Instead, she felt the burn of his lips on her skin, the heat of his fingers as they wandered up her thighs, cupping her bottom, and caressing the most tender spot between her legs.
“Zeke…” She couldn’t breathe, her body coiled tight with how much she wanted his fingers on every bit of her skin, his mouth everywhere else, and his whole manhood deep, deep inside her. Just thinking of that made her roll against his hard-on, earning a grunt of pain and pleasure and an intensified sucking against her neck.
The rumble of the causeway under the tires told her they were almost home, and when they got there…
“I want to make love to you,” he rasped into their kiss. “I want every inch of you, Mandy Mitchell.” He slipped a finger into her wet panties, deep enough to know without a doubt that she wanted the same thing. “I will be so gentle,” he promised.
The words tore her heart out. “I know you will, but...”
“Don’t be scared, honey. I will go so slowly.” He stroked her with his thumb. “So soft and sweet and easy.” Sparks ignited between her legs, fueled by the seductive words.
She could barely nod, her breath so twisted in her lungs, fighting the orgasm that already threatened. One more second, one more caress, one more promise, and she’d be gone.
“This is…wrong.”
“It’s going to be all right,” he assured her. “We’re going to tear that contract to shreds. Along with this dress.”
“No, I mean—”
The limo came to a stop in the driveway of his villa. She eased off him, straightening her dress and hair, trying to get her breath. He could tear that paper-towel contract and this dress, and it wouldn’t change anything. She was…who she was.
And she could never be his.
Except…maybe this one night, before he left. One night, one time, one sweet, sweet night…she could be his. Doug couldn’t steal everything from her. He couldn’t take away this one night.
* * *
Zeke had Mandy in his arms before the lights of the limo disappeared, scooping her right off the ground and carrying her up to the door, her laughter like music as she dropped her head back.
“What are you doing?”
“Sweeping you off your feet. And, shit, the key’s in my pocket.”
She reached her hand between them, going for his pocket but landing on his throbbing hard-on instead. He hissed. “Don’t make me drop you, Mandy.”
She laughed again, giving him a squeeze, then finding her way into the pocket to produce the card key. “Voilà!” She held it up, and he positioned her so she could unlock the door, and he pushed them in.
“Are you going to put me down?”
“On the bed.” He took her straight down the hall to the bedroom, where the efficient staff had followed his secret instructions and left about two dozen hurricane-style candles burning around the whole room.
“Zeke!” she exclaimed as he set her on the bed, kneeling over her. “This is so romantic.”
“I wanted our first time to be perfect for you, Mandy.” He slowly lowered himself to the bed. “As perfect as you are.”
Her eyes fluttered in acknowledgment of that, each breath she took slow and strained.
“I never want to hurt you.” He traced a line along her cheek and jaw, sliding up to her parted lips.
She whispered something he didn’t catch. Pretend end? “What was that?”
Her eyes darkened under a frown. “Zeke, this was only supposed to be for a week.”
He kissed her softly, tracing his lips to her ears. “What is this ‘supposed to’ you speak of?”
She shuddered a little, and he kissed her with every ounce of tenderness a man with a raging boner could manage, letting her warm to the intimacy and relax in his arms. But she seemed more tense.
“Deep breaths, Mandy. I’m not going to hurt you.”
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her shoulders, so he kissed it, tasting salt and perfume and sweet, sweet Mandy. He lifted her body enough to unzip her dress in the back.
“Zeke, I really shouldn’t…”
“Shhh.” He feathered kisses over her breastbone, tugging the strapless dress lower and lower until her breasts were revealed. He dipped his head to kiss one and caress the other, making her gasp and arch her back.
“Oh, my…”
He ran his tongue over her nipple, loving the hard bud and sweet taste, sucking hard enough to make a noise. Blood rushed in his head, amazing him that there was any left there, considering how much had flowed to his lower half.
Still, he fought to hold back, easing that dress down, watching her chest rise and fall and seem to fight a losing battle.
Her head moved back and forth, almost as if she was saying…no. He paused for a moment, so hyperaware of her fears, stilling his hands.
“Zeke, we…can’t.”
“We can,” he whispered, inching his way up to kiss her mouth and talk to her. “We really can.”
“But…there’s this paper…”
He laughed softly. “You’re going to hold me to that contract?”
For a minute, her whole body stilled, and then she looked at him. “What good is a contract if you ignore it?”
Was she serious? “How about I burn it?”
“Zeke, I have to… there’s something—”
A soft tap on the outside door cut her off and made him frown. “Did you hear that?”
“Housekeeping!”
Her eyes widened. “It’s Tori!”
“Shit.” He pushed off the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll take care of her.”
“Zeke, wait.” She grabbed his arm. “I have to tell you something. It’s important. I have to—”
“Housekeeping!” She was inside!
He let out a disgusted grunt. “Does she think this is how to keep guests happy? Hold your thought, I’ll be right back.”
Why would she come in, he wondered as he marched down the hall. The wall safe where he kept valuables was hidden in the dining area, but she’d know that. She wouldn’t know the combination, though. He turned into the living room and found her putting something on the coffee table.
“What the hell do you want?”
She straightened, unafraid or even surprised to see him. “I’ve left something for you, sir.”
At this hour? “What is it?”
“Oh, a special gift from housekeeping.” She gave a tight smile. “Hope the sheets were clean enough for you and Mrs. Lockhart.”