Chapter Five
“I have to admit I’m very impressed that you made dinner tonight.” Chloe waved her fork over the entrées on her plate and glanced at Gabe, the two candles he’d put on the table making the ends of her hair glitter like gold dust and her eyes glow a striking shade of green. “Filet mignon made just the way I like it, roasted potatoes with hollandaise sauce, and a spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. Absolutely amazing.”
He shrugged off her compliment as he chewed a bite of tender filet, though he was secretly pleased that she was enjoying what he’d selected for tonight’s menu and appreciated the work he’d put into making everything just perfect for her.
She’d arrived earlier, all smiles and a sassy, teasing attitude, but there was no mistaking the subtle reserve beneath her breezy disposition, a barrier that had been erected since last night. Physically she’d been accessible and responsive to the kisses and caresses he’d stolen before serving dinner, but she’d managed to keep those vulnerable emotions of hers confined. Protecting herself, he guessed. From him, and what he had planned for her tonight, their last night together.
He didn’t mind the steady stream of conversation because he loved talking with her about anything and everything, but no way was he taking this high-strung, anxious woman into the bedroom. Which meant he needed to figure out a way to make her relax and let down her guard a bit so she’d be more receptive to what was going to happen between them when they made love this time.
For starters, he lifted the bottle of wine he’d left on the table and refilled her glass. “I really like to cook,” he told her, and topped off his own wine as well. “So tonight’s dinner was a pleasure to make.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “Really?”
“Yep.” He smiled at her. “I think too many years of macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, and Hamburger Helper made me appreciate a good meal, though I can’t say I eat like this all the time. When you’re cooking for one, it’s much easier to toss a frozen dinner into the microwave.”
She laughed and nodded in agreement. “Oh, I hear you. And how did you know that I liked spinach salad? That was a risk to make, don’t you think?”
“Not at all.” He speared a potato with his fork. “Do you remember what you were eating the day I saw you at that restaurant eating lunch with a friend?”
She thought for a moment, then her eyes grew big and round in shocked disbelief. “OhmiGod, it was a spinach salad! That was over seven months ago. How in the world did you remember that?”
“When it comes to you, there’s not a whole lot I don’t remember.” He let her think about that meaningful comment as he lifted his hand and wiped away a smudge of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Hollandaise sauce,” he murmured, completely turned on by the way her eyes darkened at his touch.
“Thanks.” She glanced away and swiped at her mouth with her napkin, then focused her attention back on her dinner. “So, how is the packing coming along?”
Gabe recognized a switch in topic when he heard one. He also suspected her question was a calculated reminder of his brief stay in San Diego. “I’m almost done. Most of the boxes are sealed and ready to be shipped back to my place in Chicago.”
She chewed and swallowed a bite of meat. “Was it hard to pick and choose things to keep from your childhood?”
“Yeah.” An indulgent grin curved his lips. “My mom saved everything, and I’m a sentimental old fool. I found a whole lot of stuff I’d forgotten about and couldn’t bring myself to part with.”
She tipped her head curiously. “Like what?”
“Like a very old snapshot of my dad that I kept hidden away. It’s the only picture I have of him. I’d forgotten about the photograph, and my first instinct was to toss it, but I decided to keep it instead.”
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because for the first time ever, I could look at his face and not experience all the hurt and resentment I’d harbored for him walking out on me and my mother.” He shook his head, amazed at the revelations that had come to him over the years and had solidified this past week. “I finally realized that for a man who’d never been a part of my life, he was actually the catalyst for everything I did and tried to accomplish.”
Chloe pressed her hand to his arm in understanding. “You have nothing to prove to a father who was never there for you, Gabe.”
He set his fork on his plate, and lifted his wineglass for a drink. “It’s taken me a whole lot of years to figure that out for myself,” he admitted. He’d spent most of his childhood and part of his adult life trying to make something of himself, to prove to his deadbeat dad, Darren MacKenzie, that he’d managed to do well without him as an influence. That despite leaving him and his mother nearly destitute, they’d managed without his support.
The accident with his knee had thrown his goals off course, and it had taken him too long to realize that all he had to do was accept himself and the choices he made in order to be happy. And he was happy…except for the one thing missing in his life. The love of a good woman. The right woman. Chloe.
“What else did you find and keep?” she asked, bringing him out of his musings and keeping their conversation on track.
“A lock box I’d made in wood shop my junior year, a few baseball cards I’d held on to, my first Playboy magazine, which your brother, Derek, gave to me on my seventeenth birthday.”
She laughed at that, the light, amusing sound fitting so perfectly into his life.
“And of course I kept my high school football jersey, along with my very first football that my mother saved up to buy me for Christmas.”
A smile quirked her mouth. “You can take the man out of football, but you can’t take the urge to play football out of the man, huh?” she teased.
“Football was my first love,” he admitted, but knew his life had turned out better than he’d ever imagined, despite that huge loss. “Actually, I kept that memorabilia because I’d like to think that maybe someday I’ll have a son of my own who likes to play football.”
“Would you want him to?”
“As much as I enjoyed playing the game, it would be his choice,” he answered honestly. “I’d want him to do it for nobody but himself.”
Finished with her meal, she pushed her plate aside and studied his face for long moments. “You miss playing football, don’t you?”
Leaning back in his chair, Gabe clasped his hands over his stomach, prepared to share insecurities and weaknesses with Chloe that no other woman had ever glimpsed. It was time if he expected the same openness from her in return.
“I did miss football, at first. It was all I knew and so much a part of me and my life for so long. It was also my way of escaping poverty and showing my old man that his son had grown up to be someone successful and important.”
She sat quietly, listening and not judging his reasons and youthful logic.
“It was a difficult adjustment for the first two years after my knee forced me to give up a shot at pro football,” he continued, “mainly because I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life, or how I was going to make a decent living.”
She braced her elbows on the table, clasped her hands, and rested her chin on top. “You managed just fine, and landed right back on your feet as a sports agent.”
“Which took even more hard work and a whole lot of perseverance. And having contacts in the sports industry helped,” he added, then finished off his wine. “Looking back on the past six years, though, I have to say that everything turned out for the better. I have a steady, if not hectic job that I enjoy, and I’m still a part of the game, but in a more behind-the-scenes kind of way. Now I see so many of my clients worrying about what they’re going to do when their professional sports careers are over, and I’m so relieved and grateful that I’ve already been through that angst and I’m content and happy with what I’m doing.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, her tone soft and sincere. Absently, she ra
n the tip of her finger around the rim of her wineglass. “So, what’s left to accomplish in the life of Gabe MacKenzie?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “What every man wants.”
“A carefree, bachelor life filled with wild women and lots of hot sex?” she asked flippantly before he could explain what he meant.
Inwardly, he flinched, but he suspected her playboy image of him helped her maintain an emotional distance. For the moment, he’d cater to her notions, because there was no point in forcing her to face his feelings for her when she wasn’t ready to accept the truth. He had the rest of the evening to convince her otherwise.
No doubt she expected tonight to be all about hot, wild sex and believed she knew exactly what he wanted from her. But she didn’t have a clue. What he desired went far beyond sating immediate carnal longings. He craved the love of a good woman. A lifetime commitment to a soul mate. A family to come home to. And he ached to share that with her, a woman who’d once been one of his best friends and was now his lover in every sense of the word.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t ready to face what was between them, not when her defenses were a mile high. It was obvious to him that while she might trust him with her body, she didn’t trust him with her heart. Not that he could blame her for being wary, considering his past track record with her. Which meant he still had his work cut out for him before he moved things to the bedroom.
Abruptly she stood and reached for his plate and utensils and stacked them on top of hers. Before he could say anything more, she’d disappeared into the kitchen, leaving behind a silence he felt all the way to his bones. Thrusting his fingers through his hair, he blew out a harsh breath, shook off his frustration, and joined her with a handful of dirty dishes he’d cleared off the table, too.
He came up beside her and set the serving bowl and their empty wineglasses in the sink, and she cast a quick glance and smile at him before redirecting her gaze to scrubbing a platter. “How about you clear the table, and I’ll rinse everything and load the dishwasher?” she suggested.
Sensing her need to regroup, he didn’t argue. “All right.”
It remained quiet between them as he made a few more trips back out to the table, and by the last round into the kitchen he had to curb the impulse to take her right where she stood, up against the counter, and show her how much he wanted her, adored her, loved her…and wanted that intimacy with only her. No one else. But considering her own state of mind, using barbaric, caveman tactics to sway her would only make her retreat further, and that was something he refused to allow tonight.
Once they were done and the kitchen was spotless, Gabe grabbed a big bag of M&M’s, and tucked her hand in his. “Come on,” he coaxed, leading her back out to the living room. “Let’s move on to the second phase of my fantasy.” He sat down on the couch next to her and used the remote to turn on the TV and VCR. The cassette tape he’d slipped into the unit earlier whirled to life.
Her brows puckered with a confused frown. “Your fantasy is to watch a movie with me?”
“It’s just part of my fantasy,” he clarified, making sure she realized there was more to come.
She glanced back at the TV, then at him, her expression tentative. “Umm, what kind of movie are we going to watch?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking,” he said, and chuckled. “I don’t need porn to get hot and bothered and worked up for sex. You do that to me easily enough. I picked out a romantic comedy I thought we’d enjoy watching together.” He showed her the VCR box so she could see the title of the movie.
“Wow. You’re throwing me all kinds of curves tonight,” she murmured, smiling. Relaxing. Just as he’d intended. “Not many guys I know would willingly sit through a chick flick.”
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate a blood and guts kind of movie. Kinda kills the mood, you know?” Leaning against the far end of the couch, he pulled her into the crook of his arm and settled the bag of candy-coated chocolates on his lap. “But don’t think that you’re getting off easy,” he said, grinning wickedly into her upturned face, “because I want you to hand-feed me the M&M’s.”
She laughed, breaking up any last traces of tension between them from dinner. “I think I can handle that.”
For the next hour and a half Gabe cuddled Chloe in his arms while she kept him supplied with chocolate, which he shared with her as well. They laughed at all the humorous antics and scenes keeping the protagonists apart, and she sighed wistfully when the guy finally got the girl in the end.
By the time the credits rolled, she was snuggled close to his side and completely relaxed, making it easy for him to shift their positions so that she was beneath him. His body was half on top of hers and he stared into her soft, slumberous eyes.
She rested a hand on his shoulder and trailed her fingers down to his chest. “Did you enjoy that part of your fantasy?”
“Yeah, I did.” He lowered his head and tenderly kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck, loving the scent and taste of her. “There’s something incredibly satisfying about spending a quiet evening with a beautiful, sexy woman and having her all to myself.”
She moaned as his tongue touched the sensitive spot just below her ear. “And now that the movie’s over?” she asked breathlessly.
He met her gaze again, seeing the want and need reflected in the depth of her eyes. The same kind of hunger that flowed hot and molten through his veins. “I want to make love to you.”
Her palm slid lower, to the waistband of his jeans, and she fumbled with the top button, her intentions unmistakable. “Out here, on the couch?”
He shook his head and gently stopped her advance, though he was rock-hard from the thought of her taking him in her hand. “I don’t want something fast, hard, and quick.” Tonight was about more than satiating mutual lust. It was about intimacy, emotion, and devotion, and by the time he was done with her she’d know how it felt to experience all three. “I want you on a nice soft bed so you’ll be comfortable and I can take my time and do as I please to every single inch of you.”
Moving off her, he stood and held out his hand, helping her up, too. Then he led her down the short hallway to his boyhood room. He turned on the dresser lamp to illuminate the room, refusing to make love to her in the dark. Tonight, there would be no hiding for either of them.
He brushed back silky strands of hair from her cheek. “You’ve been in this bedroom before,” he told her.
Her perplexed gaze took in his stark furnishings—the same double bed and secondhand dresser he’d grown up with. Then she shook her head. “I’ve never been in your bedroom before.”
“Yeah, you have,” he refuted, and allowed a slow, sinful grin to lift his lips. “You’ve even been in my bed. Naked.”
She opened her mouth to deny that claim as well, and he pressed his fingers to her lips to quiet her. “As a teenager, I spent so many restless nights in that bed, thinking of you, kissing your lips, taking your breasts into my mouth and imagining what it would feel like being buried deep inside you. You were the cause of every wet dream I ever had.”
Her breath caught at his explicit words, her expression equally stunned that he’d coveted her for so long.
“I’ve wanted you for what seems like forever, Chloe,” he murmured huskily. “Years and years that seemed so empty without you in them. So tonight, you’re fulfilling a huge fantasy of mine and finally making it a reality.”
She swallowed, and an uncertain smile appeared. “I hope reality lives up to the fantasy,” she said, her tone more serious than teasing.
He framed her face in his big hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Sweetheart, it already has,” he reassured her, and pressed his mouth to her lips, which automatically parted for the hot sweep of his tongue.
Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her long and slow and deep. Endless, rapacious kisses that chased any lingering doubts from her mind. Their mouths parted ways only to help each other strip off their clothes, but always return
ed to continue where they left off. Once they were both completely naked, Chloe’s hand curled around his rampant erection, caressed him from base to tip, and he groaned low and rough into her mouth.
She broke their kiss and stared into his eyes. “I want to taste you,” she whispered.
He wasn’t about to refuse her request, not when it was something he wanted just as badly. “I’m all yours, honey.”
She pressed her damp, open mouth to his collarbone, his chest, and licked and nipped at his nipples while her palm cradled his penis and her fingers squeezed and stroked the length of him. She worked her way lower, scattering hot, wet kisses on his belly and followed the line of his hip with her tongue, all the way down to his groin. She settled on her knees in front of him, and he glanced down at her, taking in the silky hair that tumbled around her shoulders, the thrust of her breasts, and the dark raspberry hue of her aureoles as they brushed his thighs.
She teased him with a soft, swirling lap of her tongue over the swollen head of his cock, and he visibly shuddered, completely at her mercy. “Chloe,” he groaned, the word a plea.
She tipped her head back to look at his face. This time when she smiled, it was pure seduction. “Is this part of that fifteen-year-old fantasy, too?”
He pushed his fingers through her hair and tangled the soft strands around his fist. “Oh, yeah. You’re welcome to make it come true.”
She opened her mouth and took him inside, as much of him as she could, and the reality of having her pleasuring him this way was so much better than he’d ever imagined. Her lips enveloped his shaft, suckling him, and her tongue pressed against the pulse throbbing along his hard length as she took him deeper still.
Incoherent sounds of need rose into his throat, and he shook with the force of the desire she’d incited. His stomach muscles clenched and his sacs tightened, warning him that it was only a matter of a few more strokes and he’d come hard and fast. And that’s not what he wanted just yet.
I Love Bad Boys Page 16
