Phoenix Flying

by Kaitlin Maitland

  Christ he was hard. Without a second thought, Gabriel adjusted his cock. A hiss escaped his mouth when his hand made contact with the painfully rigid flesh of his shaft. Beside him, Connor cocked his head in a manner that told Gabriel he knew exactly what was going on.

  Anne’s chignon was starting to come undone. Wisps of soft brown hair brushed against the nape of her neck and curled damply around her ears. Gabriel wanted to see it all down, spread against his pillow as he rose above her and spread her generous thighs to push his erection into her welcoming heat.

  Jessa was talking to her, saying something that made a pretty rose blush color her tanned skin from her chest to her cheeks. Then just like that, she swiveled her head to look at him.

  Gabriel felt exposed in his lust. He was naked in his longing for a woman who probably had no interest whatsoever in the kind of no-strings-attached liaison he had in mind.

  “I’m going back out front,” Gabriel told Connor, shoving the cage door open and stepping into the vestibule.

  He flung the heavy door out of the way. It was cool outside and he welcomed the chill. He felt his sanity begin to return, bit by bit. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. That kind of behavior wasn’t normally something he exhibited. He was calm, rational, and completely in control of his base urges.

  He hadn’t had sex in two years.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the group of six approaching the entrance. A mixed bunch. He watched them flash their IDs before they pushed the door open to go inside. Business was picking up as the night grew later. It usually did. Gabriel welcomed the distraction.

  “Hey, sexy, care to create a public display with me tonight?”

  It took more effort than usual to give the svelte redhead a solicitous smile. She was pretty enough, in the traditional sense. Complexion pale as milk, long silky strawberry hair, wide blue eyes rimmed in artificially dark lashes, and full lips that would look hot as hell wrapped around someone’s else’s dick. She was most definitely not his type.

  “You all alone tonight, Sasha?” Gabriel did his best to be pleasant. She was a nice enough girl, just pushy about wanting what she couldn’t have.

  She gave him a gamine grin. “Nope, you’re here with me.”

  “Except I’m out here and you’re going in there.”

  Her stiletto heels lifted her height to just a few inches below his chin. Her red dress had more slits than fabric, the style obviously designed to show off her sleek, greyhound-like build. He wondered how she walked in the outfit. Her butt could barely move in the tight dress, and her heels didn’t look substantial enough to hold her admittedly low body weight.

  She stood on tiptoe and hooked her hands over his right shoulder, hanging off his body. “Come on, Gabe. When are you going to let me show you what I can do?”

  His temper began a slow boil. He detested the nickname Gabe. Normally he brushed it off. Tonight, his already frayed control wasn’t up to the challenge.

  Sasha lifted herself higher and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I want to wrap my lips around your cock and suck you off. I want to feel you come on my face.”

  Something in his gut twisted. The words “money shot” rattled around in his brain. He knew some guys got off on it. If Sasha’s words rang true, some women did too. Gabriel didn’t. He didn’t make a habit of coming in a woman’s mouth, let alone spraying his load across her face. Blowjobs were all well and good, but he wanted his lover to enjoy the feel of his cock in her pussy. He wanted to watch her climax first, feel her come apart around him before he let his orgasm loose inside her body. The way he would with Anne.

  Dammit. His cock was going hard again.

  “I knew I could turn you on, baby.” Sasha’s hand stroked the outline of his erection behind his fly.

  He gently removed her hand from his crotch. “Not tonight, although I know you’ll have a whole herd of admirers when you step through that door.” He reached out and opened it wide, hoping to usher her through without a scene.

  It happened quickly, and yet was burned into his brain as if it had occurred in slow motion. Sasha slung her arms around his neck and gave him a lingering kiss, taking his lower lip between her teeth and giving it a nip just as Anne walked out the front door.

  Gabriel froze.

  “I’ll see you later, Gabe.” Sasha didn’t even spare Anne a glance when she sashayed into the bar.

  Anne felt six shades of stupid as she got an eyeful of Gabriel kissing the stunning redhead. The woman had legs long enough to wrap around his waist twice and a mouth genetically designed for sin.

  The jolt in her midsection had nothing to do with being turned on at the thought of them having sex and everything to do with a shot of jealousy that made very little sense. How could she feel jealous over Gabriel’s involvement with a beautiful woman who was obviously perfect for him?

  When would she learn? Men like Gabriel didn’t belong with women like her. They belonged with women like that redheaded temptress. The most Anne could ever hope to expect from someone like Gabriel or Alex, or even Connor, was to watch from the sidelines while they engaged in hot, sweaty, animalistic sex.

  She should e-mail Dave and see if he was willing to try again. He was probably the best she could ever hope for.

  “Anne,” he rumbled.

  She flashed Gabriel a smile that hopefully didn’t look as false as it felt. “It was really nice meeting you. Have a great night!”

  Without another word, she strode purposefully down the street back the way she’d come. She could feel his gaze focused on her back until she turned a corner just to get out of the line of fire.

  Once out of sight she began taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. The unexpected sting of tears made her want to scream. She was acting ridiculous. This was real life, not some fairy tale, and in real life Darwin had proposed the theory of survival of the fittest because that’s how things worked.

  She slowed her steps and tried to control her breathing. She was racing about as if she was trying to run home. But really, what would that solve? There was nobody waiting for her.

  Her core was still hot and achy from the scene she’d witnessed inside the bar. Surely that was partially responsible for the momentary loss of her mental faculties. She was a rational woman who had a lot going for her. Just not in the body department.

  Of course, there were more important things in life than being thin and dating a really hot guy who provided fabulous sex on demand. She wasn’t really looking for that anyway.

  After inhaling deeply, she exhaled long and slow. Adjusting her pace, she let herself meander back toward her apartment on a footpath bordered by flowering bushes and plants. The scent of jasmine tinged the air with spicy promise, and she could just barely make out the sound of a live band playing in one of the restaurants around the corner.

  Anne thought carefully about the way she’d phrased her online profile summary. She’d spent a lot of time making certain the wording was exactly right. At the time she hadn’t considered the necessity of using the damn thing to remind herself of her goals.

  Single white female, divorced, financially secure, independent and fun-loving, seeking single male, any race or ethnicity. The right man will be financially secure, unattached, and able to hold down an intelligent, two-sided conversation.

  That, in a nutshell, was why a man like Gabriel was not for her. Anne didn’t want some Neanderthal who spoke in a series of grunts and monosyllabic sentences. Not even if he looked delectable in cargo pants and combat boots. Not even when she instinctively knew there was a whole slab of sculpted muscle beneath his black T-shirt, just waiting for her tongue to trace its way…

  Argh! Obsess much?

  It really was too bad that good looking and intelligent didn’t usually go hand in hand. If her ex had taught her anything, it was not to expect an even moderately attractive man to be satisfied with playing in his own yard. Which left Anne with a desire to choose her next partner based on h
is mental and emotional repertoire and not his physical prowess.

  Her phone buzzed, rattling against her keys inside her handbag. She paused to dig it out, glancing at the display and deciding it was actually possible to summon the devil by thinking about him.

  “Hello, Paul, did you need something?” She infused her voice with a healthy dose of blasé designed to tell him she was completely unbothered by his call.

  There was a snort on the other end of the line. “You know, refusing to call me by my given name instead of my last name is a childish manifestation of your insecurity.”

  Note to self—never again get involved with a psychiatrist. “Now that you’ve overanalyzed me once again, Paul, how about you get to the point?”

  “I seem to remember you being more polite when we first met.”

  “No doubt I exhausted my supply of politeness after the third or fourth extramarital affair,” she retorted.

  “Whatever.” She could practically hear the eye roll. “I was calling to remind you of the get-together next weekend at the club.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn. “I wouldn’t forget my own father’s retirement party. I’m not ready to be committed just yet.” Although, she certainly would be after attending this particular event. There was nothing like a surprise party for your own father who just happened to be one of the partners in your ex-husband’s psychiatric practice. Lovely.

  “Shall I tell Rochelle to put you down for one…? Or are you bringing someone?”

  It was impossible to miss the mockery in his words. Anne ground her teeth together and counted to five. “Actually, I’m dating someone new so I’ll be bringing him along.” Just as soon as she met him.

  “Oh, how nice. See you then I suppose.”

  The bastard hung up without another word, and Anne was left feeling deflated.

  Rochelle was Paul’s new wife. The one he probably wouldn’t cheat on because she was a nymphomaniac. She was also the one he’d been trying to permanently snare in between all the other pieces of tail he’d chased over the twenty-plus years he’d been married to Anne.

  If fate played nice, the guy she’d arranged to have dinner with the following night would be her Prince Charming. If she were really lucky, he’d be taller than her, a good dresser, and a successful entrepreneur. At this point she would settle for him being willing.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “You’re awful quiet. What’s on your mind?”

  Gabriel glanced up and offered Emory a smile, not pausing in his task of putting the chairs up on the tables. He didn’t particularly enjoy the chore of sweeping and mopping the bar after it closed, but for some reason he was eager to immerse himself in the mundane and familiar routine tonight.

  “A smile, huh? That’s all I get? No explanation? No insight?” Emory tossed her curly ponytail over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can be pretty stubborn. Just ask Alex.”

  “I don’t have to ask Alex. I’ve seen you use your mouth to make him come even when he’s trying to hold off.” Gabriel enjoyed the mixture of pride and embarrassment on Emory’s face. For whatever reason, she took mastering the art of oral pleasure very seriously.

  “Jessa said you seemed to really like her friend earlier.” Emory refused to be sidetracked. “Is that why you’re preoccupied?”

  He repeated the process of putting the chairs up on the next table, and the next, and still Emory didn’t show any sign of giving up her quest for answers. Jessa’s whopping supply of feminine intuition was enough trouble. Adding Emory to the mix had made it doubly hard for a man to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “It’s just us three, love.” Alex slid his arms around Emory’s waist from behind. He pressed a lingering kiss to the base of her neck. “How about we give Gabriel something to keep him warm tonight?”

  Gabriel could see Emory’s pupils dilate as arousal swept her nervous system. The familiar excitement suffused his blood and desire hardened his cock, reminding him that he hadn’t allowed himself a release earlier that evening. He was too busy making his exit just to get away from Anne.

  Even the memory of her passion sent lust curling through his system. He gripped the chair he held until the wood creaked.

  Alex caught Gabriel’s eye, a smirk twisting one corner of his mouth before he placed the palm of one hand on Emory’s neck and turned her head up to meet his kiss. The couple sank into the contact, tongues entwining as Alex dominated his lover’s mouth.

  Gabriel fumbled the chair he held up onto the table. The air churning in and out of his lungs made him gasp. He was no stranger to watching his long-time friend and the woman who had snagged him body and soul. This though, this was different.

  Gabriel’s thoughts were tangled. He watched Alex slide his hand to Emory’s waistband, unbuckle her baggy pants, and push them to the floor. She wore nothing underneath. The dark strip of close-cropped curls shielding her pussy was on full display. Gabriel had always found Emory sexy though she was nothing like the women he usually took to his bed. It was her unbridled passion that drew him. The way she opened herself so fully to Alex.

  Kicking her booted feet just a little farther apart, Alex slipped his fingers into the cleft of Emory’s pussy. Gabriel groaned when he heard the wet sound of Alex’s hand against her slick folds. She made a high-pitched noise, her head lolling back against Alex’s shoulder. Her eyes closed and her hips jerked as Alex continued to finger-fuck her.

  “Stroke your cock, Gabriel,” Alex urged.

  Any other night, Gabriel would have eagerly complied. It was usually his friends’ passion that fueled his own. Tonight was different. Emory’s narrow hips and flat belly were oddly alien. Gabriel wanted lush hips filling his hands. He wanted to see soft brown curls damp with Anne’s dewy juices when he spread her dimpled thighs. Most of all, he wanted to cup her substantial ass in the palms of his hands when he slid his shaft along her cleft. To feel her full body warm against his when they joined.

  “Gabriel?”

  Alex’s rough voice brought him back to the moment at hand. Horny, irritable, and desperate to hear someone’s cries of passion, Gabriel didn’t even pause to think. “Get your cock out, mate. I’m going to bring her to you.”

  Emory made a startled cry when Gabriel’s hands touched the bare skin at her midriff. He spun her around to face Alex while her lover unbuttoned and unzipped his fly. By the time he had his cock in his hand, Gabriel had already lifted Emory’s slight body.

  Her pants made a soft swishing sound when they hit the floor. Gabriel’s hands slipped down to cup her petite bottom. Holding her gently in place so it didn’t hurt, he waited for Alex to fit the head of his erection against her core.

  Gabriel met Alex’s gaze over Emory’s shoulder. If Alex was surprised Gabriel had taken such a strong initiative, he was too immersed in the satisfaction of sinking balls deep into his lover to mention it. Emory wailed when Alex penetrated her. The sound sent frissons of awareness over every inch of Gabriel’s skin.

  Totally uninhibited, Emory reached up and locked her arms around Gabriel’s neck. The posture anchored her to his chest. Sweat beaded on his brow. He had become the unmoving pillar against which Alex fucked his lover.

  Gabriel could feel Emory’s ass clench against his palms as he held her. Each thrust of Alex into her cunt sent shock waves of awareness through them both. Gabriel moaned. Fluid seeped from the tip of his dick and soaked the inside of his cargos. He wanted to come, needed it, yet knew he would not. Climax hovered just beyond his reach, existing only between the legs of a woman he could not seem to forget.

  Emory arched her back against him, her fingers tugging on the hair at his neck. She shouted Alex’s name a dozen times or more as she came apart in Gabriel’s arms.

  The words slipped from Gabriel’s mouth before he could second-guess them. “Don’t stop, love. Milk his cock.”

  Alex responded with a rocking thrust that hammered Emory’s body against Gabriel’s torso. Gabriel watched his friend’s face co
ntort in spasms of mingled pleasure and pain as he poured his seed into Emory’s womb.

  Emory sighed, her pert little breasts rising and falling beneath her form-fitting top. Gabriel felt a jolt of affection for her warm, giving nature. Affection, but not love, not passion, and nothing close to the utter fascination he’d experienced for someone he’d just barely met a few hours ago. How was that at all reasonable?

  Alex lifted an eyebrow, giving Gabriel an inquisitive look. “Did you take a vow of celibacy I don’t know about?”

  “Obviously not. I think this would violate that sort of thing.” Gabriel put Emory gently on her feet.

  Completely comfortable with her nakedness, Emory propped her hands on her hips. “You won’t say it out loud, but you were affected by Jessa’s friend. What was her name?”

  Alex grinned. “Agnes, wasn’t it?”

  “Adelaide?” Emory picked up her pants and used Gabriel’s arm to steady herself while she slipped them back over her combat boots.

  “No, it was Agatha.” Alex buttoned his pants.

  Gabriel was not amused by their little game. Agnes, Adelaide, Agatha, really? “Her name was Anne.” The words came out a guttural growl.

  “So good of you to remember.” Emory’s mischievous grin was enough to make him grind his teeth in agitation. “I’ll make sure Jessa programs her number into your phone tomorrow so you can call her.”

  “She’s not my type.”

  He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he should’ve bit them back. He’d just handed Emory a new cause to champion. And Emory loved causes. It was one of her most endearing traits, when she limited her crusades to things that did not involve Gabriel’s love life or lack thereof.

  Emory’s gaze narrowed. “Because she’s a big girl?”

  “You’re nutters if you believe that rubbish. I fancy a woman with a little more meat on her bones.” Gabriel realized how that had come out and cleared his throat. After two years in the States he’d managed to get a handle on the amount of British slang that came out of his mouth, if not the accent that coated his words. These days it only slid back into his vocabulary when he was distracted.