Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(7)

Flash skin. Kiss. More skin.

How difficult was that? From beneath her nerves came something else, something more base. Her insides tingled, heated. The shock wasn't her excitement, but that she felt it at all. For years she'd made sure she was too busy for this romance stuff, mostly to save her pride, but also out of a fear of the unknown. She'd stifled and ignored her own sexuality.

She couldn't any longer. Fact was, Zach Thomas had turned out pretty darned amazing. And he was in her bed, maybe not waiting for her exactly, but he was there nevertheless.

Studying her notes, she went back to the lodge and climbed the stairs. Anticipation raced through her as each footstep brought her closer. Men are all one big walking hormone.

She could only hope that was true, though the mental image of that nearly made her laugh out loud.

She let herself into her little suite. No lights. Good. Not being able to see might help her nerves.

Zach was there, in her bed, fast asleep if his even, deep breathing was any indication. In the dark, she moved closer, peering at him. She could see his head, and one bare shoulder as it gleamed in the moonlight.

Her heart raced, and she promptly forgot everything she was supposed to do.

What first? Squinting in the dark, she reread her notes.

Flash some skin.

Okay, easy enough.

She stripped, trying not to think about the actual technicalities of what she was about to do. Blessing the dark, she dropped shoes, pants, blouse … oh darn. She paused, her hands ready to remove the thin camisole she'd worn beneath her blouse.

Laundry.

She'd forgotten to do it—again.

Knowing she had no nightie in her drawer, not even a clean T-shirt thanks to her forgetfulness, she left on the little silk camisole and hoped it looked sexy enough. To ensure that, she removed the bra she'd worn beneath it. Then she drew a deep, very shaky breath and glanced through the dark at her faint reflection in the mirror over her dresser.

She'd never been one to sleep in the nude, she'd never even slept in just a little chemise and panties before. She felt … sexy. She even looked sexy, if the hardly-there reflection told the truth.

She'd always been fairly curvy. Blessed with breasts, as Alexi was fond of saying. But her chestnut-colored hair had always been difficult. Wild at best. At least it fell past her shoulders, which made it easy to pull back when she wanted. For now she left it down, because guys liked long hair.

Or so she'd heard.

Hoping that was true, she attempted to tame it, but it refused to be browbeaten. She couldn't see her eyes in the faint light, but that only added to the strange allure of standing there half nude staring at herself.

In spite of her hair, she really did look good! It was a horribly embarrassing thing to admit, even to herself, but she couldn't tear her gaze away.

An achiness filled her, especially in those erogenous spots that had been tingling ever since she'd first seen Zach again. Now goose bumps rose on her skin as well, and she shivered, though she wasn't cold. The opposite actually.

This was the new millennium. The age of the woman. She was perfectly capable of sleeping with someone, even making the first move if she had to. There certainly didn't have to be any commitment involved.

She could do this. She wanted to do this. And it had nothing to do with any silly challenge, and everything to do with what she wanted for herself.

Standing there in the dark, she ran her hands down her arms, soothing away the slight tremor that had danced through her with all the racy thoughts. Even that simple touch seemed sensual, and her body tightened. Her nipples puckered.

And she laughed silently at herself. There was a man in her bed; a warm, hard-bodied, sexy man and she was standing here wasting good time. Zach was utterly still, completely asleep, on his side facing her. So exhausted. A flash of guilt hit her. Should she let him sleep awhile longer? No. She'd lose her nerve.

It was too dark to see him clearly. Probably a good thing. Dragging in a deep breath of courage, she lifted the covers and slid in. Oh … my, he felt so absolutely wonderful—

All thought deserted her as two large hands caught her, hands which hauled her close, then rolled her, so that she was pinned beneath him and rendered completely immobile.





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Chapter 3


? ^ ?

A groan rumbled from Zach's chest, in the region of Hannah's ear.

"What the—" Towering over her, his hands now flat on either side of her head, the length of him became flush with the length of her. Then one of his hands smoothed back the hair from her face. Bending close, he struggled to see in the dark. "Hannah?"

Oh God, what now? At the first feel of him, her plan had escaped her. Oh yes, flash skin. Thinking she needed to remove her camisole, she started to wiggle, but he held her utterly captive.

One of his hands tipped her face up. "Why are you in my bed?"

"It's … my bed."

"No … this is my bed." He spoke slowly, thickly, as if he wasn't quite awake. "Or at least the one that you gave me. I think. Am I in the wrong bed?"

No, he was in the exactly right bed. And now that her initial nerves had worn off, Hannah was becoming aware of several things.

One, he smelled good. Really good, like soap and sleepy warm, male skin.

Two, he felt good. Really, really good. All sleek skin and tough muscle.