sex.
Wet. God, he’d dampened her panties with nothing more than a vanilla kiss. Needy for more. For him . Tony’s kiss couldn’t begin to compare with something so honest. Pure.
Zack’s arousal was like a separate, living entity calling to her. Demanding only one response. She wished they were anywhere but here, free to taste and touch at leisure. She wished—
Zack broke the kiss and tipped up her chin, running his thumb over her plump bottom lip. His lids were heavy, eyes dark with a reflection of her own thoughts.
“Be careful,” he murmured huskily. “A gorgeous woman who loves to live dangerously should know I’m a man who’s damned sick of being good. One day you might wish you’d let this sleeping dog lie.”
Momentarily rendered speechless, Cori could only stare as Zack pushed off the bed and walked stiffly into the small bathroom, sack in hand. An invitation and a warning in the same breath. How could any red-blooded female resist?
She couldn’t. A fact that became shockingly clear the instant Zack stepped, fully dressed, from the bathroom.
Sweet leaping Jesus. He’s . . . beautiful.
There was truly not a more perfect word to describe Zack. She’d never seen him in street clothes and— Oh my —he’d just redefined her opinion of exactly how a man should look.
At just over six feet, he was built like a runner: a man who kept in shape, but didn’t bulk up too much. His body was long, lean, and toned, roped with just the perfect amount of muscle, though she doubted she’d be able to span his biceps with both hands.
His chest stretched the confines of his dark blue T-shirt, a sculpted work of art. His stomach was so flat and hard, you could probably bounce a quarter off his abs. A trim waist, jeans hanging low on his hips, long thighs. The soft denim cupped a sizable bulge at his crotch, leaving no doubt that her attraction was returned tenfold.
All told, the man was a feast begging to be devoured.
And he’d all but challenged her to grab a fork.
“Let me guess. These radioactive boxers are making me glow like Las Vegas at midnight.”
The amusement in his tone jerked her attention back to his face. His eyes were dancing in mirth. And something else a helluva lot darker. Hungrier.
“You, um, look . . . nice. Really great,” she added, feeling thrown off her groove. His sexy smile hit her like a fist to the gut.
“A definite improvement over hospital haute couture, don’t you think? Damn, I feel almost human.”
Well, she certainly hadn’t been referring to the clothing. He couldn’t possibly be that innocent. Could he?
Any reply hovering on her lips was lost as Dr. Chu bustled in, handing Zack two prescriptions and issuing stern orders to continue the breathing treatments as an outpatient for at least another week. His directive to lay off work for at least two weeks and obtain written clearance to return to the station was met with silence on Zack’s part, his earlier humor evaporating. By the set of his jaw, Cori knew Zack had no intention of complying with that part of the doctor’s rules if he could figure a way around it.
A nurse pushed Zack out to the curb in a wheelchair, per hospital policy, while Cori brought her car around. Zack slid into the passenger’s seat and they were on the road. Glancing at him, Cori thought how surreal it was to have him sitting next to her. Her rescuer, with whom she’d already faced down death and won.
Because of his courage.
“Tell me something about yourself,” she said, turning west like he’d instructed, toward Clarksville.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Favorite food? Pet peeve?”
“Hmm. Okay, I love baby back ribs. I’d kill for a rack of those smothered with Jack Daniel’s barbecue sauce right now.” His stomach rumbled and she grinned.
“Obviously. We’ll have to do something about that. What else?”
“I hate pasta.”
“That’s not normal.”
“I know. But it’s slimy. Blech.” He thought for a
Wet. God, he’d dampened her panties with nothing more than a vanilla kiss. Needy for more. For him . Tony’s kiss couldn’t begin to compare with something so honest. Pure.
Zack’s arousal was like a separate, living entity calling to her. Demanding only one response. She wished they were anywhere but here, free to taste and touch at leisure. She wished—
Zack broke the kiss and tipped up her chin, running his thumb over her plump bottom lip. His lids were heavy, eyes dark with a reflection of her own thoughts.
“Be careful,” he murmured huskily. “A gorgeous woman who loves to live dangerously should know I’m a man who’s damned sick of being good. One day you might wish you’d let this sleeping dog lie.”
Momentarily rendered speechless, Cori could only stare as Zack pushed off the bed and walked stiffly into the small bathroom, sack in hand. An invitation and a warning in the same breath. How could any red-blooded female resist?
She couldn’t. A fact that became shockingly clear the instant Zack stepped, fully dressed, from the bathroom.
Sweet leaping Jesus. He’s . . . beautiful.
There was truly not a more perfect word to describe Zack. She’d never seen him in street clothes and— Oh my —he’d just redefined her opinion of exactly how a man should look.
At just over six feet, he was built like a runner: a man who kept in shape, but didn’t bulk up too much. His body was long, lean, and toned, roped with just the perfect amount of muscle, though she doubted she’d be able to span his biceps with both hands.
His chest stretched the confines of his dark blue T-shirt, a sculpted work of art. His stomach was so flat and hard, you could probably bounce a quarter off his abs. A trim waist, jeans hanging low on his hips, long thighs. The soft denim cupped a sizable bulge at his crotch, leaving no doubt that her attraction was returned tenfold.
All told, the man was a feast begging to be devoured.
And he’d all but challenged her to grab a fork.
“Let me guess. These radioactive boxers are making me glow like Las Vegas at midnight.”
The amusement in his tone jerked her attention back to his face. His eyes were dancing in mirth. And something else a helluva lot darker. Hungrier.
“You, um, look . . . nice. Really great,” she added, feeling thrown off her groove. His sexy smile hit her like a fist to the gut.
“A definite improvement over hospital haute couture, don’t you think? Damn, I feel almost human.”
Well, she certainly hadn’t been referring to the clothing. He couldn’t possibly be that innocent. Could he?
Any reply hovering on her lips was lost as Dr. Chu bustled in, handing Zack two prescriptions and issuing stern orders to continue the breathing treatments as an outpatient for at least another week. His directive to lay off work for at least two weeks and obtain written clearance to return to the station was met with silence on Zack’s part, his earlier humor evaporating. By the set of his jaw, Cori knew Zack had no intention of complying with that part of the doctor’s rules if he could figure a way around it.
A nurse pushed Zack out to the curb in a wheelchair, per hospital policy, while Cori brought her car around. Zack slid into the passenger’s seat and they were on the road. Glancing at him, Cori thought how surreal it was to have him sitting next to her. Her rescuer, with whom she’d already faced down death and won.
Because of his courage.
“Tell me something about yourself,” she said, turning west like he’d instructed, toward Clarksville.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Favorite food? Pet peeve?”
“Hmm. Okay, I love baby back ribs. I’d kill for a rack of those smothered with Jack Daniel’s barbecue sauce right now.” His stomach rumbled and she grinned.
“Obviously. We’ll have to do something about that. What else?”
“I hate pasta.”
“That’s not normal.”
“I know. But it’s slimy. Blech.” He thought for a
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