by Lynn Burke
“If I ever got her alone there’d be a whole lot of touching going on. Wouldn’t be able to resist. Papa’d kill me if I took an employee out.”
“Not like you haven’t done it before. Or Theo for that matter.” Cole’s chuckle made me grin. “And, you both are very much alive.”
“True. Very, very true.”
Chapter Four
I stood by the copier, my back to Cole’s door when I heard it pull open. Feigning focus on setting up a large brochure job, I listened as Zane bid his brother goodbye and the door closed.
No footfalls reached my straining ears. Awareness prickled a second before the scent of wintergreen and Zane’s musky aftershave swarmed my senses, tensing my body.
“Have dinner with me.”
I closed my eyes, torn and dying inside from having to decline again. “I can’t,” I said with a squeak.
“Just dinner. I promise I won’t touch you.” His breath caressed my neck, bringing the throb between my thighs back to life. “Unless you want me to.”
Therein lay the problem. I was way too tempted, like Eve with the forbidden fruit. “You’re evil.”
Zane laughed, and the energy zinging my skin backed off. I managed to draw an easier breath and turned, papers clutched to my chest.
“Have dinner with me,” he said again, the smile fading from his lips.
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
I nodded, smoothing back my hair, a nervous tick I’d picked up whenever in his presence.
Laughter glinted in his eyes, but the kind that sent shivers racing down my spine. Cocky, confident glee that let me know he knew exactly what I really wanted.
“See you tomorrow, gorgeous.”
He sauntered away, and I let out my held breath.
****
Two weeks later, and still sticking to my guns when it came to Zane Risso, I took the plunge and signed a year lease with my best friend Jenny. After twenty-four years of living at home, I decided it was time to pull up my big girl panties and move out.
I was ready to stretch my legs. Become my own woman. Not that I had any intentions of boozing it up or whoring around. My parents taught me better.
“So, did Zane demand you go out to dinner with him again today?”
I glanced up from the box of plates I was unpacking. Jenny’s black eyebrow raised along with her smirk across the table where she unwrapped extra mugs my mother had given to us. “Yes.”
“Every day for the past two weeks. You’ve got to give him credit for being persistent.”
“I suppose.” I sighed and pulled out another plate.
“It’s Friday night.” Jenny slapped her palm on the table we’d found at the local Goodwill store, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Our first night as independent women. Let’s go out.”
“Out? Like where?”
She shrugged, taking in my paint-splattered T-shirt. A sideways smirk put me on edge. “Let’s go get a drink.”
“What?”
Her grin widened. “You know. A drink.”
I placed the plate back down. “As in alcohol?”
“Why not?”
“We don’t drink.”
“What you mean is we haven’t.”
I chewed the inside of my lip while clutching the box’s top flaps.
“Come on, Raq. One drink to celebrate.”
Glancing around at the piles of boxes waiting for our attention overwhelmed my already exhausted mind. Just her and I. We could sit in a quiet, dark corner, and no one would be the wiser. My lips twitched. “Oh, why not. I always wanted to try sex on the beach.”
Jenny’s laughter rang in my ears.
I feared I’d agreed to the beginning of my demise, but that didn’t stop me from pulling on jeans and a sweater, and following her out the door a half-hour later.
We walked through a light dusting of snow to Dominicks, a corner bar two blocks up the street. My neck tingled the entire time as though someone watched me. Probably my guardian angel with a disproving frown.
The bar was packed, loud, and smelled like greasy burgers and fries. My mouth watered as I followed, head down, after Jenny who nabbed a table against the far wall. She slid onto the high-backed stool, facing the room, giving me a view of the framed 8x10s of celebrities who’d visited and partied with the locals.
“Louder than I thought it’d be,” Jenny said, her voice raised.
“Yeah.”
A bleached blonde, breasts spilling from her tight halter top, stopped beside us. “What can I get for ya?”
“Two sex on the beach, please,” Jenny said, grinning ear to ear.
The waitress left us, and I frowned. “Our first time out and we don’t even get carded.”
“Kinda disappointing.”
“Yeah.” I angled my chair to check out the rest of the place. A guy at the neighboring table smiled at me, but I ignored him, filling my eyes with scenes I’d only ever read about. Grinding couples bumped in front of the stage and live band. Loud drunks laughed and slurred their words a few feet away while the bartender tossed bottles in the air before pouring with a flourish.
A tall, dark-haired man walked in and scanned the crowd until his gaze met mine.
I gasped and turned back toward Jenny, my heart thumping.
“What?”
“Zane Risso,” I squeaked and tilted my head toward the entrance.
Jenny’s eyes widened. “Holy crap! That is Zane?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to swallow. Of all the places Jenny insisted we sneak out to, and it had to be one of his haunts.
“Glory hallelujah that man is hot.” Her gaze roamed over my shoulder as though tracking his movements. “Oh, good Lord.” She gasped.
“What?”
“He’s staring at you and coming straight toward us.”
Good Lord was right. Every cell in my body flared to life, and I froze, fingers digging into the small purse on my lap.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
His voice poured over me like warm caramel sauce, making my tongue want to dart out for a taste. I forced my neck to turn. “Mr. Risso.” I sounded desperate for air, like I’d just finished the Boston Marathon.
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s Zane? Please.” He lifted his gaze to Jenny, his expression bland as though he wasn’t moved by her Latin beauty as most men from our church and singles group seemed to be.
“My friend, Jenny,” I remembered to say.
“Zane Risso.” He stretched out his hand to my silent, staring friend.
She grasped his hand, visibly gulping.
“Jenny’s kind of shy,” I said as her cheeks tinged pink.
“This seat taken?” Zane asked while sliding onto the stool beside me.
“It is now.” I tucked my hair behind my ears, unsure what else to say or do.
“You ought to wear your hair down like that at work,” Zane said, his sensual voice making me shift.
Our waitress returned and sat our drinks down. She turned a dazzling smile on Zane. “What’ll be, handsome?”
He stared at me, and I fiddled with the edge of my sweater. “Sam Adams.”
She moved away without another word.
“Thanks for the compliment, but … uh … you broke our waitress’s heart.” My shaky laugh betrayed my nervousness.
“Not interested in her, so why give false hope?” He glanced at our glasses. “What are you drinking?”
I pulled the glass toward me and sniffed, wrinkling my nose. “Sex on the beach.”
He choked on laughter. “Your first drink, isn’t it?”
My face heated. “Yes.”
“Raquel Hawkins is about to corrupt herself.” He turned toward Jenny with a grin. “Your doing?”
Face still red, my friend returned his smile. “Yes, and it’s about time. For both of us.” She lifted her glass as the waitress placed a bottle before Zane and moved off. “A toast. To the corruption of our souls
,” Jenny said, giggling.
We all clinked together, Zane’s “amen” not lost on my ears.
“Since you’re determined to ruin your soul,” Zane said after swallowing a mouthful of his beer, “have dinner with me tomorrow night, Raquel.”
I shook my head and sipped from my straw again, although the taste about gagged me.
Jenny peered at me, eyebrows raised with a “what the hell are you saying no for?” in her eyes.
An exaggerated sigh puffed from his luscious-looking lips, and I stared. I couldn’t help myself. Jenny kicked me under the table.
“We got our own place,” she said. “Signed the lease two days ago.”
“Close by?” Zane angled toward me on his stool, one arm draped across the high-back.
I swallowed down more of my disgusting drink and cringed. “Two blocks.”
“Must be nice to finally be out on your own.”
“Yeah.”
Zane leaned onto the table, crossing his arms. “So what other plans do you ladies have now that you’re out from behind your parents’ prison bars?”
Jenny giggled and lifted her glass. “We haven’t made any yet, but I’m surprised I even got Raq to agree to come here.”
“Kudos to you. I can’t get her to go anywhere with me.”
Heat coated my face again, and I glanced up to find him staring me with panty-melting heat in his eyes. I picked up my glass and toyed with the straw before forcing myself to drink again.
“She’s saving herself for Mr. Perfect, and you’re too much of a temptation.”
I kicked Jenny beneath the table with a “What the heck?” wide-eyed stare. Spilling my secrets like a drunken fool.
“Temptation?” Zane chuckled. “I doubt she understands the word.”
“Assume much?” Annoyance coated my words. “I’m not as naïve as you think, Mr. Risso.”
“Zane.”
“Whatever.”
“Feisty.” He grinned and glanced at Jenny. “What other surprises does she have in store for me?”
“I’m right here, Zane.”
Holy Cow, those eyes landed on me and his smile dissolved, bringing my body to life. “Indeed you are.”
My annoyance melted as nervous flutters took over my stomach, and I turned my attention to the band. I didn’t hear the music past the buzzing between my ears, but face hot and skin tingling, I finished my drink, which tasted a little better.
A few more minutes, and I felt downright giddy. Relaxed for the first time in Zane’s presence, I decided that having a bit of alcohol and getting tipsy wasn’t nearly as horrible as my parents had claimed.
Chapter Five
“Dance with me,” I said, leaning toward Raquel to breathe in her berries and cream scent.
She bit down on her lower lip, but didn’t meet my gaze or answer.
“One dance.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Come on. A little more corruption won’t kill you.”
She glanced up at me, a wry expression raising her brow.
“Come on, woman! You’re killing me.”
“Oh, put the poor guy out of his misery.” Jenny giggled, her low tolerance showing more than Raquel’s with slurred words and waving hands. “Go on.”
Raquel heaved a breath, her breasts rising, and I fought not to lower my gaze. “All right. One dance.”
Tugging her out among the other swaying couples, I was glad a slower song poured from the crooner on stage. While grinding would have been hot—exactly what my cock wanted—I needed to take it easy and not scare her off.
I spun her close and grasped her waist.
Bottom lip between her teeth, she stared at my chest and draped her hands on my shoulders.
I leaned down so she’d hear me over the loud music. “It’s a shame Papa won’t let the ladies wear jeans to work. God knows checking you out would brighten every day.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she still wouldn’t look up at me. Stiff and awkward on her feet, I realized what the problem was. “You’ve never danced with a man before, have you?”
She shook her head.
Pleased to be her first, I encouraged her closer until our bodies brushed. Her lips parted, the artery in her neck pumping like mad. I’d promised not to touch her unless she wanted me to. Yeah, she wanted me to all right. No doubt about it.
She closed her eyes, and I leaned down again, breathing deep of her berry scent. “You all right?”
“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “More than all right.”
I stepped back as her head jerked up, cheeks crimson as though the words escaped unfiltered.
Fuck yeah.
Unable to help my grin, I pulled her flush up against me, her breasts a soft cushion against my lower pecs.
From behind those hot glasses, her pupils dilated, and she fuckin’ sagged against me like she had no strength in her legs. Plump lips begged for my teeth, the smooth skin of her neck made me drool. I wanted to plunder like a fuckin’ pirate. Take what my cock desired and finally get her out of my system. Off my damn mind. Too bad I’d promised not to touch her.
Her fingers tightened in my hair, and I realized we’d stopped dancing. She gazed up at me. Expectant. In offering.
I lowered my head, my mouth hovering a few inches from hers. “I’d give a million dollars to kiss those lips of yours right now.”
She closed the distance between us.
Fuckin’ fireworks blasted behind my eyelids, my heart and soul sizzled from Raquel’s branding. My mother-fuckin’ ears rang. The rumble against my chest let me know she moaned, but I didn’t hear a goddamn thing over the booming in my ears.
Velvety soft, like a peach, her lips brushed against mine. Parted at the slight sweep of my tongue. God, she tasted like Sweet Tarts and vodka. So fuckin’ sweet. Barely able to keep my hands from feeling up her beautiful ass, I tasted—devoured—every inch of her mouth.
Time didn’t exist as I breathed in her exhales. Cradled her head in my hands as though she was a porcelain doll, fragile and in need of protection.
She backed away, her chest rising and falling as fast as mine.
What. The. Fuck.
I stared into her eyes, and the world silenced. Never—not once in my life—had I experienced desire like the need coursing through my fuckin’ blood like a raging nor’easter.
Sprawling her out on my bed for a onetime feast of pain and pleasure wouldn’t be nearly as fulfilling as I’d hoped. I’d send her away, my body still craving. Starved for her taste. Her breath.
Fuck.
I stepped back, grabbed her hand, and led her back to her friend, needing to escape, needing to get my fuckin’ head screwed on straight before taking what I wanted.
Oh, I planned on getting as far as I could, but it wouldn’t be because alcohol hindered her ability to think—or because I had fuckin’ feelings rising to the surface. I wanted her, eyes wide open, willing and wanting, without a reason for her to call foul, my selfish prick attitude firmly in place.
She slumped into her chair, her friend glancing open-mouthed between the two of us.
“It was nice meeting you, Jenny.” I turned to Raquel who stared at her empty cup. “Have dinner with me tomorrow.”
She lifted her chin. “Are you always so bossy?”
God, if only she knew how much I loved to dish out orders. “Would you please have dinner with me, Raquel?” I asked.
“No.”
Jenny gasped. “Raq!”
“I … I can’t.” Raquel tried for a smile but failed.
I put both of my palms on the table, my face inches from hers. “I’ll ask again. Every day until you relent.”
She cast her gaze downward, making my inner Dom want to play. “You’re in for a long wait, Zane Risso.”
I flashed my teeth at her. Game on.
****
Theo called me a few times over the weekend, trying to get me to go to Chantelles, but I didn’t have the energy or desire.
“The fuck has gotten in
to you?” Theo’s voice bellowed through my cell.
I propped my feet up on my coffee table and flicked through a few channels until I found Sunday Night Football. “Nothin’.”
“Bullshit. It’s usually you dragging my sorry ass out to get some action. Who is she?”
I swigged from my cold winter lager, my stomach tight as a mother fucker. “Who is who?”
“Whoever the hell has sunk her damn claws into you.” His exasperated exhale had me pulling my cell away from my ear again. “What witch cast her spell and tamed the selfish prick?”
I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself. “I’ll never be tamed.”
“Coulda fuckin’ fooled me,” he grumbled. “Just like the rest of our buddies … find a good woman, agree to a ball and chain, and become a world class bore.”
“Fuck you.”
“I don’t do blood, cuz.”
“Fuck off, then.” I took a long pull of my beer.
“Damn, man. Tell me I’m not right. Tell me you’re just in some fucked up funk.”
I shifted on my leather couch, but kept my tone level. “I’m just in some fucked up funk.”
“Thank God. Next weekend?”
“Yeah, sure.” Another minute of his bellyaching about not getting any action that weekend, and I hit the end button and tossed my phone onto the cushion beside me. “Fuck.”
****
Wednesday night family dinners sucked. No matter how hard I tried, I showed up late and pissed Papa off.
Mom met me at the door as always with a smile, kiss, and lingering hug—the highlight of the night. She pulled back and peered up at me with the same blue eyes I saw every morning in the mirror. “How are you, Zane?”
“Good.”
“Liar.”
I quirked a smirk and glanced away. “I’m good. Really.”
She murmured a noise of disbelief, and taking my arm, led me toward the dining room. We walked through the arched doorway, and everyone present smiled, Papa included.
A shiver slid down my spine as I halted in my tracks.
“Zane!” Lia hurried to me, greeting me like Mom did. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, pulling away, hands gripping my upper arms and peering up at me.
