His mouth feasted on hers, greedily swallowing up her gentle moan of pleasure as she matched his kiss, stroke for stroke, depth for depth. His body exulted in the feel of her against him, her breasts splayed against his chest, her heat against his sex. And still the kiss went on.
For an eternity.
Or longer.
It was almost unconscionable when she stiffened suddenly, lifting her palms to his chest, exerting some pressure.
As unpalatable as it was, he made himself release her. She stumbled back, cast around wildly and fluttered around her desk.
‘We can’t do that,’ she whispered. ‘Or...at least...we shouldn’t.’
As though she thought that the wooden workspace could somehow prove a barrier between them, but the fact that she was leaning on it, her hands pressing on it as though subconsciously testing how sturdy it might be, belied her words.
He took a step forward.
‘Why shouldn’t we? We both want it.’
‘Because someone might walk in.’ Her ponytail bounced from side to side in agitation, though her lack of denial spoke louder than anything.
He’d always got a kick out of that catch in her voice. Desire laced with a need to at least appear to be responsible.
‘Then we’ll close the blinds.’ He twisted the handle with a couple of deft flicks of his wrist.
Her breathing became a fraction shallower.
‘Then we hang the sign on the door.’ He flipped around the sign that warned people: Medical Examination in Progress—Do Not Disturb. ‘And finally, we lock the door.’
‘It...it doesn’t have a lock.’ She swallowed hard.
Zeke glanced around, spotted the hard-backed dining chair from the rec room and, spinning it around with one hand, wedged it under the door handle.
‘Consider it locked.’ He shrugged. ‘Any other concerns, Tia?’
She didn’t reply immediately, she simply stared at him with overly wide eyes from across the room.
He advanced on her, leisurely, no rush, giving her a chance to object even if he hoped she wouldn’t.
‘I told you, it’s Antonia.’ Her voice was thick, loaded. He recognised it only too well and it was like a stroke of her hand against the very hardest part of him.
‘Tia,’ he repeated easily.
But he didn’t know if he was still challenging her, or merely trying to remind her of who she had once been.
Who he had once been to her.
Another step, then another. And still she didn’t move. He might have thought she was rooted to the spot but for the faint twist of her body towards him. As though it knew what she wanted, even if her head didn’t.
Or was pretending not to.
‘Here’s your chance, Tia,’ he murmured, so close now he could have reached out and touched her.
He knew it was virtually killing her not to melt into him. Her desire was etched into every soft feature on her delicate face. Plus, he was barely staying in control himself. He ached to reach out and touch her with a need that was excruciating. The one thing he was gripping onto so tightly was the knowledge that it was even more excruciating for Tia.
Just as it deserved to be.
She flicked a tongue out over her lips, her voice little more than a whisper.
‘My chance?’