But the feeble protest of his conscience wasn't enough to deter him. He wanted her. He had to have her. He was going to have her. Fate had deprived him of his dignity, his freedom, and his future, but it had for some reason given her to him during these brief days of what was likely to be the end of his life. Neither his conscience nor anything else was going to deprive him of having her. Unaware of the passage of time, he stared at her until her shaky voice snapped him from his thoughts, and her words were poignant testimony to her lack of experience with men. "I didn't expect you to be angry," she said, completely misinterpreting the reason for his silence.
With a harsh sigh, he said, "I'm angry with myself, not you."
Julie searched his face. "Why?"
"Because," he said gruffly, "it isn't going to stop me. Because it isn't going to matter a damn to me that you've never done this before, not even with someone who loved you or who could stay with you if he got you pregnant. Nothing matters to me right now…" he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers, "but this…"
But her inexperience did matter. It mattered enough to Zack to make him break off the kiss and try to get his lust under control, so that he could start over with her. "Come here," he whispered, gathering her into his arms and rolling onto his side so that she was facing him, her head pillowed against his shoulder. Breathing deeply, he waited for his pulse to return to normal, slowly running his hand down her trim back in a soothing caress, while he resolved to make this good for her, even if he died of unassuaged lust in the process. Somehow, he was going to have to arouse her thoroughly without arousing himself more than he already was.
Julie lay in his arms, bewildered by the sudden change in his mood and terrified that, despite his words to the contrary, she'd apparently turned him off on the idea of making love altogether. Unable to stand it any longer, she kept her eyes on his throat and said shakily, "I didn't mean to make such a—a big deal out of this being my first time. I was only trying to slow you down a little—not stop you."
Zack knew how hard it must have been for her to say a thing like that, and he felt another unfamiliar surge of tenderness toward her as he tipped her chin up and said with quiet gravity, "Don't spoil this for either of us by belittling its importance. The truth is, I've never had the responsibility—or the privilege—of being a woman's first lover, so it's a first time for me, too." Lifting his hand, he brushed her tousled hair off her cheek, slowly combing his fingers through it, watching it spill over her left shoulder as he mused aloud, "You must have been driving the boys in Keaton crazy all these years, wondering what you'd be like."
"What do you mean?"
He pulled his gaze from her hair and smiled wryly into her eyes. "I mean that I've been fantasizing about running my fingers through this gorgeous mane of yours since yesterday, and I'd only been looking at it for two days."
Julie felt a warmth begin to seep through her entire body at his stirring words, and Zack instantly sensed the change in her expression and the way her body relaxed against his. Belatedly remembering that words could arouse a woman almost as well and as quickly as the most skillful sexual stimulation, Zack realized that was also the best way to accomplish his goal without driving himself to the dangerous extremes of lust that came with touching and kissing her. Softly and truthfully, he confessed, "Do you know what I was thinking last night during dinner?"
She shook her head.
"I was wondering how your mouth would taste on mine, and if your skin could possibly feel as soft as it looks."
Julie felt herself sinking into a deep, delicious sensual spell as he spread his fingers over her cheek and said, "Your skin is even softer than it looks." His thumb moved over her lips and his eyes watched the movement. "And your mouth … God, you taste like heaven." His hand slid inexorably down her throat, over her shoulder, then slowly covered her breast, and she dropped her gaze to the mat of dark, curly hair on his chest.
"Don't look away," he whispered, and she forced her gaze back to his. "You have beautiful breasts."
That, Julie felt, was so far from true that it made her doubt the other things he'd just said. He saw the skeptical look on her face, and his mouth quirked in a somber smile. "If that wasn't the truth," he said, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple, "then you tell me why I'm dying to touch them and look at them and have my mouth on them right now." Her nipple tightened into a taut little bud against his thumb, and Zack felt lust begin to rage through him again. "You know it's true, Julie. You can see on my face how badly I want you."
She did see it—it was there in his smoldering, heavy-lidded gaze.
Dying to kiss her, Zack drew a long, steadying breath and bent his head, fighting to hold himself in check as he touched his tongue to her lips. "You are so sweet," he whispered. "You are so damned sweet."
Julie's restraint broke before his did. With a silent moan, she slid her hand around his nape and kissed him with all the passion building inside of her, pressing herself against his rigid length, glorying in the shudder that racked his body as his mouth opened over hers in a rough, tender kiss. With an instinct she didn't know she possessed, she sensed his desperate struggle to prevent the kiss from becoming too erotic, and the tenderness she felt was almost past bearing. Brushing her parted lips over his, she coaxed him to deepen the kiss, and when that failed, she started kissing him the way he'd done earlier. She touched her tongue to his lips and felt the gasp of his indrawn breath; encouraged by that, she let her tongue make a brief, sensuous foray in his mouth, probing lightly…
And she accomplished her goal.
Zack's restraint broke with a low groan as he rolled her onto her back, kissing her with a raw, urgent hunger that made her feel at once powerful and helpless. His hands and mouth claimed her body, sliding over her breasts and waist and back, and when his mouth returned to hers again, he shoved his fingers into her hair, holding her a willing prisoner. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, Julie's whole body was on fire with desire.
"Open your eyes, little one," he whispered.
Julie obeyed and found herself staring at a muscular male chest covered with curly dark hairs. The mere sight of that chest made her pulse pound. Hesitantly, she raised her gaze from his chest and beheld the changes that passion had made in him. A muscle was moving spasmodically in his throat, his face was hard and dark, and his eyes were burning. She watched his sensual lips form two words and heard the rasp in his voice as he enunciated them: "Touch me." It was an invitation, an order, and a plea.