Page 109 of Irresistibly Wicked

She threw in hip dips, then hooked one leg behind the pole, launching into a back-hook spin, momentum carrying her around the pole in a graceful sweep. It wasn’t flawless as her feet touched the floor, but the look on Zander’s face told her it didn’t matter one damn bit. She sank down on her knees, facing him, then grabbed the bar behind her and went up on her toes, bringing her body parallel to the floor, and undulated her hips.

“Fuuck.” He grabbed his groin, adjusting himself. His gaze was volcanic, his body wound tight, like she was fire and one more move might set him ablaze.

Burn, baby, burn. She rose to her feet, one hand on the pole, and wound her legs like a clock in a fan kick. Her hair whipped over her shoulder as she twirled around the pole again, hooked one knee around it, and leaned back, arching as her hand traced the line of her own thigh, then pulled herself upright with a twist that brought her face-to-face with his hungry stare. Heat rushed through her, and he charged forward, lifting her into his arms like a Neanderthal claiming his prey.

She laughed. “I was just warming up.”

“You get any hotter and the whole fucking house will go up in flames.” He headed down the hall to their bedroom.

“But I didn’t get to finish.”

“You’ll finish all right. Several times.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

WAKEFULNESS DRIFTED IN as soft and welcoming as the ocean breeze shifting the curtains and the sunlight sprinkling through them. Shauna inhaled the sea air and stretched across the empty bed, curling her arm around Kitty, who was fast asleep on Zander’s pillow, and nuzzled in. “Good morning, baby girl. Looks like your daddy slipped out earlier than usual.” She closed her eyes, homing in on the faint sounds coming from the kitchen, and smiled. It was July fourth, her twenty-fifth birthday, and her heart was happy.

There was a time when she hadn’t been sure she’d make it to eighteen, much less twenty-five. When she and Brian had run away with nothing but fear and the promise of freedom ahead of them, she’d had big dreams of a better life. But there were so many times she’d questioned their ability to keep themselves safe. Years of blurry days and incoherent nights when she’d held Brian up or had nearly drowned herself right alongside him.

But she’d made it to twenty-five, sober, happy, with a job she loved, a temporary husband she was trying not to fall for, and more friends than she’d ever dreamed of having.

As she rolled onto her back, the bracelet Cap had given her slid down her wrist. She touched the charm, and her heart squeezed. She’d been devastated when she’d thought it was gone forever, swallowed by the riptide of her life.

Zander had saved her from that riptide, just as he’d unknowingly given her a lifeline on this very day, five years ago. She’d like to believe she’d given him a lifeline, too, the day she’d pulled him from his burning car. She knew it wasn’t the same. He’d given her a home, a family, friends. He’d made space for her without any limitations or expectations. He made her laugh when she thought she’d forgotten how. And God help her, she loved falling asleep in his strong arms, his heart beating sure and steady against her cheek. She loved the way he smelled, the way he touched her, the way he could go from joking to lustful or serious in the blink of an eye. But the biggest thing he’d given her was the safety to trust. She’d kept her circle small because trust had always felt like a weakness, a crack someone could pry open and use against her. She’d been thinking about that a lot lately. Her parents had never trusted anyone. That was part of addiction, hiding their secrets. She’d learned to hide hers and had lived in that tiny, untrusting world she’d created even after she’d clawed her way to sobriety. Then Zander came into her life again and showed her that trust could be a strength, and allowing people in could enrich her life, not upend it.

But this magical world he’d brought her into, this pretend life they were creating together, was coming to an end. In two short weeks Brian would be home, and she’d move back to their cottage. She missed him like crazy, and she couldn’t wait to see him, but she was also nervous. They had a long road ahead, and she knew they’d make it through. Brian was her real family, her first best friend, and for most of her life, her only anchor. Now she wondered if a person could have two anchors. Two very different best friends? Brian owned a big part of her heart, but she feared the rest of it was no longer hers alone. She’d tried to keep some semblance of walls around herself these past few months, but Zander had been chipping away at them without even trying, and in doing so, he’d not only claimed a big part of her heart, but he’d also helped her find herself.

They may not be meant for forever, but she’d always have the stronger, happier woman she’d become with him. Hopefully that would be enough to start shoring up her walls again, because if she fell any harder for Zander, she’d never be able to walk away.

She heard the floor creak and glanced toward the open bedroom door, picking up the faint smell of paint. They’d finished painting the living room two weeks ago, but once it was done, the hallway had looked dingy, so they’d painted that. She smiled, remembering the chaos of rollers and laughter, of Zander stripping her naked and pinning her against the wall, leaving butt prints that he refused to let her smooth over. Conversation starters. Since then, he’d thrown himself into a big renovation project at work. He’d been working later in the evenings, and she’d taken a stab at cooking and having dinner ready a few times, thanks to her cooking lessons with Reba and the girls over the past few weeks. Zander was always appreciative, even on the nights she’d burned their meals.

His voice floated in from the hallway as he sang, “Happy birthday to my Angel. Happy birthday to my wife.” He appeared in the doorway wearing a sexy grin, black boxer briefs, and a tool belt with a can of whipped cream in the hammer holder, utensils and napkins in one pocket, and a jar of maple syrup in another, and carrying a plate of pancakes and a steaming mug of coffee. “Happy birthday, you sexy thing. Thanks for letting me share your life.”

So much for shoring up those walls. She melted like chocolate in the sun as he set down the plate and mug, then leaned down and kissed her, sending Kitty scampering to the floor.

“Happy twenty-fifth, darlin’.”

He was hands-down the swooniest man on the planet. “This looks amazing. Thank you. I’ve never had breakfast in bed.”

He smirked. “We both know that’s not true.”

“I meant food,” she said with a laugh.

She leaned forward to snag the whipped cream from his tool belt, but he grabbed it first with a devilish spark in his eyes and said, “Back off, birthday girl.” He emptied the tool belt onto the nightstand, put a dollop of whipped cream on her pancakes, and unhooked his tool belt, dropping it to the floor. “The rest is for the other half of your birthday present, and my breakfast.”

He threw the covers back, and she laughed. “That pretty little tank top has to go.” He waved the can of whipped cream. “Go on, now. Take it off.”

“Bossy.” She took it off and threw it at him.

He caught it and said, “This’ll do nicely.”

“Do…?”

A slow grin slid into place as he straddled her. He set the can of whipped cream beside them on the mattress, still holding her tank top, and said, “Give me your wrists, darlin’.”

Her nerves caught fire with his titillating request, but she wanted to explore with him. She held out her wrists. He took her left hand in his, holding her gaze as he pressed a kiss over her wedding ring, then proceeded to wrap the tank top around her wrists. She swallowed hard as he secured it with a knot.

“Trust looks beautiful on you.”