And it was breath taking.
“So either, you paid someone off, or stole a key card?”
Zane laughed. “Would you believe me if I told you this is where I’ve been staying the past few days? We’ve been recording so late into the night that I finally just grabbed a room for me and my agent.”
“You’re agent?” This was the first I was hearing about the agent being here. Then again, I’d been ignoring him for a week, or he’d been ignoring me.
My stomach clenched.
Did that mean he was almost done recording?
Going home.
I tried to keep my body language from revealing my feelings, but I was wound up too tight to do anything except offer him a curious smile, one he didn’t even acknowledge since he was looking out at the ocean, hands in pockets.
It was too much.
I needed a moment.
The intensity of the situation I was in wasn’t lost on me.
I was alone with Zane Andrews in his hotel room, and I’d all but propositioned him on the beach.
At least that’s how it felt.
Like there was this unspoken understanding between us, the minute I grabbed his hand, I was agreeing to never look back.
But would he?
Would he look back on this moment and regret it? Would he wish he wouldn’t have taken a chance on a girl like me?
The muscular profile of his body used to intimidate me. Slowly, he pulled his shirt over his head. My breath hitched.
It didn’t mean anything.
He just liked being naked.
He’d said as much to be before.
“This is the first time in years I’ve been able to stay alone and not be freaked out. Then again, Will’s next door.” He tossed the shirt onto the couch, still not turning around.
“Will?” I asked mouth dry.
“My agent.” He answered while unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off his body.
Okay. I really needed a time out.
Or a chair.
To sit in.
Pass out across.
I tried to suck in more air as his designer jeans made a loud thrash against the slate floor.
There was nothing hesitant about him, Zane wasn’t the type to get nervous or insecure. At least when it came to the one thing he was secure about.
Himself.
His own body.
What he owned.
What he kept close.
Kept close.
I rolled the sentence around in my head, then shakily slid out of my sweater and placed it across the couch, rubbing my arms to create some friction as I slowly made my way toward his towering body.
“Are you leaving soon?”
He didn’t answer right away, instead, his gorgeous head of dark hair hung forward in defeat. “I’m not sure….yet.”
He was waiting.
I knew it.
He knew I knew it too, his stance changed from confident to determined as every muscle grew rigid across the planes of his stomach, wrapping around his back.
Nobody had the right to be that beautiful, man or woman.
Or that comfortable in their own skin.
Even naked in the shower I had the horrible habit of pointing out every single flaw, feeling my skin to see I was gaining weight, making a face at parts of my body that didn’t flow right.
Not Zane.
Never Zane.
“Zane…” His name was a whisper across my lips.
His head turned, eyes locked on mine, he waited.
Why was this so hard?
Why was he making it so difficult?
When you let me keep you in my arms for longer than a few minutes---when I’m yours to keep right back.
“Yeah?” His eyes drank me in. “What is it, Fallon?”
“I want longer than a few minutes,” I admitted with a large gulp of air. “I want to keep you back.”
In two strides he was in front of me, reaching for my face, kissing my mouth, sliding his lips down my neck, his hands fluidly lifting my dress over my head only to have his mouth return.
“No take backs,” he murmured across my neck before his eyes once again focused intently on mine.
“No take backs,” I agreed, deepening the kiss as my hands danced along his muscular shoulders, my fingers greedy as they dug into his hot skin, nearly combusting as he flexed beneath those same fingertips.
He was super human—confident in every caress, every kiss, like he’d done this hundreds of times before, but when he pulled back, anxiety flashed.
“Do I need to get the marshmallows?” I joked between kisses.
“No.” He burst out laughing. “No.” Zane sobered. “I’m pretty sure I need to draw the line somewhere, and marshmallows and sex are probably your hard limit, yeah?”
“My hard limit was ants,” I said deadpan.
“You think you’re funny don’t you?” His eyes twinkled.
“Please still keep me.” I begged in a teasing tone.
“I’ll think about it.” His kiss was fierce as his gruff voice rolled over me like a slow-building fire. Every kiss fanned the flames, feeding them with his special brand of oxygen, leaving me powerless to do anything but kiss him back, prove to him that I wasn’t going anywhere and that he could trust me.
“You’re too good at this,” I whimpered when I looked down and noticed I was naked. I’d literally felt nothing, I’d been thoroughly seduced, as if he’d snapped his fingers and my clothes had just disappeared.
With a laugh, he shrugged. “I’m just good at distraction.”
“Why would you need me distracted?”