Elise had graduated from skating back and forth across the short end of the rink to skating around it. But it was still a struggle for her to keep her balance. When she stumbled yet again, she asked Zach if he could skate backward. And when he answered in the affirmative, she suggested he skate backward while she held onto his hands and skated forward. In fact, she grabbed his hands before he could even answer.
“Why don’t you ask Rory to help you?” he said as they started moving, trying to ignore the feel of her hands in his, which demanded his attention despite the two layers of fabric in between.
“I suppose I could, but…”
“Why not? He seemed interested in you.”
“He’s not.” Elise was looking at her feet, and he couldn’t see her face. “He’s married. Normally his wife would have come, but she’s out of town for the weekend.”
“So his wife was gone and he… What the hell? Why didn’t you tell him off?” Maybe Zach should have done one of the stupid things he’d thought of doing last night.
“Let’s sit down. I can’t talk and skate at the same time.”
“I don’t see what there is to talk about.”
Elise let go of his hands. She skated to one of the benches around the rink, and he reluctantly followed her.
Once they were sitting, she said, “It’s not like that at all.”
“So tell me then, what is it like? Because what I’m seeing is a married guy going after a friend of his wife’s, and that’s all kinds of wrong.”
“Actually, I’m closer friends with Rory than Angela. We used to work together.”
“And now he wants something more?”
“No.”
“What the hell was going on, Elise?”
She just looked at him for a moment and shook her head, like she couldn’t believe how dense he was.
Oh. Zach got it now. Elise had been trying to make him jealous.
“Wasn’t my idea,” she said. “Marissa’s.”
“What did you tell your friends about me?”
“That I wasn’t sure what you thought of me. Though now I have a pretty good idea.” She scanned the ice and then turned toward Zach. “What would’ve happened if I’d followed you last night?”
“Nothing good.”
“What, are you a bad lay? Are you trying to save me from your horrible skills in the sack?”
He hated being goaded like this. “Last night I made myself come thinking of what I might have done to you. And trust me, you would have enjoyed it. Even if I’d fucked you in the stairwell.”
“I bet you’re the first man who’s ever thought about me like that.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong. But I’m the only one rude enough to tell you about it.”
She leaned very close to him; he could feel her breath on his ear, and it went straight to his groin. Even though she was dressed up like a snowman, he was getting hard. He wanted to unwrap each layer as if she were a present.
“Last night I…” She shook her head and looked away. “Never mind.”
“I think I want to hear this.” He was sure she’d been about to tell him that she’d done the same thing last night. Yes, quite sure.
But he shouldn’t have said that. He turned away from her and faced the adjacent bench, folding his arms over his chest.
She didn’t say anything, to his relief and disappointment, but she laughed and wrapped her arms around his middle. Even though there were many, many layers between them, her embrace felt warm and just so…right. This shouldn’t be happening. He should elbow her arms away. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Goddammit. She was only hugging him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so affected by a hug.
“We can’t sleep together,” he said, more to remind himself than anything else.
“Why not? Do you turn into a frog in the morning?”
Oh, God. She just wouldn’t give this up.
“I throw you away,” he said. “Maybe not after the first time, but certainly by the fifth. And you deserve better than that. I like you—I don’t want that for you. But that’s just the way I am.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Well, maybe it’ll be different since you like me. Maybe you’ll stick around for a bit, not get bored so fast.”
“I don’t work like that.” He grasped her hand, intending to remove it from his body, but she just hugged him tighter. And oh, it felt really good, and he didn’t have the heart to push her off.
“You’re also making a lot of assumptions about what I want,” she said. “Maybe all I want is a little fling. Maybe what you and I want is perfectly in sync here.”
That wasn’t really what he wanted to happen, but it was what he knew would happen. And he was certain she was all talk—she wanted more than a little fling.
“That’s not what most women want,” he said.
“Okay, you got me.” She slid one hand down to his knee. He wasn’t used to this affection. “You’re how old?”
“Thirty-three.”
“And you’ve never had a real relationship?”
His jaw tightened. “I’ve had exactly one…thing…that could be called a relationship. That was ten years ago.”
“She hurt you.”
“No.”
“You broke her heart.”
“And the engagement.”
“You can’t forgive yourself for that? I bet she’s forgiven you. And if she hasn’t…well, she’s got problems of her own. Not your fault.”
Elise was undeterred. She probably thought she could change him—and she wouldn’t be the first person to think that way. But no one had come close to succeeding.
“I don’t want to change you,” she said. “I just think you’re a different man than you seem to think you are.”
That was a new one. “You don’t know me very well.”
“True.” She rested her chin on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Like they were a real couple. “You’ve had one more real relationship than I have.”
“What?” He turned around abruptly and wriggled out of her arms.
She laughed at his shock. “No guy was ever interested in me in high school. Same thing in university—even in a male-dominated program.”
“You’ve got to be exaggerating. A lot.” Pretty girl like Elise? No way. Unless she’d had a drastic makeover…
Even then. He was sure she’d still look good with a bad haircut and ugly clothes.
“Maybe a little,” she said. “But not much. I was so lacking in confidence, always hiding, shrinking from social contact. No one wants a woman like that.”
That didn’t sound like Elise. Not the one he knew.
“It’s hard to stop thinking of yourself as a woman no man could ever want.” She shrugged. “And while I might be more social now, it’s not like things have been all that different since I graduated. Though to be fair, I haven’t put much effort into dating.”
He was trying to wrap his mind around this. And thinking he might be able to hurt her even more than he’d thought, inexperienced as she was. Had she even had sex? He’d been fantasizing about taking her roughly against the wall and she—
“I’m not a virgin, in case you were wondering. I think you might have been—that’s how I’m interpreting the horrified expression on your face.” She leaned toward him, the tip of her cold nose touching his. “But men aren’t usually interested, so now that I’ve found a guy who is, I’m not going to give up easily.”
Yeah, he could tell.
She took his hand and stood up, pulling him with her. “Could you help me get on the ice? I’m still not very good at this part.”
He nodded. “I won’t skate backward and hold your hands though.”
“Suit yourself.”
But ten minutes later, he couldn’t help himself from grabbing her hand and taking her for a spin. He knew she loved it, and he liked making her happy—and this was something he could do without any complications.
And afterward, she was all flushed and so cute, and when she asked if he wanted to have coffee, he agreed, even though it was probably a stupid thing to do.
Scratch that. It was definitely a stupid thing to do. She had confirmed that she wanted more than he could offer. This could only end badly. But he couldn’t help wanting to spend more time with her.
Thankfully, the conversation was less personal than it had been at the rink.
“There’s a storm coming on Tuesday,” she said as she sat down with her cup of coffee. “A rain-snow mix.”
“So I heard.”
“You got a driveway to shovel?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Luckily I don’t need to worry about that. Wet snow’s the worst.”
She kept talking about snow for a few minutes, Zach only offering a few words here and there. The conversation may have been less personal, but it reminded him of Darren.
There’d been another snowfall a few days after his funeral. Zach had called Tracey and asked if she wanted him to shovel her driveway, though it was a little silly to drive twenty minutes for that—it was only a few centimeters of snow. She told him the neighbors were helping her with it.
Whenever he shoveled his own driveway now, at the back of his mind was the fear that he might die. Though it wasn’t so much a fear, just something that occurred to him might happen. Of course, the chances were miniscule.
“You okay?” Elise asked, sliding her hand across the table to his.
Zach wanted nothing more than to take her home with him right now, to forget with her body rather than the punching bag. But he shouldn’t. He curled his fingers around hers, trying not to hold on too tightly.
He didn’t think he could keep resisting her.
She looked down at their hands. “I’m thinking of going to Ottawa this weekend. Obviously I won’t be able to skate very far on the canal. But it’s their winter festival—ice sculptures and other things to do, too. I’ve never been to Ottawa. I was going to wait until next year, but why not? I can always go again.” She paused, and he knew what she was going to ask before she said it. “Want to come with me?”
Ottawa was hard to do as a day trip, as it involved nine hours or so of driving to go there and back. They would probably stay overnight. She must know that.
Screw trying to do the right thing. She knew exactly what she was getting into with him. He’d made that clear. If she didn’t like it when he left her, she could take care of it herself. Not his problem.
“Sure,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.” She put her hand on his cheek, leaned over, and kissed him quickly on the lips.
“But it doesn’t mean anything that I’m willing to go with you.” Happy to go with her. “You haven’t changed me.”
“I know.” She dropped her hand to the table and squeezed his.
He pulled away and wiped her kiss off his lips, unable to bear the feeling of the wetness she’d left on him, the stamp of affection. Not without pushing her onto the table and screwing her senseless.
“Was it that horrible, the kiss?” She frowned. “I told you, I really don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to these things. Perhaps you’re—”
“Let’s go, Elise.”
She jerked back. “Shit, you don’t need to act like the heartless person you think you are.”
Yeah, maybe he was a little heartless, but she’d totally misinterpreted his words.
“Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere a little more private, where we can kiss properly.” Where he could turn all her touches into something sexual. He could deal with sexual. What he couldn’t deal with was affection.
∙•∙
Elise thought Zach would take her back to his place. But he merely found an empty hallway in the attached building. Not romantic at all, but she didn’t care.
He pushed her back against the wall, slid his thigh between her legs, and nudged them apart. His erection dug into her—hot and hard and desperate. God, he felt so good and they’d barely even started. He unzipped her jacket and shoved his hand up her sweater, squeezing her breasts.
“Now kiss me, Elise,” he said, his voice ragged.
As soon as she pressed her lips to his, his mouth crushed hers. Yes. It was coarse and needy and incredible, and unlike anything she’d ever experienced with a man before. He ground his hips against her, and she breathed in sharply at the heat and power of him. One hand palmed her nipple, the other grabbed her ass. Every inch of her body just felt so alive with feeling.
His tongue sought out hers, and she let him into her mouth, tangled her tongue with his, wished their bodies were joined even more closely. Ached to have him between her legs.
He brought his mouth to her ear. “Are you wet for me?”
A stupid question. Of course she was.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He opened her snow pants, her jeans. Cupped her sex over her underwear. She squirmed against his hand, desperate for him to touch her more intimately.
“Now tell me what you did last night,” he growled.
She looked into his eyes, deep with desire for her—for her—and her breath hitched. She wanted to tell him. Oh, she did. But it wasn’t the sort of thing she was used to doing.
Zach just stood there, waiting. He didn’t move his hand.
She swallowed. “After everyone left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I…I touched myself.”
“Just with your fingers?”
“At first. But then…I have a toy. I pretended it was you. Can you touch me now?”
He didn’t. “Did you come on my cock?”
She gasped. “Yes.”
“I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he said, his voice low. “Hard?”
She nodded. She’d lost her voice.
Especially now that the tip of his finger was circling her entrance.
“You’re very wet,” he said. “When was the last time you had a man inside you?”
He expected her to speak? She couldn’t. Certainly not now that he had his finger all the way inside her. The man she’d been fantasizing about for weeks was fucking her with his finger, rubbing her clit with his thumb… Words were not happening.
And then he removed his hand and pulled up the zipper on her jeans.
She heard it now, too. Footsteps, getting closer. She jumped away from him, her heart racing.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“No. Not now.” He had her against the wall again. The footsteps had faded. “But sometime this week, I want you to think of me and touch yourself.”
She nodded helplessly.
“You gonna go home and do it now?” He smirked.
She nodded again. She wouldn’t be able to think of anything else when she got home.
“Thought so.” He looked so smug, damn him.
“We’re going to Ottawa together, aren’t we?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Go on Saturday…come back on Sunday?” And you’re going to sleep with me?
“Sounds good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and started toward the exit, seeming unruffled by the past five minutes. How could he manage that?
Maybe because he did this all the time. This was nothing to him. She was just someone else he’d use and toss away. He’d told her as much.
He kissed her again at the exit, his lips lingering on hers just briefly. She wished she could be immune to his touch, but she wasn’t. She was far from immune. Would do anything to tumble into bed with him. Perhaps he was right; perhaps he’d leave her and possibly break her heart. Perhaps she would only have the one night with him.
But at least she would have that.