“Wow,” Rebecca said, picking up her food again.
Zane did as well, though she doubted he tasted it before he swallowed. “I don’t talk to him anymore. When Trey and I left for college, I never looked back again.”
“That was probably smart,” she said, though she knew people did look back—whether they wanted to or not.
He nodded and looked down. He didn’t seem like a mogul. He just seemed like a person. Rebecca wondered if she should touch him the way he had her. Giving in to the impulse, she rubbed his strong-boned wrist. He didn’t pull away.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I had Trey to get me through. We had each other.”
Something in his voice said this hadn’t been an ordinary friendship.
“You two are close.”
“Yes,” he said and lifted his gaze to hers.
She couldn’t read what was behind it but sensed she was seeing a side of him he didn’t show most people. How did souls connect? People talked about it in books: The eyes were the window to and all that. Pete and Charlie were part of her, but other folks were a mystery. Was Zane’s soul talking to hers as he stared at her? Did hers understand the secrets that weren’t coming out his mouth?
Okay
, she told herself.
You’ve had too much beer
.
Maybe he thought so too. He broke the tension with a gentle but charming smile. “This is too serious. I should be asking you your favorite movie or where you wish you could go on vacation.”
“To work,” she not-quite-joked. “Obviously.”
“You could cook your way around Europe,” he suggested in the same vein.
“Mm,” she said. “That would be fabulous.”
~
Rebecca lived in a single family two-story Victorian. The residence wouldn’t have been fancy even when it was new, but Zane supposed it had character. When he picked her up, she’d explained her brothers’ basement apartment plan. Zane had assured her the strategy wasn’t stupid, and that she’d have no trouble learning how to be a landlord.
“You’re a boss already,” he’d said. “You’re used to keeping on top of things.”
The dumpster hulking in her front yard was less obvious in the dark. As he parked his old silver convertible in her driveway, Zane reminded himself she had a lot of pressures on her: new job, changing home, boys becoming more independent and expecting her to let them. For a person as tightly wound as Rebecca, this wouldn’t be easy. She might not be in the mood to hop into bed with him.
This, needless to say, wasn’t a thought he was used to having about women.
Overall, tonight had left him off kilter. He wondered why he’d told her about his father hitting him. Because she was different than his usual arm candy? Because her brothers had opened a window onto her equally non picket-fence childhood?
Unable to answer, he shut off the engine. By this point, he was half-hard, though he knew better than to look too eager to be invited in. He didn’t want to push Rebecca past her comfort zone. Hell, maybe he didn’t want to push himself. He was seriously attracted to her, more than he’d been to any woman recently.
Ignoring the whiff of danger, he turned in his seat and looked at her. She was sitting forward with her knees together, her thumbnail stuck between her teeth again. The nervous gesture shouldn’t have struck him as so endearing. The compulsion to put her at her ease was strong. One thing he knew for sure: he didn’t want the night to be over yet.
“You know,” he said, his wrist draped over the steering wheel. “I think when Trey and I were students, we lived less than half a mile from here.”
She twisted to face him. The Mercedes’ top was down and the nearest streetlamp lit her fine features. “Really? We could have met and not known it?”
This seemed to intrigue her. Smiling and oddly happy, he reached to brush a pixie wisp from her smooth cheekbone. “I’m just glad we’ve met now.”
“Oh you’re full of it,” she said good-naturedly. “A guy like you could date a different woman every night of the week if you wanted to.”
“A guy like me.”
“You know: gorgeous, successful, in command of himself.”
He liked her description. Enjoying the feel of her downy cheek, he continued stroking his finger over it. “Why can’t I want to date you?”
“Because I’m weird.”
“Maybe I like weird.”
She smiled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. How did she get through every day so tensed up?
“You like
cute
-weird,” she corrected, teasing him.
“I’m glad your self esteem is sufficient to admit you qualify.”
She laid her adorable blonde head on the seat back, the change in position causing his hand to cup her ear. She might as well have groped his cock. His half hard-on lengthened inside his trousers, swiftly stiffening all the way.
“I had a nice time tonight,” she said. “I liked talking to you.”
“Me too.” He was surprised how much he meant it, and how strongly the need to get inside her surged up in him.
“Will you kiss me good night?” she asked. Her manner wasn’t quite shy, but it wasn’t bold either—as if she wasn’t certain he’d want to.
Zane wanted to kiss her, and a hell of a lot more besides. Chest rumbling with a growl he didn’t mean to utter, he slid as far over as the small car required. She moved toward him simultaneously, her own cry as their lips met completely flattering.
Oh kissing her was good. She was small and strong and she poured her whole body into answering his passion. There was plenty of that, wave after wave rolling through him, until his dick ached with it. Groaning, he pulled her on top of him. He couldn’t keep his hands from running over her. Her back, her arms, the curve of her narrow waist, all called him to admire them. Her tight little butt obsessed him—its firmness, its roundness, how he could cover half of it with his palm. Her ass made him long to take her in ways he’d only taken Trey until now.
Actually, her ass kind of made him want to spank her.
He counted himself fortunate she couldn’t read his mind. “Mm,” she hummed, wriggling as his hand slid under her wretched dress and over her slightly nicer satin panties. Half Zane’s blood tried to race to his cock at once. She was wet, her gusset soaked where he pushed the cloth between her labia.
She broke free of his kiss and gasped.
“Too much?” he panted, feeling like a teenager who’d tried to steal third base.
“Maybe.” Her Cheshire smile was at odds with her breathlessness. “Why don’t I even things up a bit?”
His size and the car’s lack of it didn’t allow her much room to move. He debated suggesting they take this show inside when her surprisingly firm hand wrapped his erection. He arched, the top of his head bumping the window frame. The way his scalp tingled had more to do with her rubbing him than the possible concussion.
“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling her touch so intensely he could hardly believe it. One more squeeze, and he swore he was going to come.
“Too much?” she asked.
Maybe she was joking. Tit for tat, and all that. Zane didn’t wait to find out. He shoved her seat fully backward on its track, then flipped her down onto it. At the cost of a couple curses and bonked body parts, he twisted into a hunched position where he could shove her dress up and latch his mouth over her pussy. The pleasure he took in this improved the second he ripped away her panties. Her clit was so swollen he had no trouble zeroing in on it.
“Jesus,” she said, ineffectually pushing at his head. He licked up her creamy button, and she whimpered. “Zane, the top of your car is down.”
“Gaze at the stars,” he laughed, drunk with the taste of her. “And for God’s sake, don’t be loud enough to disturb your neighbors.”
“Oh God,” she groaned, because he’d brought his thumbs into play beside his mouth. He wedged his shoulders beneath her thighs, spreading them wider. Her hands forked into his hair, her hips jerking closer in spite of her embarrassment with the exposure. “Zane, I can’t—”
He found a hot spot to the left of her clit and worked it in a circle with the pad of his thumb. Apparently, it was a good nerve cluster. Rebecca groaned and thrashed and clutched his head harder. “We’re outside,” she said, trying to whisper. “I can’t . . . relax enough to come.”
He was pretty sure she could. She was hot enough to burn him, the moans that caught in her throat ramping up his excitement. Now that he’d got himself where he was, he was damned if he wanted to cut this short.
An idea sprang into his mind that—in the moment—seemed like genius. Possibly it was evil genius. His cock thudded like a demon as it came to him.
“I can help you keep quiet,” he said, hands flying from her sex to his belt buckle. “Then you’ll be able to relax.”
His belt whipped free of its loops with a telltale metallic rattle.
“Zane,” she breathed in shock. “You can’t fuck me out here.”
She would have let him. Her temperature had jumped ten degrees. “Not the plan,” he assured her, despite the temptation. “Give me your wrists.”
“What?”
“Wrists,” he repeated.
She stared at him with her mouth open. Her pupils were dilated from more than the darkness. His instincts were on target. Whether she knew it or not, this game excited her.
“I promise,” he swore harshly. “I’ll stop the second you ask me to.”
She swallowed and then offered him her wrists. She looked so obedient, so surprisingly natural. Zane’s heart rate sped up wildly. He was doing a number on his own arousal as well. Trey had trained him to like these scenarios. Struggling not to shake, he wrapped his belt in figure eights around her slender wrists. The leather wasn’t tied, but it would stay where it was.
“Bite it,” he said. “Or hook it behind my neck. Whatever helps you feel in control.”
The suggestion that binding her wrists would increase her sense of control sent a shudder through her body.
“Okay?” he asked, because she seemed unable to speak. She nodded, a quickened pulse beating in her throat. Satisfied, he bent back to her pussy.
She was twice as wet as before, twice as wild and responsive. She was also quieter. Only gasps and tiny strangled mewls came from her. When he rolled his eyes up, she had the belt clamped between her teeth. The sight did incredible things to him. He forgot how uncomfortable his hunched position was. Aroused beyond bearing, he wanted to make her come so hard the belt would be all that prevented her from screaming.
He sucked her until she tensed every muscle with her longing to go over, until he knew all she needed was a bit more pressure. He drove his hands up the front of her body, underneath her loose dress to the wire bottom of her bra. His fingers pushed it easily upward, each hand covering one round breast. Her skin was feverish, her hardened nipples perfect for scissoring between his knuckles.
She hissed and arched for how good that felt. Then, as if she needed it too much to remain inhibited, she finally slapped her belt-bound wrists behind his neck.
This was a signal he had no intention of disregarding. As she urged him closer, he lavished all his oral skill on her clit, sucking it with force and directness: lips, tongue, everything brought into play.
She came without screaming, but she came hard. When her thighs relaxed at last from their spasm of pleasure, he shifted up her body. The move kept her arms behind him, tied wrists limply hugging him. Her eyes were wide, her pulse still trembling within her cushy lips. He kissed her softly, and she returned it the same way. He loved that as much as he’d loved her earlier aggression. Her kiss conveyed a depth of caring he shouldn’t have been hungry for. He
had
that in his life. Trey gave it to him in spades. Ruthlessly shoving that consciousness aside, he lowered his hips to hers.
The stiff ridge behind his zipper couldn’t be overlooked.
“Zane,” she murmured against mouth, definitely not an objection.
He didn’t open his trousers. He liked his hands where they were, fanned and kneading her warm soft breasts. Rebecca’s legs were parted around him, her panties torn away. He began to rub against her slowly, getting her wetness on the linen, teasing his prick with prospect of getting off. Her bound hands fisted in the small of his back, her calves moving restlessly behind his.
“Are you going to come like this?” she asked in a hushed tone. “Without even unzipping?”
He looked into her big gray eyes, into her shining black pupils. “Do you want me to?”
Her pelvis arched to him. “Yes, please,” she whispered in answer.
He needed the release bad, but he didn’t rush. He waited until tension rose in her again, wanting her to go with him. Then he dropped his head beside hers on the car seat and ground hard and quick into her mons, making sure to strafe the swelling at its apex. Growls of pent-up longing escaped him, his cock as trapped by his clothing as her wrists were by his belt. The constriction pleased his nerves, the perversity of doing this like he was back in high school. As excited as he was, the friction got to him in no time.
He had to let go, and he did. He gasped at the intensity of the orgasm, hot kicks of ejaculation driven hard from his cock and balls. Rebecca went a second later, her involuntary cry muffled against his neck.
He suspected he’d remember the sound of that for a while.
“Whew,” Rebecca said after a long moment.
Zane covered her mouth with his sweaty hand. Someone was coming toward them on the sidewalk—walking a dog, he thought.
“Stay still,” he instructed her very quietly. “I don’t think they’ll notice us.”
The person didn’t seem to, talking nonsense to his dog and humming an off-key show tune. By the time he was gone, Rebecca was biting her lip against laughing. She’d unwrapped his belt already to free her wrists, so he rolled off her. She straightened her dress and wriggled her bra back on. She tried to get the convertible’s seat up, but she needed his help for that.
Her amusement remained apparent through all of it.
“We’re both completely crazy,” she declared.
Her hair was sticking up all over, actually more stylish than it had been before.
“Maybe,” Zane said, giving in to the urge to smooth it, “but I’m pretty sure we need to do that again, preferably in a bed.”