Phoenix Flying

by Kaitlin Maitland

  He held her gaze as he moved deeply inside her body. The wet sounds of sex filled the tiny space, and their combined scent saturated her senses. She touched his face with her fingers, tracing the strength of his jaw, the noble line of his nose, and the proud arch of his brows. When the pads of her thumbs skated over his full lower lip he trembled in her arms.

  The slide of his cock inside her pussy was building a friction so powerful she could have caught fire. Anne clenched her ass cheeks together to try to stave off her orgasm. She wanted this to last forever. Every second might be the last, and she didn’t want any of them to end.

  Yet when Gabriel clenched his jaw tight she knew he was close. His eyes glittered with desire and she was lost. Climax exploded through her limbs like a nuclear explosion. Her inner muscles clamped down and milked him with every bit of strength she possessed. Gabriel shouted and poured his seed into her body, straining with each thrust to get as close and as deep as possible.

  Gabriel became slowly aware of the wolf whistles about the time it registered that the patrons on the other side of the cage probably had a stellar view of Anne’s pretty bum. Since he’d just forcefully and publicly branded her as his, Gabriel didn’t necessarily care. He wasn’t sure how Anne felt about it though. So with that in mind he lowered her body gently to the floor and tugged her dress back down to her thighs.

  She slumped against him, still quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He held her close. It felt so good to have her in his arms. He had the thought that this was what a relationship was supposed to feel like. He’d never experienced it before. Not even with Franny.

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “I feel like I should be embarrassed.”

  “But?”

  “I’m not.” She gazed up at him, mischief in her eyes. “Look at you. How could I ever be embarrassed that someone like you wants someone like me?”

  There it was again, the intimation that she was somehow less than he was. “You keep using that phrase. ‘Someone like you.’ Why?”

  “Because nature never intended fat girls like me to be with gorgeous men like you.” She cast a look over her shoulder, glancing at the people on the other side of the cage. “I bet there are more than a few women in there wondering if I’m paying you, or if you feel sorry for me.”

  Gabriel was outraged. Not just at her casual degradation of herself, but at the idea that what she was suggesting might actually be true. “Jessa and Emory don’t feel that way.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t speak for Emory since I don’t really know her, but I know Jessa doesn’t feel that way because she’s experienced those things from the other side. When the two of us used to go out with our other women friends, we were the fat girls that nobody else wanted. Sometimes I think that’s why the others wanted us along. They felt like it made them look better.”

  Gabriel remembered some of the things he’d heard Connor and Alex say about “country-club bitches” and felt as if he was only beginning to see the tip of the iceberg. What made women want to treat each other with such callous disregard for feelings? What made men buy into cultural definitions of beauty and status? As far as he was concerned, they could all go to hell.

  “Pure sodding rubbish. The whole lot of it,” Gabriel grumbled. “Like the whole bloody world has gone spare.”

  Anne laughed. The bright sound threw him for a moment, until he realized she was laughing at his tirade of British slang. He took her hand firmly in his and kissed her knuckles. If he could hear more of that laugh he’d spout off every single phrase he could remember and make some up as he went along.

  “Are the two of you ever going to come inside?” Jessa grabbed the cage with her fingers and gave it a rattle. “Emory is dying to talk to you, Anne. She can’t wait to hear how you snagged Mr. I-never-date.”

  “Go on, love.” Gabriel brushed a gentle kiss across her lips and gave her a nudge. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It was late and Anne was feeling pretty tipsy. Anne, Emory, and Jessa had been giggling and trading cocktails for the last three hours. They’d commandeered a table near the middle of the bar and were busy telling tales. If Anne had been intimidated by Emory’s pixie-like slender body and riot of black curls, she wasn’t anymore. The tiny woman who’d managed to snag good-time bartender Alex Dalesio was more down to earth than anyone Anne had ever met.

  “I’m pretty sure Alex only proposed to me because my brother had just proposed to his boyfriend, but I have to say that I don’t really care why he did it.” Emory waggled the all-important finger where a black carbide ring glinted in the dim overhead lights. “I’ve never been this happy in my whole life.”

  Jessa chuckled and took a swig of orange liqueur straight from the bottle. “I never thought I’d get married again. Honestly I didn’t even think Connor and I would marry. But we did and I’ve never been so glad.”

  “Why?” Anne asked softly. “Didn’t you want to?”

  “Not really.” Jessa sobered as her gaze automatically found her broad-shouldered, smooth-headed husband standing at attention across the room. The corner of his mouth kicked up into a smile. “I needed to get over the idea that commitment was some kind of death sentence. It wasn’t the marriage part of it really. It was the forever part. We had a tiny ceremony at the courthouse with Alex and Gabriel as witnesses, and then we spent about five days in bed to celebrate.”

  “Sounds yummy,” Emory said with a giggle.

  Jessa grinned. “Oh it was, but it was also important for me to see that nothing changed. That stupid piece of paper didn’t change him. It didn’t change me. And it sure as hell didn’t change how we felt about each other.”

  “I want to get married again,” Anne confessed softly. “I want the fairy tale to come true at least once in my life. Not the froufrou dress or the big ceremony, I had those with Paul. I want the happily ever after. I want to introduce people to my husband. I want to get interrupted by his calls and share silly inside jokes and groan about in-laws.” Anne considered what was actually underneath everything else. “I want to be wanted by someone who isn’t ashamed to show the whole world that I belong to him.”

  Emory glanced up at Gabriel. “Sweetie, I think you’re more than halfway there. He can’t stop staring at you.”

  Anne could feel his gaze. It gave her impossible dreams. Impossible because he’d been so blunt with her from the very beginning. She refused to give in and meet those cobalt-blue eyes. Instead she stared at the scarred tabletop as though the secrets of the universe were carved into the wood.

  “Anne?” Jessa put the bottle down and stared. “What’s wrong?”

  “Whatever is going on between us is just sex.” Anne exhaled deeply, wishing she could blame the alcohol for her melancholy mood. “He told me from the beginning that”—she lowered her voice to imitate Gabriel’s distinctive brogue—“a bloke like me isn’t suited for long-term relationships.”

  Emory looked outraged. “That fucking coward!”

  “I’m with her.” Jessa jerked her head toward Emory. “He’s just scared because of stuff that’s happened in the past.”

  “Yeah, with Franny.” Anne glanced up, realizing the two women were surprised Gabriel had shared his past with her. “We talked about it. She might be his reason for not getting into any more long-term relationships, but it’s his decision and I respect that.”

  “Is that why you don’t want him to go to the party with you on Friday night?” Jessa asked hesitantly.

  Anne thought about Stewart. He wasn’t Gabriel and never would be. But Anne was done settling for less than what she wanted. She wanted a happily ever after. Stewart might not be her first choice to play the prince, but he was several steps up from guys like Dave the Date. Eventually she could learn to be happy with Stewart. Even if she had to kill herself to make it happen.

  “Ugh!” Emory slapped the tabletop. “It’s just not fair! You guys are perfect together. I can’t
believe he’s such a dumbass.”

  Alex leaned down and wrapped his arms around Emory before kissing her neck. “Who’s a dumbass? Not me I hope?”

  Anne flushed red-hot as she realized the Phoenix men had just invaded their “girl time.” Had any of them heard her whining about Gabriel not wanting a commitment?

  “Alex, Alex, Alex,” Connor rumbled. “After all these years you’d think you’d have figured out that when you ask a stupid question…”

  Jessa sent Connor a heated look from beneath her lashes. “I know who’s not a dumbass.”

  Connor’s chuckle was so low it reverberated around the bar. He pulled a chair out and sat down beside his wife. Anne wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden appearance. Was this her cue to leave?

  Gabriel plunked three bottles of liquor down on the table. They were joined seconds later by a tray of shot glasses. “Right then, shall we let the ladies choose the game?”

  The game? Anne gazed around, feeling as though she’d just found herself transported to another planet.

  Emory bounced in her seat. “Oh! I’ve got one! Let’s play the name game.”

  “No way,” Jessa argued. “Gabriel uses British TV stars, and nobody knows if he’s bluffing or not.”

  “Flip, Sip, or Strip?” Emory suggested.

  Alex raised his hand like a kid at school. “Can we just strip and save time?”

  Anne’s head was spinning. Were they talking about drinking games? She hadn’t even played those sorts of games in college. It was time for her to go home. She started to get up, but Gabriel moved his chair in close and slung his arm around her shoulders. The heat of his body melted her resolve. Was there really any harm in pretending just a little longer?

  “It’s been a while since we’ve played I Never,” Connor mused. “There’s no possible way Alex can cheat at that one.”

  “Because I have to drink every single turn,” Alex groused.

  “How about Questions?” Jessa gave Connor a meaningful look that he seemed to immediately understand.

  “Ooo, that’s a good one.” Emory leaned over and started handing out shot glasses. Everyone but Connor got one. For some reason she placed two in front of him. When Anne frowned, Emory only laughed. “It’s almost impossible to get him the least bit drunk. He could down half a case of tequila and still sound perfectly normal. We make him do two shots every turn to even things out.”

  Anne wrinkled her nose. “That seems totally unfair.”

  “You’ll change your mind in an hour,” Alex promised.

  She glanced at Gabriel from the corner of her eye. He was relaxed in his chair with a smile on his handsome face. A feeling of elation began creeping its way over her. She’d never experienced anything quite like this before in her life. Connor and Jessa, Alex and Emory, Gabriel and Anne. Three couples just hanging out together and having a good time.

  It was like having a life.

  Except Anne and Gabriel weren’t really a couple. As much as Anne wanted to be in a relationship with Gabriel, she wasn’t. He didn’t want a relationship.

  Her good sense forced her to speak. “I should really be getting home.” She nibbled her lip and smiled at Jessa, wishing she had the guts to say what she felt. “I’ve had a wonderful time.” Anne started to stand up.

  Gabriel tugged her right back down to her seat. “Don’t go.”

  Gabriel wished he had the balls to say what he really wanted to say. Don’t ever go. Never leave my side. I need you in my life.

  Franny’s rejection had sent him across an ocean. If Anne did the same, Gabriel wasn’t sure there was a place remote enough to hide from the pain it would cause. He’d watched her all night. She’d bloomed in the hours she’d spent in the bar with Emory and Jessa. He’d watched her grow animated, her graceful hands accentuating her words as she boldly said whatever came into her head without worry about judgment. She was sassy and sexy and clever. She was everything Gabriel could ever imagine wanting in a woman. He just wasn’t sure she really wanted him.

  Gabriel was an ex-military man who worked as a bouncer in a bar. He’d never taken up his title or the trappings that went with it. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of the land or anything else. He had his pension and that was about it. He wasn’t a doctor like Anne’s last husband or her father. He wasn’t some smooth businessman like Stewart the ponce. Gabriel was just Gabriel and when push came to shove it had never been enough.

  Anne seemed to waver for a moment before settling in her chair. “I suppose I could see what this game is you’re talking about. Just for a few more minutes.”

  “Atta girl,” Alex cheered. “Okay, so here’s the rules. One person asks someone else a question. They have to answer real quick, no laughing or thinking about making the answer all politically correct. Just answer. If you can’t answer or don’t want to, you take a shot.” Alex glanced at Connor. “Or two. Loser gets to ask the next question.”

  “Okay, sounds simple enough,” Anne mused. “Who starts?”

  “I will!” Emory was giddy as a schoolgirl. She looked right at Alex. “How many women did you sleep with before you met me?”

  The absolutely blank expression on Alex’s face made the whole table howl with laughter. He scowled and poured himself a shot of whiskey. “That’s grossly unfair, Emory. You should at least make sure I know the answer.”

  Emory wrinkled her nose as he tossed back the shot. “Serves you right for being such a man ho.”

  Alex turned to Anne. “Who would you screw right here in the bar?”

  “Obviously Gabriel, although thus far we’ve never actually had sex inside the bar. I think the entryway is the closest we’ve gotten.” Anne gave Alex a prim look. “But I think you knew that already.”

  Connor’s deep belly laugh rolled across the bar, punctuated by Emory and Jessa’s giggles. Gabriel wondered if his smile was going to fall right off his face. Sassy and clever, a knockout combination if he’d ever heard one.

  He realized Anne was staring right at him, and he gave her a wink. It warmed his heart when she blushed.

  Bloody hell.

  * * *

  Anne was pretty sure she had never in her life been this drunk. She’d lost count of how many shots she’d taken. Most of them had happened not because she didn’t know the answers to the questions, but because she couldn’t stop giggling while she answered. Connor was a total hard-ass when it came to the rules. No slurring and no giggling. Not to mention he took two shots every time his turn came around the table whether he answered or not, and the man hadn’t been the least bit tipsy.

  The alcohol hadn’t affected Gabriel either. Why did that make him even sexier?

  She stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out if it was really Gabriel’s tolerance that made him more attractive or if it was just part of the package. The only light in the room came from a dim lamp on the nightstand. It occurred to Anne that she might want to spend her time wondering where she was instead of ruminating on Gabriel’s hotness factor.

  The room looked familiar. She rolled to her side and blinked. The nightstand came into focus. She noticed a single book lying on the surface. The Hobbit. The bookmark had moved.

  When on earth did Gabriel find time to read?

  Somehow she’d managed to get from the bar downstairs to Gabriel’s bed. Had she passed out? And how had he managed to get her all the way up the stairs on his own? Had it taken all three guys to drag her up here?

  Anne had visions of Gabriel, Connor, and Alex struggling to squeeze her oversize body through the narrow doorway. For some reason this made her giggle. The alcohol still coursing through her system blunted the sharp edges of embarrassment. It was actually sort of liberating.

  She wiggled her toes. Her shoes were missing. Hopefully they were in better condition than her panties. Gabriel had ripped those and discarded the scraps hours ago. In fact—she put her hands over her mouth to muffle her laughter—it was quite possible that what was left of her underwear was still
on the black-and-white tiled floor in the entryway.

  Anne squirmed until she managed to get her dress unzipped. Then she wriggled some more until it came off. Feeling more relaxed and at ease than she’d ever been in her life, she slung it across the room. She’d been aiming at the lonely chair stationed in the far corner. She missed completely. Her bra didn’t make it any closer to her target.

  “I see you’re awake.”

  She twisted her head toward the sound of Gabriel’s warm baritone. He looked completely sober. How was that possible? She’d watched him consume more than his fair share of alcohol.

  “How are you feeling?” He braced one shoulder against the door frame.

  He was just hot. There was no getting around that fact. From those impossibly wide shoulders and muscular arms, to his lean hips and athletic legs. His face had such an amazing amount of character to it. With his brilliant blue eyes, it was nearly impossible not to be mesmerized at first glance. Which apparently she was since he’d asked a question and she seemed incapable of formulating a response.

  A grin played at the corners of his generous mouth. “You weren’t naked when I brought you in here, love. What happened?”

  “It’s your bed. I figured it was a good place to be naked.” She boldly raked his body with her gaze. “You should join me.”

  He pushed off the door frame and stepped into the room. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, definitely.” She flopped to her back and stretched languorously. It felt good, mostly because she could feel him watching her. There was something erotic about being naked in this man’s bed. No embarrassment, no fear of rejection, not now when she sensed how much he wanted her.

  Gabriel made a low noise in his throat that sent chills racing down Anne’s spine. “You’re more than a little tipsy, love. What makes you think you won’t regret this in the morning?”

  “I will never regret one moment spent with you, Gabriel. I’ll only regret the fact that there isn’t an unlimited supply of them.” She wondered if he could feel the scorching heat of her desire from several feet away. “Undress for me, please. It’s a damn shame to hide that gorgeous body.”