He pounced.
One second Eve sat beside him, avoiding his gaze, the next she lay on her back—pinned to the couch by one very aroused man—staring at him with wide eyes.
“What are you—”
Zachary kissed her. Took her mouth with his and swallowed the rest of her words. He swallowed her surprised yelp too. A rational thought, buried somewhere deep in his mind, tried to make itself known. Tried to warn him that if he didn’t back off soon, he’d find himself in deep waters with Eve Andrews. Too deep for him to swim back out of.
But he couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t listen.
Not when Eve’s surprise turned into hunger. Not when her mouth responded with a fervor similar to his own. Not when she parted her lips and let his tongue in, let him explore and taste.
And definitely not when she moaned softly beneath him and her hand crept over his shoulder to grasp his neck, holding him to her.
Blood emptied into his groin. He was hard as a fucking rock. His erection pushed against her leg, reminding him all over again how tiny she was. How fragile. Like a porcelain doll beneath him. Never mind her mouth, he could crush her with his body.
But that didn’t seem to faze her. Didn’t seem to stop her from pulling him closer, from bending one knee and slipping her foot around his thigh, twining her leg with his.
Fearing he might injure her with his bulk, Zachary pushed up, holding his upper body weight on his lower arms. But, damn it, he couldn’t move off her altogether. Couldn’t break contact. He rocked over her, against her, arching his back so he could rock his erection over her pussy.
Fuck. If that didn’t clear his lungs of oxygen and his head of thought…
Eve twined her other arm around his shoulder and used him shamelessly to lift herself up, press her body against his.
She rocked in time with him, gripped his leg tighter with hers.
Her breasts grazed his chest. Those pert breasts he’d admired earlier, and damned if he didn’t wish their shirts away. Didn’t wish it was her naked flesh tantalizing his.
And then Eve groaned, louder this time, a groan vibrating with frustration. She pulled her mouth away and dropped back onto the couch, breaking contact.
She swore under her breath as she slipped her arms from around his neck and her foot off his leg.
He chased her mouth, intent on possessing it again, possessing her. All of her. He’d imagined her naked chest against his, and God help him, he wanted it. Wanted her, naked. Beneath him. Or on top of him. Both. First one then the other.
But she stopped him. Placed her hand on his chest and halted his descent.
“Door,” she whispered, her voice a husky murmur.
“Huh?” Her lips were full, red, and so damn tempting he wanted to pull that lower one into his mouth and suck on it.
“Someone…at…door.”
It took him a good few seconds to comprehend her meaning. Impossible to think when his head was so full of her. When her floral scent baffled his senses and her chocolaty taste filled his mouth. Impossible to focus on anything but the feel of her all wrapped around him.
“Food,” she said. “Room service?”
Ah. Right. Of course. Room service.
Reluctantly Zachary pushed himself off the couch.
He ran a hand over his swollen lips and took several breaths, not at all calmed by the fresh oxygen. His balls were tight knots and his dick an aching rod squashed by his jeans. “This…” He lifted a finger in the air and motioned between the two of them. “This is not over. Not by a long shot.”
Then he turned around and headed to the door, adjusting his jeans as he walked. For the second time that night he was facing the public with an erection.
Jesus, wasn’t he doing a stand-up job of holding on to his saintly image of the self-restrained rock star?
“A butler? Seriously?” Eve stared at the crisp, white cloth that now covered the dining table, along with the silver cutlery and the two formal place settings. In her world, room service involved a tray. End of story.
Zachary shrugged. “Luke books us in as VIPs. Sure you won’t have a bite?” He motioned to this burger.
”Not for me, thanks.” But she couldn’t stop her gaze from straying to the mousse.
Zachary grinned. “Will you just sit down already and eat it?”
Eve couldn’t resist. She sat opposite him and tucked in, watching while he ate.
“Want some fries?” he offered.
“We call them chips here. And no thanks.”
“You speak funny here.”
Ah. That just proved her earlier point. “See? I told you we lived in different leagues. Different worlds.”
“Ever hear the expression opposites attract?”
“Ever try responding with an answer, not a question?”
“Fine.” He paused, burger in hand. “I like our differences. They make us more interesting to each other.”
Eve frowned. She didn’t find Zachary Pace interesting. She found him fascinating. And it wasn’t just a matter of physical attraction for her. It was more like a magnetic force that kept her in his suite. She couldn’t pull herself away. Didn’t want to. After their second kiss, she doubted she’d ever want to leave his side.
Jonah Speed, aloof and mysterious, had to be the sexiest man alive. He was smoldering sex and savage sensuality. Zachary Pace, warm, engaging, caring and talkative, had to be the most alluring. And the two of them together? A lethal combination, for sure, one that even now chipped away at her defenses, drilled into her heart and kept her hungry to discover more about him.
Which was daft, really. She should get her ass out of his room, break the spell he held her under and go back to Eve-world. And she would. Definitely. Just as soon as she’d polished off the chocolate mousse, which honestly, was more delicious than any hotel-made mousse had a right to be.
Or maybe her taste buds were just stimulated beyond reason. Because when Zachary had kissed her again, she’d known, with absolute certainty, nothing had ever tasted or felt better. Her response had been visceral. She’d felt it in every cell of her body, every nerve ending. And every one of those nerve endings still zinged, leaving her skin hypersensitive to even the slightest breeze. His gaze felt like a zillion tingles whistling over her flesh.
“I haven’t forgotten about your redhead, you know.” Was that a warning to him or to her?
“Neither have I,” he said honestly. “And I never will. She’s been a part of me since I was a kid. That doesn’t mean I’m a saint, Eve. It doesn’t mean I haven’t had flings or girlfriends or fallen in love before. Doesn’t mean I find you any less attractive. She’s not here now, and I intend to live my life to the fullest before she arrives.”
He set his knife and fork down and changed the subject. “Ya know, I would leave every last bite of food on this plate, maybe even give up food for good, if you would come on over here and let me feed you that chocolate mousse.”
She blinked. “Y-you want to feed me?”
“I want to watch, close up, how you savor every spoonful. The look on your face, the dreaminess in your eyes… It’s like you’re having an orgasm. Or approaching one fast.” He swallowed. “Get on over here. I wanna witness it up close.”
“W-why?”
“Because, it’s sexy as sin. And watching you eat is giving me the hard-on from hell.” He groaned softly and pushed his chair back, standing. “Forget it,” he rasped. “Don’t move. Not an inch.”
The second he rose, she spotted that hard-on. It was impossible to miss. And damn, it did funny things to those tingles on her skin. Intensified them. Made them feel like sharp darts of carnal need.
And then he was beside her, taking the spoon from her hand and dipping it into the bowl. “Open wide, beautiful.”