Rhythm of My Heart

“Ah. So you want me for security.”

He eyed her petite form. “Yeah, Tiny. One ominous glare from you, and you’ll send the crowds packing.”

“Tiny?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if the name fits…”

“That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Well, short-shit came to mind, but I figured you’d like that as much as you like secondhand roses.”

“Uh, yeah. You figured right.”

“So Tiny it is.”

She pointed a thumb at her chest. “I might be short, but I bet I could eat you under the table.”

“I thought the expression was ‘drink you under the table’?”

“I don’t drink.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. Now let’s get you some food before you pass out. Or worse, attack my flower.”

Zachary didn’t budge, but he did give her his best smile. “I’d like to see you eat me under the table.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Am I picking up on hidden innuendo, Mr. Speed?”

Bam.

There it was again. The jolt of lust that smacked him in the chest.

“No, Tiny. When you eat me, we won’t be anywhere near a table.”

“When?” This time she snorted, as if the idea were hilarious.

“Hey, a man can always hope.” Damn, knocked back again. Eve Andrews was not good for his ego. Not good at all. Yet Zachary couldn’t deny he was enjoying her company immensely.

“Hope for a dessert table then,” Eve said. “I need sugar. Do you think there’s chocolate mousse?”

Zachary curled his upper lip. “God, I hope not.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and urged her towards the other side of the room, where the food had been set out.

“You don’t like chocolate mousse?” She looked horrified.

He let his hand drift down until it rested on her lower back. He left it there, liking how she felt, liking how the rise of her ass pressed against his palm. He’d like to press his lips to it too. And his cock. “I don’t like chocolate, period.”

“What? How can anyone not like chocolate?”

“It’s too sweet and too rich. Plus it gets stuck on the roof of your mouth, and the only way to wash it away is with a good swallow of beer.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “At least now I understand why you think I’m beautiful. Your taste sucks great big dingo balls.”

His jaw dropped. “My taste what?”

“Sucks. You have poor taste in food and drink. It’s obvious.”

“Dingo balls?”

“It’s an expression.”

“Strange expression.”

“Strange taste.”

“Good taste,” he amended. “And you are beautiful.”

“Chocolate’s beautiful. Here, I’ll prove it.” They’d reached the table, and Eve made a beeline for the assortment of desserts. She scanned the plates and helped herself to a saucer, which she loaded with chocolate truffles. “No mousse,” she said, regret evident in her tone. “But open up and try one of these.” She held a chocolate truffle to his mouth.

“Tempted as I am…no thanks.” The temptation had nothing to do with the candy, and everything to do with the hand it rested in.

“You’re not even going to try it?”

“Not even.”

“But…but it’s delicious.”

“So you eat it.”

“You won’t have even a bite?”

“Not even a nibble.” Unless it had all melted on her fingers, and then he doubted he’d stop at a nibble.

“You’re nuts.”

“I eat nuts, just not chocolate.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I suspect you may not be fully human.”

He half suspected she was right, especially considering the animalistic way his body responded to her presence. She had him starved for a taste…of Eve. The chocolate may not appeal, but he could tuck into her with zest. “I suspect that chocolate is about to disappear into your mouth.”

“I suspect you’re right.” Her eyes twinkled and she popped the chocolate between her lips.

She didn’t chew it. Not immediately. Rather she left it in her mouth. To melt?

Zachary had no idea. All he knew was now that the candy was in her mouth, he couldn’t avert his gaze.

Again he stared at her, bewitched.

Her eyes closed and she let out a soft moan of pleasure.

“Good?”

Eve’s “Mmmmm” reverberated down his spine and echoed in his groin.

How the fuck could eating chocolate turn into the most erotic encounter on earth? Eve made it look like she was lost in the throes of spectacular sex. The woman had a chocolate in her mouth, that was all. Yet the bliss on her face and satisfaction in her soft moan had Zachary hardening to the point of pain.

Christ, he hoped no one noticed.

She chewed, her red lips a beacon to his gaze.

He wanted to kiss her, wanted to mold his mouth to hers and taste the pleasure on her breath.

Yeah. Not going to happen. Not here, in a room packed full of curious eyes and cameras.

“If you carry on chewing like that—” Zachary’s voice was a low growl, “—like you’re about to have an orgasm, I am going to throw you under the table and eat every last bit of you.”

Eve’s eyes popped open, and she swallowed quickly. “You know it would be way simpler if you just ate the truffle?”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t taste half as good.”

“You know what you are, Jonah Speed?”

Aroused? Frustrated? Horny? “What am I, Eve Andrews?”

“A first-rate, grade-A flirt.” She lifted a second truffle to her mouth and licked it. Those cherry-red lips of hers framed the milk chocolate, and her tongue was just visible, dabbing at the treat.

The roomful of curious eyes and cameras faded to insignificance. Sound faded too. The chocolate and Eve’s lips were his sole focus. His sole desire.

With one hand, he plucked the saucer from her hand and set it on the table. With the other he plucked her hand from her mouth and tossed the half-eaten chocolate over his shoulder.

Before she had a chance to object—and by the look in her eyes she intended to object, vehemently—he yanked her against him, bent his head and kissed her.

Just claimed her mouth with his, taking advantage of her surprised gasp to slip his tongue between those cherry-red lips and sample the chocolate she’d just licked.

Jesus, fuck. She was right. The chocolate wasn’t just good. It was delectable. Mouthwatering. It blew his mind. And he hated chocolate.

Eve sagged in his arms, as though she’d turned boneless. He hauled her closer, molding her to his body, squashing the rose between them. Her soft curves pressed tight against his firmer bulk. She clutched at him with one hand, grabbing his arm, squeezing it, then slowly letting her hand skim up over his shoulder until she buried it in his hair.

Her tongue drifted over his, toyed with it. Tasted him like he tasted her. And damned if it wasn’t the