Easy Charm

by Kristen Proby

  “Why?” she asks as she folds a hand towel and hangs it in the oven door handle.

  “Because I’m an idiot.”

  “Well, some people are.” She nods thoughtfully.

  “I thought you were going to say that some men are.” Neil crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the counter, genuinely interested in what Gabby has to say.

  And so am I.

  “No, people can be idiots. Not just men.” She shrugs. “Especially when it comes to love.”

  “No one said anything about love.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” she says with a smile. “Sex and love together, that’s a powerful thing.” She seems to shake herself and offers Neil a shy smile. “Or I’ve been told.”

  “I’m not ready for love.”

  “You’re what, in your mid-twenties?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “So, grow up.” Both Neil and I raise our brows, him in surprise, and me in pride. “You have an amazing job that many people would kill for. You don’t have to fall in love today, but you don’t have to be a jackass either.”

  “I think I did just fall in love.”

  I growl, but both of them ignore me.

  “Trust me when I say,” she continues, “screwing anything with boobs isn’t attractive. It doesn’t make you a hot baseball star. It makes you a pathetic athlete with less than questionable morals. And later, when you are lonely and you want to fall in love, it won’t be easy. Do your thing. Play baseball. But don’t be a jackass.”

  “You’re smart,” Neil says, looking shell-shocked.

  “I’ve had my share of jackasses,” she replies simply. “My brothers sometimes have jackass qualities, but we yank them back to reality quickly. My dad was no jackass. And I’m certainly not raising one. If you act respectably and respectfully, the right girl will come along.”

  “You should add counseling services to your menu here,” Neil says with a laugh. “But I hear you. And I don’t disagree with you.”

  “Of course you don’t disagree. I’m right.”

  I can’t stand it anymore; I have to touch her. I pull her in front of me, against me, and wrap my arms around her shoulders, holding her close. Neil smiles at her thoughtfully, then raises his gaze to mine.

  “I’ve never seen you like this, man, but now I know why. You’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “Not even close,” I agree.

  “I’m going to bed.” Neil nods at both of us and turns to leave the room. “Do you mind if I stay tomorrow night too? I’d like to see a bit of New Orleans.”

  “No problem,” Gabby replies. When he leaves the room, she tilts her head back, looking up at me upside down. “Did I say too much?”

  I kiss her forehead softly and rest my lips there. “No, sweetheart. I think you said exactly what he needed to hear. He’s having a rough time.”

  “I could tell.” She sighs and closes her eyes, still resting her head back against my chest. “Your lips feel good.”

  I grin against her skin. “Let’s go put them to use in other places.”

  Chapter Ten

  ~Gabby~

  “Here, give these to Sam.” I glance up as Neil climbs the steps of the porch with a Cubs tote bag in his hands. “I signed a couple balls. You can have Rhys sign them too. And there’s a jersey in there.”

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” I say with a smile and accept the bag. Sam is going to be so excited! “But he will love it. He’ll be sad that he missed you.”

  “Maybe I’ll meet him another time,” Neil says. “Gabby, thanks again for what you said the other night.”

  “Look, I’m sorry if I crossed a line—”

  “No. You didn’t.” He shakes his head. “I needed to hear it¸ and you were right. It’s time to grow up and enjoy this career. Who knows how much longer I’ll be able to play? Professional athletes have an expiration date, especially catchers. My knees won’t last forever.”

  “Well, if you ever need advice, you know where to find me. You know, southern women aren’t exactly known for keeping their mouths shut.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He grins and turns to walk away, but stops and looks back at me. “Rhys is a good man.”

  “But?”

  “No but. He’s a good man. Just thought I’d let you know, for what it’s worth.”

  I smile, touched by the sweet baseball player. “It’s worth a lot.”

  He nods, gets in his car, and pulls away, leaving just me and Rhys at the inn. The rest of the guests left earlier this morning, and given that it’s Sunday, I’m officially off duty.

  I find Rhys in the kitchen, finishing a phone call. “Everyone is gone.”

  “Good.” He grins and folds me into a hug. “Do you want to go somewhere today?”

  “Nope.” I press my ear to his chest, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat. “I want to show you around my home.”

  “I’ve been here for a few weeks, baby.” He chuckles against my hair. “I’ve seen it.”

  “Not the slave quarters, or some of the other fun spots. I have stories to tell and everything.”

  “I’m getting the official tour?” he asks with surprise.

  “Absolutely.” I take his hand in mine and lead him outside, toward the slave quarters first. “We renovated these along with the house when I decided to move forward with the inn,” I inform him and he smiles indulgently. “What?”

  “Your tour guide voice just came on.”

  “Well, I am guiding.”

  “It’s sexy.” He’s smiling in that way he does that’s reserved just for me, and there go the lightning bugs in my belly again.

  “I’m glad you approve. As I was saying, I wanted the guests to see what the slaves lived in, and how they lived, here at the plantation back in the day.” The doors and windows of the small buildings are Plexiglas, so you can see in, and the elements don’t disturb the displays inside. “These are original slave homes that I had moved closer to the house. There is writing on the walls inside. See?”

  “I didn’t think slaves were allowed to know how to read or write.” He’s not just humoring me now, he’s really interested, and it makes me proud to share this with him. “It looks like dates and names.”

  “Most weren’t allowed to learn. It depended on the owner. As far as we know, my ancestors allowed the slaves to have an education, and some came here already knowing how to read and write.”

  “Interesting.” He backs away and leads me to the next cabin. “What made you decide to do all of this?”

  “Well, because although this isn’t a piece of our history that we’re proud of, it is a part of the plantation, and I want the guests to learn about it all. And the rest is a long story.”

  “I happen to have you all to myself today,” he reminds me as he rests his hand on my neck, rubbing gently. “So, talk away, beautiful.”

  “I had Sam very young. You know that.” He nods, patiently listening. “When I told my daddy that I was pregnant, well…I was so scared.” I swallow hard, thinking back on that day. “He found me over in the gardens, crying, the day I told Sam’s biological father that I was pregnant, and he told me to get rid of it.

  “Dad scooped me up, sat me in his lap the way he did when I was little, and asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t make the words come. I was scared and ashamed. So ashamed.”

  “Why were you ashamed? You didn’t do it alone.” Rhys takes my hand in his, links our fingers, and leads me to the gardens.

  “No, but I was old enough to know better. But, I told him that I was pregnant, and that the boy wanted me to abort it. And he said, ‘What do you want, baby-doll?’”

  Rhys kisses the back of my hand. “What did you want?”

  “I wanted to keep the baby.” I sigh and sit on the bench next to Rhys. “I didn’t want to get rid of it. So, Daddy said what he always did when times got rough. You can’t control the wind, but you can adjust your sails. So we’re just going to adjust
our sails and get on with it.” I smile sadly, wishing for the hundredth time since Dad passed that I could hear his voice say those words to me again.

  “And you did.”

  I nod. “We did. My family rallied around me. Sam is loved fiercely and we were very well taken care of, of course. I didn’t go to college. I’m lucky, Rhys. I come from a very influential family. A wealthy family. I’d told Dad on a few occasions that I wanted to turn the plantation into an inn. He liked the idea, and was helping me with plans. He was funding the renovations and the startup costs.

  “And then he died.” The tears come the way they always do when I think about this part. “So, he didn’t get to see it when it was finished.”

  “He sees it,” Rhys murmurs as he lifts me into his lap and holds me close, stroking my back and kissing my forehead. “And I’m sure he’s very proud.”

  “I hope so. Everything I did to this place, I did with him in the front of my mind. I constantly asked myself, ‘Would this make him happy? What would he think about this?’ I had Beau and Eli here a lot. Beau ended up staying, living in the old caretaker’s house that we remodeled as well, as you know. They were amazing, never balking at the cost of things, because we all wanted it to be top of the line, and restored perfectly. Daddy wouldn’t have spared any expense. This place has been in our family for six generations.”

  “That’s amazing,” Rhys says softly.

  “Not many people can say that,” I reply. “And I’m proud of it. I always have been. This has always been where I’m happiest. So working on it, watching guests enjoy it, is such a pleasure and a privilege.”

  “I’m glad that you do something that makes you so happy.” His arms tighten around me in a firm hug. “You deserve happiness, Gabrielle.”

  “So do you,” I reply. “Are you happy?” He doesn’t answer me for a long minute. I finally lean back and look up into his deep green eyes. “Are you?”

  “I will be, when I get your sexy ass into the house where I can spend the rest of the twenty hours we have left to ourselves lost in you.” He stands, easily carrying me toward the house. “I’m going to make you scream, baby.”

  “I’m not a screamer.” And it didn’t escape me that he didn’t answer my question.

  “You’re about to be.”

  I press my face into his neck, smiling like a loon, clinging to him as he walks to the house. He’s not even breathing hard. I’ve always said that strength is sexy, and I just wasn’t referring to physical strength. But holy shit, that’s sexy too.

  Like, really sexy.

  Rhys sets me on the countertop of the kitchen and stands between my legs, lifting my maxi skirt to my waist, his green eyes on fire as he stares down at me.

  “We’re not going up to the bedroom?”

  “We’ll get there.” His lips tip up in a half-smile as his hands roam from my sides to my thighs, and then his thumbs work up my inner thighs to my center and make my eyes cross. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

  I shake my head and lift the hem of his T-shirt, needing to get my hands on his smooth skin. The muscles twitch at my touch, making me smile, but then he groans and leans into me as my hands travel over his torso, reveling in how hard he is.

  God, he feels spectacular.

  Suddenly, Rhys squats before me and pushes my thighs farther apart. I have to lean back on my hands to keep from falling. He glances up at me with mischief all over his handsome face before he leans in and that mouth of his goes to work.

  God, how can he do this to me, every single time? He makes my body sing.

  He’s just barely brushing his tongue back and forth over my lips, gently touching me, teasing me. I plunge one hand into his hair and urge him to lick harder, suck harder, but he reaches up and takes my hand away and sets it on the countertop.

  So much for being helpful.

  “Rhys.”

  “Patience,” he murmurs against me, then licks up to my clit, making my hips jerk, but licks back down again.

  “Killing me.”

  I feel him grin against me. His hands travel down my calves to my feet, and he rubs them—rubs them!—as he continues to lick me. Jesus, it’s sensory overload. My breath is heaving. Sparks of electricity are shooting through every nerve in my body.

  “I want you, Rhys.”

  “Right here,” he says.

  “In me.”

  Suddenly, he stands and boosts me off the countertop. “Not yet.”

  “That was just mean.”

  He chuckles and leads me to the hallway. Finally! He’s taking me to the bedroom. Thank God, because I was about to beg.

  And that just won’t do.

  But suddenly, I’m caged against the wall, and he’s leaning into me. I can smell myself on his mouth so I stand on tip-toe and lick him, right across his lips.

  My inner flirt is very pleased.

  Rhys groans and leads me to the stairs, but I stop short. He glances down at me with a raised brow. “Problem?”

  “No, I just can’t wait to do this.” I unfasten his jeans, pull his pants and shorts off, tossing them to the side. “Sit.”

  “Sit? On the steps?”

  I nod and kneel as he complies. His cock is already at full attention. Rhys watches with wide eyes as I take him in my hand firmly and brush my thumb over the tip before licking him from his scrotum, up the underside to the head and take him in my mouth, against my tongue.

  “Fucking hell, Gabby.”

  I can’t believe I’ve never done this to him before. He never gives me the chance. He just takes over, and that’s fine, but I love making him crazy too.

  Rhys leans back on the steps and alternates between dropping his head back and staring down at me as I work him over. His breath is choppy. His fingers are in my hair, gathering it into a ponytail to hold it out of my way as I lick, suck, and just barely skim the edge of my teeth over him.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re good at that.”

  I smile up at him, damn proud of myself. I don’t have a lot of practice in this area, or any area when it comes to sex really, so the fact that he’s enjoying it is a huge boost to my sexual ego.

  I’m massaging his balls, which tighten, and I can tell he’s about to come.

  “Stop.”

  I shake my head, wanting to make him explode, but he stands suddenly and pulls me to my feet, leading me up the stairs.

  “Damn it, I wasn’t done!”

  “Gabby, we’re just getting started.”

  I’m pouty as he leads me to the bed, but when I see the heat in his gaze as he strips my clothes from my body, I lick my lips in anticipation of what’s going to happen next.

  Because knowing Rhys as well as I do now, it’s going to be fantastic.

  He scoops me up and lays me on the bed, but instead of covering me with his body, he begins to massage me.

  I appreciate the gesture, but I’m on fire here!

  “Rhys.”

  “I love your skin.”

  “Seriously, I need you inside me.” He glances up at me, but continues to massage my legs.

  “You have the best legs I’ve ever seen.”

  “They’re short.”

  “They’re perfect.”

  I snort, and he narrows his eyes on me. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Nope.” I shake my head, resigned to the massage rather than mind-blowing sex.

  “Spread your legs wider.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  I comply, but he still doesn’t move up my body to push inside me. Instead, his hands massage higher on my thighs, then he shoves his hands under my ass and lifts me to his mouth, as if I’m simply a piece of fruit.

  Holy hell.

  I brace my feet on his shoulders as he lowers his face to me and takes his time licking me, lightly again. Frustratingly lightly.

  What’s the female version of blue balls? ‘Cause that’s what I have right now.

  But then he licks my clit, just a bit harder, pulls
it between his lips, and sends me right off into space.

  I cry out, gripping the bedding in my fists. Rhys lowers me to the bed, then flips me to my tummy, tugs my ass up into the air, and slaps it good and hard on the right cheek.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” I reply immediately.

  “Good girl. Grab onto the headboard,” he instructs me, his voice harsh. I have to stretch out, flat on the bed, to reach the railings and grip them in my fists. “Don’t let go.” He rubs his palm over my bottom in slow, hypnotizing circles, then drops his fingers into my folds, sending my hips back against him, and finally I hear the tear of a foil packet and he guides himself inside me.

  Oh. My. God.

  He covers me completely with his long, lean body and presses his lips to my neck, then beside my ear.

  “Your body makes me fucking crazy,” he whispers. “I always want to take it slow, and then I can’t.”

  “Next time,” I whisper. “Just fuck me, Rhys.”

  He growls and picks up the pace, pushing harder, just a little faster. His hands cover mine, holding on tightly to the bed. Suddenly, he pulls out of me, gently guides my hands away from the iron rungs, and turns me over. He’s sweating, panting, and the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

  Rather than lie back and let him have his way, I take him in my mouth, tasting him and me.

  “Holy fuck,” he growls. “Gabrielle.” His hands are immediately in my hair, as if he’s torn between making me stop and encouraging me to continue.

  So, I just keep going until every drop of me is licked off of him.

  “I thought I should clean you off,” I say with a sassy smile as I lie back on the bed and open my legs, then crook my finger at him, inviting him to join me.

  “You surprise the shit out of me,” he says as he kisses my belly, and then each of my breasts, teasing the nipples with his nose and tongue. The change in pace is fun, going from wild and urgent to lazy and playful.

  He slips back inside me and covers me once more, his arms braced on either side of my head, hands in my hair, mouth just inches from my own.

  “Every time I slip inside you is like the first time,” he murmurs. “It’s so fucking amazing.”

  “Mmm,” I agree and close my eyes as he moves in long, slow strokes. “You fit me perfectly.”