Jenna's eyes, he felt like he was stepping into unchartered territory and was ready to boldly go where no man had ever ventured.
Or at least where he'd never gone with a woman.
"Maybe you should have drawn yourself in one of my ads," Jenna said, her tongue gliding along her lips as she handed him a pair of leopard-skinned thongs with a zipper in the crotch.
Zack laughed and pulled her to him, ready to start the unveiling, but she waggled the undies in front of him, then sprawled on the pillows, looking provocative and sexy as she stripped the silver and put on the last outfit he'd chosen, the daring black bodystocking. Her red hair fanned across his pillowcases, her soft pink nipples peeking through the lace, making his body twitch with arousal. "Now indulge me," she said softly.
He couldn't resist her sweet plea, and even though he felt like an idiot trying on the decadent pieces of underwear, his chest swelled with pride at the fiery passion in her eyes as she watched him. "And now, the Bee-Stinger," she murmured.
He closed his eyes and groaned. He wasn't normally shy, in fact he'd always been proud of his body, but wearing these skimpy bright pieces of string, well... "Can I at least switch off the light?"
She laughed softly, then propped herself on her side, and leaned her head on one hand. Her long red hair fell over her bare shoulder and her nipple puckered invitingly beneath the black lace. "By all means."
He yanked on the bright, tiny yellow netting and blew out the candles just as she purred, "As a matter of fact, that's the secret to the Bee-Stinger, It glows in the dark."
Her soft laugh invited him to be playful, and he dove onto the
sheets and took her in his arms. One touch led to a feverpitch of lovemaking, and when he finally came inside her this time, he collapsed against her, his breathing labored as emotions suffused him.
Hours later, after three more rounds of lovemaking, Zack lay awake, watching Jenna sleep. He should be exhausted, but adrenaline was still pumping through him.
She sighed and curled into him, and he cuddled her closer, marveling at how vulnerable yet giving she seemed, even in her sleep. Something wonderful had happened between them during the long intimate night, and he'd be a fool not to know it.
But could he give her what she wanted? Love, commitment, marriage?
Forever?
Chapter 9
Zack's gut tightened when he rolled over to see Jenna lying beside him. She looked absolutely beautiful in his bed. Her gorgeous red hair was tousled, her shoulders bare above the sheets, and her lips swollen with his kisses.
He'd branded her his all during the night and he wanted to do it all over again.
The early morning light silhouetted her heart-shaped face giving her an ethereal glow, and for the first time in his life, he envisioned waking up to the same woman every morning. To his surprise, he didn't break out in a major sweat and his blood pressure didn't feel as if it was going to bounce off the charts. Maybe there was hope for him.
Maybe Mark was right; his father had always chosen the wrong type of woman for marriage. Maybe he could give this commitment thing a try.
He would start today.
Suddenly though his heart started drumming, perspiration beaded on his neck, and he could barely breathe.
He threw the covers off of him and climbed from bed. "I have to leave for work," he mumbled.
Jenna simply smiled and nodded, then slid on her robe as she stood. "I have to go home and shower and open up the store, too."
He glanced at the bed where they'd spent the night. He would never forget the way Jenna had looked sprawled-out, dressed in her naughtiest lingerie just for him. She looked sleepy and tumbled from their lovemaking, and he wanted to grab her and start the night all over again.
She moved toward him at the same time he moved toward her. Their hands collided as he reached out to cup her chin. "I—"
"It was a wonderful night." Jenna said softly. "A great way to close our business deal."
His smile faded. "Yes, it was incredible, Jenna. It meant more to me than you know."
Jenna squeezed his hand and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, then brushed past him.
Suddenly he felt bereft at the loss of physical contact.
"The chemistry was there all right," Jenna said lightly. "I suppose it's good we purged those sexual feelings from our systems."
His jaw clenched. "Excuse me?"
She removed her brush from her purse and spoke casually, but her hand trembled slightly as she pulled it through her tangled hair. "I said it's a good thing—"
He cut her off by taking the brush from her hand and dragging it through the long tresses himself. "I heard you the first time."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because I don't believe you."
She shrugged, but when she glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes were a little too bright, and he wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers. "I promised you no strings, no commitments, Zack. That was what last night was all about."
"Jenna—"
"Shh," she whispered. She stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his mouth. "It was our fantasy night. But just a fantasy. So let's just leave it at that."
* * *
It was our fantasy night. But just a fantasy.
Hell, it felt pretty damn real to him.
And leave it at that?
How could he leave it like that when he already wanted to do it again?
It was exactly the type of night he'd wanted. The kind of earth shattering, sexual encounter his dreams were made of.
So why the hell had her dismissal cut him to the bone?
He gritted his teeth as he entered his office. Several message slips were stacked on his desk, and he thumbed through them, prioritizing them as to whom to call first
But his body was taut with tension. Had Jenna meant they would never sleep together again? That once his work for her was done, that he'd never even see her again?
That they'd be friends.
Friends? How could he be friends with her after tasting and touching every glorious inch of her body?
Friends meant chatting and having dinner and talking about dates with other people. Sharing sexual escapades. Invitations to each other weddings.
Perspiration trickled down his jaw. Hell, he didn't want to hear about her dates with other men. Especially her sex life with them. And he certainly did not want to see her walk down the aisle with some idiot.
He reached for the phone but as he went down the list returning calls, he could hardly focus. Instead his mind kept replaying that damned conversation.
Dammit. He should have been ecstatic, relieved even—Jenna had given him the perfect night, the kind of no-strings, wild, spectacular sex he'd only imagined existed before, then she'd let him off the hook without demanding more. Just what he wanted.
Or so he thought.
Now he wasn't so sure.
His stomach had a knot in it the size of a basketball, and he'd swallowed half a roll of antacids while he attempted to finish a bid on the detergent campaign. He'd never been so uninspired to draw in his life. At least not to draw something for an ad.
No, hell no. He sat down and did what he always did to purse his nerves.
He began to sketch. Jenna wearing that skimpy lingerie she'd modeled for him the night before. Jenna naked...
By god, he wanted to call her and ask her for a lunch rendezvous where they could both get naked again.
The sketches taunted him again. Jenna in that g-string, Jenna lying on top of the pillows watching him model for her, Jenna wearing the bridal peignoir set he'd seen hanging on the mannequin, Jenna pregnant.
Jenna and him wrinkled and old sitting in rocking chairs with dozens of grandchildren running around them.
He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. The g-string was right. But the bridal set and Jenna pregnant... he wasn't ready for that.
The wind suddenly whipped through the window, scattering his papers, and he scrambled to retrieve them, then stuck the drawings of Jenna in his private portfolio and his work sketches into Washburn's file.
Damn. He glanced at his watch. He'd drop off the sketches, then check up on some of his other accounts. Anything to distract him from the woman whose sweet dismissal had jarred his senses like a bad toothache.
Hell, if he didn't think fast she'd probably go ahead with her stupid husband hunting farce and he'd lose her forever.
He'd do whatever he had to in order to keep her from writing him off.
Anything except walk down that aisle...
* * *
"So, how was your class last night?" Angel asked as she scurried into the shop for the afternoon shift.
"I missed it." Jenna gulped a mouthful of coffee and pasted on a bright smile, her eyes riveted to the floor where she and Zack had made love. She'd put the pillows and afghan in the back to take home and replaced them with others, ridiculously afraid that anyone who walked in would know what had happened the night before.
"What gives, Jen? Aren't you feeling well?"
Jenna faced her friend, grateful the lunch crowd had died down and the store was empty. "No, I'm not. I'm in love."
"But that's wonderful." Angel's brown eyes widened.
Jenna shook her head. "No, it's awful."
Angel rubbed her hand in circles over her abdomen. "Oh, no, honey. Not the anti-marriage ad hunk?"
"Uh-huh."
Angel sighed sympathetically, and Jenna couldn't help herself. She fell into her best friend's arms and began to sob.
* * *
Zack paced his office, the phone plastered to his ear, a
s he waited on Washburn to take his call. Finally, the man answered.
"I love the sketches," Washburn said without preamble. "Meet me in half an hour for drinks at the Blue Ribbon Diner on Third Street and we'll discuss the details."
"Great." Relief filled Zack at the excitement in Washburn's voice. They ended the call, and Zack dashed to his car, anxious to close the deal. Once he had this account, he would have some security. With financial stability, maybe he could concentrate on figuring out how to overcome his fear of commitment.
Then he could keep Jenna from continuing her foolish husband hunt. An idea struck him, and he grinned. Maybe he'd keep her so sated with his lovemaking, she wouldn't be able to even talk or look at another man. At least that could buy him some time.
What if she refuses to sleep with you again?
Panic clawed at him at the thought. But the cool air outside hit him like a breath of hope and he climbed into his car, contemplating how best to broach the subject. A billboard advertising a local restaurant sparked an idea.
He would handle Jenna exactly like he would an account he was trying to land. He'd run a full- fledged campaign with flowers, a romantic singing telegram, maybe even a cute, silly slogan.
He'd been saying no to marriage all along, but maybe he could persuade her to compromise. She could promise not to date anyone else until they resolved the explosive feelings between them. Yes, an exclusive arrangement might just do the trick and tide her over until their feelings played out for each other.
Maybe it would be enough. It had to be.
He picked up his cell phone, punched in the number to a local florist and ordered a dozen long- stemmed red roses to be delivered to Jenna's shop with a card that read, "Thanks for a fantasy night."
A few minutes later, he checked his appearance, glad he'd worn his nicest pair of chino slacks and a tie and strolled into the Blue Ribbon Diner. Washburn was sitting at a corner booth already sipping a frosty beer. He waved him over with a wide grin, and Zack relaxed.
