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The last few nights, having her sitting out with him was surprisingly relaxing. Even if he was sometimes distracted when she crossed and uncrossed her legs or pulled her knees up, revealing tantalizingly shadowed glimpses of her inner thighs and the curve of her ass.
It was easy enough to push aside those momentary distractions with her safely on the other side of the living room. But when she stood so close behind him, her apple-and-vanilla scent surrounding him and her hands stroking along his skin, it was all too easy to picture more. To close his eyes and imagine peeling her out of those little pajamas and exploring every inch of her soft skin. With his lips, his tongue, his hands. Then unzipping his jeans, releasing his straining cock, and pulling her down onto him so she could ride him until they both exploded.
And fuck. Wasn’t that a damn tempting image?
But it wasn’t going to happen.
Not tonight.
Not any night.
He’d had to wait until he was composed enough to face her after she jerked herself away from him. It was why he pretended not to see how blown her pupils were, or how she crossed her arms over her breasts, or that her chest and face were flushed. He’d ruthlessly suppressed the urge to yank her back to him so he could press his lips to her skin and feel the heat of her arousal.
Now, she sat on the other side of the room, and he’d somehow forced himself to concentrate for the last forty-five minutes while he kept working with the other guys. That was forty-five minutes of ignoring the sharp impulse to ditch his guitar and make what he’d imagined real.
“It has to be more emotional,” Caleb was arguing with Beau. “It’s a duet. I want to feel the fucking poignancy in my gut when Zac and Talia sing it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s hard to feel the emotion when we’re all damn tired,” Beau responded. “Zac looks like he’s actually fucking daydreaming for the first time in his life. And if he’s zoned out, then I think we can safely say it’s time to call it quits for the night.”
Zac realized his focus had drifted. Again. “Beau’s right. It’s been a long night. We can pick this up tomorrow. We’ll try to work on strengthening the lyrics for the second verse. Hopefully, we can nail it soon.”
Ignoring the moaning and groaning from the other end of the line, Zac said goodbye and disconnected. He finally allowed himself to look over at Cassie. Just like the first night, she was asleep, and he let out a sigh of relief. He could carry her to her bunk without any further enticement, then go to bed and try to put this night out of his mind.
He approached Cassie and stood looking down at her. He didn’t know what he found so compelling about watching her sleep. Maybe because it meant he could actually let himself look at her without worrying what assumptions people might leap to.
From the very first time he’d met Cassie, he knew she wasn’t someone he could let himself touch. He’d told himself she was too starry-eyed and innocent for him. Not innocent in the virginal sense. Innocent to the harsh realities of life. Was that still true? Or had what Bryan done stripped that from her?
She still looked damn innocent, though. With her long lashes brushing the creamy skin of her cheekbones and her soft, pink lips slightly parted, she looked like that damn angel, fallen from heaven just to tempt him. Waves of silky dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, leading his gaze directly to her full breasts. Her nipples were still half-hard, pressing against her top, and he wondered if they’d stayed that way since she’d had her hands on him.
His dick swelled as he took her in, pressing against his fly. He resisted the urge to palm it to relieve some of the pressure. He felt like enough of a damn pervert standing over her and getting hard just from watching her while she slept.
Get a fucking grip. She’s just a woman, like any other.
Her notebook on the couch next to her drew his gaze. He wanted to know what she wrote in there every night. He’d almost asked several times over the last few days, and every time, he’d stopped himself. He wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant to give in to his curiosity. What was he worried would happen if he let himself find out more about her?
These late nights were scrambling his mind.
He exhaled. Unfortunately, he still had to get her to her bed. He grabbed the notebook and shoved it in the back of his jeans again, slid his arms underneath her, and straightened.
He took a few careful steps toward the bunks when Cassie’s eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked up at him.
“Zac?” Her voice was husky with sleep.
“Shh, angel,” he said. “I’m taking you to bed.”
Maybe it came out the wrong way. Or maybe it was the rasp in his voice when he said it because her eyes widened, her lips parted, and she tried to sit up in his arms. He swore under his breath and let go with one arm so she could slide down his body.
It was a mistake.
They ended up pressed against each other, her staring up at him with her hands trapped against his chest, and him with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
The position was too intimate. And yet neither of them moved. Zac’s heart was pumping hard in his chest, and Cassie’s breaths came fast and uneven from her parted lips.
He was fixated on those lips—soft, full, and naturally pink. He couldn’t stop staring at them, knowing that all he had to do to get a taste was to lower his head. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet them and he almost broke. He needed to wrestle back some control before he did something stupid.
Zac forced himself to remember all of the reasons why kissing Cassie would be a terrible idea. His arms fell away from her, and he stepped back.
“Sorry.” His voice was rough. “I was just taking you to your bunk.”
