Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(22)

“What’s this obvious thing I’m missing, Keelie?” he asked.

Then his eyes just about crossed, because instead of outright answering, she twined long, long legs around him and arched, pressing the heat of her sex against him, and rocked. “This . . .” That pink flush rode her cheeks, hotter now, brighter, while her eyes practically glittered at him. “This. Isn’t it obvious what’s going on?”

Zane couldn’t help it. He caught her hips in his hands, his fingers digging into the curve of her ass as he leaned into her and rocked against her, hard, fast. Once, twice.

She shuddered and met him. And when he stopped, she whimpered.

He slid a hand up, closed it over her throat. The mad beat of her pulse against his palm drove him insane. He wanted to cover that fragile bit of skin with his mouth and bite down, suck on her skin until she shivered and whispered his name.

Instead, he said, “There are a lot of names for what this is. A quick f*ck, like I mentioned. Keelie, that’s easy, and either one of us can get it anywhere. I’ll be honest . . . that’s not what I want from you.”

She stiffened in his arms, the long, strong legs she’d wrapped around him easing down until she was standing on her feet before him. He already missed the solid warmth of her weight.

Her voice, when it came, was hard and flat. “Fine.”


*

Humiliation burned in her.

Rejection turned her blood to ice while her skin shrank down about two sizes too small.

She wanted to sink into the floorboards, turn into something thin and vaporous so she could just disappear.

Pushing against his chest, she focused on the navy blue polo. “Then how about you let me go, huh? My mistake.”

The hand on her throat didn’t move.

It should have felt threatening.

But the feel of him touching her just made her melt that much more . . . and it was now a heavy ache inside because he—

His lips brushed her ear.

“You want to know what I want from you?” he asked, the words velvet, stroking over her like a caress.

Keelie closed her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. He was messing with her. It pissed her off—and, to her disgust, it hurt. It almost felt like a betrayal, too, because she hadn’t expected to see this in Zane.

“Back off,” she warned, putting an edge into her voice and preparing herself to make him back off. So what if he had some moves on him? He hadn’t seen her moves yet. Not really.

“I want . . .” He slid his hand down from her throat, to rest on her chest, fingers spread wide where it rested above her heart. “This.”

The simplicity of the gesture stunned her into passivity.

She held still as he lifted his head and stared down at her.

She blinked, not moving, as he continued to stand there, his hand on her chest. “I want five minutes of your time . . . over a cup of coffee. An hour for lunch. I want you to pick up the phone when I call, talk with me for a while,” he said, staring into her eyes while the blue green of his gaze cut into her.

Then he leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her chest, just above the neckline of her sweater. “I want to peel your clothes away, learn each and every one of these insanely sexy tattoos . . . and the reason behind them. I want to know what makes you laugh, and I want to know what makes you mad. I want to know what sort of book you’re reading whenever I’m in the office—I’ve asked, but you always toss it down when I walk by and you never answer me.”

His breath was a caress on her flesh and she broke out into goose bumps.

Her heart raced and she couldn’t even begin to understand why there was a knot in her chest.

Then he lifted his head and caught her skull between his hands, leaning in to lightly brush his lips over hers. “You see, Keelie . . . I want a lot more than a quick f*ck from you. But every time I try to get even five minutes of your time,” he murmured, each word low and raw, “you pull away. The one time you actually did talk to me? That was three months ago. At the wedding. You gave me five minutes and then I put my hands on you and since then, you’ve run even harder, even faster. So maybe you can understand why I’m a little leery about just what is going on here.”

Quick as a wish, he was gone, standing five feet away, and she slumped against the wall, her knees weak as she stared at him.

Her heart lurched, lunged inside her chest, and the voice of common sense told her one very simple message.

Time to go.

Except everything else compelled her to stay.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall, his face in shadow, those surreal blue green eyes a wicked, hungry glitter in the dim light. “So, can I ask again or are you just going to leave? What exactly is going on here?”

“Are you trying to piss me off?” she snarled, coming off the wall. She was achy and hungry, confused and cold. Her hands itched to reach for him and at the same time, she thought the easiest thing—the smart thing—to do would be to just leave.

“No.” He blinked and when he looked back at her, his eyes were once more unreadable behind those horn-rimmed glasses. “But then again, sometimes, Keelie, you’re really easy to piss off and you probably know that.”

She curled her lip.

Zane smirked.

“The bottom line is this . . . if you want casual sex, I’m not where you need to look.” Zane said it bluntly and his eyes held her as he spoke, the words so matter-of-fact, it was like he had this conversation every day of the week.