palms. So hot, so possessive, she wondered how it didn’t melt her leather skirt.
“Who are you?” Her voice sounded breathy and was already thickening with arousal. Juices gathered along the folds of her pussy and leaked out to wet her panties. Her mind scrambled, trying to place him, trying to make sense of the riot of sensations his tenderly simple touch was sending ricocheting through her system. Was he one of the people who had been casting those shadows in the hall?
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
That voice came from her left and was decidedly female. Georgia Cooper.
“Train your senses. Focus. You’ll figure it out,” Mustang Ducote told her without an ounce of the amusement she had heard in Georgia’s tone.
Danica took a deep breath and concentrated. The sound of his footfalls hadn’t done her any good. The brush of his shoulder as he had walked around her and the angle of his forearms now with his hands on her hips told her he was taller than she. It still didn’t do her any good.
But the breath she had taken, the scent she had inhaled, she knew that scent. If only she could place it.
“Think, Danica,” Mustang encouraged her.
Danica’s mind reeled. Hadn’t they told her not to think, to center her focus on her other senses?
Her mind latched onto something. A memory? But, just when she thought she might make sense of it, she felt more heat at her back, another presence that sent her mind scrambling again.
* * * *
Christ, she’s fabulous.
Zane hung back in the doorway of the living room and let Lowell make his move. He watched his friend circle the woman he had waited the last five long years to see again. In that moment, he witnessed more emotions in the man’s eyes than Zane had seen in him the entire time he had known Lowell.
For the first time since he had fallen for her, too, Zane considered walking away. She had belonged to Lowell first. They shared nearly a lifetime of history, even if the latter part had been wrought with hatred and sadness. Zane didn’t doubt Lowell and Danica would find their way back to one another again, and what was happening now was definitely the first step.
His heart struck up a battle with his mind and cock as he took a moment to study her. Everything about her stirred the blood in his cock until he had a hard-on so stiff it strained against the confines of his slacks. Lowell had showed him headshots of her, but he hadn’t seen a full-body view. It was nothing short of arresting. She was unlike any woman he had ever found attractive. He usually went for blondes, petite with hourglass figures, deep bronzed skin, and not an ounce of extra weight in sight.
Danica was as far from that mold as a woman could get. She had legs, mile long and shapely ones that made his tongue pulse to lick from the toes he couldn’t yet see to the apex of her amazing thighs. Her hips were made for a man to hold on tight while she straddled his waist with those stupendous stems and rode his cock to oblivion.
His heart rate climbed with his gaze as he skimmed his attention up her back. Ebony hair fell like a curtain, tapering into a V that touched the waistband of her leather skirt. The thin purple straps of her camisole peeked between strands of her hair, lovingly hugging her delicate shoulders.
His gaze didn’t make it to the back of her head. It started to, but got caught by the expression of sheer torture on Lowell’s face and the plea in the man’s eyes.
He doesn’t want me to walk away.
It helped realizing that. Zane hadn’t wanted to, but he would have tried for his friend. Instead, he took small, soft steps toward Danica and watched as what he could only define as relief swept through Lowell’s eyes.
Zane knew when she sensed him behind her. He caught her short, startled intake of breath, and saw her turn her head slightly. The move afforded him a peek of the narrow purple streak breaking through her ebony hair that began at the roots behind her