Off Limits

Dedication

To my Wet Noodle Posse, who give me the courage to try!

Chapter One

Zach Purser stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched the woman in the cream-colored dress move to the music, hips swaying, arms twisting sinuously over her head. A cascade of reddish-brown curls tumbled around her shoulders, hair he would love to bury his face in while he cupped her hips and drew her back against him. He’d always been an ass man.

His best friend Adam Clark joined him at the rail overlooking the dance floor. “Surprised you haven’t hit on anyone already. Or that someone hasn’t hit on you.”

Zach’s lips twisted. “I have my eye on one.”

“The blonde? Because she’s married.”

Right. Adam knew more of the people here than he did, since this was his brother Matt’s engagement party to J.R., the man he’d been dating for years. Something to celebrate, no doubt. Zach could respect their joy, the difficulties they’d overcome. Zach tended to avoid any difficulties if he could help it.

“Not the blonde, though, damn.” Great tits, and Zach had already pictured her naked and riding him.

“The little brunette? She’s a sweetheart but too young for you.”

“How young?” Zach scoped out the slender girl in the tight black dress, just in case.

“Twenty, I think. Maybe twenty-one.”

Definitely too young, too many romantic ideas. “No. The one with the great ass and the great hair.”

Adam chuckled. “Which one’s that?”

“The curls, the white dress.”

The chuckle died and Adam straightened. “You haven’t seen her face.”

Zach frowned. How did Adam know that? “No, but—”

Adam punched his arm, hard. “That’s my sister, asshole. Don’t even think about going near her. I know your MO. Got it?”

Just then, the object of his fantasy turned, still moving to the music, and he looked into the heart-shaped face of Paige Clark, who he’d known since he was in high school and she was in, what, fourth grade? He should feel dirty, lusting after his best friend’s sister, for the fantasies he’d already had about her. But damn, she’d grown up nice, that gorgeous hair he could already feel beneath his fingers, full breasts—ah, God—and those hips.

Adam punched his arm again, harder. “Quit thinking about it. Christ. She’s too good for you.”

No doubt. But yeah, Adam was right. Living out that fantasy would be beyond weird. Not like there weren’t other women, available and willing. But his attention was drawn to Paige, her sexy movements, her beautiful smile, and Jesus, that body.

She lifted her gaze and met his. He took a step back at the sultry curve of her mouth. Did she recognize him? Because, damn, that was the smile of a woman who wanted to get laid.

His best friend’s baby sister.

He braced his hands against the rail, then spun away. “Right. You know, maybe I’d better head out.”

Adam’s smile was tight. “No self-control?”

“Not really one to celebrate commitments, no matter what form.”

Adam shook his head. “And you wonder why I want you away from my sister.”

“Okay, so I’ll catch up with you later.” He turned and made his way through the crowd with a wave at Matt and J.R., edging past eligible women who just didn’t do it for him, not tonight.

“Hey, where you going?” A slender hand on his arm stopped Zach on his way out the door.

He looked down into the sloe eyes of Paige Clark. He commanded his attention to stay on her face, though had she always had that full mouth that he could imagine fulfilling his fantasies? And just on the edge of his vision, he could see the swell of her breasts.
Time to go
. Adam’s sister. His best friend for half his life.

“I can’t believe you were going to leave without saying hello.”

He turned to face her, forcing himself to be friendly, but keeping his guard up. He was unaccustomed to watching himself around women—the more outrageous he was, the more they liked it.

“Hello, Rage.”

She laughed, delighted at his teasing tone. “You would remember that.”

“You had more temper tantrums than anyone I knew before or since.”

“But now I’m all grown up.” She swept her hands down her sides.

At least he thought she did because he focused on her face. But not on her mouth. Too many wicked images came with that view. “You’re very lovely.”

“You look the same.” Something playful lurked beneath the smile that he wasn’t looking at.

“How long has it been? Five years?”

She cocked her hip, tilting her head so her hair tumbled over one shoulder. “Seven. I’m twenty-four now, graduated and working as a shopper, if you can believe it.”

He frowned. “You used to hate shopping.” That he remembered that about her surprised him.

“Because I couldn’t find anything that fit me.”

“You were a scrawny little thing.”

“I filled out.” Those sloe eyes dared him to see for himself.

He resisted. Barely. But the image of her moving on the dance floor was etched into his brain.

She tucked her hand in his. “Come dance with me.”

Not a good idea. He’d be touching her, at the very least watching her. Already he was doing everything in his power to stop his arousal. Those skills were rusty, because he always gave in. The reason Adam wanted him far away from Paige. “I need to go.”

“One dance.” She tugged his hand, and he took a step toward the dance floor, resisting the urge to search the room for Adam. She gave him a look that said she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

He could manage a short time in her arms, then never see her again. Who knew where they would be in another seven years? He squared his shoulders and nodded. She wriggled in delight and turned to haul him close, his hand tucked in the small of her back. Right above that gorgeous ass.

Once she’d found the spot she wanted, she turned to him, moving with such sensual grace that for a moment he froze in place. He was a good dancer—at least he’d been told—but for the life of him, he couldn’t make his body move as he watched her, the sway of her hair, the undulation of her spine, every movement making his imagination work overtime. She laughed and pushed at his chest, as if that would jumpstart him.

She turned her back on him, and that did the trick. Without thinking, he gripped her hips and drew her against him, moving into her. She shivered and looped her arms behind his neck.

Too late he realized his mistake. A hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around. He barely registered the cold anger on Adam’s face before the fist crashed into his eye.

Zach crossed the room to answer the doorbell and squinted through the peephole.
No way.
He debated opening the door, but his fingers had already made the decision, unhooking the safety latch. Yeah, the story of his life, his body making decisions before his brain could think it through.

He swung the door open and faced Paige, who stood in the hall, hands on her hips, her shapely body clad in low-riding jeans and a snug T-shirt. Her lips pursed in concern as she stepped through the door and touched his temple. He winced and ducked before she could touch the bruised flesh around his eye.

“I am so sorry.”

“He warned me to keep my hands off of you. I should have listened.”

“He’s being overprotective.”

“Rightly so. He knows me better than you do.”

That pretty mouth twisted as she inspected his bruise. “Did you put ice on it? Thank goodness you didn’t need stitches.”

It had bled plenty, but was only a small cut. “Chicks dig scars. And I had an ice pack in the freezer.”

“It still looks swollen to me.” She pushed past him into the apartment and hesitated before reasoning out where the kitchen was. “Have a seat.”

He heard the opening and closing of the freezer and followed her into the kitchen. He needed to get rid of her. If Adam knew she’d come over…

“How do you know where I live?”

She gave the ice pack a whack against the counter to loosen it up. “You’re easy enough to find. Now sit.” She motioned to the chair at the table.

Better here than in the living room, and if he obeyed, maybe she’d leave before he found himself in trouble. She pressed the pack to his temple, curving her hand around his cheek. The pack might be better placed on his crotch as he struggled not to look at the way the soft knit of her T-shirt gapped just a bit when she bent over.

“Maybe the question should be, why did you find me?”

“Because I felt terrible about Adam punching you. It’s my fault.”

“My fault.” He stretched his legs out in front of him with the intention of pushing her away. Okay, that wasn’t very comfortable. He folded them under the chair and wished for something to drop over his lap. “He gave me fair warning.”

“But I didn’t give you a choice.” She crouched beside him, her face angled up to him.

Not better.
His cock twitched at a wicked image that popped into his mind. “There’s another chair over there.”

“I know.”

“Paige, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why? Are you the big bad wolf?” She leaned forward and rested her palm on his chest, no doubt feeling the uptick of his heartbeat at her nearness.

“Very nearly. I thought Adam would have told you as much.”

“He told me you were no good for me. I think that’s a fine way to talk about his friend.”

“He’s right.”

“He’s not.” She shifted between his bent knees and tossed her wild curls over her shoulder.

He tried to pull his knees together, to push her away, but she placed her hand on his stomach, right above his fly. His cock refused to listen to reason—girl on knees, hand near fly—all bets were off. Even if she was his best friend’s sister.

“You should go.”

“You don’t really want me to.” She eased forward, edging his thighs farther apart. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Zach, and when I saw you there at the party, looking good enough to eat, when I saw the way you were looking at me, finally, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.”

His very last ounce of will allowed him to sit forward in his chair and grip her arms—soft, silky arms, damn it—and look into her eyes. “He’s my best friend. I can’t.”

“You can.” She trailed her finger down to tap on the top button of his jeans. “You want to so bad I can taste it.” She rolled the word “taste” around in her mouth, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the fresh surge of lust. “And what Adam doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I’ll know.” So this is why he was never noble. It was damned hard. “Paige. You need to go.”

Her smile was downright evil and made him harder than he’d thought possible. “No.” She unbuttoned the top button and nudged up the hem of his T-shirt just enough to trail a fingernail over the line of hair leading from his navel to the waistband of his boxer briefs. He couldn’t hold back the moan.

“My best friend,” he choked.

“I’ve wanted you to make love to me since I was fourteen years old, since I knew what it could feel like.”

Curiosity tugged at him. “How did you know what it could feel like?”

“Do you remember Chris Danvers?”

Anger rolled through him. He did indeed remember the little twit. “He touched you?”

“He kissed me until I was crazy. I figured the rest out for myself.”

The image of her touching herself made his mouth dry, and he dropped his head back, rubbing his hand over his good eye.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Her fingers slid under his T-shirt, traced his navel. “You want me to show you?”

Yes.
“No.” He captured her slender wrist before she could do more damage. With a mental groan, he scooted his chair back and stood, not releasing her wrist. “Sorry, Paige. You need to go.”

Wow. She had the puppy-dog eyes down. She withdrew from his grasp with a twist of her wrist. “You’re sure?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then.” She leaned over the counter and scribbled something on the pad by his phone. “My number if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

She swayed that gorgeous ass on the way to the hall, giving him all the time in the world to change his mind. He wouldn’t even let his thoughts go there.

But once she was out the door, he was down the hall to the bathroom to jack off, the image of her pretty mouth burned into his mind.

Masturbation didn’t stop the desire that pulsed through his blood. He didn’t go out that night, but did the next. Despite the club being packed to the rafters with beautiful women, not one was Paige. He’d thrown away her phone number to remove all traces of temptation, but none of the women he watched, none he danced with, aroused the same passion in him.

He got it—the lure of the forbidden. One of his favorite things. How often had he indulged in an act just because it was taboo? But none of his prior actions would have the implications of bringing Paige to his bed. God, he wanted to bring Paige to his bed.

And Adam would kill him dead.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adam demanded when, for the fourth night in a row, Zach walked out of a club with no female companionship.

“Not feeling it.”

Adam stared. “Have you ever gone this long without sex?”