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Zac blinked himself awake, the muscles of his shoulders twinging. He groaned. Why the hell was he so cramped?
He looked around and realized he was sprawled in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the living room.
Fuck.
The memory of last night came crashing back, and he let his head drop against the chair. He closed his eyes, reliving the moment he’d woken to the sound of his name hanging like the whisper of a promise in the air. He sucked in a breath as he remembered sinking his fingers into Cassie, then let it out on a strangled groan at the memory of her hips bucking up against him as she came.
And then when she came again.
His erection was a heavy ache that his sweatpants could barely contain. He palmed it, squeezing as he inhaled deeply. He’d already jerked off last night after it had happened. He had to. If he hadn’t, if he’d taken her up on her offer and let her wrap her fingers around him, he would have broken his rule and fucked her.
Even now, the urge to storm into the bedroom, pull those tiny shorts down, and bury himself in her tight little body was almost overwhelming.
He let go of his dick and sat up, forcing aside the memories, shoving the impulse down as far as he could.
He couldn’t sleep with her.
Kissing her at the club was a mistake. Touching her last night was a moment of insanity. He refused to let it go any further.
The door to the bedroom opened, and she stood there.
As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he drank her in—from her dark, tousled waves, to her sleepy eyes and full, pink lips. The thin straps of her top only emphasized the delicate line of her collarbone. And fuck, those full tits with nipples that even now were jutting through the material covering them. The memory of how they’d tasted on his tongue made his mouth water.
Her arms folded over her chest, and he met her narrowed gaze. She was pissed. Was it wrong that he enjoyed seeing her blue eyes snapping with anger?
Zac pushed himself up from the chair and closed the gap between them, watching her lips part and her pupils dilate.
“I’m sorry,” he said once he was standing in front of her.
She blinked, as if she expected him to blow her off or pretend last night hadn’t happened. But there was no pretending he hadn’t felt her come on his fingers.
She licked her lips. “Why?”
“Why am I sorry?”
She huffed out a breath. “Why didn’t you let me touch you?”
So, she wasn’t pissed he’d put his hands on her—or not just that, anyway. She was pissed he didn’t let her do the same for him. He should have known not being able to give back would bother her more than the fact he shouldn’t have touched her in the first place.
“If I’d let you touch me, it wouldn’t have stopped there. I would have fucked you, and we both know you’d have let me. That can’t happen.”
She bit down on her full lower lip, and his traitorous cock pulsed. “Why not?” she asked, her cheekbones tinting pink.
“Because I can’t give you what you need.” His tone was gruffer than he intended.
Cassie’s mouth turned down. “And what is it you think Ineed?”
“Love, a family, happily ever after. The fairy tale.” Tension rippled through his voice.
Her delicate brows pulled together. “You make those sound like bad things.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just not something I’m interested in.”
Her back stiffened. “And what, you think that if we slept together, I’d expect you to propose?”
“Would you be happy with a one and done? Or for me to screw you a few times, then walk away? Because that’s all this could ever be.” Her lips pressed together at the harshness of his tone. He softened his voice. “I’m not the man for you, Cassie. I’m never going to be the man for you.”
“Then why did you even touch me?”
