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Rachel arched her back in response to Zane’s touch. She didn’t stop him from pulling her blouse out of the protection of her skirt. His hot hands slid under her top and cupped her lace-covered breasts. She inhaled sharply.
As Zane kneaded and squeezed the flesh filling her bra, a deep guttural groan escaped from the depths of his throat.
Rachel felt her resistance weaken. All of her determined self-control was slowly ebbing. Her eager hands touched up and down Zane’s muscular chest, feeling the strained muscles under her palms, feeling his manliness engulf her senses.
Her promise to herself was draining, draining, draining out of her brain. The exhilarating manly taste of him was obliterating, destroying, shattering the iron shield she’d created for two long years.
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