Page 66 of Calling a Cease-Fire

“What can I say?” The way Zack’s gaze heated with desire as he stared at me caused me to clench my legs together. “I like being prepared for anything.”

He shrugged, all innocent in front of his friends, then gripped the inside of my thigh, pulling them apart and trailing his fingers under my skirt. I swallowed down a whimper and shifted again, anticipation building in my core.

The guys started talking about the crazy calls today and how Zack might be onto something. I tuned out the rest of what they were saying, focusing on the way his fingers moved slowly up my leg. In the smallest increments ever.

“Do you agree, Mia?” Logan’s question startled me, and I blinked.

“Agree?” The single word squeaked out, and everyone’s expression took on questioning or concerned looks.

Well, everyone but Zack. He still held that same smug knowing look. Thankfully, he brought his hand back up on the table before I melted into a puddle of pliant goo on the barstool.

“Have you seen an increase in calls this week?” Logan clarified.

“Oh, yeah. It kind of seems like we have in the last few days.”

Our food was delivered, and before I could even grab one, Zack reached over and stole a fry.

“Seriously?” I glowered at him in exasperation. Even though he’d said he would steal my fries, I didn’t think he actually would. Not with his own freaking basket. “You have your own.”

“I know. But you know I can’t pass up an opportunity to rile you up.”

I sighed. “You’re annoying.”

He just laughed. A mix of cockiness and desire.

As we ate, I asked Izzy how the wedding plans were coming along. She was excited for her farm-chic wedding and was over the moon about the venue they’d found for it.

I picked at the last of my fries and cleared my throat to cover the sharp intake of air as I felt Zack’s hand back on my thigh. His fingers landed higher than they were before, and I almost jumped off the stool when he inched them even higher, brushing along the seam of my thong.

Jesus Christ. Was he trying to tell the whole table we were fucking? Even more surprising, I found myself not mad, but rather embracing it as I shifted to open my legs wider.

I struggled to keep my breathing even as he brushed his fingers over my skin, so close to where I wanted him. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek as his pinkie ghosted over my clit.

Unable to take it anymore, I shifted suddenly and hopped off my stool, excusing myself to the bathroom. If I stayed there and let him touch me like that for even another minute, there was no way the entire group wouldn’t figure it out. The asshole. So much for keeping it quiet and low-key around our friends. But dammit, I was as much annoyed with him as I was turned on. I could already feel that I was soaked.

Emerging from the bathroom a moment later, shock hit me as Zack strode down the hallway, moving quickly toward me. The teasing playfulness from earlier was gone, in its place was pure lust. He grabbed me by the hand and pushed through the back door out into the cool night air.

“Zack—”

Before I could utter another word, he had my back against the building, intense heat smoldering in his eyes.

“You make me crazy,” he practically growled at me. And that raspy edge was doing so many things to me. But…

“Me?” What the hell? He was the one trying to finger me under the table. How was I the one driving him crazy?

“Yes, you. I thought if I touched you, teased you like that, you’d fight it. Get all huffy and annoyed. It would be easier to keep up our charade.” He trailed one finger from my jaw, down my neck and over my breast, circling my nipple through my shirt. “But instead, you fucking encouraged me. Opened your legs like my needy little vixen, tempting me to make you come. In front of everyone in the bar.”

I smiled then. One I hoped was filled with all the mischief and trouble I currently felt. “That’s exactly what I wanted you to do.”

“Fucking hell. You’re going to be the death of me.” His mouth crashed down on mine in a searing kiss, pulling all the breath from my lungs.

I fisted his shirt as our tongues dueled, fighting for dominance. He leaned his weight against me, pushing me harder into the building, as his large, thick thigh pressed between my legs. It didn’t take long for me to start rotating my hips, seeking friction.

He pulled back, breaths coming in shallow pants, gaze filled with so much need it made me want him right there and then. Not caring who saw.

His hand dipped under my skirt, trailing up. “I need to feel how wet you are.” He moved my thong to the side and slid a finger through my arousal. “Fuck, baby. You really are needy tonight, aren’t you? Want me to fuck you right here?”

“Yes,” I moaned as he continued to play with me.