Page 37 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
Zac also leans close, pressing his lips to my ear. “Nuh-uh.”
Laughing, I go to lean back, but his hands catch me and pull me back up. In a second, his fingertips are prodding at my side, poking into my middle and around my ribcage, and causing me to laugh in a fit.
“Please! Zac, stop,” I’m begging him in between gasps of air and laughter. My hands find his, and I try clenching his digits to pull them away, but he’s too strong. He flips me around so I’m on my back on the couch and then stands over me, letting his fingers continue their walk.
“Come on, Etta.” His nose touches mine. “Admit it. I’m mature, too. Come on.”
“I can’t admit anything unless you stop,” I manage, relieved when his fingers come to an unmoving halt. But they stay planted where they land, as if he’s ready to start up again.
“Okay, I stopped. Unless you admit I’m also mature”—he wiggles his digits, causing me to squirm—“it’s more tickle. So?”
Opening my mouth, I slam my eyes into his, ready with a retort on the tip of my tongue. It was a comeback to rule all comebacks, but something in his look stops me. His eyes follow mine, and I taste his breath as it hits my lips. My hands fly to his face, stroking his jawline as he drags a finger up to my cheek.
Zac drops his head so the tip of his nose caresses my neck and the heat of his breath ripples across my skin. Sighing, I let out a gasp of air as I let my fingers thread their way through his tresses and pulled him closer to me.
His hands are firm and strong, his grip cinching around my waist as he pulls me up with him, holding me and looking at me as we sit tangled on the tiny couch in the small living room of the cabin. The smell of cedar surrounds us, but so does sandalwood and clean sheets, Zac’s signature scent.
My hands dance along his arms, which wrap around my middle as he clutches me and pulls me close, his lips dropping and slanting across mine. I let my body respond in kind and pull his head closer, allowing me to press my lips firmer onto his. And I’m not stopping him because I don’t want him to stop.
This kiss isn’t like any other kiss I’ve had before. Not one with Steve and not from anyone I’ve dated ever. This kiss with Zac is what I would imagine happens when explosives and firecrackers get married. It’s hot and it crackles with heat and energy, and I am seeing stars.
But…there’s always a but, isn’t there? Dropping my hands to my sides, I pull away, taking a moment to catch my breath. When I look Zac’s way, I see he’s doing the same but also keeping one eye on me.
A tiny smile dances on the ends of his lips as he reaches out a hand to push a few strands of hair away from my eyes.
“Hi.” His whisper is throaty, sexy.
“Hey,” I croak before cackling. “Sorry.” I clear my throat and Zac laughs.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect that, either.” He chews on his bottom lip as he watches me. I’m still over here trying to calm my heart rate down.
When I allow my eyes to find his, I know that in a second we could start this whole thing all over again—but we can’t. And not because I’m the cougar, but because I’m going to lay down the law. For now.
“I really don’t know where to go from here.” I’m half joking, half not. So I do what my defense mechanism tells me to do: I start to retreat.
Glancing at my watch, I tap its face. “I’m wiped, and we need to get up early.”
“Me, too,” Zac says, standing. He holds his hand out, and I place mine inside his, letting him help me to my feet. We stand close, looking at one another for what seems like ages before I pull away.
“I’m gonna go…” I point to the master bedroom door. “Alone, that is. To my room.”
“That’s fine with me.” Zac’s eyes are laughing now even if his mouth isn’t. “I’m gonna go to that room now,” he says as he points to his door. “Alone. By myself. If I hear any cougars scratching at my door to get in, I’ll call the local vet. You hear me?”
Is it awkward? I guess. Weird? For sure. Am I wondering how we’re going to handle this? You bet I am.
But first I need to get in my room. I grip the door handle and swing the door open, turning around to look at Zac one more time before I close it.
“Do you wanna talk about what just happened, McCoy?” Zac asks me, his head tilted to the side.
“Later,” I whisper. “It’s late.”
“Okay.” Zac throws one last sultry grin my way. “Night, Etta.”
“Night, Zac.”
Ever so softly, I close the door behind me. As it closes, I lean my back against it and slowly slide to the floor with my fingertips touching the spot on my mouth where Zac’s lips were holding court just a mere few minutes ago.
What is this man doing to me?
