“What?” he murmured huskily. “Tell me what you want, Lex.”
“Your hands on me.”
“But they are.”
She muttered something low under her breath and he laughed softly, sliding her panties aside. “Oh, you mean like this, cara.” He set his thumb to her bare flesh. She was wet and slick beneath him. His quick intake of breath told her he’d noticed. His low growl told her he approved.
She thought she might die as he feathered his thumb across the taut nub of her. Began a maddening rhythm destined to drive her crazy. “More,” she demanded.
He slid the tip of his thumb inside her. Held her there. Alex groaned. “Please.”
“Because you asked so nicely...” He eased a long, elegant finger inside of her. Moved his thumb back to her center. “By the way, Elena keeps her window open.”
“What?”
He brought his mouth to her ear. “Don’t worry. If you scream, I’ll shut you up.”
Hot, he was so hot when he talked like that. She squeezed her eyes shut as he eased his finger in and out of her, kept his thumb on her center in that maddening pressure. She shifted her legs further apart, beyond caring about Elena or anything else. He slid a second finger inside her, stretching her, filling her, building her pleasure to an almost unbearable level. “Like that, angel?”
“Yes.” Her body was so tight she felt as if she was going to explode. “Gabe, please I need to—”
“Come?” He dug her face out from his shoulder and tipped her chin up. “You know what I was thinking about last night in the hot tub?”
She gave him a tortured look.
“What you’d sound like when you came apart under my hands.”
Her lashes came down over her eyes. His thumb worked the throbbing center of her pleasure; his fingers plunged deep, touching her in a spot that pushed her close to the edge. “God,” she murmured. “Please.”
He covered her mouth with his. Slid his tongue against hers in the same erotic rhythm as his fingers were sinking into her. She let herself drown in the heat of it, let him take her over the edge with a series of ruthless plunges that made her scream. Then moan his name into his mouth as he drew out her orgasm to impossible heights. To a hot, shimmering pleasure that radiated out from her core and seemed never ending.
“I knew you would be like that,” he murmured, pulling his mouth from hers when she’d finally quieted.
“Like what?”
“All in.” He lifted his fingers to trace her trembling mouth. Eased his thumb inside. The taste of herself on him made her insides pull tight. Her gaze rocketed to his. “There are so many places I want my mouth to be,” he murmured.
Oh. My. God.
“We’re taking this upstairs.”
He scooped her up and carried her inside, using his foot to shut the door. She was hopelessly glad for the efficient mode of transportation, because she was sorely worried her legs weren’t working at all. Through the dark, quiet house they went, up the stairs to Gabe’s airy, masculine master bedroom at the end of the hall.
It was dark in the suite, moonlight flooding in through the windows. Gabe set her down by the big, four-poster bed and flicked on a lamp. Her legs supported her, but just barely, weak at the knees as she drank in the raw, masculine power of him—broad shoulders, muscular tanned forearms where he’d rolled his sleeves up, trim waist and powerful thighs encased in dark trousers that hugged every delectable inch of him. Her gaze shifted up to his face. There was an indomitable strength about him that underlay it all that had nothing to do with finely honed muscle. It radiated from him, a force that drew her in. As if anyone and anything he touched was protected by association. Her lashes lowered. A woman could want that. A woman could find that intoxicating if she let herself believe she could have it.
He took her jaw in his fingers. “What?”
She shook her head, disabusing herself of that silly notion. One night, Alex. Savor it for what it is. Nothing is forever. Hadn’t she learned that from the past?
She set her fingers to the top button of his shirt. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Liar,” he said softly. “What were you thinking about?”
“That.” She slipped the first button from its hole and started on the second. Wondered why taking a man’s shirt off seemed like the most intimate activity of all. He let her take control. She finished the buttons, slipped the smooth material off his shoulders and pushed it to the floor. Her stomach tightened at the beauty of him. His torso was a work of art—bronzed by long hours in the sun, with a set of abs that made the drool pool in her mouth. She put her lips to all that smooth, delicious muscle, trailing her tongue across his nipples in a game of fair turnabout. His indrawn breath made her smile. “One of your erogenous zones?”
“I have many.”
She took hold of his belt and slipped the leather from its loop. Yanked on the buckle so it worked free. Her fingers brushed against the aroused length of him as she pulled down the zipper and everything inside her went tight. He felt big and hard and the magnitude of what she was about to do slammed into her with the force of hurricane winds.
Focus, she told herself. She slid the pants down his long legs and he obliged her by stepping out of them. The beauty of him wrapped itself around her, stealing her breath. His calves and thighs were lean, perfectly hewn muscle. Her gaze slid upward. And as for his...gear, enclosed in tight white boxers that showcased it to perfection, she’d been right. She most definitely wasn’t going to be disappointed.
He curved a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. Laid a kiss on her that turned every bone in her body to mush. Lord, this man could kiss.
“That’s your secret weapon, isn’t it?” she murmured when he dragged his mouth from hers and turned her around.
“What?” She heard the rasp of her zipper.
“The kisses.”
The dress hit the floor in a whisper of silk. “You like them?” he asked, pressing one against her shoulder blade.
She arched into his mouth. “I like them.”
He worked his way down her back, paying homage to every inch of her skin. Alex had never thought of her back as a particularly sensual thing, but the way he worshipped her, she couldn’t imagine anything hotter. He went for her shoes next. He was good with feet, she remembered, and he didn’t let her down, sliding her foot out of the first and pressing a kiss to the arch. Oh. She lifted her other foot to let him take that shoe off, too.
He stood. She pushed a hand against his chest and sent him back into the bed, his knees hitting the edge. She pushed again and he sat down. The expression on his face as he took her in, clad only in tiny panties, made her light-headed.
“You are every man’s fantasy, Alexandra Anderson.”
Her chest tightened with an emotion she didn’t want to identify. “Fantasies aren’t reality.”
He reached for her, lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him. “This one is,” he murmured softly, teasing the corner of her mouth with his lips. “No place to hide here, Lex. Only the truth.”
No need to tell him she never told anyone the complete truth. Not about herself. This was just sex. But then he brushed his mouth over hers in another of those soul-baring kisses and suddenly this didn’t seem like sex at all. It felt like the plundering of her psyche.
It would have been easy to reach for terror. She reached for him instead. Wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and met him kiss for kiss until they were both breathing hard and she could feel his thick, hard length pulsing insistently against her.
“Alex,” he forced out hoarsely. “Do I need a condom?”
“I’m on the pill,” she murmured. “Although we may need to take this slow. I’m a little out of practice.”
He flipped her on her back and stripped off his boxers. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his powerful, jutting masculinity. “Allow me,” he murmured, kissing his way down her body.
“It’s okay,” she protested
when it became clear exactly where he was going. “I can’t do that again. And—I can’t do it at all during...intercourse.”
He raised himself up on his elbows, level with her belly, an amused smile playing about his mouth. “Intercourse?”
Her cheeks burned. “What else would you call it?”
“Not that.” He gave her a considering look. “You mean you’ve never had an orgasm that way?”
“I can’t. Lots of women can’t,” she added defensively.
He pressed his lips to the curve of her belly. “Let’s mark it as TBD.”
She could have told him it wasn’t going to happen. But arguing about it would be even more embarrassing. So she let him shift her thighs apart with his big hands, part her wet, aroused flesh and set his mouth to her. Her body clenched hard at the first slide of his tongue against her. Gentle, thorough, it washed over her like a heat wave. Again and again he lapped her, licked her, brought her flesh flaming back to life. She buried her hands in the soft bedding beneath her and conceded with a groan that maybe, just maybe she was capable of more.
Then he stopped.
Shock must have been written across her face, because he laughed low in his throat as he pulled her on top of him. “You didn’t think this was just about you, did you, Lex?”
Well, no, she’d told— Oh. She closed her eyes as the aroused length of him brushed against her slickness. Her insides contracted with the heated desire to go in a different direction—to have his thick length inside of her. To experience what it was like to make love with Gabe.
“Open your eyes, angel.”
She did. His gaze was heavy lidded and shot through with want. He guided the wide tip of him against her, cradled her hips in his hands and brought her down slowly on the thick length of him. Her gasp split the air. “Lentamente,” he murmured. “Slowly.” She sank down on him inch by inch until she had finally taken him to the hilt, and almost groaned with the fullness of it.
“I see why you make the lists,” she murmured, breathing in deep.
He gave her a half tortured, half amused look. “This is not always on offer.”
“Lucky me, then.” She started to move in slow, deliberate circles, shallower, then deeper, then shallower again. When she was looser, more comfortable with him, she slipped off him, then took him deep again. Gabe groaned and muttered something in Italian. Closed his eyes. Let her ride him until his breath came faster. His control shorter.
Then his hands clamped around her waist and he put her on her back again and used his mouth on her, his tongue a maddening torture. Quick, insistent, then slower, feasting on her. Bringing her back to where he wanted her—incoherent and desperate for him, her breath ragged. When she sank her fingers into his hair and begged him to let her come, he flipped onto his back and pulled her on top of him again. “Like this.”
She could have screamed her frustration. But he felt so good stroking up inside of her, his hands guiding her hips, her body aroused to a fever pitch that she could do nothing but feel. Stroke by stroke he massaged her until every nerve ending in her body was centered on the connection they shared. “Lean forward,” he encouraged roughly. “Use the friction. Use the angle.”
She did. Slanted her lips over the sensuous fullness of his because she couldn’t resist anything about him and let the sensations hit her exactly where she needed them to.
Her orgasm rolled over her like a tidal wave, deeper, stronger, more shattering than anything she’d ever experienced. A guttural moan left Gabe’s throat as her body clenched around his and drew his own release.
It was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.
She rode him, drew out his orgasm until his big body was damp and spent beneath her. Without one more drop of energy left in her, she collapsed against his chest, smiling at the thunderous beat of his heart. And sighed.
“That sure as hell better not be disappointment,” he rasped.
“Oh, yes, very disappointing,” she murmured, dragging herself off his chest to look at him. “All two shattering orgasms’ worth.”
His low laughter filled the air. “Give me five minutes and I can supply more.”
It never happened. Not for a long time, anyway. She woke, groggy, wondering where she was and realized she had passed out on top of Gabe. He sank his teeth into her shoulder, rolled her to her side and took her in a slow, heated lovemaking that proved his exceptional stamina.
* * *
When she woke, light was streaming through the windows and six feet three inches of warm, hard male was plastered against the length of her body like a furnace. Apparently he was the touchy-feely type, something she had precious little experience with, since she never let a guy stay overnight. No muss. No fuss. They were just...gone.
It was a reminder how many rules she’d broken last night. She’d slept in a man’s bed. She’d slept with her client. And perhaps best of all, she’d slept with Gabe, the man she’d vowed never to cross the line with because he was dangerous to her. And guess what, Alex? You were right on the money with that one.
Images from the night before flashed through her head, too numerous, too blindingly hot to fully process. How Gabe had feasted on her, how they had feasted on each other in what would surely go down as the best night of sex of her life. She pressed her palm to her face and felt the heat. She was never, ever going to be able to look at him the same way again.
Had the sex been worth it? Worth the awkwardness of asking him to pass the salt at family meals and having that run through her head? Yes, she decided, breathing his masculine scent in. A woman should have that once in her life. It was only fair. However, in the cold light of day, the best course of action seemed to be getting out of this bed now and calling it a fait accompli.
She eased her body away from his. Jumped when his arm tightened around her waist in a lightning-fast reflex.
“Stay.” His husky, sleep-roughened voice sent butterflies swooping through her stomach. A woman could love to hear that first thing every morning.
“I’m thirsty.”
He loosened his arm. “Come back.”
She contemplated running. The fact that Gabe was a rich, powerful, sexy hunk of a man who was exactly the type she’d made a big, fat fool out of herself over before demanded it. And this one had the power to hurt her even more than Jordan had.
She stumbled into the washroom. Poured herself a glass of water and gathered her willpower. Then she wrapped a towel around herself and marched back out into the bedroom. “I really need to get going.”
Dreamy eyes of the lushest forest-green blinked back at her. “Where?”
“The caterers will be here soon.”
He glanced at the clock. “It’s eight a.m. on a Sunday, Lex. Are they coming this early?”
“I need to get a shower.”
His lips tilted. “Come here.”
She found for some bizarre reason she couldn’t resist. Perching herself on the side of the bed, she looked down at him. “So—” His arm snaked out, nabbed her around the waist and rolled her beneath him. She swallowed as he propped himself up on his elbows and kept her pinned there with the weight of his body. “Gabe,” she murmured, trying to ignore how all that testosterone made her insides melt. “I’m not very good at the next-morning-recap stuff.”
A sexy smile twisted his lips. “You are at the night-before stuff, so I’ll forgive you on that one.”
She grimaced. “Last night was fun. It was hot, actually. We satisfied our curiosity. Let’s end it cleanly.”
He let his body sink into hers, imprinting her with his potent masculinity. “Does this feel like we’re done?”
She pushed at his chest. “We should be done.”
He studied her face. “Why so uncomfortable?”
She pressed her lips together. “I realize this might be the first time a female has ever requested to leave your bed, but anomalies do happen. We said one night, Gabe. I need to go.”
He sat back so he was straddling her
with his thighs. “You can go if you answer a question.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “What?”
“Tell me why you get those nightmares.”
“No.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then you stay.”
“Goddammit, Gabe,” she glared up at him angrily, “Let me go.”
“After you tell me.”
“It’s nothing. It’s ancient history.”
“Then why do you still have nightmares about it? Why were you sleepwalking?”
She shook her head. “This was sex. One night. Your call. My call says it’s over.”
His jaw hardened, an emotion she couldn’t read flashing in his eyes. “The way you were, it’s been haunting me, Lex. I need to know what happened to you.”
The urge to run was stronger. “It’s not something I talk about,” she said flatly. “Forget about it.”
“I can’t forget about it,” he said grimly. “That’s the point.”
The self-destructive side of her that seemed to be alive and well urged her to just say it, say it. Tell him how messed up she was and surely he’d go running and they could just end this. “Let me up,” she muttered, pushing against his legs. This time he did, rolling off her and into a sitting position beside her. She reclaimed some personal distance and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“I’m sure Lilly has told you I was the black sheep of the family.”
His expression didn’t alter. “She mentioned it.”
“My parents’ farm, it’s never done well and most of our lives we lived in poverty. When I say poverty, I mean there were times when we had no money for new clothes and we’d have to go to the charity depot to get them. My parents’ marriage was a mess both because of who they were and because of the financial strain of the farm. My dad had an affair with the farmer’s wife down the road, my mother left us about three times...life was just a general disaster. Lilly dealt with it by starving herself and being Miss Perfect. I dealt with it by going over to the dark side. I drank, smoked, hung out with the bad crowd, anything to get the attention I was craving.”
“Lilly said your parents are extremely distant. I can see why.”
An Exquisite Challenge Page 11
