Page 28 of Stuffed

"Like what?"

"Coming apart underneath me." I shift my angle, watching her gasp. "Letting me see you. All of you."

"Zane…" Her voice breaks on my name as she arches beneath me.

"That's it, baby." I can feel her getting close again. "Let go for me."

She does, spectacularly, taking me with her. And as we come down together, as our breathing syncs and our hearts slow, I realize something terrifying. I could get used to this. To her in my bed, in my life, in my heart.

To letting someone see past the carefully crafted image.

To being… real.

"Stay," I whisper again, pulling her closer.

"I already said I would." She yawns, snuggling into me.

"No, I mean…" I trail off, not sure how to express what I mean. Not ready to admit that I want her to stay longer than just tonight. That I want her to stay… always.

She lifts her head, giving me that dangerous smile that started all this.

I kiss her again, slow and deep. Not quite ready to admit that to her or even myself just yet.

And as she melts against me, as snow blankets the city in white, I realize that, even though I’m terrified of what this is or even giving it a name, I’m not terrified of having this woman fall asleep in my arms, in my bed.

Chapter 9

Tessa

Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, painting patterns across crisp white sheets. I stretch languidly, memories of last night bringing a smile to my face. My body aches in the best possible way.

"Morning."

I roll over, then pause. Zane's already dressed in a sharp navy suit, typing on his phone. The warmth from last night seems to have evaporated with the morning dew.

"You're up early," I say carefully, pulling the sheet higher.

"Meeting across town." He doesn't look up. "Coffee's in the kitchen if you want some."

"Oh." I sit up slowly, studying his profile. "I could get ready quickly if you want to grab breakfast?"

"Can't. Running late." He finally glances at me, but his expression is unreadable. "You can let yourself out whenever. Just make sure the door locks behind you."

"Right." I try to keep my voice light. "Maybe dinner later?"

He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. "We'll see. I've got back-to-back meetings today."

Then he's gone, leaving only the echo of his footsteps and the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Don't overthink it," I mutter to myself. "He's busy. It's fine."

I take my time getting ready, trying to shake off the morning's weird vibe. His shower is ridiculous—multiple showerheads and perfect pressure. I spend extra time washing my hair with his expensive shampoo, letting the hot water soothe my nerves.

Back in yesterday's dress, I wander to his kitchen. True to his word, there's coffee—still hot in an elaborate machine. I find a travel mug in one of his cabinets and pour some to go.

"See?" I tell myself. "He made sure there was coffee. That means something."

I stop by my apartment first, changing into clean clothes and applying a fresh layer of makeup and quickly drying my hair before heading back out the door.

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