Part 29 (1/2)
”Give that back,” she ordered.
He tossed it over one shoulder, daring her to go for it.
”You want to act like someone else, not the woman you're supposed to be, but the woman you want to be. In fact, I think...” His voice trailed away, leaving her hanging, edgy, wanting more.
”You think what?” she prodded.
”I think you want to scream.”
”I am not going to scream,” she said firmly. ”I don't do that. It's not dignified.”
”Maybe Katherine Whitfield is dignified, but Kat-Kat is all woman, wild and wonderful.”
He smiled, his mouth s.e.xy and full, his lips showing a trace of wetness where he'd run his tongue over them. Katherine wanted to put her tongue right there, to follow the wet line, to slide between his lips.
”I could make you scream,” he said softly, dropping down to his knees in front of her.
Eye to eye, mouth to mouth, chest to chest. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed, what she'd come here for.
”Zach.”
”Yes?”
She put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. His lips were just a breath away from hers, and she wanted to taste him more than she wanted to breathe. ”Make me scream.”
He stole the last word as his mouth covered hers, his tongue sweeping inside. His hands molded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through her thin T-s.h.i.+rt. She made no protest when he lifted the s.h.i.+rt over her head. She helped him undo her bra, impatient to have his hands on her skin, his mouth on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
And he did exactly what she wanted, burying his face in the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then sliding his tongue around her nipples in long, slow swirls that drew closer to the heart of her desire. She felt like she'd go mad with wanting him. Her whole body tingled at every stroke, every touch.
He pushed her back so she was lying half on the sofa, half off, and when he pulled her pants off her legs, she kicked her way out of her panties, almost begging him to touch her there where she needed him.
She pulled the s.h.i.+rt off his back and reached for his pants, feeling the hardness packed into his jeans. But she couldn't reach the snap or the zipper, because Zach was trailing kisses across her stomach.
”Zach, help me,” she pleaded, wanting him to take off his jeans, wanting him to hurry, to bury himself inside her.
But Zach wasn't listening to her. He wasn't paying attention. Oh, Lord! His mouth had moved down to the juncture of her thighs. She felt his breath, a whisper of pure tantalizing torture. Then his tongue descended on the most private part of her.
She tried to fight the desire, the loss of control, but the tension in her body reached a fever pitch as his hands held her in place, as his relentless tongue drove her higher and higher.
”Scream, Kat,” he urged. ”Scream.”
And with the next sweep of his tongue, she did exactly that, letting go of everything as her body convulsed over and over again, until she felt like she'd touched the moon and come back.
Zach crept back up her body, smiling down at her. ”Very nice, very undignified, Miss Whitfield. You show great promise.”
She stroked the side of his face. ”You're very generous.”
”Are you kidding? That was for me as much as for you.”
”Liar.”
She pushed him up so he was sitting on the couch, then knelt in front of him, pulling his jeans down to his ankles. When he was as naked as she was, she climbed on top of him.
”You're very demanding,” he complained as she straddled his legs with hers.
”Because I want you inside me, Zach. I want to feel you here.” She put a hand over her heart.
”I'm not sure I'm that-”
”Oh, you are. Believe me, you are.” She reached down to touch him, stroking the silky hot hardness that brought a golden glitter to his eyes. ”Maybe I should torture you now.”
”You already are,” he murmured, locking his arms behind her waist as he pulled her down onto him with a deep groan of satisfaction.
She moved up and down on him, watching the emotions chase across his face, the honest need that he couldn't hide. When he drove into her one last time, he cried out her name. It wasn't a scream, but for a man like Zach, it was as close as she was going to get.
Chapter 18.
A short while later Katherine lay wrapped in Zach's arms on the long, narrow couch.
”Do you have a bed?” she asked.
Zach nibbled on her ear. ”Mm-mm, I think so. Why?”
”Just wondering if we might ever make love there.”
”That depends on how long you're planning to stick around.”
She squirmed around in his arms so she was facing him. ”Am I invited?”
He didn't say anything for a long moment. ”I could kick you out, Kat, but somehow I think we'd find ourselves right back in this same position tomorrow night.”
”Would that be so bad?”
”I guess not.”
”That's what I like, a definite answer.” She studied the hard lines of his face, noting the deep tan of his skin, honed by hours in the sun, the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, and the tiny scar that cut across his chin. She traced it with her finger. ”Where did you get this?”
”I don't remember.”
”That's convenient.”
”What can I say? I'm horribly flawed.”
”You're not exactly a monster.”
”Sometimes monsters come in pretty packages,” Zach said somberly. ”You can't let a nice face fool you.”