He turned away, running through the possible outcomes of telling her the truth. None of which were good. She’d either call him a liar or he’d ruin their friendship. The elevator stopped at their floor, and she pulled out of his grasp, storming down the hall. She looked sexy as hell stomping her little tanned feet, her incredible ass swaying angrily. He was so screwed.
She reached their room and stood with her arms crossed and an angry scowl on her face.
He swiped the keycard and pushed the door open.
She shoved past him, tugging at the ring on her finger. “Why did you do this, anyway? Why me? Go get someone you can at least kiss, because obviously I’m not the type of woman you like anyway, so no one is going to believe it.” Her face was red with frustration. The ring was stuck on her finger. She pushed his chest. “I can’t take it off!”
He grabbed her wrist. “Because you aren’t supposed to.”
She was breathing so hard, smelled so good, but that desperate, sad look in her eyes did him in.
“Tell me why, Zane.” She seemed to sober up. Her words were clear, her body steady. “Why wouldn’t you kiss me out there? I’m trying to play your game. I guess I found the line between being your adoring arm candy that you can press your lips and body to whenever you see fit and your don’t-touch-me friend. Clearly we’re not that good at crossing lines these days unless it’s done by your rules.”
He stepped forward, still holding her wrist, and her back met the wall with a thud. “Stop. Talking.”
“No. I want to know why you won’t kiss me.”
“You don’t want to kiss me, Willow.” He heard the greed in his voice. “You’re just drunk.”
“Maybe I just needed the liquid courage to act on my feelings. Maybe I’m just like all those other women who want you.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” he snapped. “You’re nothing like them.”
She arched against him, her hand surfing over his ass, her eyes turning sultry and dark. “That’s why you don’t want me?”
“Damn it, Willow.” He grabbed hold of her other wrist, pressing both against the wall beside her head. “Because if I kiss you, I won’t want to stop, and we can’t go there.”
Challenge rose in her eyes.
“Wills,” he warned. “You’ll regret it in the morning.”
She bowed away from the wall, brushing her thighs against his. “One kiss.”
He pressed his body to hers, and her back met the wall again. She had to feel what she was doing to him. Had to know how much he wanted her. He should walk away, take a cold shower, and figure out how to get through the next two weeks, but he was drawn to her like metal to magnet. He wanted to peel her out of that dress and consume every inch of her.
“Why?” He had to know why she was pushing him so hard.
She ran her tongue over her lower lip, leaving it slick and enticing. “For old times’ sake.”
He touched his cheek to hers, and she shuddered against him. As he breathed in her feminine scent, he realized why he’d held her like this so many times over the past few hours. It had been how he’d calmed her down all those years ago. She’d been so nervous, trembling even as she’d tried to act tough, just like she was now. But he’d known the truth. She was terrified. Was she scared now?
“Your body remembers us,” he whispered, and he couldn’t refrain from sweeping his tongue around the shell of her ear, as he’d done that night. “My body remembers us.” He rocked his hips against hers and gazed into her eyes.
“Z,” she said on a long, heated breath, reminding him of the breathless girl of almost eighteen who had captured his heart.
“I can’t sleep with you, Willow. I care about you too much to jeopardize our friendship again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re an arrogant man. I want your mouth, not your cock.”
Jesus, his Willow was back in charge. Her confidence was an aphrodisiac—always had been. He held on to his control by a fraying thread. “Seeing your pretty mouth say that dirty word, baby . . . You have no idea how many times I have fantasized about that filthy mouth of yours. A kiss will never be enough. For either of us.”
He tightened his hold on her wrists to keep from filling his hands with other enticing parts of her. She slid her knee up his inner thigh, tempting him to the edge of reason. He crushed his chest to hers and touched his lips to her forearm, aching to be buried deep inside her. She watched, breathing harder with each press of his lips as he kissed a trail down her arm. He moved his hand from her wrist to her fingers, holding her palm open, and circled it with his tongue, earning a heady moan from her.
“Zane,” she begged.
He brushed his lips over hers again, torturing them both as she craned forward, trying to catch his mouth. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop once he got ahold of her luscious lips. He kissed her neck, loving the way she craned back, offering him more. He dragged his tongue down the center and along her breastbone, then kissed his way back up again. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. He laced their hands together again, still holding them against the wall, struggling to maintain control of the desires stacking up inside him.
“Promise me you won’t take off that ring.”
“I won’t,” she panted out.
“Promise me you won’t hate me for being weak. You’ve always owned me.”
“I . . .” Her eyes came open, confusion and desire gazing back at him.
He’d stunned them both with his confession, but he didn’t have time to explain. He needed her more than he’d ever needed anything in his life. “One kiss, baby.”
“Yes—”
He cupped her jaw, the fear of what they were risking causing his fingers and thumb to press too hard into her flesh as he angled her mouth beneath his. “Promise you’ll push me away if I get carried away.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, couldn’t wait another second. Their mouths crashed together in a desperate, fervent kiss. She tasted sweet and hot, meeting his efforts with insatiable hunger. His emotions reeled. He’d fantasized about kissing Willow again for so long, he couldn’t hold back, and he took the kiss deeper, kissing her rougher. She was right there with him, opening wider as he plundered and took, and took, and took.
ZANE DIDN’T JUST kiss Willow; he possessed her with his arms, his hands, his wicked tongue. He delved into the far recesses of her mouth, unleashing a surge of heat that first flooded, then consumed her from the inside out. She had almost forgotten what a real kiss felt like. The way his kisses could draw the energy from every limb, until she felt it creeping beneath her skin, moving toward his talented mouth. His kiss reached into her core, stoking a long-ago forgotten fire, breathing spirals of ecstasy into every iota of her being. She grasped at his arms in an effort to remain erect in her dizzying world. Just when she was sure her heart would explode, his fingers fisted in her hair, and he tugged her head back—hard.
His eyes were volcanic, and seeing him so desperate for her, so lost in them, sent her pulse skyrocketing.