Falling for the Ghost of You(36)

Zane's eyes narrow dangerously, dark fires burning in their depths. "It's not the same thing."

"Why? Because you're a guy?"

"Because you're seventeen!" he growls. "Fuck! Why are you being like this? Are you trying to get back at me for what happened...that night?"

That really pisses me off! "Maybe I just wanna be with a guy who finishes what he starts," I sneer.

Um. Uh-oh.

Just now I realize I am the little kid poking the tiger with a stick, one time too many. There is definitely a predatory gleam in Zane's eyes right now as he stalks toward me.

I back up, but I'm not afraid. Agitated, and that weird combination of excitement and...need, whenever I'm around him. But not afraid.

Well, maybe a little.

Zane traps me against the counter, leaning into to me so that we're touching from our chests to our knees. I gasp at the contact. God, the feel of his heat against me! Something primal in me roars with greed. I can feel his heart racing with mine, we're both breathing fast and hard. I inhale his amazing Zane scent, so sexy and utterly masculine, turning my insides to warm melting chocolate.

"So, you want me to finish what I started, huh?" His voice is low and rough when he talks.

Zane places one big hand on my hip and pulls me against his body, and I gasp again. Holy crap, he is so...hard...everywhere. In my head, I give a maidenly scream.

"Um," I say nervously, trying desperately to remain absolutely still, and not wiggle against him! "I don't know what..."

Zane searches my face, seeming to silently ask a question I have no idea how to answer. His mouth is inches from mine. If he would just lower his head a bit, we could be kissing instead of fighting.

But, no. He gives a small sigh and backs away. He runs both hands through his short dark hair, turning away. "That night was a mistake," he mutters.

Grrr!

"What was a mistake? Getting me almost naked in the pool, and whispering dirty nothings in my ear, and then acting like I've got the plague?!" Furious, I shove against him with both hands. "You can't just play games with me like that! I thought that I—I thought we were friends. And now...you can't even stand to be around me! You're—you're such an asshole!"

"I know!" Zane yells back at me. "And you’ve been making me suffer for it every god damn day."

I glare at him. "Oh, really?! How exactly are you suffering?!"

"You know how." He smiles grimly. "You've been parading around in those hot little outfits, brushing past me...teasing the hell out of me. You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, flushing to the roots of my hair.

"Yes, you do," he says, and reaches over to tug on my skirt. "What about that stunt you pulled in my room, 'forgetting your clothes?'"

That makes me cringe in embarrassment. I knew it was too obvious and skanky. "I did forget them," I say weakly.

“Right. Shit.” Zane laughs, and shakes his head. "Who would've thought a little girl like you would have me so fucked up, I can't think straight?"

I'm stung at the "little girl" comment. "You being fucked up has nothing to do with me," I say coldly.

He suddenly grins. "Language, Miss Mercer."

"Oh, screw you, O' Connor!" I give him the finger.

"Yeah, I'd take you up on that offer if I didn't think you'd run screaming in the opposite direction."

I stomp up to him and poke him in the chest. “Uh-huh, you always accuse me of being the scared one, but it’s always you doing the running.”

Zane looks down at me, anger once again darkening his features. “I’m trying to protect you, Violet,” he growls.

I poke him again. “And I told you, I can take care of myself—”

Zane suddenly steps closer, cupping my face with his hands, and effectively cutting me off mid-sentence. His head lowers, and then his mouth is on mine.

Everything else spins away. The strong smell of the meatballs and sauce burning on the stove is replaced with Zane’s purely male scent. I am consumed by it, consumed by him. We are the only two that exists in this one moment, unaffected by time or reason.

We kiss frantically, half-crazed with need. He pulls back a little, changes the pressure of his lips on mine. Our tongues touch. I moan helplessly, locking my arms around his neck, and trying to climb him like a tree. Zane helps me out by lifting me up by gripping the back of my thighs. We slam into the counter, he sets me on top of it, and distantly I am aware of crashing sounds.

I’m burning from the inside, a burning ache that causes me to move restlessly against him. I can’t get close enough!