her delectably plump body.
Unable to resist any longer, one arm banded around her waist and locked her in place against him. He devoured her lips, his tongue forging into the sweet cavern of her mouth, as one hand explored her soft curves.
Taking encouragement from the mewling noises she made, he molded the lines of her body with his hands—traveling over her back and hips before coming to rest on her wonderfully fat ass.
He knew better than to get involved with an asset, but there he was, shoving his tongue down her throat and grabbing her like he was tossed at sea and her ass was his lifesaver. With one final squeeze of her butt cheeks, he did the sensible thing and pulled back.
“I think you better go inside,” he rasped.
She fisted her fingers around his tie, and her lips curved into an enticing smile right before she pressed their coolness against his throat. “You have way too much self-control, Vicente,” she whispered.
Suddenly, he hated that name with a passion. He hated the glasses. He hated the wall between them, created by his hidden identity. He wanted her to know him and say his real name, breathing it in that same husky voice she’d just done his fake one.
Her tongue traced up the length of his Adam’s apple, and shivers ran up his spine. He was strong, but he wasn’t a damn robot.
Cruz grabbed the back of her neck with his right hand while the left grabbed a handful of her ass and hauled her tight against his rock-hard erection.
She gasped, eyes going wide.
“On the contrary, it seems I have very little control where you’re concerned.”
His mouth slammed down on hers. Her throat squeaked out a whimper as all her softness was crushed against his hard body. But she gave as good as she got, the sounds of their hungry kisses filling the quiet of the night at her front door. He pressed her against the hard surface and would have done much more if the sound of a car backfiring as it drove by didn’t penetrate the fog of lust.
With deep regret, he tore his mouth away from hers, nostrils flaring, his jaw tightening with the immense effort not to lift her against the door and fuck her till she wept from pleasure.
Shanice whimpered, clinging to him by tightening her arms around his neck.
“I’d better go,” he whispered.
Her chest heaved and her eyes were clouded over with the same desire that raged through his blood. She rested her head against his chest where she could certainly hear his pounding heart.
“Too bad,” she whispered.
Yes, too bad.
“Keys,” Cruz commanded.
She moaned and handed them over.
“Which one?”
“That.” She pointed at the one with a green key cap on top of it.
Rubbing her back, he said, “I want to stay, but it’s best that I go. I have an early work day tomorrow. Don’t you have to work?”
She nodded. “Unfortunately.”
He opened the door and then handed over her keys.
She looked up at him with forlorn eyes.
He chuckled softly. Her unhappiness stroked his ego, but he couldn’t stay. “I had a great time tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”
“All right.” Shanice stepped into the doorway and rested her cheek against the frame as she gazed out at him.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised again.
“You better. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Cruz waited until she shut the door and then went to his car. Inside, he fished a little metal container out of his pocket and opened it. The box contained Blu Tack, a putty-like adhesive he’d pressed her door key into. He’d made a flawless copy, which meant easy access when he came by tomorrow to enter her house.
Cruz snapped the lid closed and stuffed the container back into his pocket. He backed out to the edge of the driveway and paused, eyes lingering on the lighted window at the front. She was upstairs getting ready for bed.
He could be up there with her if…
Cruz stopped himself from going down that road and instead did a quick visual scan of the street. Once again, nothing seemed amiss.
He removed the glasses once he’d driven away from the house and then turned onto the next street. Leaving her had been hard—the hardest thing he’d had to do in a long time.
8
Cruz sat in a rented car at a gas station one hundred feet from the entrance to Shanice’s subdivision. At fifteen minutes to eight, her blue Taurus came out and headed in the direction of the bookstore. She didn’t notice