Good Lord, the man has magic fingers.
‘What did I tell you? Not hard if you pay attention.’
The smug, almost boyish look of satisfaction on that too-handsome face had her coughing out a laugh.
‘That was…’ Awesome. The word echoed in her head, but she stopped herself from saying it—and fought the sting of tears. This was only sex, she shouldn’t make too much of it. ‘Thank you,’ she managed at last, not sure what else to say.
His grin widened and he placed a possessive kiss on her nose. ‘Querida, the pleasure was all mine.’ He let his hand set
tle on her stomach, and she felt the outline of his erection against her hip. ‘You look real cute when you come.’
She gave him a playful slap on the arm. ‘Stop it.’
‘And so damn sexy, I almost came myself.’ He kissed her, the smile on his mouth as potent as the soft, sure touch of his lips.
She shifted as he raised his head, and, feeling bold, caressed the hard shaft through his trousers.
He tensed, let out a strained laugh. But when she reached for the zip to release him, he covered her hand, and stopped her. ‘Don’t…’ He touched his forehead to hers. ‘We can’t take this any further.’
‘Oh, okay.’ She tugged her hand out from under his, the sudden sense of failure so intense it hurt. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why are you sorry?’ He slipped a knuckle under her chin. ‘I’m hoping like hell we can still take a rain check.’
She shook off his hold, gathered her dress to cover her breasts and sat up. ‘All right,’ she said dully, knowing a charity case when she saw one.
‘Damn it…’ He gripped her shoulders, dragged her round to face him, the spark of anger confusing her. ‘I don’t have any protection with me,’ he said, his voice hoarse with exasperation.
‘That’s the reason you wanted to stop?’ she asked, the fury in his eyes more exalting than the feel of his rigid flesh moments before.
‘Damn straight it is. If I had a condom with me, I’d be inside you right this second.’ He cursed viciously. ‘I want you so badly I’m in agony here, and trying real hard to be smart about this, so don’t you dare look at me as if—’
‘There are condoms here,’ she cut in, deciding to intervene before he got any madder. While the sound of his frustration was boosting her fragile ego into the stratosphere—she didn’t want him to explode before they got to the main event. ‘In the bathroom. I saw them yesterday.’ She bounced off the bed, buoyant with pleasure that the moment of rejection was nothing more than a stupid misunderstanding. ‘I’ll go get them, shall I? Put you out of your agony,’ she finished unable to resist the urge to tease him.
‘No, wait.’ He grasped her arm, drew her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her hair. The deep breath he blew out brushed against her nape and sent awareness skittering down to her toes. ‘I shouldn’t have lost my temper,’ he said, sounding serious. ‘I apologise.’
‘If you think that’s losing your temper, you ought to meet a Scotsman.’
‘Yeah?’ He gave a rough chuckle, as she’d hoped he would. ‘It’s just you’ve got me so…’ He sighed, the hesitation so endearing, and so unlike him, her heart pounded heavily. He let go of her waist, rubbed his open palms down her upper arms. ‘I’ll get the condoms.’
‘But you don’t know where they are,’ she said, chewing on her lip to stop the smile as he climbed off the bed. Affection bloomed alongside her lust. She didn’t know why it felt so good to see that super-confident mask of his slip. But it did.
He glanced over his shoulder on his way to the door. ‘I shouldn’t have too much trouble.’ He winked. ‘I’m a trained detective. Detecting stuff is my profession,’ he said as he left the room.
She collapsed onto the bed, her hands still clasping her dress, and took in a shuddering breath.
His head popped around the doorframe, making her jolt upright. ‘But while I’m gone, lose the dress and panties.’
She gasped at the audacious command as excitement and anticipation soared. ‘Well, really!’
‘Well, really,’ he purred in a surprisingly good imitation of her Scottish accent. The roguish smile came back full force. ‘I want you ready for round two when I get back, lady.’
She scrambled out of her clothes as his bare feet padded down the corridor, and shouted after him, ‘Conditions! Conditions!’
CHAPTER SIX
NOT COOL, MAN. Not cool at all.
Zane glared at the cracked bathroom mirror, taking in the dull colour on his cheeks, and the crater-like furrows on his brow.