When he released her mouth, she found herself leaning back on her braced arms, her body on display for him to peruse at his leisure. Instantly awkwardness swept in. How could she let him see every little part that she’d kept hidden for so long?
When she tried to lift herself up, his hands on her shoulders held her still. After one dark look, his gaze moved down...along with his hands. She should have felt shamed, wanton in this position, especially when he pushed between her legs and propped her feet on his hips. There was absolutely nowhere to hide.
She let her head fall back and her eyes close. Therein lay her only protection from his onslaught.
Before he finally entered her, he had explored each and every part of her body with thorough intent, branding her with his touch.
She didn’t recognize the moans and whimpers erupting from her mouth. She only knew if she didn’t have him, she couldn’t make it through the next few minutes. His body in hers was a momentary relief, but when he thrust deep, the fire returned ten times hotter. She exploded within minutes, Sloan following close behind.
With their ragged breathing echoing off the tile, she didn’t even care about being put back together again.
* * *
Pulling himself out of Ziara’s bed at two-thirty the next morning wasn’t an easy or pleasant task for Sloan, but he forced himself to return to his own house. They needed to slow down—and certainly needed to downplay anything that smacked of a relationship, sexual or otherwise.
He’d tossed aside Ziara’s concerns last night and he stood by his decision on both counts. But he knew no matter what he’d told her earlier, Vivian would kick her to the curb the minute she discovered they were sleeping together. She was only barely tolerating Ziara after learning about the lingerie line.
So he’d stay in control. They’d be careful. He could have her and protect her—somehow.
When he’d suspected a mystery lay beneath Ziara’s cool exterior, he hadn’t known the half of it. He felt like he’d cracked that hard surface and found the richest pool of tempting dark chocolate, so deep he could drown in her.
Willingly.
That was the scary part. Her loyalty, her integrity, her professionalism—all wrapped up in the sexiest package he’d ever touched. It made him want the very thing he was trying to hide: a chance just to be with her. He couldn’t articulate the why of it. It was just Ziara.
Coming through the door to his office suite seven hours later, he barely controlled his double take. There sat Ziara, looking as calm, crisp and professional as she always did. He couldn’t reconcile it with the woman who’d wrapped her silky, toned legs around his waist while he gave her multiple orgasms the night before.
Looking at her now, he wanted to kiss color into her lips and cheeks. Better yet, make her eyes glint with mischievous passion. But that was in direct violation of their agreement. He barely controlled the impulse to rip every last pin out of her hair until it fell in a black cascade down her back.
Wouldn’t Vivian just love that?
As if sensing a presence, she glanced up from her desk, eyebrow raised in inquiry. A tentative smile peeked from her lips—not her normal professional greeting, but a small, secretive smile full of the knowledge of what they’d done to each other the night before.
He stalked to her desk and leaned forward onto his hands. “I want to tear your clothes off.”
Her eyes widened a bit before returning to normal. Her lips pressed together as if to contain a laugh, though it didn’t disguise their sensual fullness. “Shh, not in the office. Besides, Abigail called to say Vivian wanted you on the design floor in twenty minutes. A reporter is coming to interview y’all.”
He cursed under his breath. “Guess I’ll have to put my plans on hold until tonight then. The least you can do is come along and protect me from the big, bad dragon lady.”
He paused, giving her a moment to back out. Her subdued “Sure” swept through him like a victory dance. He wouldn’t jeopardize her reputation here at work, but he had to have her again. Soon.
* * *
Fatigue hovered at the edges of Sloan’s consciousness a few hours later. The reporter had been excited about something new and different to feature in an upcoming society page, and had snapped at least a hundred pictures of the design floor.
Ziara had tried a few times to head back up to the office, but Sloan or Patrick always distracted her before she could get away. Constantly conferring with her over details of the actual show and even some of the fabric choices had kept her in close range—exactly where Sloan wanted her.
But she’d definitely started to lag at the end, her normally calm tone growing short and her posture tight. The most trying thing, the one thing that seemed to tap her energy while revving up Sloan’s, had been Vivian’s disapproving stare. Oh, she’d managed to keep it out of range of the camera, but Sloan could feel the bad vibes emanating from her on more than one occasion. At least she seemed to be an equal opportunity dispenser of disapproval. No one but the reporter and Robert could do any right this morning.