Page 39 of Until We Meet Again

He pulls up and stops the car. "Are you sure about coming in here? If you've changed your mind, just say the word, and I'll turn around and take you home."

He's giving me the choice to turn away from what we both know will happen the moment we step through that door. We're about to cross a line we can't come back from, and he's giving me a way out.

"I don't want to go home, Zane." Our eyes meet, and he gives me a nod before stepping out of the car. Heholds my door open for me, offering me his hand. Once I step out, I follow him closely as he leads the way to his house.

He swings the large front door open and steps back, allowing me to enter ahead of him like the perfect gentleman. As I step forward, I take in the beauty of his home. Shades of gray adorn the walls, and the black flooring stretches as far as my eyes can see.

I hear him close the door behind me, and my eyes are drawn to a large circular mirror hanging on the wall close to the entrance.But when I catch my reflection, I see Zane standing behind me, and I know if I turn to face him, I'll shatter.

He touches my shoulders and peels off my jacket with deliberate slowness. I feel his breath dancing upon the nape of my neck as if he's daring himself to surrender to the forbidden desire that burns between us, and as goosebumps cover my skin, I release a shaky breath.

"Zane," I utter his name with a hint of urgency. When I gradually turn around to face him, I can see he's on the verge of losing control. "I know there are rules surrounding us, but please, Zane." This time, I'm practically begging.

"Fuck it." He thrusts a hand through my hair, and his lips find mine, hot and hard, as his tongue dominates my mouth. He lets out a low, guttural sound, and my whole body trembles as I realize how completely intoxicated I am by this man standing in front of me.

He wraps a hand around my throat, and my fingers clutch onto his shirt, drawing him nearer with every brush of his tongue. I relax in his arms, surrendering to him when he suddenly releases me and walks away, leaving me breathless and craving more of whatever it was he just made me feel.

"Zane?" I watch him walk into another room, his back muscles flexing beneath his shirt, and my mouth dries up.

Following him into his kitchen, I notice how the entire space is bathed in black except for the white marble kitchen island. He gestures toward a stool, tapping it lightly before he makes his way to the opposite side."Sit down, sweetheart." I lower myself onto the chrome stool, watching him closely as he pushes some buttons on his coffee machine.

"Your house is gorgeous."

"Thank you." His lips curl into a smile, and I can't help but laugh. In a matter of seconds, he's gone from fucking my mouthand giving me a hand necklace to a domesticated man with his shit together.

"You hungry?" I ask when he starts to put together a sandwich.

"This isn't for me." He pushes a mug of coffee across the island to me, and I thank him as I pull it closer. "Drink that, and I'll make you another for when you finish eating."

"What's going on here?" He pausesand turns to face me, laying the utensils in front of him. He clasps his hands together as he leans forward on the island, resting his forearms against thesurface, and I can see the determination in his eyes as they reach mine.

"I'm not going to touch you again until you're somewhat sober."

"I’m not dru—" I try to respond, but he interrupts me, preventing the lie from slipping past my lips.

"There will come a time tonight when you'll have a choice to make. You'll either sober up, and I'll take you home, or you'll stay and know what it feels like to be touched by me." He silences me, but his words light me up, setting my skin on fire. "I'm done waiting, and I'm done fighting."

I know what I want. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

He reaches for the utensils again and continues to make me something to eat.

"If you stay, then I want you to remember everything your body feels when I make you come for the first time, and for that, I need you sober." Mini eruptions pulse throughout my body, causing my thighs to automatically clench together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache that hasn't left me since the night at the bar. I lock eyes with him and see a flicker of awareness in his gaze—a silent nod to the subtle change in my energy. "Squeezing your legs together won't make that ache go away. Only I can do that." He smirks as he pushes a grilledcheese sandwich toward me. "But first, we need to talk before anything happens here."

"I know." As I bite into the sandwich, I almost groan in appreciation at how good it is.

"Do you remember us talking about what I could offer you?"

"I remember you being very clear about how you can be exclusively casual."

The night I learned how delicious his mouth is.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Like I said to you, I'm not looking for marriage. But you're the first person I've felt this kind of connection with, and I wanted to explore it. But then it became complicated."

"It isn't exactly a normal situation, is it?"

"It's not one I expected to be in the day you asked me about my favorite book." I see a smile form on his lips, as if he's remembering the day he reachedout to me. "What are we doing? Because I can't keep this shitup anymore?"

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