Chasing Gunner (Chasing Series Book 2)

by J. M Stoneback

  Did I just flirt with Gunner? What the heck. He probably isn’t going to remember anything.

  “The world must be coming to an end if Gia Gallagher is flirting with me.”

  I should send him to his room, but he’s funny when he’s drunk.

  “Show me your panties.” He slurs his words again.

  “How much alcohol have you had?”

  “A bottle of tequila.” He continues to tug on the hem of my nightgown, watching me with a blazing fire in his eyes.

  Should I let him see?

  I shouldn’t be entertaining the thought of letting Gunner see me in my panties. It’s inappropriate. Well, everything about our relationship is inappropriate.

  As butterflies dance in my stomach I stand from the couch and move between his legs. Breathing deeply, I watch as his eyes grow intense as they slowly trail up to my thighs while I pull up my nightgown just to my waist so he won’t see the battle scars on my lower stomach. The cool air tickles my butt cheeks and I bite my bottom lip.

  Does he like what he sees?

  I don’t have a body like a model or stripper. I’m skinny with small breasts I can cup in my hands. My body is ugly.

  Oh, no, he’s too quiet. He must not like what he sees.

  “Turn around,” he orders, and my heart leaps in my chest as I do what he says. “You have a nice ass. I want to fuck and lick it.”

  My body tenses as I feel his warm hand on my hip. His touch burns my skin. There’s no denying my body aches for him.

  “Did you know orgasms lower the risk of a stroke and heart disease?” I blurt out.

  I cover my mouth with my hand. Just shut up, Gia. Stop talking. If I keep this up, I’m going to die of embarrassment.

  “Why are you nervous?” His hot breath tickles my butt cheeks.

  “I-I don’t know.” The words come out breathless. His touch makes me feel like I’ve been deprived of intimacy.

  Nine years of no sex is a long time.

  “Good nervous or bad nervous?” His plump lips touch my left butt cheek and heat rushes to my sex.

  “Good nervous.” I close my eyes and imagine what would happen if I let him do all the dirty things to me I fantasize about at night. The women in college used to rave about how good he is in the sheets, and how he screws like a god.

  “Good.” He hooks his fingers in my underwear and slowly pulls them down to mid-thigh, then rubs his nose against each cheek, biting my flesh and kissing his marks. And I bite my lip to keep from moaning. My vagina is so hot, I’m about to combust. I want to see his face, the way he looks as he’s touching me.

  “I’ve been wanting to use and abuse your pussy and mouth since college.”

  Shocked, I turn my torso to look at him.

  “You have?” I jerk my head back.

  “That’s why I showed up at the library every day. I was obsessed with you.” He kisses the dip between my lower back and butt and I want to melt into him. “Let me fuck you and show you how you make me feel.”

  “H-how do I make you feel?” I whimper.

  “Like a needy, tortured soul who wants to break loose from his demons.”

  Good. Now he knows how it feels to want someone you can’t have.

  When he twirls me around, he gently nibbles on my clit, and I let out a moan as I thrust my fingers through his thick silky hair.

  Slowly, I move my hips in motion, humping his face as he removes his tongue. “You’re teasing me,” I whisper. I’ve never wanted to have an orgasm more than I want to right now. I need to release.

  “You get to use me, and I get to use you.” His tone is low.

  So he’s admitting to me that all I am is a screw to him, that once this is over he can walk away from this—us.

  “What? When we’re done sleeping with each other you’re going to ghost me?”

  “Two things wrong with your statement.” He stares at my vagina like he’s ready to devour it like a meal. “One, despite popular belief I don’t ghost women. I tell them not to get attached. When they do, then I disappear. I wouldn’t do that to you. I care about you way too much. More than I should.”

  He shoves two fingers inside me, and I shudder, closing my eyes as he strokes me three times and uses his thumb to rub my clit gently.

  “G-Gunner,” I say breathlessly. My sex is hungry for his erection and thirsty for his cum.

  After the fourth stroke, an orgasm courses through my sex and shoots down to my feet. It cuts through me so deep my knees buckle, and I rest my hands on his shoulders. And it reminds me I’ve never come so hard in my life.

  When he pulls out his glistening fingers, he licks them clean like I’m his favorite drink. “Fuck. Your pussy tastes like red sangria. Sweet and fruity.”

  I feel light-headed and dizzy like I’m the one who is drunk. When I glance between his legs, his erection hardens even more against his denim jeans. I want it. I. Want. It.

  “Two, I prefer the term fucking. Sleeping together sounds like boring, fluff-the-pillow sex.”

  Even though his offer is tempting, I can’t do it. I’m the one who would end up with the broken heart and be left with the broken pieces.

  Coming out of my post-orgasm haze, I pull my panties over my hips, yank down my gown, and sit on the couch next to him.

  Jeez, what was I thinking letting him touch me like this? What is wrong with me? This is bad. So bad.

  “No, Gunner.” I run my toes through the blue wool carpet, keeping my head down.

  “Why not?” His voice is husky and smooth. When he tilts my chin toward him, I smell myself on his fingers.

  Because I can’t risk getting hurt by you. I need more than a dirty screw, I want to say, but I’m not brave enough to utter those words. “I don’t want to.” I yank strands of hair from my bun and twirl it around my finger. “You need to leave.”

  I don’t want him to leave, but if he doesn’t I might do something I’ll hate myself for in the morning.

  I wrap my arms around myself. I don’t know how I let it get this far between us. For heaven’s sake, I let him finger me—and for a split second, I almost lost all my common sense.

  Nope, never again.

  He pushes himself off the couch and strides toward the door; I follow him to make sure it closes this time.

  He stops in front of the door; he turns around to face me, cupping my face, and stroking his thumb against my cheek. His eyes swim with passion and lust.

  If I wasn’t certain before that I wanted to kiss him, I’m certain now. I want his kisses and I want him to mark me like I’m his. I want the sex he promises, and I want to feel his tortured soul. He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine, and I whimper against his mouth.

  Gunner is my weakness, and he knows it. It’s why he won’t leave me alone. He knows I wanted him nine years ago. We both know I’m going to cave sooner or later.

  Finally, he lets go of my cheeks. My shoulders slump, and my heart begs for him.

  As the door clicks when he shuts it, I sag against the wall.

  If the sheep keeps hanging around with the wolf, it’s bound to get devoured.

  Gia

  I eat my ham pizza at a square table in the corner of an expensive restaurant inside the hotel. My gaze clings to the people strolling in and out of the door. Chatter fills the restaurant. As I bite into the pizza, I feel sauce smearing my cheek. I take a napkin from the holder to wipe my face. The ham is overcooked and the tomato sauce is dry. This food sucks. Twenty bucks for this? I want my money back and an apology for being served this garbage.

  When Gunner strides through the door, my cheeks flame and my heart squeezes in anticipation. He’s wearing a gray custom suit with a black tie. I was hoping I wasn’t going to see him until it was time to meet with Oliver tonight. That way we wouldn’t have to talk about what happened last night. How he made me come. Hopefully, he was so drunk last night he won’t remember. That way I don’t have to feel embarrassed when I speak to him.

  As he sta
nds in line to order his food, he scans the restaurant. When his eyes land on me, I avert my eyes to the half-eaten food. Several moments later, Gunner places his plate of grits and shrimp on the tablecloth.

  “Hey.” His voice is gravelly. No matter what I do, I can never stop blushing around him. I grab the glass of Coke to take long, slow sips, gluing my eyes on the ice clinking together, before I set it down on the table.

  “Hi.” My voice is low.

  “You can look at me, Rainbow. I won’t lick you in public unless you want me to.”

  I press my thighs together as the memories of last night bleed through my mind.

  I hear the smile in his voice. Slowly, my eyes lift to his.

  “How’s your head?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Good. I didn’t drink enough to have a hangover.”

  Great. So much for him forgetting last night.

  His fork scratches against the plate as he scoops grits in his mouth and eats in silence.

  What is he thinking about? Does he regret what happened last night?

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his shrimp. My gaze rests on my favorite part of him, his jaw. He has a small cut on his chin like he cut himself shaving.

  “Are you gonna sit here and eye-fuck me? Or are we gonna address the elephant in the room?”

  “Let’s forget about it,” I murmur, averting my eyes to a woman who’s breastfeeding her baby while she fusses at her toddler. He regrets it and is probably going to tell me he doesn’t want to sleep with me. He was caught in the moment. Plus, he probably only wanted me because I was convenient at the time. “You didn’t mean it, we’ll forget it ever happened.” For some strange reason, I wanted it to be real. For him to want me for me and not look at me as some hooker on the street.

  “Gia, shut the fuck up.” His tone is calm, causing my eyes to snap back to his. “I meant every word I said last night.”

  I smile on the inside at that. It’s true what people say about drunk people. “A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.”

  “I’m willing to break my rule for you.”

  “You mean the one where you sleep with a woman only one time?” I blink rapidly.

  “Yeah.”

  People leave the restaurant and a busboy in a white uniform picks up the dirty dishes, placing them in the black bin, removing the cloth, and wiping down the table.

  “No, Wolf. I need something more than just sex. I don’t want to feel like I’m being used,” I say.

  “Okay, we’ll date. Or whatever you want to call it.”

  “Really?” Surprise slices through my face. I don’t believe people change overnight, let alone in a few minutes.

  “Do you want me to do a blood oath? Or spit on our hands and shake?”

  So sarcastic. I roll my eyes at him. “Why the change of heart? We all know relationships are not your jam.”

  “I need to get my psychiatrist off my back about dating.”

  “I’m an experiment.”

  “Looks that way.” His voice is flat like a board, and he smooths out his black tie, looking bored.

  “You’re not going to say something along the lines of ‘don’t get attached because I might break your heart?’”

  “You know exactly who you’re dealing with. You dance with a wolf, expect to get eaten, sheep.”

  “Maybe I want to be eaten.” I fiddle with the end of the silk tablecloth.

  “Careful what you wish for,” he says with a smirk on his face.

  “I’ll think about it.” I rise from the table. “Can I sit the meeting with Oliver out?”

  I need a clear head when I think about Gunner and whatever relationship we could have. When I’m around him, my mind is foggy, and I don’t think straight.

  “Take all the time you need.”

  When I get back to my room, I sit on the couch, whip out my notepad and pen that I keep in my purse, and write out a list of pros and cons of doing this experiment with Gunner.

  Pros~

  awesome sex

  ease my loneliness

  getting intimate

  warm body to snuggle with at night

  experiencing a healthy relationship

  Cons~

  getting attached and my heart broken.

  I stare at the list for a few seconds, then I write.

  Will Gunz be worth the risk???

  FYI, I’m not much of a risk-taker, and maybe that’s my downfall in life. I would have never gotten on a jet if it wasn’t for this job.

  The only reason I started college was because Petra thought it was a good idea to get a headstart on the bakery I always wanted to open. And my mom would be proud of me if she was still alive, and she always wanted me to have a better life than she had.

  The only reason why I decided to join society and not live like a hermit after the night of the party is because my old therapist told me that it wasn’t healthy for me to stay inside my apartment for months at a time. If Gunner had never taken the initiative to touch me last night, I’d have never admitted to myself that I wanted him, or even liked him.

  So what will I decide? I don’t know.

  Gia

  A few days go by, and I still haven’t given Gunner an answer. It isn’t that I don’t want to, it’s just that we’ve been busy with work. In and out of meetings, lunch with shareholders, Darien, and Oliver about American Banking. By the time we get home it’s so late I don’t even cook like I promised I would when I first moved in with him.

  I sit at the desk with my headphones on as Saving Abel’s Addicted soothes my ears. The urge to jump into his arms and kiss him is as strong as wanting to dance in the rain on a summer day.

  I spin my leather chair around as I watch Gunner through the glass wall that separates our offices. He’s typing on his keyboard, his eyes on the monitor. This is the perfect time to tell him my answer.

  My heart speeds up.

  Calm down, heart. This is only temporary.

  When I grab my small mirror from my purse, I check out my face to make sure I don’t look like the walking dead. I didn’t have time to apply eyeliner or foundation this morning, and my skin is white as Casper the ghost. I flash my teeth and use my pinky nail to remove a piece of food and put the mirror back in my purse. As I get up from the desk, I flatten out my black polka dot dress and flip my brown hair over my shoulders.

  I open the door that connects our offices and perch on the chair in front of the desk. When Gunner is in work mode, he doesn’t pay attention to his environment. His facial expression is focused like he’s under a spell. I clear my throat and say, “Do you have a second?”

  “What do you want, Rainbow?” He says it in a get-to-the-point type of way. His eyes are still glued to the monitor.

  “The answer to your question is yeah,” I answer, and he tilts his nose to the ceiling, closing his eyes and opening them. We’re quiet for several minutes. Too quiet. Maybe he’s changed his mind.

  Gunner pushes himself from the leather chair, and before I know it he yanks me to my feet. He looks every bit a predator about to feast on his prey. He cups my neck with both hands, rubbing his rough calloused thumbs over my cheeks. And when his plump lips meet mine, I melt. The world stops on its axis, and we’re in our own little bubble. No one exists in the world but us. Before I know it, his tongue dances with mine, hitting the roof of my mouth. Cinnamon flavors slide down my throat. He tastes of sin—forbidden and wrong.

  Even though the kiss is sloppy, I feel it in my bones and my soul.

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he drops his hands, scooping me up by my butt cheeks. I wrap my legs around his waist. Wolf breaks our kiss and uses his right arm to clear his desk. Even though my vagina is wet and ready, I don’t want to have sex right here. And suddenly I remember Mason will be here in fifteen minutes to go over the financial analysis. As Gunner sets me down on the desk, I rest my hand on his hard chest.

  “Wait. We shouldn’t do this right now.”

  �
��Why not?” He drops to his knees and spreads my thighs, pulling my dress up my legs, staring at my yellow panties. I hop off the desk and pull my dress down.

  “Let’s go on a date first, the traditional way.”

  He yanks me back into a hug and kisses the tip of my nose. “Fine. I’ll take you to the fair on Broadway in Atlantic City after work.” His face scrunches up in pain.

  “You sure aren’t excited about it.” And just like that, my mood dissolves.

  “No, fuck. I’ve been waiting almost a decade to take you out.” He grips me tighter. “Just have your ass ready when I get home.”

  I hear someone clear their throat, and Gunner and I spin around. Mason makes his way to the black couch. He’s wearing a black suit with a cherry red tie, his dark hair is combed to the side and his sunburnt face has its default expression. He’s a little shorter than Gunner but still taller than me. His ocean-blue eyes narrow on us, frowning. I press my palms against Gunner’s chest to pull away, but he grips my waist tighter. The look he’s shooting Mason is enough to kill the whole population of New York City.

  “Well, well, well. Look what we have here. The real reason why Gia has been treating me like shit. She’s one of your whores.” He smirks, and I glare at him.

  I don’t like Mason. He’s always had a creepy vibe to him, and there are rumors floating around the building that he slept his way up the corporate ladder and steps on people’s toes to get ahead. Slimy bastard.

  “Call her a whore again, and I’ll leave your ass so broke you’ll be begging the homeless guys living in Central Park for money.” Gunner lets go of me. “Apologize to my girlfriend.”

  My heart does cartwheels in my chest at the word ‘girlfriend.’

  Calm down, heart. This is an experiment.

  “Apologize to Gia, now.” His voice is calm but deadly as poison. “Don’t make me tell you again.” The air changes from sexual tension to testosterone, and the way they are staring at each other is enough to start World War III.

  “I’m sorry, Gia,” Mason says coolly, crossing his legs. “Can we get this meeting over with?”