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chick?”
    “No, that’s not it at all. Hell, you’re smart. Probably much smarter than I am. I’ve just never, well…”
    “So I’m a fascination to you?” He rested his chin gently on her panting stomach.
    The view between her breasts and down her stomach was all brows and dark eyes and oh, that soft hair. She ran her fingers through it. “You are a fascination. And I like to indulge my adventurous whims. Got a problem with that?”
    He thought about it. And she squeezed her thigh muscles to contain the waning flutters of desire. His shirt collar tickled her mons through the dress, and she was thankful she hadn’t worn panties.
    When his hand glided up her leg, over her knee, and between her thighs to land at the heat of her pussy, she didn’t need to hear his response. Nor did he give one. Instead, he bowed his head and put his tongue to better use. Slicking, gliding, sucking, and teasing her into a panting, wanting girl on fire.
    “But really.” All exquisite goodness focused on her clit suddenly ceased. Zac looked up again, a dash of dark hair had fallen across his forehead. “I’m not good enough for you, is that it? That’s why you didn’t want to do the date thing.”
    “You are thinking far too much, and veering down dangerous paths. I just want to have sex with you and not discuss the social implications of our hookup. Can you deal?”
    “Yes. I…right. I’m overthinking this. I have a tendency to organize and view from all angles…” He bowed his head, lush dark hair tickling her bared skin. “Sorry.”
    And Rachel sighed, falling down from the high of what had promised to be a sudden and explosive orgasm. He’d said sorry. That was the last word a girl wanted to hear in bed. Even if they weren’t officially in bed, just more sprawled on it in a furious race to the finish line. This time, the trace of his tongue over her folds didn’t quite stir the flame.
    They should have never talked. Damn it!
    She shuffled away from his tongue and sat up, bending her legs to sit and pushing the hair from her face. He was still fully dressed, and she…  Sometimes, she was so brazen. And, normally, she was okay with that. But right now, she pulled a pillow across her lap and leaned her breasts against it. A form of protection from the weird emotions jittering around inside her.
    “What did I do wrong?” he asked in the sweetest, little boy manner that made her want to pat him on the head—but she didn’t.
    “You asked questions,” she said plainly.
    He rolled to his back and blew out a breath, stretching out one arm to run down her leg and clasp the ankle. “Right. Too deep for a hookup. I get it. Sorry, normally I’m much better at this.”
    Another sorry. Aggh!
    “Stop apologizing for something that doesn’t require the sentiment.” Rachel raked her fingers through her long curls. “Maybe we should have left this in the elevator.”
    “No,” he said with conviction. “This is not an office hierarchy fascination thing for me, Rachel. I wanted you tonight because…” He rolled over onto his elbows and kissed her thigh. “I haven’t been able to get oranges out of my brain.”
    “What?”
    “You smell so good. I entirely expect to taste the tang of citrus when I lick your skin.”
    She used bergamot oil from a jar of preserved oranges. A drop behind each ear, at her elbows, and behind her knees—every morning and night. It was something her grandmother had taught her. She liked the fresh scent and being a little different than all the Chanel No. 5 fans.
    “Oranges and spice,” she said absently, feeling as though the conversation might blossom into an official, get-to-know-one-another talk, and so not wanting that. Too soon. Too intimate. Too much.
    Especially for a hookup.
    Zac’s cell phone rang. Rachel sighed, dropping her shoulders. “I’ll let you get that. The mood is spoiled.”
    “It is—sorry.”
    And yet another sorry. Twisting her legs off the bed, she pulled up