He rubbed himself against her as he slid a hand down her belly. His fingers found her through the thin lace of her thong, gliding into damp heat. He pushed the lace to one side and felt the smooth slide of his fingers on slick, hairless skin.
Zoe waxed.
Of course she did.
She felt swollen and juicy against his fingers, so slippery and hot he couldn’t wait another second. She was ahead of him, her hands dragging at the stud on his jeans, pulling his fly down. He groaned low in the back of his throat as she stroked a knowing hand up and down his shaft. He pressed forward, wanting inside her. His whole body tensed as the sensitive head of his erection encountered her slick heat.
“Wait,” she said, her voice a low husk.
He heard the crinkle of foil, then she was sliding protection onto him with expert hands. No sooner had she smoothed the latex to the base of his shaft than he was thrusting forward. Tight heat engulfed him. She let out a surprised moan as he gave her his all. Then he lost all sense of place and time as he pounded into her.
Her legs came up to lock around his waist. Her head dropped back on her neck. Her body shuddered with the impact of each stroke and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle a cry. He leaned forward and pulled a nipple into his mouth, stroking her with his tongue even as he stroked her with his cock. He bit her, savoring the jerk of her hips and the tight throb of her inner muscles around him.
Again and again he drove into her until he had to slide his hands onto her butt so he could go deeper, harder. Her back arched and her fingernails dug into his backside. Her mouth fell open as she shuddered around him, a look of pleasurable pain contorting her face as she came and came. Then his own orgasm hit him like a fist, driving the air from his lungs as he ground himself into her. For long seconds he shuddered out his release, every muscle hard as steel.
Then he was still inside her but the urgency was gone. He could feel her breath against his neck, her hands gripping his butt. A trickle of sweat ran down his side. He registered the distant, muffled sound of music from the club.
His heart was thundering in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Because he’d just lost it, big-time.
Zoe’s body began to tremble against his and he drew back so he could look into her face. She was laughing silently, shaking her head from side to side.
“I guess I should thank you,” she said. “You said I would, one day. It might just have been worth waiting twelve years, after all.”
He slid free from her and turned away to take care of the condom, wrapping it and throwing it in the waste bin. The small piece of business gave him an excuse not to look at her. There was something so desolate in her eyes, so empty and sad that it made him want to punch something.
He slid his zipper closed and buttoned his jeans. Zoe pulled her bra back up, then started to unclip her stockings from her red garters.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said.
“Neither did I, believe it or not. But it turned out to be a pretty good idea, don’t you think?”
She rolled her stockings down her legs and toed off her stilettos.
He looked away when she slid her thong down, forcing his gaze from the narrow strip of hair between her thighs. She was bare between them, he knew now. Smooth and so damned hot she’d blown his mind.
She stepped into a clean pair of panties then reached for her jeans.
“Can we go somewhere? To talk?” he asked as she dragged them on and tightened the leather laces that held them closed.
“I told you, I don’t want or need your help, Liam. You just gave me all I’ll ever want from you.”
Her gaze was steady as she pulled on her tank top.
She meant it. Which left him with nowhere to go, nothing to offer.
“How long have you been singing?” he asked. Mostly because he figured it was a neutral question and he needed to buy time to get his head together.
“Five years now. Three years as Vixen. She makes it a lot more fun.”
She moved to stand in front of the mirror, reaching for a tub of face cream. Her gaze found his in the mirror.
“What about you, Mr. Do-Gooder. What do you do for a crust?”
“I build custom motorbikes. Mostly choppers.”
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and smoothed cream over her face, closing her eyes as she cleansed her eye makeup.
“Figures. You were always fiddling in the garage, tinkering with something or other.”
She wiped her face with a tissue. Pink skin replaced black and white. When she opened her eyes again he found himself looking at the old Zoe, the girl he’d known so long ago. No heavy kohl, no mask of makeup—just naturally long lashes and clear green eyes and pale skin.
She reached for a mascara tube and his hand shot out.
“No.”
“She frowned. “Sorry?”
“You look better without it.”
She shook him off and leaned forward to stroke on fresh mascara.
“I think you’d better go. Thanks for looking me up. It was…interesting,” she said, her eyes never leaving her own reflection.
He stared at her in the mirror, and she finally looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.
“What? You want more? Okay, thanks for the sex. You rocked my world more than anyone has in a long time. Happy?”
Not by a long shot, but he was beginning to realize that there was no way he was going to get through her defenses tonight. She’d bite her tongue off before she asked for help.
Without another word he turned for the door. He heard her close it behind him as he walked down the corridor. He walked out into rain and an overwhelming sense of guilt.
He’d stood against the bar tonight watching the men around him wanting her, and he’d wanted to hurt every single one of them. Then he’d gone backstage and hammered himself into her as though she really was nothing more than a hot body.
He spat in the gutter but it didn’t take away the bad taste in his mouth.
He’d lost control. She’d gone out of her way to provoke him, sure, but it was no excuse. He revved the Mustang hard and left rubber on the road as he pulled into the street. He’d wanted to help her, and instead he’d let his cock do the thinking.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
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