The moan of creaking wood above her slowed her progress. Either Zander was home, or her stalker was waiting for her.
“Hello?” she called, willing her voice not to shake.
Zander stepped into the stairwell and her worry fled.
“Hey angel. How was work?”
“Fine. You know, the usual boring Saturday.” She didn’t think it was wise to mention the extracurricular trip to the police station.
He waited by her door, seeming on edge, almost anticipatory. Her pace slowed further and a shadow of unease crept into the back of her mind. He could have easily placed the ribbon in her coat pocket last night.
She shook her head. Stress was making her paranoid. She knew without a doubt Zander wouldn’t stalk her He was probably waiting for her to get home in order to talk her into another insane idea. Reaching the top step, she skirted him and slid her key into the deadbolt. He followed her and she turned to face him, sandwiched between the door and his body.
There were worse places to be.
His chestnut hair hung loose today and she imagined sliding her fingers through the silky strands. She met his gaze and his focused concentration held her immobile.
Without warning, he lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips across hers and again with more purpose when she didn’t resist. Warm and firm, his mouth moved over hers coaxing and caressing.
Her pulse beat like hummingbird wings against her throat and she lifted her hands to his chest. Heat rose from his body, along with the subtle scent of soap and something that was entirely Zander.
Zander. She was kissing Zander. Why was she kissing Zander? Slowly, he raised his head and Tessa took a great gulp of air.
Rational thought returned without the distraction of his lips against hers. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.
He grinned and she tried not to let her bones melt at the sight of it.
“Desensitization therapy. The answer to our problem.”
“What?” She blinked, trying to get her mind to catch up with her mouth. “What problem? What are you talking about?”
“When a client has an aversion to something, often a therapist will introduce the stimulus in small increments until the client becomes comfortable. Desensitized. The increments increase until the aversion no longer exists.”
“Are you insane?” she snapped. She wasn’t as angry with him as she was with herself. She’d wanted more. Even now, her body tried to betray her by inching closer to him. She leaned back. “So you’re planning to spend the next twenty-four hours kissing me until I don’t jump when you touch me?”
“That was the plan.” He was serious.
Shaking her head, she turned from him and finished unlocking her door. “On what planet could this possibly be a good idea?”
“On this one.” She heard the smile in his voice. With gentle hands, Zander turned her to face him again. He lowered his head buy his eyes remained locked on hers, like deep green beacons, leading her toward shore. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to control her rapid breathing. Cupping her cheek, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. That simple touch made her want so much more.
He slid his fingers into her hair and tenderly angled her face up. “So beautiful,” he murmured as if unaware he spoke.
It was all Tessa could do not to close her eyes and lean into his hand. She inhaled deeply, drawing him in. His husky voice caressed her senses and her stomach tightened in anticipation.
She should walk away from him. Away from the danger he posed. Her body refused to obey. Instead, it waited motionless for Zander to make his next move. Silently begging him to touch her.
Still holding her gaze, he leaned forward, giving her every opportunity to back away but she couldn’t. He hovered a fraction of an inch from her lips and his warm breath feathered across her skin. Expectation built, a palpable force in her middle.
He took her mouth, softly searching. Teasing. Tasting. Gentle but insistent. She responded, pressing into his kiss, wanting to push herself against his body.
He raised his other hand and skimmed the side of her neck. The kiss grew more insistent, deeper and she opened beneath his touch.
At the stroke of her tongue, he broke away, his eyes glittering darkly. She wondered if he was as affected as she was. Just as quickly, his expression changed and he straightened and grinned.
Obviously not. But why should he be? Compared to his usual dates, she was as bland as they came. Vanilla.
He called her angel as if he meant it. As if he actually thought she was pure and innocent. Generally, he treated her like she ought to be standing on a pedestal. But this kiss...for a moment, she felt as though he truly wanted her. She felt like something other than his virtuous neighbor. Something more than a friend. Someone he could be interested in.
She pulled the brakes on that particular train of thought. Having Zander interested in her was the last thing she wanted. He was her friend, a serial dater and worst of all, a threat to her self-control. She needed to remind herself of that every chance she got. Otherwise, she’d be in over her head before she knew it.
“So what do you think?” he asked. He stared at her through heavy-lidded eyes looking as though he’d just woken up. It was a good look.
Thinking clearly had suddenly become more difficult and heat curled low in her belly. “Of the kiss?”
He smirked. “I was referring to the plan but we can talk about the kiss if you want.”
“Jerk.” She turned away and pushed open the door, not wanting him to see the blush that crept over her skin.
He followed her into the living room and flopped on the couch, legs wide, arm draped across the back. The poster boy for casual sex. He sat silently, watching her pace.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t look any different than he usually did. He wore his weekend uniform—worn jeans and a t-shirt. Both fit his body like original sin. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. But her awareness was acutely sharpened, all because he decided to dabble with behavioral theory.
So he kissed her. He was her friend. If it helped him keep his job, it wasn’t that big a deal. Right? It wasn’t like she was going to sleep with him. Besides, judging from his reaction when she’d returned his kiss, he obviously wasn’t as attracted to her as she was to him. Maybe she’d been misreading his signals all along. What she had assumed were mutual undercurrents of desire was nothing more than her wishful thinking.
This was exactly what it appeared to be. One friend doing a favor for another friend. Wasn’t it just last night that she thought pretending to be his lover would allow her to satisfy her curiosity without the messiness of a relationship? Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? Her attraction to him made the situation far more complicated than it needed to be.
