Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,247

for itself. That doesn’t mean anything. The breeze could blow the right way and I could get hard.”

For an instant, self-doubt swept through her. Had she read him wrong, after all? She began to move away, but his hand grabbed hers before she could. In seconds, he’d stood so fast he knocked over his chair. He grabbed her wrists, both of them, hard enough to hurt, and she gasped. Then she found herself flat on her back on the table with Zane Vincent on top of her.

He nudged himself between her legs. His hardness pressed against her. She knew better than to struggle.

“Two can play this game, Kendall. And let me just see what you’ve been flashing me.”

His hands were so large he could easily hold both her wrists with one of them. He used the other to reach down beneath her skirt, up her thigh, to touch her through the damp silk of her panties. His thumb rubbed across the mound of her aroused clitoris, and a sigh hissed out from between her teeth. His face switched from cocky assurance to stunned lust as he slipped one finger beneath the lacy edge of her panties.

“You’re so wet.” His deep voice caught on the words.

She had to move her hips against his questing hand. She couldn’t help it. His touch felt so good. He slid a finger completely inside her. Kendall let out a small cry and closed her eyes at the look of burning sensuality on his face. His thumb pressed her clit while his finger slid in and out—just the tip, when she wanted the entire length.

“Kendall, do you want me?”

She bit her lip and refused to answer.

He slid his finger in deeper and caressed her clitoris gently. “Look at me.”

Against her will, her eyes opened. His face was open and honest, his eyes searching hers. “Do you want me?”

She nodded, still unwilling to try to speak for fear she wouldn’t be able to.

“Then say it.”

She opened her mouth, aware he was using her ploy against her, but willing to do anything so long as he kept stroking her that way.

“I want you.”

“Say my name.”

“Vincent, I want you.”

“No, Kendall. Say my first name.” He slid in, then out. His fingers pinched her wrists above her head.

“Zane,” she managed to say. “Zane, I want you.”

“Say please,” he whispered as he bent to nuzzle her neck. “Say Zane, please make love to me.”

She gave him the words he wanted and cried aloud again as he withdrew his fingers. Then he let go of her wrists to slide down his pants and, in mere seconds, he was on top of her, his cock sliding inside her with no resistance and his mouth crushing down on hers.

She came almost instantly, with a rising crescendo of sensation that splintered her to pieces. She moaned his name into his mouth. Her arms slid around his back to guide him to her.

“Kendall,” came his whisper in her ear.

She came again, hard on the heels of the first one, which she’d never done before with any man. Just after that, she felt him tense, and he thrust into her one more time. He cried out his release, and the sound triggered a third, milder burst of contractions that had her gasping.

They lay there for a time, just breathing. She’d been right about one thing. He did engulf her.

He lifted himself up on his elbows. His tawny cheeks were flushed. He bent and kissed her, softer this time, but with no less heat. When he pulled away, he took her hand to help her sit up.

She felt sticky and sweaty, but also completely fulfilled. “Wow.”

“Don’t tell me you faked it.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Hell, no.”

“Good. Me neither.”

He ducked too fast for her to swat him.

Chapter 8

He slipped out of bed early in the morning, and she felt an instant sense of loss. She pretended to stay asleep until the door clicked shut quietly behind him, and then she rolled onto her back to stare, wide-eyed, at the ceiling. He hadn’t said goodbye.

Kendall sighed and didn’t even try to fight the slow rise of disappointment. He’d snuck off like a guilty thief. Without so much as leaving a note. So much for not being interested in one-night stands.

There was no more use staying in bed, though the sun was barely up and she was still dead tired. The pillow and sheets smelled of him and of their lovemaking—there could be no more sleep for her until