“Seriously? From what it sounds like, you’ve been brave enough to live the adventure most people only dream about. You wanted to paint, so you made it happen, and you’re making a career out of it. Yeah, you’ve been engaged, but you didn’t settle when it wasn’t right. You’re what, thirty? There’s no rush to have kids, if you decide you want them. If you don’t want all that, there’s nothing wrong with choosing the path that appeals, even if it’s not white picket fences and two-point-five children.”
“You sound like an inveterate singleton,” she nudged him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“Maybe.”
A wicked grin blossoming on her lips, she shifted onto his lap and pressed against him, her hand cradling the back of his neck. “I’m not opposed to all that, but not with someone like you.” Pressing her lips to his, she sighed against his mouth. “I don’t have the capacity for guys like you anymore.”
Scowling, pulled back. “Guys like me?”
Nodding, she tugged him closer and kissed him again. He shouldn’t have kissed her back, but he did. Hell, before Freya, he hadn’t indulged in so long, and he was rapidly losing the will to resist.
Between teasing kisses, she whispered against his mouth, “Full of pheromones and muscles and broodiness and…” Despite the mere inches between them, she moved closer until her breasts were tight against him. Nipping his lip, she pressed her mouth against his, parting and tracing her tongue over his in a delicious torment.
Sliding his hand up her thigh, he groaned against her mouth, indulging, deepening the kiss. Breathless as he managed to pull away to form a coherent thought, he said, “I don’t have a fucking clue what I want. But I know taking this any further won’t help either of us.”
Her lips downright succulent after kissing his brains out, yet again, she tugged her lower lip between her teeth and looked at him like she was ready to have her way with him until he couldn’t remember his own name.
Foolishly, in complete contrast to his words, he kissed her again. When she whimpered a sweet moan, his hand glided up her skin under her shirt, migrating toward those spectacular breasts.
Growling against his mouth, she pulled his lower lip between her teeth, then sucked his tongue in a devastating foreshadowing of everything else that mouth could do.
Gripping her breast in his hand, his other followed until he cupped both under the thin layer of cotton, teasing his thumbs over her taut nipples. Moaning as if halfway to the moon in response, she tightened her legs around him and leaned into his touch. Leaving her lips for the first time since they’d landed on the bench, he trailed kisses along the sharp line of her jaw, gliding his tongue over her neck.
Freya’s phone buzzed from her pocket, a bucket of ice crashing over them.
What the fuck was he doing? Pulling his hands free, he cleared his throat and detached.
“Hello?” she asked as she slipped off of him, puzzled at the unknown number, but equally grateful for the distraction. He glared at his watch. It was nearly nine o'clock, who would be calling at this hour?
Zane didn’t bother not eavesdropping.
“Hi, Freya?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Seth. Seth Lawless. Sorry to be calling so late, I guess I didn’t realize what time it is. Anyway, I uh, oddly enough, your mother gave my mother your number and apparently they are conspiring to hook us up.”
Zane heard the amused chuckle on the other end mirroring Freya’s. Hook up? Jackass. Not that Zane was one to talk. He’d been a few thin layers of cotton away from turning his only friend’s drunk cousin into a thirty second hook-up, if he lasted that long.
Rubbing his eyes, he leaned back against the bench and kicked his own mental ass. He’d been the jackass, all over the tipsy siren without any meaningful intention of stopping.
She didn’t seem to notice his internal beratement. “It’s been a long time. I’ve been home for a week, and my mother is already trying to set me up.”
More friendly laughing. Zane wanted to rip the phone away and chuck it over the hillside. Gritting his teeth together, he reminded himself this was a good thing.
“Oh my god, me too. I’ve been back a month, and my mother has my whole future plotted out.”
Grinning wide, Freya relaxed against his side. Whole new level of weird; Zane’s brain was going to fissure in half, undecided if he was going to stake his claim or dodge the bullet, neither side seeming to convince the other.
Freya continued her conversation with the creep that was clearly looking for a way into her pants, “My mother both jumped for joy and plugged her ears when I told her we’d already been down that road.”
“You never told her we had a thing? Hell, I was grinning like an idiot for the next week after we lost our virginity together. My parents finally pinned me down and I had to confess I’d made it with a woman.”
Freya’s laugh sparkled as she continued to lean against Zane. Okay, he needed to get the hell out of here. He was relieved she wasn’t a virgin, but really didn’t want details.
Closing his eyes, he let himself pretend for precisely five seconds that he was the one making her laugh so lightheartedly. And three, two, one. He jumped to his feet and mouthed, “Goodnight.” Their make-out had sobered her up enough; she’d be okay.
Biting her lip, she nodded. “That sounds great,” she answered Seth. “I can do Friday night.”
Rip off the damn band-aid now. Two fucking years since he’d been with anyone. Hell, he was going on
