by Ryanne Corey
“Thank you,” Anna said softly, trying not to sound disappointed. Be careful of what you want, she thought, because you just might get it.
“I didn’t do that right,” Zack said sadly. “Just one more, and I promise not to mess this one up. Do you mind?”
His smile stretched at that; so did hers. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Zack to pull her close again, his chest making a tantalizing, caressing weight on her breasts. His hips found hers, pushing with the faintest, unconscious yearning. Seeking against her mouth, his lips carefully urged hers into a heated openness, as if she were a prized, very rare delicacy he was tasting for the first time. His tongue touched inside her mouth, and he heard the sudden hiss of her indrawn breath. He thought nothing had ever felt so good in his entire life as this kiss.
He couldn’t bring himself to pull away completely. Instead, he rested his forehead on hers, his lips parted on uneven breaths. His hands stroked her hair, again and again. Meanwhile, he chanted his own silent mantra: I am not taking this further. I am not taking this further….
Anna’s throat was tight and burning. It was amazing, knowing how Zack’s body yearning against hers could affect her. And, in a strange way, it was also frightening.
She knew what he was, who he was. Zack was just a fleeting moment in her life, someone who was just visiting her peaceful, predictable world. She craved permanence. He lived for the heat of the moment. Again, two polar opposites into one did not go. But how could she cope with the sizzling frenzy of need he’d kindled to life within her? She was no longer in this strange relationship up to her neck; she was in way, way, way over her head. Even if she gave in to her own pressing need for him, the outcome would still be the same. She would remain in Grayland Beach with her house and her friends and her snug little life. He would go off to his next adventure, heroically righting wrongs and fighting injustice along the way. And yet, some devil made her say softly, like a child asking for a treat, “One more kiss, Zack. Please.”
She wasn’t making this easy, Zack thought desperately, stung by the midnight-blue passion in her eyes. And with his limited control where she was concerned, anything could happen if he let down his guard. He lowered his head, gently ruffling soft kisses along her cheek. He didn’t mean to let it go further, but it seemed the road to hell—and possibly heaven—was paved with good intentions. His questing lips found hers again, his entire world narrowed to her silk-and-satin mouth. Caution turned to frantic, fierce hunger without asking permission. Her body felt so small, so delicate, and he could feel the warmth of her skin through the clothes she wore. He kissed, he drank deeply, then his seeking mouth danced in sweet disbelief over her face, her neck, her hair. His hand curled over the burgeoning curve of her breast, and discovered that her thundering pulse matched his own. He fed on her and she on him, desperately needy. He truly didn’t know how long they stood fused together, how many kisses he gave or how many kisses she returned. It might have been a minute, ten minutes, longer. Her hips were pushing hard against his and her breath was coming in hard catches. Zack’s blood was eighty-proof adrenaline, zinging through his veins. He knew he was in trouble, and trouble had never frightened him like it did now.
Her eyelids had drifted closed, but Zack forced his to open. Fortitude, he thought grimly. That’s the ticket. Despite his show of false confidence, he didn’t trust himself one iota, not when it came to this incredibly appealing woman. Lips still on hers, he focused fiercely on a miniature Victorian lamp next to the bed. Bulb, he thought, stained glass, pull chain, red fringe. These thoughts were meant to keep his mind off what he was doing, but it was a lot to expect from a little Victorian lamp. If just kissing her was this hard on his willpower, what would eight hours sleeping next to her on a mattress do to him?
And then his eyes closed again and his thought processes shut down. He was only a man, and it seemed some things were out of the realm of possibility. Before Zack knew what had happened, he was sitting on the bed with Anna. His heart literally jumped with the shock of having so little control. He stood up so rapidly that Anna fell backward on the bed with a little gasp.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Zack muttered, wishing there was a third person somewhere in the room to physically restrain him from going back to kissing her. Instead, he had to depend only on himself, and he didn’t feel terribly dependable. “Anna, despite the way it looked, I didn’t plan that. Tell me to go sleep in the closet and I will. Tell me to make a bed in the bathtub and I will. I promise not to touch you again.”
Softly, with an earnest look from her big, sad eyes, “Ever?”
“Hell, no. This is only an eight-hour promise, kiddo.” Then, catching the expression on her face, he sighed deeply. “You’re teasing me. The kidder has been kidded.”
“Yes,” Anna admitted, grinning a little. “I was teasing you, Mr. Romantic Policeman. You see? I do trust you, Zack. This is tricky, but not impossible. I could hardly make jokes if I was worried about losing my virtue.”
Mentally Zack did a double take. “What? Anna? What’s that you said about your virtue?”
Anna sat up on the edge of the bed, hands propped behind to steady her shaky body. “I said I’m not worried about losing it in the dead of night. Are you all right?”
“Of course. No. I don’t know. I was just…putting two and two together, so to speak. So, you’ve never…you are still…”
“A virgin,” she supplied, pulling a face. “What can I say? I guess I’m terribly picky.” Silence took over. It was very loud. Finally Anna stood up, looking uncertainly around the room. The magic had disappeared, and acute self-consciousness had taken over. “Well…I guess we should get some sleep. You don’t need to worry about going in the closet, Zack. I do trust you. Strangely, right now it’s myself I don’t trust.”
“What are you afraid of?” he asked softly, his hand touching her arm.
“That’s a good question.” She deliberately avoided his eyes, looking down at the floor. “I suppose…I know what’s good for me and I know what’s risky. I always have. The thing that scares me is that I’m starting not to care.”
“I’m not such a bad guy,” he replied quietly. “Maybe you should give me a chance to prove it.”
She smiled faintly. “I know you’re not a bad guy, Zack. It’s me. I’ve always known what I needed to be happy. I’m an old-fashioned girl. I like predictability and security. But you…you’re like a summer storm. They’re absolutely amazing up here on the coast. Fast, unexpected, mesmerizing…and then gone as quickly as they came. You aren’t good for me that way. What’s more, I think you know it as well as I do.”
And what could he say to that? Zack understood her completely. He knew what he was, and he knew what he wasn’t. But oh, how he wanted her. How very much he wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that she could depend on him. Unfortunately, nothing in his life had ever convinced him that he was a man that a woman could depend on in the long run.
In his mind’s eye, he saw his father. He remembered his bravado and his hollow, quick promises, and he remembered how his mother had withered a little more each time those promises were broken. Zack had always known he had something of his father in him. Fortunately, he had tried to learn from his father’s mistakes. He wouldn’t offer anyone more than he was capable of giving.
He turned away from her, his thoughts burning him. His emotions were no longer segregated in an orderly, comfortable way. He needed her with his body and he needed her with his soul. In those circumstances, acting on that need would be the most selfish thing he could do.
“I’m going downstairs to get a drink,” he muttered. When the going got tough, the tough had a few stiff drinks before their desires got the better of them. “I’ll be back in a while.”
“Zack—”
“No.” He couldn’t take the chance of looking at her and losing his resolve. “Don’t say anything more, Anna. Just let me go.”
Seven
Jus
t let me go.
Anna heard those words echoing in her mind throughout the endless, aching night. She slept intermittently, waking in the early hours of the morning to discover Zack sleeping precariously on the far edge of the mattress, not only fully clothed but also on top of the bedspread. The man was taking no chances when it came to keeping his word. For the first time since her parents had died, Anna felt cherished. Her heart twisted in all directions as a strange acceptance settled gently in her heart. Something was happening in her…or perhaps it had happened some time ago, and she was just understanding it now.
She slipped out of bed and pulled a blanket from the linen closet in the hall, spreading it over him. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but his breathing was irregular, as if his dreams were something less than pleasant. For some strange reason, she, too, chose to stretch out on top of the covers when she got back in bed, pulling the blanket over her, as well. Though she didn’t touch him, she stayed close enough to feel the warmth of his body next to hers.
Anna hadn’t slept in a bed with anyone since leaving her last group home in what seemed like a million years before. Back then, she had usually shared a bed with another girl, as space was always at a premium. The arrangements were never permanent. There were always new places to live—she never thought of them as homes—and new people to get used to. It made Anna very cautious of letting anyone too close too soon.
With her male friends, those men who had known and loved her father, it was different. She knew that whatever happened, they would always be there for her. But loving and being in love were two very different things. Until she was secure enough to take a risk, wagering her emotions had always seemed to be a tricky and precarious business.
And it still was. But suddenly, with Zack, it felt worth the risk.
Anna curled up on her side, watching him sleep for the longest time. Her thoughts were deep and wistful, a woman’s battle between her head and heart. She knew the night hours were dwindling down to a precious few. When the sun rose, this odd stillness, this period of introspection would be lost. Would she ever be able to watch him sleeping again? Nothing was permanent—she’d learned that lesson at an early age. Whether she smiled and loved, or pounded her fists and shed tears of frustration, this night would soon pass into yesterday. Not forgotten, perhaps, but gone.
She became aware of frosty tentacles of fear clutching like a fist in her stomach. Without consciously making the decision, she closed her mind to everything but Zack. Very deliberately, she reached out a hand, resting it gently on his chest. He must have been sleeping lightly, for his eyes flew open immediately.
He turned his head toward her, asking a sleepy question with his eyes. Looking at her face, he realized he already knew the answer. There were no wounds in her shadowed expression, only a soft peace that sent his resolve scurrying in all directions. Panic set in, chattering at him. “Anna—”
“Shhh,” she whispered, placing two fingers over his lips. “No talking, Zack.”
A new light fired in his eyes as they held hers. He kissed the fingers on his lips, then he turned her hand over and kissed the sensitive skin of her palm. His muscles felt tight with the strain of wanting her. He no longer cared whether this was right or wrong. It was vital to him, just as vital as water and oxygen. It may have been his sleep-dulled mind, or the whiskey he’d had before coming back upstairs, but he was floating in a cloud of desire. He didn’t want to think, not right now. He wanted to feel.
His expression was oddly tense as he stared at her. She was wearing some sort of pajama thing that looked like thermal underwear, and her hair was spread out over the pillow, clinging to her neck and curving around her face like a lovely velvet frame. She could cover herself with sackcloth and ashes, and it wouldn’t dull her beauty. Or his need.
Again he asked the question with his glittering eyes. Again she gave him her answer, smiling ever so faintly. The desire that gave Zack no peace remained with him, a pitiless yearning. His pulse had become fast and hard, like steady running water. What had ever made him think he had control over this? Making love to Anna was inevitable, and had been since the first moment he saw her. Needing some sort of reassurance from someone wiser than himself, he looked above her head, staring out the window at the brilliant diadem of age-old stars. He felt like he had never really seen them before. Someone had control of this strange, sometimes hostile world, someone kind enough to light the darkness with the moon and the stars. In the past Zack hadn’t often looked up at the night sky, usually because he was always busy watching his back. How strange that he could have gone so long without looking at the stars. He’d always been so concerned with the bad things in life that he’d missed much of the good. It was the nature of his work, and his work had been his life.
He turned on his side, face-to-face with Anna. He fell into her eyes, stunned at the wealth of emotion there. He felt himself slide right past his breaking point without even pausing, and found it hard to care. By bowing to her own need, Anna had freed him from his conscience. Wise or foolish, they had both made their choices.
His eyes skimmed her face, her hair, her lips. He lifted his hand almost as if in a trance, smoothing her hair, startled at the cool softness. How could anything in this room be cool when he was burning alive?
Her eyes shone like sapphires in her shadowed face. Zack searched them, but could see no sign of regret or uncertainty. He felt like a green schoolboy who had just been granted one wish. Shaking a little, he rose up on one elbow and kissed her softly on her forehead. His lips stayed close, his heart pounding, his breath tickling her skin. He felt her chest rise and fall with a shaky sigh. Looking down in her face, he found her watching him with a dizzying, drunk-on-love gaze. Holding her eyes, he kissed her gently on her rosebud lips. The kiss was tame for a moment, then immediately heated into a frenzy. He kissed her again and again, hands searching, mouth tasting, all the while wanting more and more and more. His need escalated almost instantly; he could hardly keep pace with it. His hands were on her face, holding her for his hungry mouth.
Anna was gasping, but there was no air in the room. She was light-headed, and way down in her belly she felt something twist, tighten and burn, all at once. Her anxious hands pushed back the material of his wrinkled, untucked shirt, yearning for smooth skin. She learned the curves of his chest, the flat ridges and rock-hard planes. She had never been hungry for a man before tonight. Her mind didn’t know what it was to physically ache for someone. Her body had never felt empty before, or so anxious to be filled.
Until now. Until Zack, with his silver, restless eyes and sweet, wayward smile. How had she gone so long without this?
She was squirming on the bed, kicking impatiently at the covers. She had too many layers covering her, and that included her ugly-as-sin pajamas. Whatever had made her think that covering her body would cover her desire? Some things could never be changed, stifled or ignored. She wasn’t in control of everything and probably never could be. Learning this lesson was somehow a relief.
Zack’s heart was out of control. It had never been like this before, never. Moonlight gleamed over her hair, giving her an ethereal glow. Her rose-petal lips were dewed and swollen, parted on every gasping breath she took. She returned his stare fearlessly, and he saw something in her expression he hadn’t noticed before: a gentle benediction. She had dedicated herself to him like an apostle, offering herself freely and willingly. There would be no turning back.
“Anna—”
“Don’t.” Again she shushed him with a shaky smile. She didn’t want words right now. They got in the way. She looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to her chest and holding him tightly. Her breasts felt heavily weighted, aching to be touched. She wanted him everywhere, all over her body, within her body. Her hips began to move restlessly on the mattress. Nature was having her way with Anna, and she was relishing each and every second.
As if reading her mind, Zack’s hungry hands pushed up the loose
top of her pajamas, his palms finding the warm fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were as hard as pebbles, her heart was jumping frantically beneath her delicate skin. His mouth followed his hands, caressing her body with his lips and tongue. He suckled, he traced hot circles with his tongue. His hands slipped to her waist, but there he found the damned pajamas again. With short work, he had them off, tossing first the bottoms, then the top, over his shoulder and against the far wall. Needing became painful. His own clothes were stifling him, hot and heavy and frustrating.
He left her for a moment, making Anna smile with the way he took off his shirt, pulling it by the neck over his head without any thought given to make it look sexy. He emerged with his hair tumbled every which way and his smile self-consciously crooked. He shucked off his jeans, color staining his cheeks. Where had all his old confidence gone, all the smooth moves that had come so naturally to him? All the experience in the world couldn’t have prepared him for this night with Anna.
She groaned with shocked pleasure when he came back to her, skin against skin. Never before in her life had she abandoned thought like this. There had been times when she had come close, but her fear of surrendering control had always kept her physical and emotional walls firmly between herself and the rest of the world. Tonight there were no walls; her long-suppressed wildness surprised her as much as it did Zack. Her enormous eyes were sweet and hot with passion.
He stared down at her face, his jaw clenched with a stabbing hunger. His wanting was crossing from pleasure to pain. It had never happened to him so quickly before, or so intensely. It had all been a game, and games offered only a brief enjoyment. Loving Anna was no game.
He could have stared at her forever, but if he only stared, it would kill him soon. Everything she was, everything he saw in her, begged to be possessed. His gaze moved hungrily over her face, her mouth, her body. Her shadowed cleavage tempted him with a siren’s call, her flawless skin gleaming with hot, golden moisture. He loved her with his hands and with his lips, everywhere. In turn, she gave him a blizzard of tiny, nerve-shuddering openmouthed kisses, everywhere she could reach.
