Zander drops me off at the side of the lodge and parks the UTV.
He walks in by himself and goes up into his honeymoon suite.
I follow ten minutes later.
It’s the longest ten minutes of my life.
We could barely stop kissing in the UTV, and now as I stand on the side of the building, watching the time tick down on my phone, all I can feel are his hands and lips on me.
Finally, the ten minutes pass, and I walk around and up the steps, trying to act as if I’m not on my way to have sex. My saving grace is that my mom isn’t here. And the staff are distracted by the crew loitering around the reception area. I slide right by them, and once I turn the corner to the stairs up to the rooms, I finally breathe.
I tiptoe up the stairs, peeking around the corners like some stealthy hitwoman. Thankfully, the hallway carpet muffles the sound of my boots.
When I reach his door, I hesitate. I look down at what I’m wearing, pull at my sweater and smooth out my hair, wishing I was dressed up rather than in jeans and a sweater.
The door opens, and a hand grabs my arm, pulling me into the room. Zander shuts it and cages me against the back of the door in one fluid motion. I did always love his moves.
“You’re wasting time out there.” He steps up to me, leaving one hand plastered above me against the door and the other holding my hip.
“Who says?”
“You will be once I’m done with you.”
“You sure are doing a lot of talking.” I set my hands on my hips, trying to be cool when I really want to jump him.
He laughs and leans in closer, his breath feathering my cheek. “Tell me what you want, Romy,” he whispers.
Goose bumps scatter up my spine. “You’re such a cocky bastard.”
My fingers curl into his T-shirt, and I pull him toward me, lips locking with his. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, stealing my breath and every ounce of self-control I naïvely thought I’d come here with. He breaks away from our kiss long enough to drag his T-shirt over his head.
My gaze traces his broad shoulders, muscled chest, and the trail of hair that leads down past the waist of his jeans.
Zander smirks when he catches me staring. “See something you like?”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip as if I can play the role of sex kitten.
His hand skims under my sweater, his palm hot against my stomach. “I want to get one thing clear before we continue.” His fingers bend, and he cradles my stomach.
“Zan,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “I want to be clear about something.” There’s conviction in his voice, so I lift the hem of my sweater and cover his hand with mine. “I’m not doing this because of him or her. I went to you tonight because I want you.”
I tighten my hand over his. “Thank you for telling me.” I lean forward to kiss him, but he dodges my lips.
“I want to be sure you understand.”
I chuckle. “I do. The baby is just a bonus.”
“Yeah, just a bonus.” He kisses me again, both of us losing ourselves once more.
We close the kiss and heave for a breath.
He lowers his forehead to press against mine. “You’re overdressed.”
“Am I now?”
He inches up my sweater, and I lift my arms, letting him pull it over my head. His gaze drops to my bra, and his tongue slides along his bottom lip.
