His Unlikely Lover (Unwanted #3)

by Natasha Anders

  “Outdoorsy,” Alice sighed blissfully. “I love them outdoorsy.”

  “He does rock climbing to relax,” Bobbi continued, ignoring the interruption.

  “Well, Rick would probably love him,” Lisa grumbled. Her husband was an adrenaline junkie who enjoyed any and all kinds of extreme sports. He had toned it a down a bit since the birth of their son the year before though.

  “He’s very nice,” Bobbi concluded.

  “But . . . ?” the ever-observant Theresa prompted. She might be quiet and sweet but she rarely missed anything.

  “No buts . . . he’s nice, interesting, handsome, intelligent. I like him.” Now the rest of them were eying her skeptically as well.

  “I’m with Theresa,” Bronwyn said. “There’s a but in there somewhere.”

  Her phone buzzed again and she shut her eyes for a brief second before lifting it to her ear.

  “Gabe?” Her voice was more abrupt than she’d intended it to be.

  “Hey,” his deep voice sounded uncertain. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine . . . why?”

  “It’s nothing . . .” There was a long pause. What was going on with him?

  “Gabe, is everything okay? Is my dad okay? Billy?”

  “No. Everything’s fine. It’s rather late, Bobbi.”

  “I know. Which is why I don’t understand why you’re calling me.”

  “When do you think you’ll be home?”

  “What?” She actually drew the phone away from her ear to peer at it incredulously for a moment. “Why?”

  “Your dad is worried.”

  “He is? How do you know that?”

  “I spoke with him earlier.” His voice sounded weird.

  “Well then, I’ll call him and tell him not to worry,” she said, and there was another long silence before he spoke again.

  “Don’t. He’s asleep.”

  “What? Gabe, you’re not making any sense. Are you drunk?”

  “No . . . I mean I had a few drinks but nothing . . .” He sighed, the sound an exasperated huff, and broke off in midsentence. “Look, I just wanted to know when you’d be home.”

  “That’s none of your business,” she told him.

  “Where are you? I could escort you home,” he suggested.

  “For God’s sake, Gabe, you’re being ridiculous. I’m hanging up now.” She disconnected the call before he had a chance to respond and switched the phone off.

  “And that,” Theresa said, pointing at the phone, “would be the but we were discussing earlier.”

  “Oh he’s a butt alright,” Bobbi seethed, and Lisa grinned.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened the other night?” Theresa asked and the rest of them nodded encouragingly.

  “I was drunk and I kissed Gabe,” she said, and more than one pair of eyes widened; only Theresa looked unsurprised.

  “What did he do?” Alice asked.

  “He kissed me back at first and then he stopped. And later that night, he was in his room with his shirt off and I . . . touched him,” she confessed, trying to keep her embarrassment at bay but failing.

  “Touched him? How? Where?” Bronwyn questioned.

  “His chest, he has a gorgeous chest.” There was a chorus of agreeing hums from the other women. “I touched him and he let me, before stopping me.”

  “And what was this phone call about?” Lisa asked, nodding toward the phone in Bobbi’s hand.

  Bobbi sighed and told them everything else that had happened over the weekend since The Kiss and leading up to the bizarre phone call. By the time she had finished they were all staring at her in disbelief.

  “Firstly, Kyle Foster sounds adorable and if it weren’t for the fact that you’re head over heels in love with your idiotic friend, I would totally encourage you to tap that,” Lisa said. “And secondly, Gabe really is a butt but he sounds like a totally confused butt.” The other women laughed but Lisa ignored them, keeping her focus on Bobbi’s flushed face.

  “Personally, I think he wants you and he has no idea how to deal with that,” Theresa stated.

  “I agree,” Bronwyn said.

  “Me too,” Alice concurred and Lisa indicated her agreement with a thumbs up.

  “I’m not his type,” Bobbi said, shaking her head.

  “I wasn’t Sandro’s type,” Theresa pointed out.

  “Pierre preferred tall, skinny, flawless models,” the short, slightly plump, and scarred Alice said.

  “Rick liked to date adrenaline junkies. A nerdy, bookshop owner was a far cry from his usual girlfriends,” Lisa added.

  “Tastes change and what men—or women—think they want, isn’t necessarily the type of person they end up with,” Bronwyn said.

  Sage words that made perfect sense of course, but none of them had had a years-long friendship to lose with the men in question. Bobbi shook her head and pointed to the abandoned vibrator that lay off to the side.

  “What else can that thing do?”

  “It can’t cuddle you afterward, that’s for sure,” Alice said with a frown.

  “Or whisper Italian endearments in your ear.” This from Theresa who had a dreamy gleam in her eyes.

  “Oh my God, you guys are the worst! I give up.” Bronwyn tossed the thing to the side just as her husband, Bryce, walked into the room. It landed at his feet and he looked down at it blankly. A flush crept up his face to the tips of his ears. His sharp ice-blue eyes flew up to meet his wife’s, and she had both hands over her mouth either to stifle a laugh or a scream, Bobbi couldn’t be sure which.

  He said something in sign language that made Bronwyn go bright red, and the other women who could all understand sign language as well, laughed. Bobbi, who wasn’t as adept as they were, felt lost.

  Bryce’s stern face melted into a grin, which made him go from scary to gorgeous in a split second.

  “After Massive Marvin, nothing you ladies do can surprise me anymore,” he said in his carefully modulated voice, referring to a stripper they had all fawned over the previous year on another girls’ night. Bronwyn groaned and covered her eyes, causing Bryce’s grin to widen. “Anyway, I just came to check when you were wrapping it up? I’ve been getting frantic texts.”

  “Sandro?” Theresa asked with an eye roll, once Bryce’s eyes were on her and the man shook his head.

  “Surprisingly not. Gabe.” Every eye in the room focused on Bobbi, who felt her blood pressure rising.

  “That . . .” Words failed her and she shook her head.

  “Well it is getting late and we all have work in the morning,” Theresa pointed out. “And you have a long drive ahead of you, Bobbi.”

  “And since none of you are going to buy any of this stuff, we may as well end now,” Bronwyn said.

  “Hold on, I didn’t say I wouldn’t buy a pair of the . . .” Lisa glared up at Bryce, who was reading her lips avidly. “Do you mind?”

  He laughed and left the room with a wave. The group disbanded soon afterward and Bobbi was left to seethe on the drive home. The roads were fairly empty, which cut ten minutes off her drive. She nearly bypassed her own driveway to head over to Gabe’s but common sense prevailed; she would confront him in the morning. She’d had just about enough of him this weekend.

  CHAPTER SIX

  She let herself into the house, annoyed to find that the alarm was off. She sighed at her father’s carelessness. There were security guards all over the premises, and the property was surrounded by a large electrical fence, but he had to do his bit too. As she headed for the stairs, she heard the explosive noise of an action movie coming from the den and changed course, meaning to give her father a piece of her mind for his negligence.

  “The alarm won’t just set its . . .” Her voice trailed off when Gabe’s tall figure rose from one of the large leather recliners.

  “You’re back,” he stated unnecessarily. She didn’t respond, and a quick glance around the room confirmed that her father wasn’t present.

  �
�Where’s my dad?” she asked.

  “He’s asleep.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I was waiting for you to come home. I was concerned about you.”

  “You have no right to be concerned about me.” She tossed her bag onto one of the chairs and folded her arms across her chest, trying to appear in control despite the fact that her stomach was swarming with butterflies.

  “So what did you and that Kyle guy talk about this afternoon?” he asked, choosing to ignore her last statement, as he took a step toward her. She maintained her position, refusing to step back even though the distance between them now seemed too close for comfort.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but he asked me out.” Her voice was starting to sound shaky; he took another step toward her and Bobbi started to feel like prey.

  “You’re not going out with him,” he murmured confidently, his third step bringing him to within an inch of her. She kept her gaze trained on his chest, refusing to meet his eyes, hating that he knew her so well.

  “What makes you so sure of that?” She tried to sound strong but instead her voice emerged on an uncertain whisper, and he used his forefinger to angle her chin until she met his eyes.

  “Because you want me.”

  With just four words one of her deepest, darkest secrets was out in the open. It lay exposed and writhing like a wounded animal between them and Bobbi was absolutely helpless to deny it. She knew that the truth was there to see, on her face and in her eyes. He could hear it in her ragged breathing and feel it in her racing pulse when he reached down to cup her fragile neck in the palm of his hands. He used his thumbs to stroke the underside of her jaw, sending shudders of pure sensation through her already trembling body.

  “Gabe . . . ,” she whispered, wetting her lips as her eyes fell to his mouth. She watched that mouth stretch into a beautiful smile and then form the most miraculous four words in the world.

  “I want you too.”

  “Oh.” The sound was a gasp of wonder and disbelief. How was this possible?

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss,” he went on to say. “Or how your hands felt on me. How in the hell have I not noticed your gorgeous body before?”

  “Stop,” she whispered, and his eyes darkened in confusion.

  “What?”

  “Stop talking . . . ,” she clarified, before going on tiptoes and plastering her mouth to his. His breath was half gasp and half groan as he leaned into the kiss and took control of it. His hands left her neck and buried themselves in her hair, tugging her head back so that he could deepen the kiss. She parted her lips and his tongue swept in, bringing with it a tidal wave of sensation. She savored every taste, every smell, every sensation . . . She didn’t know how her hands had gotten under his shirt but they were on his hard chest, exploring the contours, the firmness, the dusting of hair, then around his waist up his strong back until her fingers were digging into his wide shoulders.

  She was vaguely aware of him shifting her until her back was braced against the wall. He lifted his head, his eyes glazed, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth swollen.

  “Okay?” he asked, and she nodded. He barely seemed to register the movement before his lips were on her neck, licking and sucking their way down to her collarbone and nuzzling aside the strap of her tank top.

  “These damned tops of yours drive me crazy,” he said thickly, bringing a hand up to assist with the task. Bobbi watched in a daze as he pushed the strap down her shoulder, around her bent elbow and then picked up her wrist to slip it completely off. He repeated the process with the other strap, until just the slight slope of her breasts held the garment up. He paused to inspect his handiwork for a brief moment before manacling both of her wrists in one of his hands and pinning them to the wall above her head.

  “Forget what I said this afternoon.” His eyes ate her up, lingering hungrily on her breasts. “Never wear a bra.”

  He brought his free hand up between their bodies and lightly traced the outer edge of one breast with his fingers. Bobbi’s breath caught and held as she watched that large hand, fascinated by the stark contrast between his dark flesh and the whiteness of her top. One long finger brushed across the sensitive skin above the cotton and Bobbi’s knees weakened.

  “Please,” she whimpered, but he was concentrating so fiercely on the task at hand that he barely seemed to hear her. After forever his hand ever so softly closed over one of her breasts, and he squeezed gently, testing the weight and learning the shape of it. The barrier of cotton between his skin and hers added an element of erotic frustration that drove Bobbi wild. She pushed herself into his hand but he released his hold almost immediately. His hands switched tasks and the other breast received the same tormenting treatment.

  “Gabe . . . more,” she begged, and this time he listened, and his thumb flicked her excruciatingly sensitive peak—the friction of thumb and fabric against the engorged tip made her arch against him, and he hissed when she pushed up against his straining erection.

  “God,” he groaned, releasing her wrists and sweeping her toward the recliner that he had been occupying when she’d first entered the room. He sat down and arranged her on top of him until she sat straddling his lap, her wet core very firmly wedged against his hardness—the denim of her shorts and the fabric of his suit doing nothing to disguise either’s arousal.

  He dragged the tank down to her waist and then just stared at her naked breasts for a long while.

  “Jesus, they’re perfect,” he said reverently, bringing his hands up to cup and explore, tease and torment. He plumped one up and brought it to his lips, laving the tortured crest gently with his hot tongue before sucking it roughly into his mouth. The combination of tender and tough felt amazing, and when he repeated the process with her other breast, she was helpless to prevent the inevitable from happening. She had wanted him for so long that she was primed for an explosion, having his mouth on her breasts while she instinctively rode the ridge of his erection was more than enough to send her spinning into the biggest orgasm of her life.

  She was coming! The knowledge nearly propelled Gabe down the same blissful path but he somehow managed to keep himself under control. Barely.

  She was so damned hot. Her body tensed, her breath hitched, and the already sexy back and forth movement of her hips became a deep, slow grind as she pushed herself against him, taking her pleasure like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. He tried to prolong it, sucking the hard bead of her nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue to maximize her pleasure, while his free hand played with her other breast, stroking the swollen tip with his thumb.

  She came quietly—with a held breath, a series of soft moans, and then a long exhalation. She wasn’t a screamer, his Bobbi, and damned if he didn’t find that a huge turn-on too. He gave her nipple one last, regretful kiss before grudgingly releasing the firm globe of her breast. She slumped against him with her face buried in his neck.

  He could feel her wet heat against his aching penis and it was all he could do to prevent himself from thrusting against her to achieve his own satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around her waist, allowing his hands to drape over her firm, curvy bum and held her trembling body against his.

  He wanted her more than his next breath, but he wasn’t going to allow this to go any further until they’d established a few ground rules. If push came to shove, their friendship was too important to mess up, and if she felt that it wouldn’t be able to survive a temporary affair then this “interlude” would have to be the extent of it. He figured that it should be relatively easy to return to normal with Bobbi, whom he already cared for deeply, after they’d gotten this craziness out of their systems. He just needed to know that she would be on board with the mutually beneficial arrangement he had in mind for them.

  After a few painfully long moments, her breathing finally regulated and her limp, sated body started to grow tense as awareness retur
ned to her. She brought her hands between their bodies and pushed against his chest until he loosened his grip around her waist enough for her to slide into a sitting position on his lap. He bit back a groan at the movement, still unbearably turned on and she grimaced apologetically.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, tucking the damp hair of her fringe behind an ear.

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Doesn’t feel okay.” She deliberately slid herself up and then down against the hard column that she was straddling. “Feels rather uncomfortable to me.”

  “Stop that.” His fingers dug into her flesh when she did another sinuous up and down shimmy. Where the hell did this seductive minx come from? He would never have taken Bobbi for such an accomplished tease.

  “But I want to take care of it.” She pouted, and he couldn’t resist kissing that pout away. He kept the kiss short and sweet, not wanting to get carried away again and this time when she leaned back, he took the opportunity to—quite regretfully—drag her top back up over her pert breasts.

  “Later,” he promised. “But we have to talk, Bobbi.” Her eyes reflected concern as she leaned back to study his face.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “We do.”

  “Like I said before, I want you . . . very much. It’s weird having these . . . feelings for you but the attraction is so overpowering that getting you naked is pretty much all I’ve been able to think about over the last two days. But there are other factors to consider here, sweetheart.”

  Bobbi understood that this was easier for her because she’d felt this way about him for years but for him it was brand new. He probably felt as weird as she had that first time she had looked at Gabe and saw someone other than just a good friend. She would never forget that moment, on her birthday six years before. Gabe had been out of town on business. He had rushed to get back before midnight and had come straight to the Richmond house to present her with his gift—a charm bracelet filled with tiny screwdrivers, cars, wrenches, nuts, and bolts. The trinkets must have taken him months to collect and it had been absolutely perfect. Wholly impractical since she couldn’t wear it to work but perfect nonetheless.