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He stopped a few inches from me, all up in my space, but I stood my ground. I looked straight up into his beautiful face and met his unholy blueeyes.
His blond hair, shaved short on the sides but long on top, slid over his eye as he looked down at me. He raked it slowly back with one ring-laden hand and I caught a breath of him… that crazy-delicious man scent of his that always made my ovaries skip abeat.
“Maggie May,” he said, and the devil was in his slow, easy smile. Yeah. The son of a bitch smiled, like he was happy to see me. “Just thinking aboutyou.”
Fuck me.He totally saidthat.
He eyed the oversized T-shirt I was wearing, the diabolical gears turning in his head. “The hell are you doinghere?”
I wasn’t gonna touch that. Not the point. Though Iwasglad to hear that he didn’t know I was in the next room when he decided to throw this littleparty.
Then the song changed, and Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” started playing… and the bottom completely fell out of my anger. Becauseseriously.
“Classy,Zane.”
“I’m all class, sweetheart,” he said, and the smile lit up his gorgeousface.
I couldn’t even help smiling back as I rolled my eyes.Shit, though. I was supposed to bemad.
How the hell did he always do this tome?
Oh, right. Because the man wasevil.
He was also charming as hell, and while I wanted to hate him, a lot, sometimes I failed at that. Bigtime.
Sometimes—well, most of the time—I liked Zane Traynor far too much for my owngood.
Chapter Two
Zane
Maggie crossedher arms and glared up at me, like she was trying really hard to stay pissed. Which was cool with me. When Maggie got pissed, I got hard. Which meant I was already a helluva lot harder than I was a minute ago watching a couple of random chicks suck face. Especially when her nipples popped out against hershirt.
I did kinda feel like a jackass though. Had no clue she was inthere.
My gaze skimmed down the oversized Sex Pistols shirt she was wearing, obviously a dude’s. Not Maggie’s usual look. Her lips were swollen and her compulsively-smooth hair was mussed up like she’d just gotten something on her back besidessleep.
What the hell did I interrupt inthere?
I glanced over her shoulder but I couldn’t see shit, just the door to a bathroom. I shifted closer until we almost touched, leaning a shoulder on the doorframe.
“Who the fuck’s been sucking on your neck?” My gaze had snagged on the mark I was pretty sure was ahickey.
She made an exasperated, frustrated noise in her throat that made my balls pull uptight.
It was no secret, at least to my dick, that I wanted this woman. Unfortunately for me and my dick, I’d never gotten my hands on her for more than ahug.
Maggie and I were “co-workers” and “friends” and not supposed to “gothere.”
According toher.
“Zane,” she said extra-politely, “please take this in the nicest way possible, but you need to fuck off rightnow.”
I ignored that. Maggie told me to fuck off at least once a day.Justifiably.
We had that kind of relationship. I was comfortable enough to piss her off, she was comfortable enough to tell me to fuck off, and at the end of the day none of it mattered. Maggie and Iwerefriends. The kind that occasionally wanted to kill each other, butstill.
What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least make sure she wasn’t in there with someloser?
