“Sorry for kidnapping him in the first place,” he said sheepishly.
“You’re soaked,” she said, nodding at his shirt. The white fabric was practically see-through and plastered to his chest. Her throat suddenly felt dry as the desert as her eyes traced the muscles underneath the white fabric. He obviously took care of himself, and while his shoulders and arms were large, they weren’t grossly humungous. In fact, he was all sinewy and lean, but underneath his inked skin, there was a power humming that was understated, but unmistakable.
“Temperance?”
His amused tone made her start, and she felt her cheeks burn. Hopefully he didn’t notice her ogling her, but she doubted he’d missed it. Great. “You should get dry, before you catch a cold.”
His sensuous mouth curved up into a smile and his sky-blue eyes sparkled. “You’re right.” Starting the engine, he put the Jeep into gear. “I know where we can go.”
Chapter Seven
Gabriel couldn’t stop smiling after he caught Temperance checking him out. Yes! His lion did a little victory dance, swishing its tail. Actually, it hadn’t stopped doing that, ever since that kiss. The moment their lips met it was like something in him just knew that this was it: his very last first kiss. There would be no other women for him but Temperance. Her taste, her smell, her feel was imprinted in his brain, and from now until he left this world, nothing would make him forget that moment.
His gamble had paid off. Okay, so it was pretty despicable of him to kidnap Fred. Looking up at the rearview mirror, he stole a quick glance at the gnome through the rearview mirror. He didn’t know if it was his imagination, his elevated mood, or that damned thing was magical, but Fred’s grin was almost triumphant. Oh yeah, buddy. He’d give Fred a little high five later. But for now, he hoped Temperance wouldn’t object to their destination.
As they pulled into the garage of the sleek, modern condo building, Temperance let out an audible gulp. “Uh, Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
“Where are we?”
He parked his car into an empty spot. “We’re actually … at my place.”
Hazel eyes went wide as saucers. “Your place?”
“I don’t have any spare clothes on me,” he said. “And you did say I should get dry before I caught a cold.” Okay, so shifters didn’t get sick, but he didn’t mention that fact to her. “Is it okay if I dry off and change?”
“I guess. But my car—”
“I’ll drive you back to the park. You and Fred.” He winked at the gnome in the back seat. “Besides, you could catch a cold too. I’ll give you one of my shirts, and we can toss your clothes in the dryer.” Before she could object, he exited the car and then walked around to help her out.
“Thanks,” she said, rubbing at her arms. “I guess I wouldn’t mind getting warmed up.”
Gabriel could tell, seeing as he could clearly see the outline of her nipples through her shirt. He groaned inwardly, remembering how her tits felt pressed up against him earlier. “Er, it’s this way,” he said, quickly turning around before she noticed the tenting in his pants.
Keep it together, Russel. His main goal for coming here wasn’t to get her into his bed, but rather, he just wanted to have her alone and in his den surrounded by his things. He wasn’t sure if it was because of their kiss or that he opened himself up to her, telling her things he had never told anyone, but there was a need inside him and his lion to keep her to themselves until that bond formed.
He led her to the elevator, all the way up to his top floor apartment. Since he owned the entire floor, the elevator opened up directly into his living room.
“Wow,” she said softly. “This place is huge.”
“Er, yeah I got a good price on it,” he said sheepishly. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his wealth, but to him, it wasn’t a big deal, really. But he’d grown up with anything and everything he could ask for, and sometimes he forgot that not everyone was as lucky as him. Thank you, Dad, he said silently. The small trust Howard had left him had paid for this place and also ensured Gen didn’t control all the purse strings.
Temperance already looked apprehensive as she began to soak in the surroundings, probably confused because the mortgage alone on a place like this would cost more than a month’s salary for most people. Panic surged in him as she shrank back, and his lion paced, agitated, urging him to do something.
Do what?
Distract her, it seemed to say.
“Gabriel, how can you afford—”
He did the first thing that came to his head—take his shirt off. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she swallowed audibly. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold.” Unable to help himself, he looked down to her chest where her nipples were still poking through the fabric.
“What? I—” Glancing down, her eyes widened as she crossed her arms over herself. “Gabriel, why didn’t you tell me?”
He grinned. “What do they say? Tit-for—”
“Where’s your dryer?” she grumbled as a furious blush crept into her cheeks.
“Hold on, let me get you a shirt first. Sit tight.” He bounded to his room, grabbed two dry shirts and towels, then dashed back to the living room. “Here you go. The spare bathroom is the last door there and the dryer is in there.”
She murmured a thanks as she slinked away. He breathed a sigh of relief. Close one. Temperance would have many questions, and he would do his best to be honest with her. But his family’s affairs were the least of his worries. There was another elephant in the room, after all, which was the fact that she was his mate.
It would be difficult to broach the subject with her. When was the right time to do it? His lion was desperate for her to know so they could finish the bonding process. He, on the other hand, knew it was much more complicated than that. Plus, again, there was his family. He couldn’t avoid Gen’s calls forever.
Growing up, he’d seen as much of his oldest sister as he did his mother, which was to say, hardly ever. After all, she was over ten years his senior and being groomed to take over the company when his mother, Geraldine eventually retired. The plane crash that took his parents’ life had been sudden and unexpected, and Gen moving into a leadership position pushed her even farther away from him. As CEO of Lyon Enterprises and Alpha of the Russel Pride, she controlled most of their family holding’s business assets. Cool, controlled, and driven, she and Gabriel had often butted heads on many issues, primarily, his role as the sole male of the pride. Gen wanted him to quit the rangers and “take his place” in the company and marry a lioness worthy of his position. But he refused the former, because honestly, dealing with asshole campers and dirt clods in his hair was preferable to sitting in an office from nine-to-five. As for the latter …
He knew Vicky’s sudden resurgence into his life couldn’t be a coincidence. Despite the fact that they’d broken up, Gen would always casually mention her and the Woolworth pride or even William, their Alpha and Vicky’s father, every chance she could get.
Gen was going to shit a brick when he told her there was no way he was going to marry Vicky or any lioness of her choosing, not when he had already met his mate. Maybe that’s why he was desperate to have this mate bond form—then Temperance would be irrevocably his, and he would belong to her.
“Gabriel?”
He whirled around at the sound of her voice. “Did you find everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She padded into the living room in his dress shirt that came down past her knees, rubbing her hair with a towel. Another possessive surge rose in him, and his lion meowed with pleasure seeing her in something they owned. She came closer, but then stopped and quickly turned away when her gaze dropped down to his bare chest.
“Uh …” Slipping on his shirt, he cocked his head toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Did you get a chance to have lunch yet?”
“Uh …” A growling sound came from her stomach. “Er, sorry. I kind of … didn’t have time to eat l
unch.”
She didn’t need to explain why she hadn’t eaten yet as he could have guessed it was because of his ransom note and threat. Guilt poured through him, and his inner lion swiped its claws at him for letting her starve. “I’ll take care of that,” he said leading her to the kitchen. “Are you famished? I have some chips or fruit you can munch on.”
“I’m fine, I can wait,” she said as he motioned for her to sit on one of the stools on the center island. “Are you going to order some food?”
He opened the fridge and took out some cheese and apples, as well as a carton of eggs. “No, I can whip you something.”
Her eyes went wide with surprise. “You cook?”
“Hey, I’m not that much of a bachelor,” he said jokingly. “I can cook.”
“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that … no one’s ever cooked for me before.”
“Really? But you’re a baker.” He pushed the fruit and cheese at her. “Not even when you were a kid? Like your mom or dad.”
A sad look flittered across her face. “Um, not exactly. Unless you count sandwiches and pouring cereal into a bowl.” She took the apple and bit into it.
He could tell she didn’t want to talk further about it, so he let it be. For now. “I’m not a Michelin-star chef or anything, but I’ve been told I make a mean scrambled eggs. Sit tight.”
Gathering the ingredients, he cracked some eggs into a bowl and added some milk and a pinch of salt, then whisked them all together. “Do you want some tea or coffee?” he asked as he turned the stove on to a low heat and added a pat of butter into a pan.
“That would be nice.” She put the apple down. “Where’s your coffee maker.”
“No, no.” He waved his hand. “Relax. I’ll get it.”
He managed to get the coffee started just as the pan was hot enough for the eggs. “I realize I still owe you,” he said.
A dark brow rose quizzically. “Owe me?”
“French food and a story,” he reminded her. “I said I would tell you why I hate frogs.” He poured the eggs into the pan and swirled the yellow creamy curds with a spatula.
She chuckled. “All right, tell me then.”
“Well,” he began, keeping his eyes on the eggs to make sure he didn’t overcook them. “While changing between our animal and human sides is an instinct for shifters, we still need to practice, and so most parents teach their kids how to do it. I was about four or five when I had my first shift. My dad took me out behind our property so I could practice in peace. Unfortunately, my sisters snuck up on us. One of them—I can’t remember, but it was probably Gwen—put some frogs in my clothes so that when I put them on, they stuck to me, and I couldn’t get them off.” As he usually did, he shivered visibly when he thought about that. “I don’t remember much of what happened after, only that I was screaming, and my dad came to help me.”
“You poor thing,” Temperance said. “No wonder you don’t like them.”
“I know it’s irrational, but I really do have all these physical reactions when I see them.”
She shook her head. “Not irrational at all. Sometimes, things in our past stick with us, whether we realize it or not. I’m sorry, that was mean of them.”
“Thank you.” Her concern touched him; the few people he hung out with these days who knew about his phobia still joked about it. “All right, I hope you’re hungry.”
“That’s a lot of eggs,” she commented. “You’re going to eat some of that, right?”
“Of course.”
After he finished plating the eggs, he garnished it with some chopped green onions and pepper. “Et voilà. Oeufs brouillés, mademoiselle.” He placed a plate in front of her. “Don’t ask me to speak any more French. I’m afraid I nearly failed it back in high school.”
“Thank you.” She leaned over and took in a whiff. “Oh my God, that smells amazing.”
“Why don’t you take them over to the couch and we can eat there? It’ll be much more comfortable than sitting on these stools.” He nodded toward the living area. “I’ll get our coffees.”
“Thanks,” she said, picking up both plates.
After pouring the coffee into two mugs, he joined her on the massive plush sectional couch. “Here you go,” he said, handing her one of the mugs, then picked up his plate from the coffee table.
“Bon appétit,” she said and then took a forkful of eggs into her mouth. “Oh. Mmmm.”
Gabriel swallowed hard as the satisfied sound she made went straight to his groin. Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, he placed the plate on his lap. As he ate his eggs, he couldn’t help but glance over at her, watching as she savored each bite of food he made. It was ironic, really, that he’d been eating her food all these months and enjoying it, and now here she was, consuming something he had made.
They ate in comfortable silence, and once she finished her plate, she put it aside. “Thank you, Gabriel, that was an amazing meal.”
His lion was extremely pleased that their mate was fed. “You’re welcome.” His mouth suddenly went dry as she stretched her legs out in front of her, his eyes tracing a path up her shapely calf, knees, and the creamy skin of her thighs not covered by fabric. God, I want to be a shirt so bad.
“I should check on my clothes in the dryer,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the couch. As she got up, however, she let out a sharp yell and fell back. “Oomph!”
Immediately, he sprang into action, catching her in his arms, and they both fell back against the cushion with her sprawling on top of him.
“Sorry, my foot fell asleep,” she said. “Um, Gabriel?”
Her sweet scent wrapped around him, and the way her soft body pressed against him sent him into a frenzy. When his erection brushed up against her, she gasped in shock.
“God, woman, I can only control myself so much,” he growled. “Let me kiss you again. Please.”
She took in a sharp inhale of breath. “Gabriel … I thought you’d never ask.”
Fuck. Yes.
He took her mouth hungrily as a possessive streak he’d never felt before swept through him. It was like he wanted to brand her with his lips so she would never forget him. The intensity of his kiss would probably have scared off a lesser woman, but not his mate. No, she responded with equal fervor, mouth devouring his, their tongues dancing and tasting each other.
Her hips ground against his, brushing against his cock with a delicious friction that made him push against her. He needed her so bad, and he could smell her arousal and wetness.
She let out a yelp when he sat up and lifted her so she could straddle his lap. He captured her mouth again, his fingers fumbling for the front of the shirt.
“Gabriel,” she squeaked, pushing his hand away. “No.”
That single word made him freeze. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “We don’t have to—”
“I can’t … take this off,” she said, her lower lip trembling. “Please, I’m not ready for you to see.”
Oh. He kicked himself mentally. Of course. Her scars. “It’s all right … shh …” He brushed the single tear that streaked down her cheek. “Don’t cry, baby.”
“I … it’s not that I don’t want to,” she said. “I haven’t told you … haven’t prepared you. You might change your mind.”
Nothing under that shirt was going to make him change his mind, but he respected her boundaries. Someday, she would trust him enough to bare everything. “It’s all right. We’ll take it slow.” Slow for him anyway. She wanted him, though, he could smell it. Feel it in his bones. “Do you want to stop?”
She hesitated. “No … but, can we keep the shirt on?”
“Whatever you want, baby.” His hands moved to her waist, then slipped under the shirt to move up higher, creeping up her rib cage until he reached her breasts. “Yes?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, nodding. “You can touch me there.”
His hands cupped her breasts, testing their weight
. She wore loose, long-sleeved shirts all the time, so he couldn’t really tell how large they were, but now, he could feel they were quite generous, a handful even for his palms. “God, your tits feel amazing.”
Her eyes blazed as his thumbs found her already-hard nipples. “Gabriel.”
“Does that feel good? You like it when I play with your nipples?”
“Yes.”
The smell of her arousal became stronger, and she rubbed her hips against him. She seemed to enjoy the dirty talk, which was fucking fantastic because he loved it as well.
Releasing one breast, he slipped his free hand between them, cupping her sex. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Is this because of me?”
“Y-yes,” she whimpered, rocking herself against him. “Oh. Oh!”
He flicked a finger at her clit, and she cried out. “Please!”
Not wasting another second, he lifted her off him and scrambled to the floor on his knees. Pushing her back, he spread her knees and moved between them.
“Gabriel.” Her pupils were blown up with desire. “You can’t—”
“I need to taste you, Temperance,” he said, hooking one leg over his shoulder. “Will you let me?”
Her plush lips parted, but she nodded.
“Thank fuck,” he said before diving in. His hands slipped under her curvy ass, hauling her up to his mouth. She let out a surprised yelp, then moaned when his tongue licked a stripe up her wet lips.
Mother of God, she was delicious. Even better than he’d dreamed. Sweet, with that tang of musk that was all her. He lapped up her cream while teasing her folds, making her pant and moan. Jesus, even her cries were music to his ears.
He slipped a finger inside her slickness, then another, his cock twitching as she clenched around the digits. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside her and feel that heat and wetness around him, but he had to control himself. He would earn all of her—her trust, more importantly—before he made love to her.
As he continued to lap and tease her with his tongue and fingers, her breath came in shorter pants, and her hips squirmed against him. Come, he urged silently as he licked and sucked on her little clit. He wanted to feel her pussy clamp around his fingers when she orgasmed.
Blackstone Ranger Charmer Page 8
