“She’s a beautiful woman, obviously.”
“Maybe not as discerning as she should be, though.” Gemma shrugged. “But it never stops her from trying to find that forever man again.”
Her mistakes have now stopped you from trying at all, Boone realized, and worried that the one who came along for her would have to go an extra few miles to conquer Gemma’s distrust.
If she let Boone stick around, however, maybe he could be there to help see that happen. Give Mr. Right a little strategic advice when the time came. Don’t walk away. Do whatever you must to earn her faith in your staying power.
He ignored the roiling in his belly at the idea of her with someone else and told himself he’d do it regardless. Of course he’d do it, anything to ensure Gemma’s happiness.
“Husband Number Two worked nights,” she said now, and pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders. “He had no problem with my mom going out on afternoon errands while he kept an eye on me. Sometimes we’d even play games together, like hide-and-go-seek.”
“Shit,” Boone said, already guessing where this was going.
She grimaced. “He said he didn’t mean to forget about me, but the phone call he received was from a buddy he hadn’t heard from in a long time. And the truth is, I should have known better than to hide in the old empty hope chest in the spare bedroom.”
“You were six.” He forced his arms to his sides instead of reaching out and hauling her against him. “How long were you inside it?”
“A while. Long enough to wet myself, which made it all the more upsetting.” Drawing her heels up on the couch, she pressed her face to her knees. “I think it was ninety minutes or so. Something like that.”
Ninety minutes? A spiked heat rose from the depths of Boone’s belly to the center of his chest. His fingers curled into his palms, but he tucked his fists under his arms to conceal the indication of his rising rage. It infuriated him, imagining a little girl, afraid, alone, needing somebody to find her. No wonder she didn’t trust men.
“It was dark when my mom got home,” Gemma continued, her voice muffled. “And she didn’t waste any time looking for me, but when she opened the lid of the chest I was a…mess.” Lifting her head, she tucked her disheveled hair behind her ears. Then her gaze landed on his face and her brows drew together. “Boone?”
“Yeah?” he said, his voice gruff.
“What’s the matter?”
His chest felt weighty with the dark, heated emotion gathering inside of it. “Give me a minute.”
Her expression worried, she shifted to kneel on the couch. Then she scooted toward him, even as he held up a hand to ward her off. “Keep your distance, baby.”
She paused. “You…you look a little mean.”
“I feel a little mean,” he ground out. Then he shook himself like a dog, trying to displace his sharp-edged temper. “It’s just that I can’t stand thinking of you like that. That some man could cause you so much fright…” Words failed him.
“You look capable of punching someone.”
He tried to smile, but the attempt felt as if it cracked his jaw bones. “I feel capable of punching someone.” Forcing in a breath, he closed his eyes and willed his shoulders to relax. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She hesitated, then her voice lowered. “It kind of turns me on.”
His eyes flew open, his muscles tensing all over again. “What?” Surely—
“It kind of turns me on,” Gemma repeated, with the hint of a self-conscious smile hovering around her mouth.
He groaned. “Don’t say things like that.”
She knee-walked closer. “Why not? It’s the truth. To have a big, sexy man looking ready to take a swing on my behalf…” Her face flushed and her dark pupils expanded, leaving only a ring of pale blue surrounding each of them. “It makes me feel safe.”
His cock was hard already, pressing insistently against his jeans, almost as desperate as he felt when she had that look on her face. “That’s not very, uh, enlightened of you.”
“Yes.” Gemma drew closer. “But I’m not feeling very enlightened at the moment. I feel…on fire.”
Boone’s head fell back and he scrambled to think of a way out of where this was going. “Sex should be an expression of respect and it should relay, um, something about commitment, um…and be symbolic of partnership and…” He gave up trying to make any sense as Gemma crawled on top of him.
Automatically his hands cupped her hips, cradled them.
“Is that what you were trying to tell me the other night in bed—that you respect me?” She sounded amused now.
He swallowed and tried again. “Gemma. Really. Sex should be an expression of respect and relay—”
“What if I just want an orgasm?”
“Oh, God.” Who else might hear his appeal and take pity on him? Not Gemma.
Somehow his legs were stretched full-length on the cushions, and she sat up now, her weight on his stomach as her hands went to the hem of her stretchy shirt so she could draw it off. He sucked in a deep breath, a swimmer about to go down, and then he lost all thought of survival as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. It slid out of her fingers, but he’d already jackknifed up to take one stiff nipple in his mouth, his voracious need for her shoving all common sense out of his head.
He sucked hard, then harder as she moaned and pressed herself closer to him. One of his hands clutched her hip and the other shaped her free breast, his thumb finding the tip to toy gently even as he was relentless at the other.
When he used the edge of his teeth, she cried out and her hands shot to either side of his head, holding him to her.
He bucked up, rubbing his dick against the apex of her thighs and she cried out again. Moving too fast, he decided, too damn fast, so he gentled his treatment of her nipple, finally leaving it with a reluctant lick. Then he pressed quick kisses on a path to her mouth, taking it deeply as he managed to roll off the couch and carry her to his bedroom.
There, with her feet on the floor, his hands were shaking so badly she pushed them away on a giggle and finished undressing herself. His breathing ragged, he stared as she revealed her naked body in the low light of his bedside lamp, every delicate line, female curve, smooth texture. Then she lay on his sheets while he stood at the foot of the bed, gaze transfixed, one sock gone, his shirt half off, his jeans unfastened.
Her palm covered her mouth, stifling another giggle. “Why can’t you get your clothes off, Boone?” she asked. When he didn’t move a muscle, her head tilted, a flirtatious move that cut him to the bone, because it spoke of ease and of…trust.
Gemma trusted him.
At least in this.
Her eyelids dropped to half-mast, and she lifted one fingertip to her mouth, licked it, then drew a line down her chin and between her breasts. The dampness gleamed until she traced her navel and her hand stopped at the top of her sex, hovering there. She let her thighs fall open, and he could see her petals blooming like a flower, the heart of her glistening. “Like what you see?” she whispered.
And Boone knew it was a question she’d never asked of any other man. Only with Boone did she allow herself to be that bold…and that vulnerable.
“I fucking like everything I see,” he said, as he finally managed to divest himself of the rest of his clothes, running his gaze from her hard-tipped breasts to her swollen sex. “That night we had…it’s only fueled more fantasies.”
Her whole body shivered. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The way her tongue had scooped up some of his cum… He palmed his cock, trying to ease the rampant lust surging through his system. His touch only caused a bead of liquid to weep from the crown and he saw her look at it, lick her lips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said on a groan.
“I only want to make you feel good,” she replied, running a thumb over one nipple and then the other. “You know how to make me feel good.”
More grateful than ever, he mental
ly bowed low to every damn bedmate who’d given him time to learn how to please a woman. “I want to make you come for me hard tonight, Gemma.”
Her breathing hitched, her hand froze. “I won’t say no.”
“But I’m worried I might be too rough with you, baby. I’m feeling a little raw.”
“I shouldn’t have told you—”
“No,” he gripped his cock low, at the root, almost to the point of pain to slow himself down. “You can tell me anything.”
“You too,” she said, her voice throaty. “You can tell me what you want right now.”
“I want to bury my face in your pussy,” he said. “I want your wetness on my tongue and on my lips. I want to suck your clit and make you clamp down on my fingers, clasping them tight when you come, just like you’ll squeeze my cock when I get you off the second time.”
She stared at him, slack-jawed. In the dim light he could see the flush spreading over her face and down her throat. While the rest of her body was still, her breasts quivered as her chest moved up and down with unsteady breaths.
“You’re going to have to concentrate when it’s time to let me inside, Gemma,” he said. “You’re going to have to focus in order to relax that sweet pussy when it’s time for me to get in there.”
Her gaze stayed trained on his face. “I-I will.” She licked her lips. “I promise.”
“Good.” His lips curved in a tight, feral smile. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet, sweet girl. To make it easier on you.”
“But I want a taste too,” she said, her voice shaky. “I want to taste you again.”
His hand clamped his cock, leashing his response to the idea of seeing her, mouth open, taking him in. “Then you’ll get me nice and wet as well.”
She shuddered now. “I want you, Boone. What are you waiting for?”
Since common sense had taken a hike and second thoughts were burned up in the heat coursing through him, Boone crawled onto the bed. Elbows on either side of her head, he kissed her, gentle, then deeper, a romantic kiss that was meant to seduce and not pillage.
But her hands dug into his hair, her nails pricking his scalp, her mouth ardent, her kiss withholding nothing.
All in, he thought, over the rush of blood in his ears. Right now, she’s all in.
And he gave it everything he had, all he’d promised, holding back nothing as well, knowing he’d leave her with more than beard burn this time. There’d be other marks and deeper aches but he drew every pulse beat of pleasure from her, finally leaving them both panting and wrecked.
Several minutes passed as they lay side by side on the tumbled sheets, doing nothing but breathing. Then her hand came up to toy with his chest hair. He glanced down, saw that his own nipples were reddened from her mouth and felt his cock twitch. Tonight she’d been unreserved in both her responses and her actions.
Jesus. He’d loved every minute, he’d loved every touch. He loved her.
“What are you thinking, Boone?” she asked.
“Men don’t think anything in moments like this, baby,” he murmured, lying. “What about you?”
A long pause. Had she fallen asleep?
But finally she spoke again. “I’m thinking that I could get used to this.”
He stilled, even his heart not beating as she continued speaking. “I mean, I could get used to what we have.”
“And what’s that?” he managed to choke out.
Her voice sounded drowsy and she turned her head into his shoulder so her lips moved against his skin, her words like a series of small kisses. “I’m pretty sure they call it friends with benefits.”
Chapter 14
“Please,” Gemma coaxed in her most alluring voice, leaning close. “I don’t know how you can resist petting all that silky sweetness.”
Boone slanted her a look. “Stop.”
“You could have it all to yourself.”
“Gemma—”
“Touch it anytime you want. All you want.”
“I know what you’re doing,” he said, scowling.
She grinned at him. “I’m only trying to enrich your life.”
“You enjoy making me nuts.”
This could be true. Still smiling, she sat back in the passenger seat and watched the downtown businesses of Sawyer’s Beach slowly roll by. The last week had been the best of her life. Gifts for Girlfriends kept her busy during the day and Boone occupied her nights. Perhaps she should have started having sex without any kind of strings years ago.
“What are you thinking now,” he asked, “with that self-satisfied smirk on your face?”
Not that she needed to tell him to what heights he took her, every time he took her to bed. It had to be obvious. She’d never been uninhibited or at all adventurous, but with Boone…
A shiver ran down her spine and she felt a sudden physical yearning shoot from her belly to that place between her thighs, making her hyperaware of her sensitive flesh tingling to life there, swelling in anticipation—as well as in arousing recall. “I want you to feed me dinner again sometime soon. I love sucking sauce off your fingertips.”
His big body twitched, the steering wheel taking a quick jerk to the side before he righted it again. “Jesus, baby. Don’t talk like that while I’m driving.”
She grinned at him once more. “Payback.” She’d learned her man of few words was full of raunchy plain speaking once he’d figured out how it turned her on. “You know what you do when you talk like that to me.”
“Your beautiful eyes go dark and you make the sweetest, neediest sound in the back of your throat.” He reached over, his big hand squeezing her knee. “Gets me hard as a rock.”
She swallowed as a wash of hot goose bumps broke over her skin. Needing to touch him too, her hand slid onto his thick thigh, then headed in the direction of that steely part he’d mentioned.
He caught her hand even as he pulled into a parking space outside her shop. “Not here.”
She pouted. “Spoilsport.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “You wanna play public games like that, girl?”
She wanted to do anything and everything with this man, to this man, his muscled body her personal playground, her personal test lab. Yes, she wanted to take her neighbor experiment in new—to her, anyway—directions. “Maybe,” she told him now, looking at him through the veil of her eyelashes.
He laughed, then shifted to chuck her under the chin, where the tender skin reacted to his touch with another round of heated chills. “Shall I think of somewhere we can indulge this new predilection of yours?”
With no other man would she feel safe enough to even suggest such a thing. Friendship with a sexy guy, she found, was a wonderful thing. She wiggled in her seat, feeling her face flush. “Will you?”
“When have I ever said no to you?”
Thinking they should take this down another avenue before she climbed into Boone’s lap and had her way with him, she clasped her hands together and gave him a soulful look. “Does this mean you’re going to adopt one of the kittens we saw today?” They’d gone to the shelter together to drop off the bags of food, and when he’d admitted he’d never ventured beyond the reception area, she’d convinced him to pop into the visitors’ zone where the animals were available for petting and play. Everything inside her had gone soft seeing the tiny creatures crawl all over him. “Admit they were beyond adorable.”
He shook his head. “Gemma—”
“We’ll get a girl kitten and a boy kitten. They can be good friends just like we are.”
His gaze cut away.
She saw she was losing him. So she grabbed his fingers and rubbed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. How she enjoyed any of him touching any of her. “It could be so fun,” she said, giving him another seductive glance from below her lashes.
He looked at her again, sighed. “We’ll have to get them fixed so they don’t turn into sex fiends like their parents.”
Laughing, she let him pull his hand a
way. “So you’re considering it.”
“I’m considering having my head examined,” he said, then leaned toward her for a quick peck on the tip of her nose. “Now get to work.”
She saluted, then hopped out of the truck and tripped on happy feet into her store. The sound of the bells on the door sounded as cheery as her mood.
In the break room, she hung up her purse and jacket and then wandered into the shopping area where contented browsers moved about. She answered a question and pointed out a price tag before May came her way. “Did you enjoy your lunch hour?” her assistant asked.
“I did. And I left a container of fruit salad and some yogurt for you in the fridge, as requested.”
“Thanks, boss.” May paused, her gaze assessing. “Wow. Did you imbibe an energy tonic while you were out?”
“Nope.” A smile broke over Gemma’s face, then she glanced around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “You wouldn’t believe how invigorating an unlimited diet of great sex can be.”
“I can believe it,” May said, flapping her hands at her sides. “What do you think gives me my indefatigable wings?”
Gemma laughed. May did have the metabolism of a hummingbird. “Gotcha.”
“So you and Boone were indulging in some afternoon delight?”
“No.” It turned out that doing things as simple as picking up lunch while running a couple of errands with him kept her mood at all’s-well. All’s-wonderful, actually. She leaned closer to her assistant, eager to confide. “I met his dad.”
“Oooh,” May said, eyes going wide. “Meeting the parents. A big step.”
“No. Not exactly like that.” Gemma frowned, remembering she’d been introduced as his neighbor. But hadn’t she referred to Boone as the same to her mother and aunt?
“What did you think?” her assistant pressed. “Based on his dad, is Boone going to age with droopy jowls and a pregnant lady-paunch?”
“May—”
“What? That describes my papa and I wouldn’t trade him for anyone.”
“Boone’s father looks…” Lonely, she thought. Independent and comfortable enough, she supposed, but despite the coveted, ocean-close location of his trailer, she’d wanted to grace the interior with…something. A hand-knit throw, a row of succulents planted in a wooden trencher, a colorful glass pitcher to replace the scarred plastic one he used for iced tea that he’d pulled from his refrigerator.
ALL IN (7-Stud Club Book 1) Page 17
