Celestial Desire(3)

By: Abbie Zanders

“No.” She shook her head. “I wish I could say I was, but I ate just before I met you here.” Zane wasn’t hungry either; he’d done the same thing.

They stood there for a solid minute, neither wanting to part quite so soon before Celeste took a breath and said, “I’ve got a Keurig at my place.”

Zane said a silent prayer of thanks that he knew what that was. His uncle had just gotten one, too.


“Yeah. If you’re still interested in coffee, that is.”

“I am.”

Celeste gave him a shy smile that lit him up on the inside. Without thinking, Zane reached out and captured her hand, interlocking their fingers. It was only after he felt the warmth and tingles extending up into his arm that he realized what he had done. The last time he had held a girl’s hand had been at the county fair in middle school, and coffee hadn’t been involved.

As good as it felt, he rationalized that the move had just been his finely-honed instincts kicking in, adjusting to the situation. She seemed as surprised as he did, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, after that initial hesitation, her fingers curled around his, perfecting the fit. Yes, Celeste was definitely the hand-holding type, and he was just being accomodating. His cock roused, agreeing whole-heartedly.

“Shall we?”

Her shy grin widened. “We shall.”

“Just moved, huh?” Zane looked around the near-empty space. It was the same layout as his uncle’s place, but seemed much bigger without anything in it. Except for a banquet-sized folding table holding what looked like various pieces of computer equipment and a rolling desk chair, the living space was bare.

“Yeah. Two days ago.”

That explained why he hadn’t seen her around before. “Computer geek? Or a fence dealing in stolen goods?”

“Definitely a geek,” she laughed over her shoulder, just as he’d intended. Sexy and likable, a devastating combination, that. “I guess I should get some furniture at some point, huh?”

“Furniture is good.” He watched as she filled the machine’s reservoir with bottled water. Standing behind her as he was, he could appreciate her shapely legs, the way her skirt clung to the rounded curves of her ass. His perusal continued upward, visually tracing the curve that slid inward at her waist before it broadened again beneath the soft-looking, lightweight sweater.

Suddenly, Zane’s interest in small-talk took a back seat to something much stronger.

* * *

Celeste turned around to find Zane right behind her, close enough to feel the scorching heat radiating from his body. She supposed she should have expected it; after all, she had invited him back to her place. To those well-versed in casual sex and meaningless hook-ups, the coffee invite was probably code for ‘do me’, the one-cup capacity of the Keurig synonymous with a one-night stand. Her over-analytical brain wondered absently what it would have meant if she had an old-fashioned percolator instead, forcing her to suppress a nervous giggle.

He shifted slightly, only the tiniest ripple of muscle and mass, but the movement made her catch her breath. Part of her felt afraid and wanted to step away; a larger, more insistent part wanted to close the several-inch gap separating them to see if he was really as tightly packed together as he looked.

“Celeste.” He whispered her name huskily before his head lowered and he brushed the softest of kisses across her lips. She might have moaned softly; she couldn’t be sure over the pounding of her heart or the roar of blood rushing through her veins.

Fear and excitement warred within her. Was she really going to do this? Could she suppress her natural inhibitions and have a meaningless fling based only upon carnal, physical pleasure? Granted, Zane was sexy and gorgeous and smelled amazing, and he certainly seemed like the kind of guy who would be very, very good at it, but…

Zane’s large hand skimmed down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her close against him. The feel of all that hot, hard, aroused male made it a no-brainer. She most definitely was going to do this, and she was going to enjoy every lubricous second of it.

* * *

Christ, that sound she made, he thought. He’d never heard a woman make a sound like that from such a chaste kiss; one breathless syllable that seemed to convey the same need and desire centered in his groin. He deepened the kiss; after only a moment’s prodding, she softened and opened for him.

Top Books