Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(13)

She slipped into the bed, then lay on her back a bit stiffly. Her teeth rattled, and so did something deep inside him. "Closer. Come on," he coaxed softly, reaching out, touching her hips, urging her on her side facing away from him. Then he scooted her back to his chest so that he could share his body heat. His own exhaustion momentarily forgotten, he stroked a hand down her quivering body, trying to rub some warmth into her.

Gradually, she started to relax, even sighing deeply, snuggling back against him for more heat. "Nice," she murmured.

Until that moment he'd managed to keep his thoughts along the lines of comfort only.

Mostly.

But with her unwittingly seductive voice, and her bottom rubbing over the part of him that had a mind of its own, comfort flew out the window.

It became difficult, if not impossible, to keep his hands on platonic areas of her body. There weren't any! Every part of her drew him, all her long, toned limbs, her sweet, soft lush curves. His fingers stroked down her slim spine, down, down, down… He groaned at the feel of her, unable to keep his hands from exploring.

Another deep sigh escaped her at his touch, and her breath came slow and even.

So he kept on caressing her, trying to keep still, struggling to hold back another groan because she was heaven in his hands.

"Want you, Zach," she sighed.

He froze. She wanted him. Reality reared up and bit him, because while he wanted her back, she couldn't want him. She couldn't, this was his own private torture.

Then she sighed his name and whispered it again.

"What?" he asked, praying he'd heard wrong. Nothing.

"Hannah?"

"Mmm?"

She couldn't just say that and fall asleep … could she? "Um … Hannah?"

This time he got a soft snore for an answer.

Great. Her hair tickled his nose, her head was heavy on his arm, making it go numb. Her feet, which felt like icicles, rested on his. Her shirt had ridden up so that the only thing that separated them were silky panties and his own briefs, which were now far too tight for comfort. He was as hard as a rock, practically shaking with it, and there she lay, peaceful as a baby, getting the sleep that should be his!

It was a long, long time before he followed her into dreamland.





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Chapter 5


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Hannah woke up warm and toasty and—locked in Zach's arms!

It all came back to her in a flood. The music, the candles … her failure.

Darn it, she'd fallen asleep on him!

Incredible as it seemed, they hadn't done anything.

Hannah would have groaned, loudly, but she was afraid to wake him, afraid to look in his eyes and face her pathetic seduction attempt.

She needed to get up. Needed to regroup. Needed a new plan. But breaking away from the blissfully slumbering Zach was actually harder than she anticipated … mostly because she didn't really want to go. Not when he looked so right in her bed, not when he was wrapped around her making her feel safe and secure.

Wanted.

Whoa. He hadn't wanted her; if he had they would've made love. She needed to remember that when these alien warm and fuzzy feelings came over her.

Zach was here only temporarily.

Very temporarily.

Which was yet another thing to remember. No falling for him, no matter how wonderful he felt in her bed.

She made herself get up. Despite her jumbling emotions, her body felt alive, really truly alive, in a way she hadn't imagined possible. Alive and … yearning. She ached with it. Ignoring that, she dressed.

When she went down the hall, there was the sweet old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. They were holding hands and talking, and she thought if she could guarantee a relationship like that, then maybe someday she'd give it a shot.

"Get lucky last night, dear?" asked the sweet old lady.

"Ex—excuse me?"

"I saw your young man on his way to bed last night." She winked. "He's something, all tall, dark and attitude-ridden, isn't he?" Then she laughed lustily. "You go, girl."

Hannah managed a weak smile and went downstairs.

Alexi was already in the kitchen, digging through the refrigerator. At the sight of Hannah, a known un-morning person, she lifted a curious brow. "Wow. You're even dressed."

"Well, we do have guests," Hannah said, smoothing down her sundress self-consciously because she rarely wore dresses and had no idea why she'd worn one today.

Okay, she did know, but refused to attribute it to Zach. "I could hardly come down in my p.j.'s. Have you met that older couple—"

"Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz. Oh yeah. We had to switch them with another guest, that quiet young woman, Katie Minor. The Schwartzes were … uh, making noises all night, disturbing Mr. and Mrs. Peterman. Can you imagine? They must be at least seventy, right? Anyway, they're in room six now, so they can knock it out all they want, scream at the top of their lungs, swing from the rafters if they like, and they won't be able to disturb anyone."

Hannah shook her head. "Could have done without that image this early in the morning, thanks."

"Hmm." Alexi studied her until Hannah squirmed. "My brother snoring?"

"Snoring? Uh … no."