Zane (Alluring Indulgence) (4 page)

Oh,
damn.

Without
a word, V let her eyes trail slowly down his thick, ropy biceps, over those sexy
as hell back muscles that flared at his sides – lats, she was pretty sure that’s
what they were called – over his pecs, his washboard abs, and that enticing,
perfectly sculpted “V” that disappeared into the waistband of jeans that had
seen better days. Her eyes even wandered down to see his beautiful feet were
bare.

“Were
you planning to stay out here all night?”

Yes.
Yes, she was.

As
though his words were liquid and she’d been dying of thirst, V’s body soaked up
every nuance of every syllable; the raspy, low rumble settling some of her
tension.

Or,
quite possibly, making her aware in other ways.

“I
thought about it.”

Zane
chuckled, then pinned her with that wicked come-hither grin, followed by a
subtle, knowing wink and V inadvertently felt a shift in the air around them.
How did he do that? How did he make everything better with just a tilt of his
enticing lips?

“Come
in.” Raspy and suggestive, his voice soothed her and gave her the courage to
accept his offer.

It
wasn’t like she had much of a choice. If she didn’t go inside, she would never
be able to have a conversation with him because V was barely able to ignore the
ardent memory of what they did, right there against the wall, just a few short
months ago. That night had been perfect. The first night V agreed to go back to
his house, and they hadn’t even made it through the front door before Zane had
shoved her against the wall as they devoured one another. Right there, out in
the open, Zane had rocked her world.

Putting
one foot in front of the other, V managed to get past him and through the front
door as his uniquely masculine scent assaulted her senses and nearly had her
stumbling in her four inch heels.

V
distracted herself by admiring his house and all of the warmth that radiated
from it. It was only her second time to be inside, although Zane had been to
hers plenty of times during their brief affair a few months before. And just
like the last time, V was impressed by the sheer masculinity of her
surroundings.

Cowboy?
Yes, that was one word that would describe Zane. From the bull rope hanging on
the wall to the black and white framed images that told the story of Zane’s
infamous, albeit short, bull riding career. He was also one of the only Walker
brothers who owned a horse. Travis actually owned several, but Zane had only
one. She wondered how the horse was faring after not seeing Zane for so long.
The thought brought a familiar sadness to her heart.

There
wasn’t a single interior wall in the entire floor plan, only the four that
constructed the outer structure of the house and a couple of cedar wrapped
beams that supported the vaulted ceilings. Distressed hickory hardwood planked
the floor while the walls were a relaxing shade of brown, like sandstone. She
presumed that it was Zane’s rustic take on an open, airy loft space. V liked it
more than she was willing to admit. There was something about the space that
made her feel at home.

Standing
just inside the door, V’s gaze instinctively strayed to the bedroom space in
the far left corner. A huge, four post, king sized bed made out of intricately
formed thick wooden limbs stood beside a wide armoire made of the same
distressed wood. The area wasn’t overly large, but V figured it didn’t need to
be. Most of what Zane probably did was on the bed anyway.

That
particular thought had heat sizzling down low.

The
bathroom wasn’t separated by a wall, but rather an opaque pane of glass which
offered some privacy and V had some vivid fantasies of what it would be like to
have Zane in that monstrous shower. The last time she was here, they had never
made it that far. Hell, they hadn’t even made it to the bed. The couch had been
sufficient... As well as the front porch and the kitchen counter.

Heat
infused her, and V knew her blush was visible, so she kept her face turned away
from Zane. Shaking the thought away, she reminded herself why she was there. It
surely wasn’t so she could ogle Zane or to let him get even further under her
skin. No, she was here to let him down easy.

And
to remind him once again, that if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have been
through the hell he’d been through. Nor would his family have suffered for the
last few months. That familiar ache reappeared, and V reminded herself that
what she and Zane had wasn’t real. Never had been. And it was in her best
interest – and his – if they didn’t see each other anymore.

It
would help if she actually believed that.

♂♀

Zane
didn’t make a sound as he stood by the front door, his hip propped against the
wood, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched V. Since the moment he
realized she was pacing back and forth on his front porch, he hadn’t been able
to take his eyes off of her. He was doing pretty fucking well not touching her
either.

Now
that she was inside his house, there were a number of excessively appealing
ideas penetrating his sex deprived body. Three months had passed since he’d
last touched her... Tasted her... Felt the searing way her pussy enveloped his
cock. The last thought had him stifling a groan.

This
woman affected him in ways no other woman had ever come close. Before the
assault, Zane had been pursuing V relentlessly, and she had been throwing him a
curve ball at every attempt.

Never
in all of his twenty four years had he expected to have long term thoughts
about a woman, but when it came to V, he thought of little else. It was
surprising how much he felt for her and how quickly it had come on. Although
they had been apart for three long months, Zane still felt exactly the same.
Vanessa Carmichael was his other half, but, just like then, he knew he had his
work cut out for him when it came to convincing her of that.

He
kept her in his sights, watching as she gracefully lowered herself to the black
leather couch, fluffing her short brown skirt out so that it didn’t show any
more of her long legs and beautiful olive skin. Zane had to bite his tongue.

The
last time she had come to his house, she’d been on that couch too. Only because
that was the closest piece of furniture they could get to in their haste to
practically tear one another’s clothes off. That night had been memorable,
especially after Zane had fucked her up against the rough wood siding on his
front porch, unable to keep his hands off of her long enough to make it inside.
Not that she had been complaining.

Unfortunately,
Zane was pretty sure V wasn’t here to let him worship her with his mouth,
although he liked that idea much better than what she probably had in mind. He
knew based on his conversation with Kaleb just a short while ago that this
wasn’t a pleasure visit. V had come over to see him just to keep him from going
to her house. He could tell just how much she wished to be anywhere else by the
way she sat with her back straight and her hands perfectly poised in her lap.

Him,
on the other hand...

Zane
wanted V as close to his side as he could get her. Preferably, he’d rather be
on top of her. Or under her. He wasn’t picky either way.

“Drink?”
Pushing away from the door, Zane glanced in her direction as he made his way to
the refrigerator. He wasn’t sure what he had to drink, but he was fairly
certain there was water. At this point, that’s all he needed. For some reason,
he felt a little dehydrated, and he was sure it was due to the way his blood
pressure had skyrocketed and his body temperature had increased since the second
he saw V on his front steps.

“No,
thank you.”

All
prim and proper, V was. Or so she tried to pretend. She might’ve forgotten that
Zane had seen her totally out of control with lust a time or twenty, but he
hadn’t. He was pretty sure he never would forget either.

“You
didn’t have to come all the way out here, you know.” Zane sat on the wooden
table across from V, doing his best not to reach out to touch her. “I would’ve
come to your house.”

V’s
pert little nose scrunched, her eyebrows dove down in a frown, and she didn’t
look directly at him. She tried to play off her initial reaction by leaning
back against the cushions, pretending to get comfortable as she did. She looked
tense, and not at all like she wanted to talk to him.

She
didn’t make a sound for what felt like an eternity. “Talk to me, V.”

“I
don’t think that’s a great idea.”

It
was Zane’s turn to frown as he studied her, trying to understand what she was
getting at. He’d been to her house on numerous occasions, right up until the assault
and never once had she seemed unhappy to see him.

“What?
Talking?” If she didn’t intend to talk to him, what the hell had she come over
for? “Help me out here, V,” he leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees
with the water bottle clutched between his hands.

Zane
never had been good at reading a woman’s mind and V’s was particularly
difficult to read. She had an uncanny ability to keep herself closed off as
much as possible.

“No.
You. Coming to my house. We know how well that worked out last time.” V’s remark
apparently shocked her as much as it shocked him. Her eyes flew up to meet his,
and he saw the same horror reflected in the whiskey brown color that he’d seen
moments before Jake Sanders had knocked him unconscious.

So
that was how she was going to handle this? Did she think that making him stay
away from her house was going to protect him? He felt the swirling, black hole,
filled with vehemence and loathing for what that bastard did to them, open up
inside of him.

There
had been so many times he wished he could go back to that day and change how
things had played out, but no matter how many times he thought about it, he
knew he couldn’t have changed anything. Jake had planned it all out and somehow
the man had gotten away with what he’d done, which had another jolt of anger
bursting free inside of him.

Zane
would admit that he hadn’t been happy when he found out that V had tried to take
all of the blame on herself. He’d wanted to talk to her, to shake her until she
understood that nothing she did caused it to happen. But seeing her now, seeing
the absolute anguish on her face broke his heart. The self-induced guilt was
eating her alive.

“Are
you ok?” Sitting the water bottle on the table beside him, Zane moved an inch
closer, his knees nearly touching hers.

From
the moment he woke up in that damned hospital bed two months ago, Zane had
wondered how she was holding up. Both physically and emotionally. From the
outside, V looked just as radiant as always, but he knew her better than she
thought. She was notorious for pretending all was great and perfect, but when
she didn’t know he was looking, there had been plenty of times he had seen her
with her guard down.

It
hit him that he didn’t even know whether she had sustained any injuries that
day. His memory had taken a little time to come back to him, but as soon as he
recalled the way one of those bastards had shoved V, sending her slamming into
the ground, he’d damn near walked out of the hospital that day. That one push
had distracted Zane enough, giving those fuckers exactly the opportunity they
needed to catch him off guard.

“I’m
fine. Why?” Her nonchalant attitude pissed him off sometimes. She acted as
though nothing fazed her, but he knew better. He could see it in the way she
forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Did
they hurt you?” He had to ask the question because he had to know. No one
seemed to know exactly what happened right after Zane had been knocked out.
Well, no one but V.

“They
didn’t hurt me,” she said, sounding for the first time, like she was trying to
reassure him. “They weren’t there for me, Zane. Jake just used me to get to
you.”

“He
didn’t
use
you, Vanessa. Jake came after
me
. It just happened to
take place at your house. There’s a big difference.”

The
words came out a little harsher than he intended, but it was more than obvious
that she was layering the blame on herself. He wanted to reassure her that it
wasn’t her fault. He knew they needed to talk about what happen, but Zane was
hesitant to relive those memories so soon after he was released from the
hospital.

He
knew full well what it would do to him mentally. That black hole of fury was
pulling him under, and if there was anything Zane knew about himself, it was
that his temper bordered on out of control. He’d become intimately familiar
with it during the few conversations that he’d had with that damn psychiatrist
– or whatever she wanted to call herself – that his mother insisted he talk to
in the hospital.

V’s
eyes lowered. “I’m so sorry.” Her whispered words broke his heart and pissed
him off at the same time.

“You
have nothing to be sorry about, V.” This time he lowered his voice, trying to
reassure her as he leaned closer, reaching out for the first time to touch her.
Tilting her chin up so she had to meet his eyes, he smiled sadly, “Nothing that
happened, that day or any other, was your fault.”