Saving Savannah

“Oh I know my stuf—”

“Because if you’re dragging me all around Salem to end up in Murphy’s pub,” I teased, “just so you can get into my pants… well, I’ll have you know I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Oh yes you are,” Zane said smugly. “And I’ve already been in your pants.”

I laughed and nodded. “Point taken.”

He got up and made another round of my shop, taking everything in. In turn, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Zane was as tall and beautiful as I remembered, with wild, shoulder-length blond hair kissed by the October wind. His every movement was hypnotic. It was all I could do to pry my gaze from his perfect, bubble-shaped ass.

I’d sunk my fingernails into that ass. Clawed at it desperately, while he rolled his hips forward and pushed that much further inside me…

“What’s in the back room?”

“Nothing,” I said, rising to clean up the mess.

“Here goes nothing then,” he smiled, and ducked inside.

Ten seconds went by, then twenty. I dumped the trash and followed after him, wondering why he hadn’t come out yet.

“Anyway, I was jus—”

Two hands settled over my hips, pulling me forward with a sharp gasp. I wasn’t even through the doorway, and suddenly I was against him. My body molded snugly against his, as two big arms slid around me.

“Oh.”

Anything else I might’ve said was lost as his lips pressed hotly against mine. I was kissing him. He was kissing me. Our tongues danced slowly, sensually, like they’d been doing it all our lives. And our hands roamed with the intimacy and familiarity of two lovers who knew there were zero boundaries between them.

Damn…

His jacket hit the floor. So did my shirt. It happened simultaneously, reminding me of those experiments where scientists dropped two things in a vacuum to see them land at the same time.

Holy shit.

There was the quiet roar of a zipper. The jangle of a belt buckle. My hands found bare skin, and suddenly I was running my palms over the most perfect, beautiful set of abs in the entire universe.

And right now they were all mine.

“You have a bed back here, eh?”

Zane murmured the words into my mouth, jerking his nose toward my little bedroll. I nodded vaguely. One of my hands had moved south, slipping beneath the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans. I felt warmth down there. Hardness…

CRASH!

Thirteen

SAVANNAH

The noise was loud and obnoxious, followed by the high-pitched, unmistakable tinkle of shattered glass. Immediately our hands shot back to our sides again. Our bodies parted.

“What the—”

I hadn’t finished the sentence and my lover was already through the doorway. He hadn’t stopped to think, or talk, or wonder. He’d just acted.

“Zane, wait—”

I struggled back into my shirt and rushed out, straight into the center of my shop. One of my windows had been shattered inward, and there was glass everywhere. It was embedded in my new carpet. All over my freshly-polished floor.

And resting in the middle of all, a good-sized brick stared back at me mockingly.