started to rock against him, he added a second finger and started to rotate his wrist, screwing them in and out of the sweet, slick well and listening as she cried out.
“That’s it, sugar,” he muttered, watching her face, watching as her eyes took on that dazed, lost look, watching as a flush spread up her neck, across her breasts. “Come again. I want to see it, I want to feel it . . .”
She gave him all of that and more. And when she sagged against him as it ended, she wrapped her arms around him and let him carry her back to the bed.
Chapter Seven
“You never answered me.”
Abigale lay sprawled on her belly, her head on Zach’s chest, and for once, her brain was a dazed, blissful blank. “Huh?”
She looked up to see him watching her. The smile on his face was one that made her heart flip over in her chest, for the oddest damn reasons. It wasn’t that wicked grin, and it wasn’t the mischievous one, either. She loved both of those, but this was a smile that was a little more rare from him and it was one that had always melted her heart.
It was almost the same smile she’d seen on his face when she saw him holding his baby nephew for the first time. A lot of pleasure, mixed with awe . . . but this was different, because he was looking at her, a grown woman and there was something possessive in his gaze, too. She couldn’t quite define it, but having him look at her like that was doing bad, bad things to her.
“You didn’t answer me,” he said again, reaching up to brush her hair back.
She caught his hand to distract herself. Her brain had just realigned with her body and she knew what he was talking about. And everything in her screamed . . . Stall! So she did. The brilliant red burn along the back of his hand had her wincing in sympathy. And sure enough, it was starting to blister in a few places. “We should be more careful.”
Zach grunted and tugged his hand away. “It’s fine. I’ve gotten worse helping my brother on his bike.” Then he grimaced and wiggled his fingers. “Granted, it’s usually not as big as this but still.” He stretched his arm over his head and focused back on her face. “You’re still avoiding the question.”
“No.” She wrinkled her nose and sat up, heaving out a sigh. “I’m actually trying to figure out the right answer. I . . . damn it, Zach, you went and got in the way of a good plan, you know that?”
“And how did I do that?”
She closed her eyes. There was no getting around this. She either had to come clean and explain about the journal or just screw the idea entirely. But he might be mad . . .
“Fuck it.” She shoved up off the bed and walked over to the little secretary where she kept her journal. As of a few weeks ago, her pretty little leather-bound journal had picked up a partner, the paperback one titled Wreck This Journal. “By the way, just so you know ahead of time, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t bought me this goofy journal. So keep that in mind if you get mad at me when I go to explain all of this.”
She turned around to see him pushing up onto his elbow, gold-streaked brown hair falling around his face, blue eyes locked on her face, and that long, lean body showcased in jeans and a black t-shirt. Once more, she found her gaze drawn to the tattoos twining around his arms and she wanted to go to him, kneel down by him, and just spend hours learning his body.
“Be mad about what?” he asked, lifting a brow at her and drawing her attention back to the matter at hand.
A conversation.
They were having a conversation. Right?
Tapping the journal against her palm, she sighed. “My new plan.”
“Why would I be mad about your new plan?”
It wasn’t so easy to force the words out now. Wasn’t so easy at all . . . a knot the size of baseball lodged in her throat and she could feel her breath coming in harsh little bursts as she stared at him. “I . . .” She stopped and licked her lips. “I—shit.”
She covered her eyes with one hand and tried to find the words. “Look, damn it, I wasn’t planning