She blew out a frustrated breath that lifted her bangs. She so didn’t need this. His body heat was already doing a number on her libido. And having to look at that—at something she’d swear was photoshopped if she wasn’t staring at it in the flesh? So not what she deserved right now.

Escape. She needed to think about getting away from him before things got out of control.

She looked back down at the plastic zip tie around her wrist and twisted until pain shot up her arm for the hundredth time. Fucking Archer . . .

A thought hit, and she glanced toward the nightstand. It was a long shot, considering this was a rental, but maybe the last person who’d stayed here had left something in the top drawer that would help her.

She tried the one on her side of the bed first, reaching carefully away with her free arm so as not to rouse him. When she found the drawer empty, she sighed in disappointment, then scooted back to the middle of the bed. She glanced past him toward the nightstand on his side. One look told her he was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. She bit her lip, slowly—carefully—rolled onto her side, and pushed her weight on one knee.

Her hand, connected to his, landed against the mattress down by her leg. She couldn’t lift it any higher for fear of waking him. Balancing her weight on one knee and wrist, she slowly straddled his hips, then pressed her other hand against the pillow near his head.

That heat intensified, and his scent drifted in, making her light-headed, reminding her of the dozens of other times she’d straddled him like this. In the middle of the night. Silent so Carter wouldn’t hear them. Naked.

She closed her eyes and fought back the wicked burst of arousal coursing through her veins. Escape. She needed to focus on escaping and not the X-rated sex she suddenly wanted to have with the man between her legs.

Quietly, she reached for the drawer on the nightstand. Her fingertips grazed the knob, but she couldn’t quite pull it open. Gritting her teeth, she shifted her weight to the knee closer to the side of the bed and leaned a little more.

Her fingers wrapped around the drawer, and she tugged it open. The wood creaked, and she stilled, holding her breath as she looked down to see if it had awoken him. But his eyes were still tightly shut, his head still tipped away, and his chest still rose and fell with his deep breaths.

Relaxing, she reached inside the drawer and felt around. Then cursed her stupid luck when she found the drawer empty.

This so wasn’t her day. Wasn’t her year either, apparently.

Frustrated, she closed the drawer and then shifted her hand back to the mattress and looked down at Zane. Just her luck he was hotter than he’d ever been. The bastard. She didn’t doubt he’d gotten better looking on purpose, just to irritate her.

She shifted to push off him, when she felt something hard in the pocket of his jeans. Curious, she leaned her weight back on her knees and placed her free hand over the object. Then nearly jumped for joy when she realized it was a pocketknife.

Her pulse sped up. Maybe her luck wasn’t so bad after all.

Watching his face, she leaned forward and slid her fingertips into his pocket, moving slowly. When he grunted and rolled his head to the other direction, Eve went still as stone. Her heart hammered hard while she waited to see what he’d do. Long seconds passed, and his breathing lengthened once more. Blowing out a breath of relief, she slid her hand deeper into his pocket and wrapped her fingers around the metal object.

His hand landing against her bare thigh stopped her cold. “Hm. Like that.”

Adrenaline pumped through her body, and perspiration broke out on her forehead. She pulled her hand free of his pocket and placed it back on the pillow next to his head. “Um . . . I . . .” She swallowed. “I was just . . .”

His other hand—the one still joined with hers—landed against her other thigh. And heat sparked from the spot and spread straight between her legs.

“Mm . . .” He wrapped his big hands around her hips and squeezed, then forcefully dragged her down to meet his body. “Was dreaming about this.”

Oh holy hell. He was hot. And fully aroused. She bit her lip and reached for his hands to try to pry them away. But they were like steel, holding her in place. Then he lifted his hips and rubbed that massive erection across her already-swollen clit, and pleasure ripped through her pelvis and sent a shudder through her entire body.

Her eyes slid closed. She groaned. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from arching into him. His free hand slid up to her breast and squeezed. And she felt all common sense slipping away. Felt her resistance wavering with every rub and tug and sinful grind.

This was why she needed to get away from him. Not just for his own damn safety, but because when she was close to him, she couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t rationalize things. And when he touched her like he’d done before, like—God help her—he was doing now, she lost all ability to focus on the job at hand and gave in to temptation.

“Mm . . .” he mumbled as he pressed himself against her. “Want to taste you.”

Oh God. She wanted that too. Knew she shouldn’t but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

Her body fell forward. Her weight landed on her hand near his head. The movement caused his heavenly erection to press against her clit from a new angle, sending tiny sparks of electricity all through her lower body. His free hand slid from her breast, up her neck, and into her hair. Then his fingers tightened on her scalp, and he dragged her mouth to his.

His tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth. Slick. Hot. So very wet. She opened for him, drew him deeper. His plump, scrumptious lips moved over hers just like she remembered. His tongue flicked again and again, tasting her everywhere. Between her legs, he lifted and lowered, mimicking what he was doing to her mouth with his tongue. What she desperately wanted him to do to her body with his hard, thick cock.

“Zane . . .” she mouthed against him.

His other hand slid across her lower back, dragging her arm with it, and she found herself trapped—one hand locked behind her and one barely holding her up. But she suddenly didn’t care. She was teetering on the edge of losing control. And it felt good. So incredibly good after all her carefully constructed years of never losing her cool. Of never letting anyone tempt her. Of never giving herself over completely.

His palm spread, and he pushed down against her while lifting his hips at the same time. His thick erection rubbed again and again at the growing wetness between her legs.

“Want you,” he mumbled. “Don’t want to wait.”

She didn’t want to wait either. She’d forgotten how good he tasted. How heavenly he felt. How he could light her up with just one wicked touch. One stolen kiss. One forbidden brush of skin against sweaty skin.

“I . . . Zane . . .”

She couldn’t hold back any longer. She gave in and kissed him, licked into his mouth, and ground herself against him. And he groaned against her lips, tightened his arm around her back, and lifted until sweet, heavenly pleasure streaked down her spine. She pulled her mouth from his and moaned. And oh, she was close. So close. If he just rubbed a little more, right there . . .

“Shh,” he mouthed against her lips. “Don’t want to . . . wake Carter.”

Her stomach tightened, and between her legs, the sparks sputtered. She glanced down at his half-lidded eyes and the dazed look and realized that he was dreaming. Caught in that semiconscious drugged state when your body reacts but your mind hasn’t quite caught up. He didn’t know this was happening now. He was reliving something they’d done a dozen times in the middle of the night back then.

The heat in her veins iced. He rubbed against her, groaned into her neck. His hot breath washed over her skin, but the pleasure was gone for her, replaced with a tingly prickling feeling that exploded all along her back. One she didn’t like.

The need to run overwhelmed her. This time not for his safety, but her own. She was in too deep with him. Losing not only her common sense, but her identity—everything that mattered. The longer she stayed with him, the harder it would be for her to pull away. And she needed to pull away now, because he clearly wasn’t feeling anything for her like she’d stupidly been feeling for him. And that made her the biggest fool of all.

She lifted her arm from the mattress and scooted back, just enough so she could reach into his pocket. His cock was hard against her fingers, and she swallowed, even as he ground that erection against her clit again. Tiny threads of arousal speared through her, tempting her all over again, but she fought them. Pulling her hand free, she quietly rejoiced when she drew out the pocketknife and her key to freedom.

“Juliet . . .”

He groaned. Lifted against her. And Eve bit her lip to keep from crying out when those sparks flared hot and wild all over again, arcing pleasure right back through her pelvis.

She shouldn’t . . .

Her body fell forward; her weight perched on her closed fist as she tried not to rub against him.

She couldn’t . . .

His lips brushed her neck. His free hand found her breast. Desire shot straight to her core.

Oh God, but she wanted . . .

“Zane . . .”

That haze of arousal was washing everything away again, dragging her back down. Telling her it was okay to let go. Just a few more seconds. Just for a minute . . .