If You Were Mine

“Is there a Stop button in this thing?” she found herself asking against his lips, even though she’d never done something crazy like have sex in an elevator. Then again, she would never have felt safe enough to do that with anyone but Zach.

But before either of them could find it, they reached the top of the building and the doors slid open. Together, they moved out of the elevator, not separating or stopping their kiss. Feeling bold, she grabbed the room key from him, pressed it against the card reader beside the double doors, and used his tie to drag him inside.

Last night he’d run the show.

Tonight, she wanted her turn at being in charge.

The last thing she expected to see was a massage table set up in the middle of the expensive-looking carpet. “Do we have the wrong room?”

“Nope,” he said with a soft kiss to her lips. “You’ve been working so hard all day. I don’t want you to be sore tomorrow.”

She couldn’t believe he’d arranged a masseuse for her.

Or that he was planning to make her wait to have him.

“You don’t play fair, do you?”

“You wouldn’t want me to,” he said against the curve of her neck, where he’d started nibbling on her skin.

And he was right, she thought, even though her entire body buzzed with arousal, with the desperate need to have him inside of her right now. Every other man that had come before Zach now seemed boring. Unimaginative. She couldn’t remember a single reason she would want to be with anyone else.

He gave her one of those evil grins she was beginning to dread...and wish for at the exact same time. “Before I call in the masseuse, I’d better get you undressed.”

He turned her around, found the zipper at the back of her dress, and drew it down. The dark blue fabric fluttered away from her body and all it took was one soft tug for it to slide down her shoulders, over her arms, past her hips and to the floor. Turning her around with his large hands on her waist, he took a step back to look at her in her bra, panties, thigh-high stockings, and heels.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She hated to break the spell, but she didn’t want there to be any lies between them. Especially when he didn’t need to say things like that to get her into bed with him.

“I’m not.” She fought the urge to try to cover her arms, and the old scars, by hiding them behind her back.

“You are.”

He said the words with such intensity, that even though she couldn’t possibly see how it was true, she had no choice but to believe he meant it.

And then, he was reaching for her hands. But instead of threading his fingers through hers, his thumbs caressed her old scars, one by one as he moved his hands further up from her wrists, over her forearms, to the soft underside of her elbows.

It was too much for her, the way he seemed to adore even her imperfections, and she made a sound of protest. “Zach, I—”

He kissed her before she could say anything else, but he didn’t stop touching her, didn’t stop exploring her battered skin with his fingertips. She’d been right about a mechanic’s hands, about how talented they could be. He was turning her to putty again, but she didn’t want to just sit back and feel.

She wanted to be right there with him, an equal in passion, a partner in desire. And she didn’t think she could stand for him to be that gentle, that sweet, another second longer without her heart falling.

Sliding quickly from his grasp, she undid the clasp on her bra. As the straps fell from her shoulders, and her bra began the slow slide from her br**sts, she loved the hunger in Zach’s eyes.

And loved even more that it seemed the most obvious thing in the world to drop slowly to her knees in front of him.

* * *

Zach had planned to keep his hands off Heather until she’d had her massage. He’d witnessed firsthand tonight how hard she’d worked for the fundraiser, and even though he’d wanted her every single second since she’d left his arms that morning, he’d been trying to wait to take her again until she was relaxed and ready for him.

He should have realized his plans were shot to hell when she yanked him inside the suite by his tie. But he was so used to doing things his way, it still hadn’t occurred to him that Heather might not let him get away with that tonight...or that she’d actually drop to her knees and lick her lips in pure sensual need as she unzipped him.

He had to slide his hands into her hair as her tongue found him first and then she—

Jesus, her mouth.

A few minutes later, Zach somehow managed to pull back and lift her into his arms. But as he moved toward the bedroom and kicked open the door, he had to lean over her to take one beautiful breast into his mouth.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried out his name as he laved first one, then the other. They sank down to the mattress like that, with his greedy mouth on her soft skin as her hands held his head over her chest, groaning when his lips and tongue met her warm, sinfully sweet flesh.

Zach had always loved sex in every form—slow sex, rough sex, playful sex, quick and dirty sex—but he’d never felt this desperation, this primal need to claim a woman as his before. And when he finally looked up to see Heather’s long, dark hair fanned out on the pillow, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes dark and hazy with arousal...he lost it.

All those plans to heighten her anticipation by making her wait, to take his time learning her curves and hollows all over again with the lights on this time, shattered in the face of his overpowering desire to take her.