Falling For The Ghost Of You Part 12

The silence yawns between us, growing until it becomes a living thing that fills the room, robbing us of our voices, and turning us to stone.

My eyes suddenly snag on my reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet doors. I search for Zane's image, and my gaze catches his and holds. We stare at each other through the mirror for seconds that feel like a lifetime.

I am utterly blown away by the sudden certainty that if he turns around, or if I were to go to him-touch the smooth curves of his back like I so badly wanted to-I would be spending the night in his bed. That dark tortured look he's giving me right now silently promises that.

Do I want that? I don't know. I want him. G.o.d, do I want him. But what do I know about s.e.x? I'm just a seventeen year old virgin who doesn't know how to kiss right.

Finally, Zane tears his gaze away from mine, back to his laptop. His voice is rough and strained when he mutters, "Get dressed."

Only he can turn me on and p.i.s.s me off at the same time. Who does he think he is?! Half-naked here, and looking d.a.m.n good, if I have to say so myself (obviously I do). Will he be able to maintain his indifference if I "accidentally" drop my towel right now?

I don't, out of fear that yes, Zane would take one look at my naked body, shrug, and turn around again. Also, I would never actually do something like that. This goes way beyond my expertise. h.e.l.l, Matt-my first and only boyfriend-never even got my shirt all the way off. Zane is a man, and I know for a fact that he's gotten more than a few girls-women's-shirts off. And more.

I am way out of my depth here. Still, I can't leave him with the last word.

"I think I'll walk around naked for a while," I snap as I stomp past him. "You should probably stay in your room. I wouldn't want to offend you."

I sneak a look at him out of the corner of my eye, and I could swear I see a hint of a smile. I don't stop to make sure, heading straight to my room.

Breathing unsteadily, I don't bother to get dressed as I grab my cell phone and start tapping in a phone number. Yes, I'm angry-dialing, similar to drunk-dialing, but not as stupid because I'm able to hang up before I complete the call when I realize it's almost one in the morning. Tomorrow, then.

It's our last night together.

I'm in the kitchen, boiling noodles for the spaghetti I'm making for dinner tonight. I'm only half paying attention to what I'm doing, so I have serious concerns for how it will turn out.

Where is Zane? What if he decides to stay out all night? I debate whether or not I should call him, and wisely decide I'd better not.

I stir the noodles around so they don't get burned to the bottom, then nervously pace back and forth. This is my last chance. After tonight, I can kiss my chances goodbye, instead of kissing Zane. Once our parents get back, Zane will go back to L.A. And I'll hardly have a chance-or excuse-to see him.

That's why I brought out the big guns. It took me three hours to get ready tonight, and that was with Lauren's help (after I promised I would keep her updated with texts). This outfit is new-just got it today, in fact. The shirt is s.e.xy and red, made out of a gauzy material, with a deep v-shaped neckline. The front of it is held together by tiny hooks that show little gaps of skin when I lean forward. A floaty black miniskirt and high heels complete my hot-or-is-she-trying-too-hard look. I've kept my makeup minimal, just some lip gloss and eyeliner, and my hair is product-free, long and curling down my back.

So what took me so long to get dressed? Choosing my underwear! Because I am determined that somebody is going to be seeing it tonight. I just hope that- "What are you making?"

I scream, my hands flying up-which is very unfortunate, since I'm holding a colander full of noodles.

Oh, c.r.a.p!

Miraculously, Zane somehow catches the colander and most of its contents, save for a few stray noodles, which rightfully land on me. Guess what? They're scalding hot!

I shriek and fling the strands off me and into the sink. Humiliating? I think so.

Zane is trying not to laugh as he sets the colander on the counter. He takes in my appearance, slowly scanning me from head to toe before speaking. "What's up, Violet?"

"Um...nothing." I busy myself with brushing sticky bits of noodles on my shirt. "Uh, actually, are you going out tonight? Because I have a date coming over. For dinner. I'm making spaghetti. For this guy-his name is Mark."

Zane stares at me for a couple of seconds. "You're having a guy come here?"

I nod nervously, running my hands down my short skirt. "Yes. For dinner-spaghetti." I gesture lamely to the meatb.a.l.l.s simmering in pasta sauce on the stove.

He leans against the counter and crosses his muscled arms over his chest. "Actually, I think I'll be staying in all night."

"What? Why?"

"Because no way in h.e.l.l am I leaving you alone with some h.o.r.n.y jacka.s.s-especially looking like that."

My mouth falls open in outrage. "Like what?!"

"You know like what." He gestures angrily at me. "He'll take one look, and be all over you. Then I'd have to beat his a.s.s into the ground."

"Uh, no you don't! I can take care of myself, and I really don't need you interfering!"

"Interfering?" I flinch back as Zane explodes in exasperation. "Violet, you're G.o.d d.a.m.ned seventeen years old! You think I'm going to sit back and do nothing while some punk takes advantage of you."

I slam a sa.s.sy hand on one hip. "Who says I won't be taking advantage of him?"

Zane stares at me like I just grew another head. He shakes his head slightly. "You don't mean that," he says quietly.

I glare at him. "Yes, I do. G.o.d, you're such a hypocrite! You used to have a different girl over here every night, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g their tiny brains out. I know-the walls here are very thin and sounds are really amplified, you know! So don't you dare lecture me!"

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. "f.u.c.k! Why are you being like this? Are you trying to get back at me for what happened...that night?"

That really p.i.s.ses 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. G.o.d, 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 s.e.xy 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 c.r.a.p, 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 a.s.shole!"

"I know!" Zane yells back at me. "And you've been making me suffer for it every G.o.d d.a.m.n 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 h.e.l.l 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 embarra.s.sment. I knew it was too obvious and s.k.a.n.ky. "I did forget them," I say weakly.

"Right. s.h.i.t." Zane laughs, and shakes his head. "Who would've thought a little girl like you would have me so f.u.c.ked up, I can't think straight?"

I'm stung at the "little girl" comment. "You being f.u.c.ked 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 meatb.a.l.l.s 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!

Zane growls low in the back of his throat at my movements. I tug at his shirt, insistent. I need to feel his skin. He lets go of me only long enough to help me get it off, raising it over his head and tossing it away. I run my hands up and down his chest. Finally, finally I can touch him! He's incredible...silk over steel, so smooth and streamlined. My hand moves over his wildly beating heart. I'm doing that to him! A sense of power rushes over me as he groans and kisses me deeply.

My shirt is hanging open, I realize when he pulls back slightly. Zane watches my face carefully as he slowly unhooks my bra. I flush with embarra.s.sment when his gaze lowers and he exhales softly. Then his warm hands and talented mouth are on me, and I forget my self-consciousness, and I'm swept up in how good it feels.

My hands trail slowly down Zane's ripped abs. He stops me when I reach his zipper.

"Hold up, Violet." He chuckles unsteadily. "You're killing me here."

I take a deep breath. "Do you have anything? I mean...protection?"

"No." He smirks when I make an incredulous face at him. "I got rid of it all so I wouldn't be tempted to break down your door one night and have my dirty way with you."

I gape at him. "Were you really that tempted?"

He looks down at me, letting his gaze linger on my exposed skin. "Oh, yeah."

"Oh, um, okay," I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest. "I guess we should..."

I trail off, gesturing at...nothing. Zane places both hands on my thighs, and crouches down a little so we're face to face.

His gaze is serious, intense. "Do you want to have s.e.x with me?"

Whoa. I blush at his bluntness. "Um...wow, that's kind of personal..." I look everywhere but at him.

Zane catches my chin and holds me still. He raises an eyebrow and waits.

I force myself to look at him, his fathomless star-lit eyes, the dark angel beauty of his face. "Yes," I say finally, my voice soft but steady.

Zane searches my face intently. After a couple of seconds, he smiles. "Okay, then. Not today, though."

I smile back. "Guess not."

I can hear the disappointment tinged with relief in my tone and so can Zane.

He runs a finger gently down my jaw to my neck. "Hey," he says teasingly. "There are other things we can do."

He doesn't have to spell it out for me-the promising gleam in his eyes say it all. He pushes me down on the counter, and proceeds to take me to heaven.

Chapter 14.

I'm lying there, panting and limp as a noodle-and utterly speechless.

Zane lifts his head to look at me. He cracks a grin at the look on my face. "You okay?"

I clear my throat, testing to see if my brain is working. "Um. Give me a minute."

He chuckles, and I can hear that hint of male satisfaction in his laughter. He lets me catch my breath before he starts talking again.

"You know, I read your books," he says out of the blue.

"You..." I can't look at him, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. "Oh."

"They're really great. Funny as h.e.l.l, and clever."