heat of his gaze. Lifting her head, she found him staring at her.
More pointedly, at the bandage on her chest. “What . . . ?” Something fired in his eyes. That storm again.
She cleared her throat and reached for the edge of the dressing. It had been long enough, if she remembered right. But when she went to peel it back, Zach was already doing it. “You had me written on your skin all this time . . . I decided I was going to do the same.”
His lashes lay low over his eyes.
“I didn’t want you doing this one. I . . .” She swallowed and went to touch it, but he caught her hand, guiding it back down. Nervous, she babbled on. “I needed it on me when I came to see you. You’ve been here, right in front of me, all along. And part of me knew, damn it. I knew, but I didn’t let myself see it. You didn’t let it show, but I didn’t let myself see and now I’m—”
His mouth crushed against hers.
The words died in her throat and anything, everything else she might have died in her throat under the impact of that kiss. If the last one had been soft, sweet, and gentle, this was the opposite. Stealing the very breath out of her and burning her from the inside out. His hand tangled in her hair as he wrestled them away from the desk. She stumbled and fell against him and he caught her, twisting them so that when they went down, it was into the fat leather chair dominating the corner between his desk and file cabinet.
He used it for when he was having nervous clients that he needed to talk down.
He figured it had just about enough room for what he needed to do with Abby.
She had a pretty little heart tattoo on her right breast. It was delicate and sweet, with the word Zach etched inside it. There wasn’t any color and that was just fine. It had his name in it . . . she’d written him on her skin, just the way he’d done with her all those years ago.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, he urged her up so that she was sitting astride him. “Unzip me,” he demanded, staring into her eyes.
She swallowed and then eased away.
He caught her hips, reluctant to let her go.
A smile curved her lips. “Zach . . . I need to move a little. This works better if I’m not sitting right on top of you.”
He groaned and let go. Resting his hands on the armrest of the chair, he busied himself staring at the tattoo. That pretty little heart . . . then he hissed as he felt the back of her hand brush against his cock. She took her time and when she finally had his fly open, he was digging his fingers into the leather just to keep from reaching for her.
* * *
Abigale traced her fingers over the thick ridge of his cock and smiled as it leaped against her touch. Gray cotton covered him and she smiled at him as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his shorts, dragging them down with a wicked glint in her eyes.
Dragging them down slowly . . .
Swearing, he shoved them down and reached for her, hauling her into his lap and crushing her laughing mouth to his. He guided her legs down on either side of his hips.
“What’s your hurry?”
“Seventeen years worth of hunger.” He tucked the head of his cock against her entrance and stared up at her as he drove straight home.
Her back arched and she bit her lip to stifle a ragged cry.
He wanted to hear her moan, wanted to hear each broken sigh as he fucked her. Instead, he rocked against her a second time, a third time, as he stroked his hand up her middle and circled the tattoo on her breast with his finger. He didn’t touch it . . . the new ink needed time to heal before anybody else went messing with it but damn it, he wanted to press his mouth to that mark.
“I love you,” he rasped, reaching up to tangle his hand in her hair and tug her down. “Damn it, do you hear me? I love you.”
She pressed her mouth to his, her elbows braced against his chest. “I hear you.” She whispered it against his lips, her gaze locked with his. “I