Spin the Bottle Read online

  “Zane,” she breathed out as she kissed him, and he renewed his efforts.

  And she actually kissed him back. She clutched his biceps before tangling her hands in his hair and tugging as she slanted her head for better access. She tasted like sleepy sunshine—a flavor he couldn’t get enough of.

  She squirmed underneath him, her soft warmth spurning him on, and he couldn’t help but to rock his hips into the juncture of her thighs. A gasp escaped her mouth, and she opened her eyes, first in a dazed way, then widening with alarm.

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  She was awake now, but Zane wasn’t moving. He did stop kissing her though. With his elbows propped on the pillow on either side of her head, he rested his face on his hands and looked down at her.

  Her pushes against him were weak at best, and he felt like he might be getting a little aggressive, but this was important. He’d stopped kissing her, and she was in his bed, so he didn’t think he was doing anything wrong.

  “Go to dinner with me.” Zane wasn’t asking because he didn’t want to hear the word no come out of her mouth.

  “You drove back? You’re here?” She was still sleepy, not noticing his fingers as they roamed around in her hair.

  He grinned at her. “Yup. Dinner?” He twisted a tendril of her hair around his finger and pulled it lightly.

  “What about your mom?”

  “This is why she had so many boys. Their wives can help take care of her in her time of need. She doesn’t even miss me. Dinner?” He tugged affectionately, relishing the softness of her hair. It was smooth and silky and just one more thing he liked about her.

  Zane lowered his face to her neck, where it had all started, and inhaled her scent again before laying a row of kisses across her collarbone. More things to like: her scent, her soft skin, and the noise she was making in the back of her throat.

  “If I agree to dinner, will you go somewhere else for a minute? I’ll go home so you can rest.” Her hands had stopped pushing and started gripping again. She pushed her pelvis up against his, and the sensation of a rutting teenager overwhelmed him.

  “Yes, but stay. I’ll sleep on the floor in the living room.” He sucked the skin of her neck into his mouth, wanting to leave a mark and ignoring the twitch of his cock her groan incited.

  “Don’t have to do that. Your house.” It seemed she was trying to talk in complete sentences, but the more he focused on her the less she was able to, and he loved the fact he had that effect on her.

  He ground his pelvis into hers, the half-dozen layers of clothing and bedding making it super frustrating. The noise she made was worth it though.

  “I’ll do it. I like knowing you’re in my bed.” Zane planted one more kiss on her lips and rose, jauntily leaping from the bed with more energy than he felt. He wanted to stay there all night but knew the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. Besides, he thought he’d gotten his point across. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He winked as he forced himself out of the room.

  Grabbing a pillow and blanket out of the hall closet, he walked into the living room and made a pallet next to Otis’s crate. Damn dog hadn’t barked once since he’d been here. He could see where he may have to do some guard dog training. He didn’t want random people walking into his house like Hollywood, Katie, and that other girl had earlier.

  Wait. He hadn’t even asked her about that shit. He’d gotten all distracted with her scent and taste and …

  Zane rolled over and adjusted his erection, trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow, when he went to bed, it would smell like her.

  Chapter Seven

  Okay, so Lettie couldn’t remember when she’d gone out on a date. Men these days were just pure lazy with the dating game. It was all “Netflix and Chill.” For the most part, her boyfriends had all just wanted to hang out and watch movies, eat, and have sex. Thomas was the exception. He’d made her think they would be together forever, and for some reason she had bought it all. Every line.

  She’d bought him an Xbox, too, among other things. She could have taken it all when they broke up, but why the fuck would she want an Xbox? Or shit to breed hedgehogs? Oh God. She’d become the new owner of twenty cages, countless bags of cat food, and more hedgehogs than she cared to count. Lettie had managed to find an exotic animal rescue that would take them all. At the time, she didn’t want anything else to do with the bastard who’d broken her heart. She saw her foolishness now. She could have sold the stuff she’d bought him and recouped some of her losses. It seemed like so much trouble at the time, and she didn’t want trouble. She wanted out. Besides, the bonfire had been so satisfying, even if her grandma had stood over it with a fire extinguisher in one hand, a margarita in the other, and a cigarette dangling from her lips.

  Lettie had sworn she was done, but look at her now. What had she gotten herself into? Clearly, she’d gotten into something she didn’t understand.

  Now she had a date with the one guy she’d been trying to push away. The harder she pushed, the more he pushed back and the less she remembered why she was pushing him away to begin with.

  Because she had agreed to a date with him. A date. She couldn’t remember the last date she’d been on.

  Now, while she was getting ready—showering, shaving, moisturizing, blow-drying, putting on makeup, and all the things she hated doing for other people—she made herself a mental list:

  First, that kiss. It was amazing but ended badly. That’s exactly how the relationship will be too. I know it. My theory is tried and tested, so I will ignore that kiss no matter how much I don’t want to.

  Second, Katie had alluded to Zane being a player. I’m no more than a conquest for him. The longer I say no, the harder he will try. That’s all this is.

  Third, my history with men. That should be enough right there.

  She couldn’t think of more, but those were really big reasons. Repeating them to herself over and over again, like a mantra, she continued to blow-dry her hair.

  Why was she putting so much effort into her appearance? She had no intention of doing anything with him.

  But what if … What if she just let him have her? Then his conquest would be over, he would stop trying, and she could go on to live her life, right?

  But did she want to be just one more in the long list of women who’d had sex with Zane?

  Lettie deflated at the thought and realized she was getting attached to him. She knew if she had to watch Zane with another woman after she’d had sex with him, it wouldn’t be fun. In fact, it would hurt.

  Why did she say yes to the date?

  That’s right. Because he was kissing her silly after driving for hours when the Skype call had blown up.

  He was ridiculously sexy—and he knew it.

  She had to get out of this. There was no way she could say no to sex if he kissed her again. He’d gotten her so horny and left her that way last night. She’d snuck out of his house like a thief in the night, only stopping to stare at him as he slept on his living room floor. Otis had moved to the edge of his crate, as close to Zane as he could get, and they’d both been snoring softly in the darkened room. She didn’t want to remember the feelings of fondness she’d felt as she watched the two of them.

  Biting her lip, she tried to think of an excuse to get out of this date. Zane was going to hurt her, probably without even thinking about it, and she had to stop it before it started.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

  Tugging her robe around her, she went to answer the door and found the devil standing on her doorstep.

  “You’re early,” she said, pointing out the obvious.

  “You were trying to get out of it.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, his jaw gnashing away at the gum in his mouth.

  “Yes, I was.” He strode into her apar
tment and looked around while Lettie pressed her body against the wall. It was a vain attempt to get away from his space, his scent, his body, his very presence. But she could still see him, his massive body taking up precious emptiness in her apartment. It was suddenly full, looking tiny as he stood there, his back to her while he observed the nothingness of her surroundings.

  “Why?” He appeared like he was uninterested in the answer, but when he turned and his gaze finally landed on her, the intensity in his eyes struck her dumb. “Why are you trying to get out of our date?”

  She looked down and fiddled with the belt of her robe. “Because I don’t want to date anybody. You tricked me into this.” She wondered if he could see her lie.

  “Anybody? Or me?” Her eyes still downcast, she saw his feet move closer, one step, then two. In her tiny apartment, that was like crossing half the living room, so she squeezed her eyes shut.

  Finally, she sighed and looked up at him. “You. You’re trouble for me, Zane. I didn’t come here looking for trouble.”

  “Okay, let’s make a deal. Since I’m already here, you go get dressed and let me take you to dinner. I’ve really been looking forward to this all damn day. Since last night, actually.” His eyes took on a pleading look. “Please. I won’t try anything funny.” He held his hand up in a mock Boy Scout salute, and the seriousness in his eyes gave her pause. And then it turned heated, feral almost, and a shiver of something intense ran up her spine. “Unless you want me to. Because,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I can be real funny.”

  Yeah, funny wasn’t the word she was thinking of, but his meaning was perfectly clear.

  Lettie dropped her gaze from him because it was too intense. Looking at her hands helped.

  What harm could one date do? She was a big girl. She could say no to his advances, right?

  “I’m going to regret this,” she mumbled as she turned. “Where are we going? What do I need to wear?”

  “You got a dress?”

  “Uh … yeah.”

  He was dressed up. She hadn’t noticed at first because she’d been trying to ignore the fact he was here, but she peeked out her door and saw he wore black slacks and a black button-down shirt with silver cuff links. With his hair slicked back and his dark looks, he definitely had some danger going on. She was so fucked.

  “Wear it.” His voice was husky, as if he were imagining her in a dress, and she knew he was going to be disappointed.

  “Fine.” She exhaled hard. “Give me ten minutes.” Lettie spun around and stomped to her bedroom like a four-year-old who was forced to get dressed so she could go watch the Iran-Contra Hearings.

  It wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

  Going to her closet, she pulled her jeans and shirts to the side to look at her three dresses.

  One was long and flowy and rather formal. She’d bought it for a fundraiser for the shelter in Gainesville back when her credit cards hadn’t been maxed out. Another was bright-green and something she’d worn to her grandma’s Easter party last year. And the last one was short and black and tight and something she had never worn. Asshole had bought it for her, but she refused to wear it after she’d seen how much it cost. On her credit card.

  Okay. So Zane wanted sexy? Taking a deep breath, she nodded to herself. She forwent more motivating self-talks. They were pointless. She would do this, and hopefully, she would get some great fucking out of it. Then she would be done.

  Zane almost choked on his tongue when Lettie came out of her room. He’d told her to wear a dress, so that’s what he was expecting, but when he saw her, she was so much more.

  He didn’t know where to look first. Her tits looked fantastic, with just the right amount of cleavage to be tasteful but a glimpse of something more. That something more was something he’d imagined more than he cared to admit. And then there were her legs. Holy shit. They went on for miles and looked fabulous in the strappy heels with a band around slim ankles and a jewel on one side.

  The dress was tight and fit her form perfectly.

  Zane was aware he was gawking but couldn’t stop himself. All he could do was stare at her like the present she was, imagining all the ways he could unwrap her.

  And he’d told her he wouldn’t make any moves. He’d basically screwed himself.

  “You’re fucking stunning, Lettie.”

  The blush creeping across her face was gorgeous and drew his eyes back to her tits, which were now covered with a crimson hue. He knew right then and there he would do anything for this woman. She’d knocked him on his ass with just one costume change.

  Holding out his elbow, he offered, “You ready?” He felt inadequate. He hadn’t brought her flowers or candy or anything. Zane had shown up like he would with anyone else, and she’d rendered him speechless.

  He had planned to take her to the fanciest place in town, around the other side of the mountain from the regular haunts. It also had a diner-like place, but he wanted to show off for her—and show her off.

  It was a quiet drive, and he searched for something to say to break the oppressive silence because it wasn’t comfortable. Zane needed her to be comfortable with him; this skittishness between them had to stop. He wanted her and was pretty sure she wanted him. He couldn’t understand what was holding her back from this, but he knew he needed to tread carefully.

  So he talked about the fire department. It seemed like a nice, neutral topic. He talked about a couple pranks they’d played on Hollywood when he first started: Kool-Aid packets in his bunk that dyed his feet various colors, glitter in the air conditioning vents of the truck so he was bombed when he started it. Zane moved on to the fundraising efforts they’d been dealing with because the city bond issue hadn’t passed and they’d been sued at the same time.

  He didn’t talk about the arsons. Those weren’t supposed to be common knowledge, and because the fire investigator hadn’t told them anything, he really didn’t have any facts to convey anyway. Whatever he told her would be construed as gossip, so he held off.

  Soon enough, they were up the mountain.

  “Wait here,” Zane ordered as he got out. A quirked eyebrow and amused uptick of her lips was her only response. She hadn’t talked much at all, actually.

  Zane went around to open her door, and thankfully, she allowed it. He rested his hand on her lower back in a caveman show of possessiveness as they entered the restaurant and didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought about it. Zane didn’t do stuff like this, but whatever.

  They were seated and given menus before the maître d’ left them alone. Lettie’s eyes widened when she opened the menu.

  “Are you serious?” She looked at him like he’d done something wrong, and Zane was a bit confused.

  “Um, yeah. I wanted to take you somewhere nice for helping me with Otis.”

  “You’re paying me to help with Otis. You’re bringing me here to get into my panties.”

  That was a loaded statement. On one hand, the word panties on her lips very nearly undid him. On the other, he was getting the impression she was thinking something totally different than he was, and it sort of made him mad.

  He was mad at himself more than anything. Of course she would think this was just about sex. The whole way he’d gotten her to go on this date with him had been sexual extortion, minimum. But she didn’t know—couldn’t know—how he was feeling right now. Mostly because he didn’t understand it completely himself.

  “Partially true. I am paying you to help me with Otis, but money doesn’t seem like it’s sufficient. I brought you here because I want to impress you. I have the feeling you have the wrong idea of me. Talk to me. What’s going through your head?”

  Lettie took a sip of water before speaking.

  “I heard you were a player. I really don’t want to be just another of your conquests. I feel like I’
m a challenge to you, one you can’t ignore. So, for now, I’m going along with it. But I’m worth more than a fuck, and for some godforsaken reason, I want people to see that.” She looked surprised at her admission. Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “I’m worth a hell of a lot more.”

  Shit yes, she was more than a fuck, but Zane couldn’t tell her how much more. It was too soon in whatever budding relationship they had right now. He didn’t want to be that guy, the one who talked about soulmates and shit on the first date. All he truly knew was they shared something he’d never shared with a woman before. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The whole time he was at his parents’ house for Grandpa’s funeral, he’d been going over each and every interaction they’d had together. He’d made up interactions for them, wondering if she would like his family.

  He’d never had those thoughts about a woman.

  They laughed together. They shared a love for Otis. She saw past his façade, which, if he were honest, was just that: a façade. No other girl had cared to see beyond what he showed them.

  And that kiss.

  Zane reached across the table hoping she would put her hand in his, but she just looked at it. Feeling impotent, he started talking.

  “I can tell you’re worth more. I don’t know how to prove to you that you’re different because I don’t completely understand it myself. That’s why I wanted dinner with you. I wanted to see what was different about you. While the idea of a fuck is making it hard to concentrate on anything else, I made a promise to myself.”

  When have I ever promised myself anything?

  Zane couldn’t remember, but he carried on making his point. “I’m not making a move until you’re on board with it because that’s important to me.” He reached for his water glass but didn’t drink from it, just toyed with the stem, spinning it in circles. “Ask my ‘conquests’ how many of them I brought here. None. I don’t wine and dine and shit.” He lowered his voice. “When I fuck, I fuck.”