Page 80 of Turn Me On

When I was in my twenties and tried the hookup scene, that turned me off the most. The over-and-out of it all. That’s why I curbed hookups years ago.

But tonight is awkward for other reasons.

Namely, my galloping heart, with its echoing drumbeat askingwhat’s next. When Zane collapses onto me, his big, broad chest covering mine, I want to stroke his hair and ask that damn revealing question.

I press my lips together so I don’t speak a word.

When I close my eyes, a pair of lips sweep my collarbone. Strong fingers graze down my arm. “You were fucking incredible,” he murmurs.

My heart pounds and words escape me anyway: “You were.”

I open my eyes as he shakes his head against my chest. “Wewere,” he says.

I look away, so he can’t see what he’s doing to me. I try to chase off the wild horses in my heart.

Focus on reality.Ask him to untie you now.

But Zane’s faster than my mind. He moves in a flash. He’s up, taking off the condom, then pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Let me ditch this and I’ll be right back to untie you, Mad.”

While he’s in the bathroom, I try not to dwell on the uncomfortableness of post sex. That’s easy enough when he returns with a generous grin that eases my nerves and a wet washcloth that’ll remove the evidence. He swipes it down my stomach, then unties me. Once I’m free, he massages my wrists tenderly. When he takes the towel to the bathroom, I sit up. I should get dressed. I need to do something. To get busy. Look at my phone. Or suggest some food. Or just lay down the expectations. I should—

—I’m tackled.

The fucking athlete has tackled me, pulling me back onto the bed.

My stupid heart thunders as he tugs me toward him.

“Kiss me,” Zane says softly, then he pulls me on top of him, lifting his hands above his head.

That’s surprising, and it’s a suggestion as clear as the ones I’ve given him.

Zane doesn’t want to be topped. I know that. But I know, too, that sometimes he wants reassurance from me, whether we’re in bed or negotiations. And sometimes he wants me to lead.

Good thing I want the same right now.

I grip his wrists, then indulge in a deep, intimate after-sex kiss. Enjoying, too, this moment to take back control. To lead the kiss. Mostly, enjoying that he knew I’d want this kind of a kiss.

Then I let go and flop down on the pillow. “Want to shower?” I suggest.

“Yes,” he says on a soft murmur, andthere.

That’s what’s next.

And that’s another reason this isn’t a hookup whatsoever. Showering together is intimate.

A minute later, we’re in the dimly lit shower. Under the water, he hands me the soap. I wash off and he does the same, but that awkward feeling cloaks me again.

Now that we’ve slept together, where do we go? How do I act when I see Zane and Priyam for dinner? How do I talk to Vance about Zane? Will I be imagining our intimacy every time Zane’s name arises?

Well, yeah.

I turn around, lift my face to the stream of water, and close my eyes, trying to figure out how to navigate my job now that I’ve crossed this line.

When Zane’s hands slip around my waist, and his chin rests on my shoulder, my attention resets to him. Then, he asks, “Do you ever want to top me?”

Laughter bursts from my chest. The question is preposterous. I turn around. “I thought we talked about this?”

He shrugs, a little innocently. “I was just asking.”