hear you, Zach . . . I see you. And I love you. I want you . . . more than I want my next breath.”
Love and desire ripped through him, so desperate and raw and wild, he didn’t know if he could stand it. Twisting his hips, he drove deep inside her, hard, fast. She gasped and when he saw her mouth falling open, he caught her lips with his, swallowing the scream down.
Later, he thought dimly. Later, he’d take her home. To her place. To his. It didn’t matter. Someplace where they were alone and he could make her sigh, make her moan, as he made love to her all night. While he told her that he loved her as often as he wanted.
For now, he focused on working her body into a burning frenzy, which wasn’t hard. She was so hot, burning against him and whimpering into his mouth, her fingers digging into his skin while she swiveled her hips against his, hard and fast.
Faster . . .
Faster . . .
She broke over him with a ragged, breathless scream and when she tore her mouth away to breathe, he buried his face against her neck and let go.
The climax ripped through him, almost painful in its intensity.
And for once, the ache in his heart wasn’t so raw and empty.
He held her as she shuddered and gasped for air. And he felt complete.
Chapter Twenty-three
Glumly, Abigale stared at the door as Zach zipped her dress back up. “What are the odds that nobody heard us?” she asked.
He was silent long enough that she paused to look back over her shoulder at him.
Strong, warm arms came around her waist and tugged her back against him. He’d already pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it, shoved a hand through his hair. He looked just fine, she’d noticed. And she’d seen a glimpse of herself in the mirror he kept on hand for clients. She looked . . . well. She looked like a woman who’d just spent the past few minutes having sex in a chair.
Her dress was wrinkled, her hair was tangled around her shoulders, and her lipstick—supposedly kiss-proof—wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He skimmed a hand down her arm and rubbed his cheek against hers before he answered honestly, “Slim to none.”
As the hot rush of blood leaped to her cheeks, she groaned and dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “Damn.”
“We could stay in here until after closing time,” he offered, pressing a hand to her belly. “I can think of a good way to pass the time.”
She slanted a dark look at him. “This place just got broken into not that long ago. A few days, remember?”
“Yeah. I still got the bumps and bruises to show for it.” He sighed and eased away. “And you’re right. I’m not keeping you here after the shop closes up. So we go out now. Face the music.”
Groaning, she held out her hand.
He caught it in his and then, abruptly, swooped down and stole a kiss. “I bet you didn’t see this coming when you were writing in that new journal, did you?”
“No.” She laughed a little and then looked around, spying her bag. She caught the strap in her hand and hefted it up on her shoulder. She slid a hand into the side pocket, pulling the silly little green journal out. “I had a plan to wreck my life. And then you go around and totally remake it.”
He hugged her against him and then, before they could get distracted, they left the office.
Abigale was still blushing as they moved through the main part of the shop. It was empty, save for Javi. He slid them a wicked grin. “Hey, Abby. Zach.” His black brows arched over dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Javi.” Zach glanced around. “Where is everybody else at?”
“We wrapped up the last customer forty-five minutes ago.” Javi slid Abigale a look and added, “When Abby came in, I decided to flip the sign to ‘closed.’ Keelie is . . .” He frowned and glanced around.
“Right here.”
Abigale and Zach turned.
Keelie stood in the hallway, head bowed as she tugged a pair of earbuds out. The music was still blaring from them and she took a second to turn the volume down before she looked up. Her mismatched eyes glanced at Zach but her gaze met Abigale’s and held it. “Abby,” Keelie said quietly.