Page 98 of To Tango, with Desire

The determined set of her face left me feeling uncomfortable.

“Wow. So that’s Chloe.”

“Yep.”

“She just propositioned you in front of me. I don’t know if that’s ballsy or just plain dumb.” The adrenaline was still pumping through my body. It felt good to finally meet her, to confront her. Had she actually contacted Zane? Was she really trying to reconnect, or had that been the alcohol talking?

“Are you okay?” I turned to Zane and could tell he was trying to remain calm. But something was brewing beneath the surface.

“I’m fine.”

“Did she actually contact you?”

“It’s not our concern anymore. I’ve told you that we’re done. She can contact me a million times, and then a million more. Chloe Barnett is dead to me.” Zane glanced around us, his mouth set in a grim line. “People are watching and I’d rather not give them the time of day.”

I looked around at the curious glances. Of course this would be fodder for those who had known Zane and Chloe, who understood their history.

I tried not to let his curt reply bother me, but I wanted to know how he felt. Hearing her say those things after ten years would have been shocking at the very least. And even though he acted like he didn’t care, seeing her at parties must be uncomfortable.

“Hey, look at me.”

I did and was shocked by what I saw in his eyes.

Zane leaned in close, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Giving that bitch a piece of your mind was the sexiest fucking thing.” His hands gripped my waist, and that electrifying tension between us was back.

I looked at him, searching for clarity. Through my confusion, I realized that Zane was turned on. I could see the desire in those swirling, dark depths, I could hear it in the low timber of his voice.

And I could do nothing else but stutter back, “You’re welcome?” before we were approached by his friend, Sebastian.

I tried my best to focus on the conversation, but I’d been shocked by so many things this evening. Most of all, Zane’s reaction.

I couldn’t wait to get home.

ZANE

“That was some night.” Amira turned to me as we entered the bedroom, and all my attempts at being in control snapped.

I caught her waist, shoving her back against the closed door before feasting. Her surprise soon turned into moans of pleasure. When she wrapped her arms around my neck, I sank into her, taking my fill. Sweet, soft, generous curves. That subtle floral scent. It was driving me wild.

I wanted to pleasure her, to hear her scream. To make her mine, truly mine in a way that I had once before.

This woman. This brave, fearless woman had me by the fucking balls. And I wasn’t sure that I minded it one bit.

So I kissed her, pouring into her all my desire, all my need. It wasn’t soft, wasn’t gentle, but it was so damn real, it left me shaken.

It was hearing what she’d said. The way she’d defended me that had unlocked this ferocious need to claim her. Had Sebastian not approached when he had, I would have carried her over my fucking shoulder and driven us home right then.

It hurt. To want her so badly but not be able to take her.

I enjoyed the mutual satisfaction we’d been giving one another of late, but God help me, it only made me crave her more.

Amira was the most intoxicating woman I’d ever met, and she had a hold on me in a way no other had. Did she know? Could she see it? I’d kept my desire on a leash, but I wanted to bury myself inside of her, to watch her shatter around my cock. I wanted her to want me with the same intensity.

Tonight had unlocked something within me that was alarming.

I wouldn’t think about it. Not now.

Pulling back, I looked at her. Those soft brown eyes were clouded with desire, her lips red from my kisses.