Page 29 of One Night Stand After Another
Feeling bold, she stripped her sweater over her head and tossed it at him. He caught it and held it to his nose. “I think I’m developing a yarn fetish,” he said.
From the look of the front of his pants, he was correct.
He set the sweater on the desk chair, adjusted himself, swore, and left the room.
She walked to the window, exclaiming aloud at the lovely view of a lake. God, she’d be happy spending the week in this charming little Ohio town with the enchanting yarn shop, incredible restaurant, and delightful hotel.
She cut that thought off at the root.
Nope—she was following her dream and getting a job at Fiber Kingdom. This was purely for fun. No harm in fun. But she was not going to deviate from her plan, no matter what.
She entered the bathroom and discovered a very modern shower stall, accompanied by a clawfoot tub with a tray that held a pretty blend of potpourri. She moved to take a closer look and discovered it was tub tea. Apparently, you could put it in the tub loose or pack it into the accompanying bag and steep yourself. Would Zane enjoy making human tea with her? Hmmm…
Maybe later. As much as she’d enjoyed the build-up, the wait, the slow certainty of satisfaction, and the abundance of yarn, for goodness’ sake, she might scream if they didn’t end the tension between them soon.
She turned on the shower and pulled the band from her ponytail, gathering her curls into a bun on top of her head and securing them. She couldn’t wait to rinse the road from her skin. This morning felt like it was days ago.
She stepped into the shower and stood under the spray, and when she closed her eyes, colors paraded through her mind’s eye. So much gorgeous yarn. So much inspiration. When she was designing or crocheting, she felt pure joy. Her worries fell away, and she lived in the moment, peaceful yet charged with energy.
The creative zone was her favorite place to be, and a change of scenery was exactly what she needed. She hated that it had taken her ten years to correct her course. She was meant to create. To seek inspiration in life and spin it into wearable art. She already had three new ideas for designs, and they’d only been on the road for five actual hours. How was she going to keep track of them all?
Her blog, of course. Old school. Entirely hers. She could write posts about what inspired her along the way.Lord knows I’ll have enough time to work on the sweaters.Maybe she’d even mention her designs in her interview with the Fiber King. At that thought, her lingering misgivings dissolved and rolled down the drain. This was a great detour. She’d always wanted to travel. Her blog and her new yarn would keep her focused on her goal. She was fine.
She let the colors and ideas play in her mind’s eye until her fingers began to prune, and she knew if she didn’t get out, she was going to melt into a puddle in bed. What was taking him so long?
The sound of a door closing made her sigh in relief.
Three quick knocks sounded on the bathroom door, and then it opened. “Mind if I brush my teeth?” Zane asked.
“Come on in.” She turned off the water and pulled an enormous white towel from where she’d draped it over the top of the shower. She wiped her face and wrapped it around her body. Then she opened the shower door.
Zane wiped his mouth. “Sorry it took so long. Need anything?”
“My toothbrush. I don’t want to be the only one with garlic breath.”
“No need to brush on my account.” He stroked one finger along the top edge of her towel. “Or dress.”
He tugged the towel loose and looked at her, making a low sound in the back of his throat that caused her relaxed body to tighten.
“I’ve reached the limit of my patience.” He dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the round curve of her belly. His dark five o’clock shadow created pleasurable friction. His hands clutched her hips, holding her still. He moved lower, his breath feathering the trimmed hair between her thighs. She held her breath, wondering if he would dive right in.
He tilted his head and looked up at her, gray gaze piercing. “Do you know what it’s like to sit beside someone, perfectly happy to make chit-chat, to drive miles, shop, eat, and carry on with life while at the exact same time wish you were doing this?” His hand slid down her hip, between her legs. She lost her breath, wondering. One finger teased her, stroked, and then slowly slid inside.
He smiled, a predatory baring of teeth. “All day, I was thinking about how you taste, remembering how tight you are, how it felt when you came with me inside you, and looking forward to doing it again. I have been hard all day.”
He punctuated his words by slowly sliding his finger in and out of her body. Each passage got easier as she readied for him. His finger felt like warm silk, gliding against her, and every inch of her skin came alive, welcoming his touch. “So responsive. I can feel you getting wet. I’m going to do things to you tonight that will make you lose your mind because you want to come so bad. We’re going to do it so slowly that when we finally come, we’ll come so hard there won’t be anything left of us.”
“For a guy with such filthy plans, you sure do have a lot of clothes on.”
He nodded. “If I take them off, I’m going to fuck you, fast and hard, which is not a bad thing, but it’s not my plan. Yet.” He crooked his finger inside her, and she clenched. Tightening.
“Breathe,” he demanded.
She pulled air into her lungs. He rubbed hard, in and out, up and down, pressing relentlessly.
“Breathe,” he repeated.
Air whooshed out of her lungs.
