Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(20)

Sex had never been easy for her. Relationships just never worked and she couldn’t find it in her to trust anybody enough to really open up to them.

Either the guys were looking for an easy time, or they wanted something more and she couldn’t give that.

Life was easier without those complications, so she simplified. It was her and her vibrator if she really needed it. Otherwise . . .

But right now, she had this ache inside that was unlike anything she’d known. To top it all off, Zane was looking at her with that polite distance in his eyes. It was like that heat from a couple of months, even a couple of hours ago, had never existed and it was a bruise on her soul.

Was it because she’d said no when he asked her out?

Was it because she’d been such a bitch earlier?

Both?

Miserable, she shrugged her shoulders, now uncomfortable inside her skin. She hated this. Hated feeling uncertain and needy and confused and . . . hell. She couldn’t even put her finger on what she was feeling inside, but she knew she hated it.

He was behind her. She could feel him, a quiet shadow that somehow managed to heat her skin even though he was easily four feet away. All silence. No more smiles, no more teasing.

We’re good?

Like hell.

Feeling empty and hollow, she spun around and glared at him. “Bullshit.”

He lifted a brow and cocked his head, the light reflecting off his glasses and making it impossible for her to see his eyes. Beautiful eyes. He had the most beautiful blue green eyes and now he looked at her like they were strangers.

It pissed her off that she suddenly felt uncomfortable around him. It hadn’t been like that before he kissed her.

No, she didn’t want to undo that kiss, but she didn’t like that she’d lost that easy connection and she didn’t like that she’d hurt him and she didn’t like standing there and not knowing what to say.

Most of all, she hated that she’d wasted the past three months and she hated knowing that if she didn’t do something, now, while she was hovering on this tenuous brink where her emotions ran just a little too high, she was likely to go back to that place where she let caution control everything she did, and every choice she made.

Closing the distance between them, she tipped her head back and stared at him, all but daring him to move back. If she couldn’t find her confidence around him, then she’d fake it. She was fine with that.

She’d been faking it for most of her life anyway.

“Bullshit,” she said again. “Things aren’t good . . . so what’s the problem?”

He didn’t react. Not at all. There was a faint smile on his mouth. She wanted to feel that mouth pressed against hers again.

His lips moved and she had to concentrate just to understand his words. “No problem, Keelie. I thought we just established that. You should go home. Get some sleep.”

“If I want to go home, I’m capable of doing that, deciding that on my own,” she said.

“Okay, then. Just what do you want?”

What leaped into her mind in that very moment was so far from acceptable, it wasn’t even funny. Mouth dry, she had to fight the urge to clear her throat and she almost found herself backing away, but wasn’t that stupid? She was the one who’d walked over to him to begin with. Something hungry and hot moved through her. It left her muscles feeling all limp and lax and she had to lock her knees to stay upright.

“Well?”

She blinked. Dragging her eyes from his, she focused on the simple, dark blue cotton of the polo he’d pulled on. She could still see the lines of the owl on him, never mind the shirt. No common tribal tattoo on him. Nope, he’d gone for something different—she could picture the way the wings stretched out across his body, the intricate detail of the feathers, the fierceness on the owl’s face, claws opened and extended. All of it done on a body a hell of lot more nicely muscled than she would have expected.

“Glad we cleared all that up,” Zane said, his voice wry, thick with deprecation. “Look, I’m tired and—”

She reached out, laid a hand on his chest.

He stopped talking and the muscles in his body went taut. His eyes flashed and she lifted her head, stared at him. He watched her and her heart lurched up into her throat as their gazes met.

Slowly, she lifted her other hand up. Her fingers twisted in the sturdy material of his polo, and through it, she could feel the heat of his body.

“Keelie,” he said quietly, reaching down to close his hands over her wrists.

She felt her pulse accelerate at his touch. Her breath lodged in her throat and she had to force herself to breathe.

Don’t do this. This isn’t smart—

She was tired of being smart, though. So tired of being careful and shutting herself down.

Just once . . .

With her heart drumming in her ears, his hands gripping her wrists, she leaned in and kissed him.

Her heart stuttered as her mouth touched his, driven by memories of those few stolen moments, a kiss that still burned through her memories, drawn by emotions she didn’t entirely understand.

His mouth was firm under hers and he tasted like coffee, like sin, and she wanted to wrap her body around him and never let go.

Zane hadn’t moved, not even a little.

But she wasn’t stopping . . . not yet. Not when her heart was racing like this.