“I don’t need much space,” she whispered and licked her lower lip. “We only need one bed. As long as you have that …”
Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. Zane dropped the bags and crossed the distance between them with two large strides, stopping only inches from her. “Go inside now, Portia, and do me a favor: don’t mention words like ‘bed’ until we’re inside the house or your first time will happen right here in this garage with your back against the car.”
He kept all menace out of his voice, but he couldn’t suppress the lust that coursed through him. It made him sound hoarse. During the entire drive he’d fought with himself, fought against the need to stop the car and pull her onto the back seat to take her right there and then. Because now that he’d made up his mind to make love to Portia, he couldn’t wait a minute longer.
Her lashes crashed against her eyelids as she raised them in one smooth move. “Don’t make me wait.” Then she turned and ushered the dog through the door to the interior.
Wait? That word had just been expelled from his vocabulary and been replaced by the only possible replacement: now. Zane’s heart beat a violent staccato against his ribcage, and his cock, which had been semi-hard during the entire ride, surged to a full erection.
Picking up the bags once more, he charged after her. Inside, he dropped the luggage onto the floor and straightened. As always, a sense of tranquility poured over him when he entered the great room of his cabin. The vaulted ceiling and its wooden beams added an air of space to the small house, belying its size of less than a thousand square feet. The décor was rustic and not something he’d first thought he’d like, but it had grown on him.
“There’s a fire in the fireplace,” Portia noted, her voice tinged with a sliver of alarm. “Is somebody living here?”
Zane shook his head. “I texted my caretaker before I picked you up to prepare the place for us. Check the fridge. It should be stocked with human food for you.” He would have to go out hunting for blood later, unless … He quickly pushed away the thought before it could form in his mind. One thing at a time: first sex, then maybe later he could—
“The fridge is chock-full with food. Who does your caretaker think I am? A three hundred pound gorilla?” She laughed and turned to him, her hair falling in her face.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I had him get a bit of everything.”
It was so much easier with blood. There were only eight varietals, four positive and four negative. And he liked them all.
“That’s sweet of you.”
Sweet? Nobody had ever said that anything he’d ever done was sweet. Slowly, but with purpose Zane walked toward her and noticed how she stood completely motionless with only her eyes moving as he approached. He stopped a foot away from her and reached for the strand of hair that had caught on her cheek, brushing it away from her face.
“Don’t make the mistake of seeing me for something that I’m not. I don’t have a sweet or gentle bone in my body, and if that’s what you’re looking for, I should take you back now.”
As soon as the words were out, he knew that if she wanted to leave, he couldn’t allow it. She was in his secret lair, and the only way she would leave this place was as a real woman, her virginity a memory.
Portia raised her hand and slid it to the back of his neck, shaking her head as if to reprimand him. “Don’t even think about it.”
He liked that about her: she never backed down from a challenge.
“You could have chosen anybody you wanted. Why me, baby girl?”
Did she not know how desirable she was, that any man with eyes in his head would see the passionate woman that was ready to burst to the surface?
She leaned closer, her mouth hovering opposite his. “Because when you kiss me, I feel something.”
With her free hand, she took his and led it to her chest where her heart beat in a rapid rhythm.
“Here.” She pressed his hand against her heart, then pushed it lower past the waistband of her jeans before he could enjoy the softness of her flesh. But she rewarded him by guiding his hand to cup her sex.
Raising her lids, Portia gazed into his eyes. “And here.”
Warmth radiated into his palm as he pressed against her pussy, any closer contact impeded by the thick fabric of her pants. Nevertheless, his cock rejoiced.
He groaned, unable to hold back the lust that barreled through him. “Since we’re honest here,” he husked and drank in the green of her eyes, “I think you should know where I feel something when you kiss me.”