His Unlikely Lover

by Natasha Anders

  “Don’t be obtuse, Bobbi,” Bronwyn said grimly. “And stop being so damned stubborn. Obviously it would reflect badly on him; how could anybody trust a businessman with bad judgment? And that’s what it would look like to everybody else. Bad judgment if he showed up with you on his arm and you were dressed as if you were still back in your workshop.”

  “I wouldn’t feel comfortable. I wouldn’t feel like myself,” Bobbi whispered.

  “That’s probably because you haven’t found anything that you like yet.” Theresa reached over to give Bobbi’s hand a supportive squeeze. “You don’t go shopping; you get the easiest things off the rack and you’re done. Wearing a dress won’t change who you are, Bobbi. It couldn’t possibly do that, it’ll merely add a bit of embellishment.”

  “Why don’t we turn our girls’ night into a girls’ day tomorrow and do some shopping?” Lisa suggested, and the other women hummed their approval.

  “I don’t want some Cinderella makeover,” Bobbi said in a panic and they all laughed.

  “Don’t be silly,” Theresa said dismissively. “You don’t need a makeover. Don’t you know that you’re gorgeous? You just need some guidance, that’s all.”

  “I’m not sure,” Bobbi said. “I have work and other stuff.”

  She was nervous at the thought of a shopping trip. Shopping wasn’t her strong suit, and she had never really had another woman’s guidance when going out to buy clothing. It meant the world to her that these four women, who had become such close friends in so short a time, wanted to guide her through the process, but Bobbi really couldn’t imagine shopping being anything other than an ordeal. Still, the idea was tempting, and if anybody could turn a day of tedious shopping into something fun, it would be these four.

  “Bobbi,” Theresa said. “I promise you we will make it as painless and fun as possible. All we’re doing is finding some clothes that suit your awesome personality. I mean, what do denim shorts and T-shirts say about you, really?”

  “I like comfort?” Bobbi ventured.

  “Yes, but how about the fact that you have a sense of fun and an adventurous spirit too?” Theresa responded. “Clothes don’t have to be just practical, you know, and evening dresses don’t have to be intimidating, sexy sheaths. They can be fun and flirty and edgy and cool.”

  “You need to stop watching Project Runway,” Bronwyn said with an eye roll.

  “I just watch it for the accessories.” Theresa went to her stock-in-trade answer.

  “Sure you do,” Lisa said.

  “Anyway . . . we’re going shopping,” Theresa repeated

  “Yes, we are,” Bronwyn confirmed, as did Alice and Lisa.

  Comprehensively outvoted, Bobbi shrugged and bowed to the inevitable.

  “I guess we’re going shopping.”

  Sandro was the first man, as always, to break free of the hypnotic effect of the grill, and he climbed up the bleachers to slide in behind Theresa and drag her back between his spread thighs.

  “You ladies look so serious,” he observed, nuzzling Theresa’s neck in between words. “What are you talking about?”

  “Girls’ stuff,” Lisa said enigmatically, smiling at her husband, who had come to join them. Bryce and Pierre soon followed Rick and all three men sat down close to their wives. That was the way it usually went. The men huddled by the grill for a while, and then the married guys would drift over to join their wives in the stands. The single men usually remained trapped by the fire’s enthralling spell. That’s why Bobbi was heartened when Gabe glanced up them, smiled when he caught her eye, and, without a backward glance to the siren song of the flames, made his way over to her. He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist until she was practically melded against him.

  She leaned against him with a contented sigh and rested her hand on his thigh and her head on his shoulder. One of his hands was resting on her leg, just above her knee, and when it went down to cup her kneecap, she twisted her head to meet his eyes.

  “What happened here?” he asked gruffly, gently brushing a finger across the grass burn on her knee. She had taken a tumble during the game, which he—fortunately—hadn’t seen, but she had scraped her knee pretty badly.

  “It’s just a grass burn,” she explained. “I tripped over my own feet.”

  “Good game tonight,” he said. “Although having both Chase and Kinsley on my team wasn’t exactly ideal.” Chase wasn’t great at football. Cricket was more his sport.

  “Did you like my goal?” She smirked, and he glowered at the brightly lit field.

  “I would have liked it a hell of a lot better if you were on my team.”

  “Stop being such a sore loser,” she chastised. Gabe’s team had lost 3–0 and he was clearly still moody about it—despite the therapeutic fire-heals-all-wounds postgame session at the grill.

  “Meat’s done,” Chase called from the grill, and Bobbi moved to get her food, but Gabe’s hand tightened on her leg.

  “I’ll get it. I don’t want you straining that leg too much.”

  She gaped at him.

  “Gabe, it’s a grass burn,” she pointed out.

  “It’ll still sting,” he said. He kissed her quickly before lithely jumping off the stands and heading toward the grill.

  “You guys are really sweet together,” Bron pointed out after the others had drifted down for food as well. Most of the children were asleep on picnic loungers and covered with blankets just next to the bleachers, but Bronwyn had her sleeping two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Kayla, tucked against her chest, which meant Bryce had gone for their food. “It’s interesting because you were such good friends that I expected a bit of awkwardness, but it’s like you’ve been a couple forever and he clearly adores you.”

  “What makes you say that?” Bobbi asked curiously.

  “The guy was watching you like a hawk throughout the entire game, every time it looked like you would fall we could see him tensing up, ready to fly to your side.”

  “He didn’t see this happen,” Bobbi pointed to her knee, and Bronwyn laughed.

  “Oh, he saw it all right, and if not for Chase grabbing the back of his collar and yanking him nearly off his feet, he’d have come dashing over to rescue you. Whatever Chase said managed to calm Gabe down enough to stop him from carrying you off the field.”

  “God, that would have been embarrassing,” Bobbi groaned. “I warned him not to overreact to every tiny scrape, but he wouldn’t give me his word.”

  She watched him climb back up the bleachers, carefully carrying two loaded plates. He stuck one on her knees before sitting down beside her again.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Happy to do it.” And he really seemed to be happy. Bobbi studied him for a long moment, reflecting on how eager he was to please her, and thought about her own reluctance to do the one thing guaranteed to please him. It left her feeling petty and selfish.

  After everybody had left that night and Chase had made his way back to the house, Gabe took her hand and led her to the gate.

  “I could stay,” she whispered, after a long and deeply satisfying kiss.

  “Hmmm,” he murmured, his hands busily drifting up under her loose shirt, stroking up and down the skin of her back. When they moved around to cup her breasts through the thick cotton of her sports bra, she moaned and pushed herself more fully into his hands.

  “Do you want me to stay?” she asked, more urgently, her arms winding around his neck. He didn’t answer, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin on her collarbone instead. Bobbi sighed and planted urgent kisses all over his strong jaw, the tip of her tongue tasting the salt on his skin with every caress.

  “Gabe,” she said softly, rapidly losing her ability to think beyond the next drugging kiss. “Gabe, I’m staying.”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her with hot eyes.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough. “Because if you stay it’s through the night. There’s no negotiating on
that. Are you ready for everyone to be aware of the fact that we’re sleeping together?”

  “Chase knows,” she pointed out.

  “But you’ve never had to face him over the breakfast table the next day,” Gabe said. “If you stay, there’ll be no sneaking out in the middle of the night like we’ve done something to be ashamed of, and no rushing off in the morning either. Are we clear on that?”

  “As crystal,” she said, and he smiled.

  “Then let’s go to bed.” He held out his hand and she took it without any hesitation, happy to follow him home.

  Gabe gathered her into his arms the moment they set foot in his room and his lips immediately descended over hers. His rapacious mouth swallowed up a small sigh of pleasure, and after that she was just lost. His strong hands moved, one down to the small of her back and the other to the back of her head, where his fingers wove themselves into her short, silky hair. Her mouth opened helplessly beneath his and his hungry, searching tongue eagerly responded to the invitation. The kiss was better than anything else that had ever come before it, and it consumed her completely.

  She was burning from the inside out and reveling in it. She pushed herself closer and closer, wanting to crawl into his skin, wanting to fuse herself to him and become a part of him. Bobbi could not remember ever surrendering so completely to anyone before. Not even that first time they had made love. This time felt different, it felt more significant, more loving. In that moment Gabriel Braddock was her reason for living and the sum total of her existence.

  Bobbi protested when Gabe dragged his lips from hers and tried to pull him back down toward her. He laughed and said something beneath his breath before bringing his hands to the hem of her T-shirt and dragging it up over her head. He tossed it aside and focused on her sports bra. He pushed the straps down the slender slopes of her shoulders, his eyes intently focused on the golden flesh his large hands were revealing. Bobbi sucked in a shocked breath when she felt nothing but air on her breasts, and she groaned painfully at the first tentative touch of his finger on the sensitive peak of one mound. Her nipple surged to swollen life and he smiled in satisfaction before lowering his mouth to the aching bud and suckling it deeply into his hot, velvety mouth.

  Bobbi squeaked in shock, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of sensation that raced through her body like an addictive narcotic. She was flat on her back in the middle of his bed by this time and had no clear idea of how she had gotten there. Her baggy football shorts were gone and she was wearing just white cotton panties—their only concession to her femininity being the tiny pink lace borders that were hemmed around the edges.

  Gabe was balanced above her with one of his muscular, naked thighs thrust between hers. He continued to do amazing things to her with his clever mouth and his industrious hands. His mouth moved back and forth between one painfully distended, raspberry-red nipple and the other before finding her lips again, plundering ruthlessly, taking as much as he was giving.

  “Bobbi.” He lifted his head, his voice was thick, slurred, and almost unrecognizable. “My darling Bobbi . . .” He flipped over onto his back and dragged her with him so that she was straddling his thigh.

  Gabe knew that Bobbi was unaware of the sexy picture she made, with her breasts spilling over the top of her bra, her nipples and lips swollen and red. Her eyes looked drugged with pleasure and she smiled widely, delighting in her new position.

  His hands framed her face and tugged it closer to his own, he lifted his head to claim her lips but she pulled back at the last second and instead struggled to tug his T-shirt off. He sat up and helped her drag it up over his muscular, tanned chest, impatient to feel her hands on him.

  “Oh,” she sighed contentedly, when she finally managed to stroke his skin. Her small hands found his hard nipples and her fingers tugged a bit too enthusiastically. Gabe yelped in pain and her eyes filled with remorse. She lowered her head and kissed away the sting, licking and sucking almost delicately, until Gabe thought that he would go out of his mind with pleasure.

  “Oh yes, sweetheart,” he groaned, his hands framing her face again. “Yes . . .”

  Bobbi moved over to the other nugget and paid it homage as well, savoring the salty taste and warm, musky scent of him.

  “You’re so gorgeous,” she whispered against his flesh.

  “God, I want you so much, Bobbi mine.” She lifted her head to meet his tormented regard and nodded slowly, her eyes alive with warmth.

  “I want you too.”

  “I’ve missed you,” he confided, sitting up, so that she was wantonly cradled in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist and her bottom snugly tucked against the swollen flesh pushing against the confines of his shorts. Her eyes filled with tears as the emotion of the moment overwhelmed her.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered, kissing away the errant tears that had slipped down her cheeks.

  “I can’t seem to stop,” she confessed, a sob catching in her throat.

  “Ssh, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her again. The caress so gentle it just prompted more tears from her. He lifted his head. “What’s this now, sweetheart? Why the tears?”

  She shook her head, unable to verbalize what she was feeling and buried her face against his chest, leaving moisture on his skin. She planted hungry kisses all over his chest before inching her hands down to the hard column sawing up against her cleft. Her lips followed her hands down until she was bent over his shorts, her breath washing against his flat abdomen as she tugged at the drawstring.

  Gabe groaned when she managed to undo the knot and he lifted his hips to make it easier for her to tug his shorts and briefs down past his thighs. He lifted his head from the bed to watch what she was doing and Bobbi enjoyed the ripple of muscles on his abdomen and torso at the movement.

  “Bobbi, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a tormented whisper. She didn’t bother to reply, allowing her actions to speak for her when she took hold of his length in both of her hands and stroked it slowly from top to bottom.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus,” he grated, his hips coming off the bed at her touch. She smiled at him from where she was crouched at his center before dropping an experimental kiss on the sensitive tip of his shaft. “Stop! Bobbi . . . don’t.”

  But she did, her mouth enveloped him, and what she couldn’t fit, her hands took care of. Gabe felt like the top of his head was about to blow off, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long if she continued this. It nearly killed him, but he dragged her off and back under him. They were both completely naked in no time at all and he placed his hands on her inner thighs and opened her up to his ravenous gaze. His throat went dry at how perfect she was and he was soon repaying the favor that she had so surprisingly bestowed on him moments before.

  Bobbi squealed, tears long forgotten, as Gabe used his very talented tongue on her to maximum effect. It wasn’t long before her entire body clenched and she came with a moan and quiet gasp. He gave her no time to recover; he dragged a condom from his nightstand drawer and put it on, while Bobbi drank in the sight of his splendid nakedness. She was intoxicated by him and aware of nothing more than Gabe and what he could to her with his hands, mouth, and body.

  She joyfully welcomed him back into her body, loving how absolutely perfect it felt to have him inside of her again. He moved slowly, gently, and allowed them both to fully savor the physical and emotional closeness of the moment.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispered, and she wrapped her arms around him in response and held him even closer. She could feel his thrusts in every part of her body and it drove her wild. She softly moaned every time he withdrew, lamenting his departure, but gasped happily with every return stroke. Her orgasm snuck up on her and sent her spinning madly out of control before she was fully prepared for it. Her breath caught and held. She didn’t think she could physically stand the oh-so-exquisite torture! How could anybody stand it? But suddenly he was there, calming her down, whi
spering endearments in her ear and setting her crazily tilted world to rights again.

  As she found herself lazily drifting back to earth, she felt it happening to him too: the madness. He was sobbing into her neck as he impaled her wildly, without any rhythm or control. He harshly called out to her, seeking an anchor to hold him steady, the way he had for her and she kissed him gently, whispering reassuringly when he convulsed for what seemed an eternity before collapsing limply on top of her. She soothed him with her words, the same three words over and over again, while her tears overflowed into his already damp hair beneath her cheek.

  “I love you, Gabe,” she whispered as she clung to him, the words barely audible. “I love you.”

  Gabe heard the emotional words and they meant a hell of a lot in that moment but as much as he wished he could respond in kind, he just didn’t want to deceive her or raise her hopes unfairly. So he said nothing, merely removed the condom and was grateful for the moment’s respite as he left to discard it. He took an extra minute in the bathroom to compose himself but even so, when he returned to that bed and took her into his arms again, he was still trembling almost uncontrollably.

  She was a sweet, warm weight in his arms, and he relished tucking her close to his heart, enjoyed entangling his longer legs with her shapely ones and absolutely straight out loved the feeling of her growing heavier against him as sleep claimed her. He forced himself to stay awake for a while, just to watch her sleep and hear her occasional delicate snores. His heart felt full and when he eventually fell asleep, it was with a contented smile on his lips.

  “Morning.” The soft voice was spoken directly into her ear and Bobbi sighed before turning over onto her stomach in an effort to ignore it.

  “Come on, Bobbi, it’s time for breakfast.”