She put her hand to his chest and felt the solid thudding of his heart. “Don’t change your mind.”

“No.” Eyes hot, a low laugh escaped Zach. “No. But we could go to my place, or—”

“No.” She wanted another kiss. She loved the way he tasted, the way he smelled, so innately male she could hardly stand it. How long since she’d felt this way? Too long, that’s all she knew. “Right here. It’ll help me relax, Zach. I really need to relax.”

Laughing silkily, he slid his hands to her waist, squeezed, then let them glide up her ribs, stopping just before her breasts. Her aching breasts. “Anything to help,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.

That worked. So worked. He wanted her. She could feel it in the tension in his broad shoulders, in the taut muscles of his back. Knowing it gave her a heady rush of power, and she demanded more, pressing closer.

His hands slid down her back, pulling her onto his lap, making her momentarily lose concentration as she tried to remember—did she have on pretty panties?—but then she couldn’t think at all because his hands were skimming beneath her dress and were on those panties, and he let out another of those sexy rough sounds…

Oh yeah, letting loose worked. She should have tried it a long time ago. Already it was beating back the inexplicable loneliness she hadn’t been able to put a name to. With Zach, she never felt alone; it was part of his appeal. He fascinated her. He had from the start. He was such a presence, so virile, so physical—especially right this minute.

“Brooke?”

He wore his intense firefighter face, or maybe that was just his intensity, period, but mixed in with it was need and desire, stark, glorious desire—for her. “Yes?”

His eyes were on hers as his hands continued to mess with her mind. “What are you wearing beneath this dress?”

“Not much.”

The sound he made gave her another heady rush, and she gripped the hem of his T-shirt. Helping her, he tugged it over his head, then pulled her back in. The full physical contact made her hum, and then his fingers played with the tie at the back of her neck, the only thing holding up her dress, and the breath evaporated in her lungs.

“Your skin is so soft.” He was touching as much of it as he could, running his hands up and down her sides, her arms, her back, under her dress, pressing his face to her throat. “And you smell so damn good…”

He smelled good, too. So good she leaned in and put her mouth to his shoulder, opening it on him because she needed a taste, just a little teeny tiny taste—

He sucked in a breath when she bit him.