Unexpected Love (Timid Souls Book 3)

by Melanie Munton

  “You’re welcome,” I managed to get out.

  Then, he did something I would have never seen coming. He took another step forward, leaned into me, and bent his head toward mine, bringing his mouth closer and closer and stealing my breath all in one movement. And when his lips finally met mine, I thought I would collapse from the shock. Gabe is kissing me! My brain wanted to ask why now, all of a sudden, had he decided to initiate something.

  But when he abruptly pulled away with an apologetic expression, I told that part of my subconscious to shut the hell up because that kiss felt way too nice to stop it so soon.

  He didn’t look at me when he started shaking his head and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t like hearing that. He had finally made a move, had done exactly what I’d wanted him to do all these months, and I was not going to let either one of us regret it. Bea was right; life was too short to go through it being shy all the time. And I had precisely what I wanted standing right in front of me, kissing me, so there was no possible way I was going to ruin it by playing the demure, virtuous woman.

  Screw that.

  Before he could put more distance between us, I went up on my tiptoes and crashed my lips back to his, taking him by surprise. I brought my body as close to his as I could get it, using one hand to pull him into me by the back of the neck. His lips were firm yet soft and tasted like paradise.

  It only took him about two seconds before he was responding to my kiss…and roughly shoving me against the wall.

  ##

  Chapter Two

  Felicity

  God, yes.

  Gabe’s hands were on my hips, pushing me backwards until my back slammed against the wall in the hallway. My shallow breaths were being swallowed by his deep groans, and his strong hands were gripping my waist like he was afraid I would disappear if he let me go.

  “Felicity,” he whispered against my mouth, taking my lower lip between his teeth. His hands skimmed down my back, reaching my ass and giving it a good squeeze. “Fuck, I want you.”

  His mouth traveled down the skin on my neck and I threw my head back against the wall, lost in the ecstasy that was his mouth. His beard was scraping against my throat, but I was surprised to realize that I liked it, loved how rough he was being. That still didn’t compare to my surprise with this whole situation—Gabe kissing me, telling me he wanted me, thrusting his hips against mine like he was about to take something more from me than just a few hot kisses.

  I wasn’t going to stop him.

  My body acted on impulse and I wasn’t even totally aware of what my hand was doing when it grabbed his wrist and guided it underneath my dress. I leaned back to watch his face as I grasped his fingers and led them to my inner thighs, pulling them toward the delicate material of my lace thong. His eyes widened at my movements and then squeezed shut when the pads of his fingers touched my slick folds for the first time. His forehead creased as if he were in pain and he blew out a deep breath. As soon as his whole hand was inside my underwear, he didn’t need any further guidance. His fingers ran the length of my slit, rubbing back and forth, spreading my arousal.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re wet. You want this, huh?” he asked, his voice rough and almost taunting.

  Oh, he wants to play, does he?

  I continued to surprise myself with my boldness when I grabbed the bulge in his jeans and squeezed. He sucked in a harsh breath and momentarily forgot what he was doing between my legs. “I want this,” I told him, the rasp in my voice unintentional. I was just finding it extremely hard to speak through the lust fueling my actions. “You have no idea how bad, Gabe.” I stroked him through his jeans, cupping his balls and then rubbing his shaft through the course denim. “I’ve wanted this inside me for a long time.”

  He swore harshly and the next thing I knew, his fingers were being rammed up inside me, robbing me of breath. They were driving in and out of me, creating a friction that was bringing my body to a fever pitch.

  “Well, trust me. You’re going to get it,” he said. I started to swivel my hips, seeking out deeper spots that his fingers could reach, needing more. “Yeah, that’s it,” he whispered down at me. “Ride my hand. Fuck yourself on it.”

  Dear Lord. I could probably get off on his words alone. Not that his fingers weren’t doing the trick because they certainly were, but I was still going to get all of him. And the whimpers that I heard slip from my mouth caused me to realize that I couldn’t have all of him until we got some of these clothes out of the way.

  My fingers flew to his belt buckle, fumbling to release it so I could get to his zipper. When he realized what I was doing, he pulled his fingers out of me with a growl and pushed me back into the bathroom that was only a foot away. He moved so quickly, I’d barely processed what he was doing when he picked me up and forcefully placed me on the bathroom counter, shoving my dress up above my hips.

  His lips once again took mine as he ripped my lace thong down my legs, throwing it somewhere in the room without thought or care. I continued my task of getting his jeans open and pushing his briefs down below his hips, enough to release his hard manhood from its confines.

  And when I finally did, my mouth instantly went dry. He was perfect. The girth, the length, the hair…his entire form was made to make women swoon at his feet. I suddenly felt compelled to get a taste. I needed to experience what Gabe Wexler tasted like. I scooted to the edge of the counter and bent down, bringing my head closer to his…the one between his legs, I mean.

  This was when years of gymnastics came in handy—when I could practically bend myself in half in the throes of passion. My flexibility was much appreciated in the bedroom, I knew.

  I wrapped my lips around his tip, my tongue snaking out to lick the moisture that had gathered there. He groaned loudly and his hand flew up to the back of my head. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed. “Oh yes, that’s amazing.”

  I hummed in agreement, which I knew sent vibrations down his shaft. When I began to go lower, leaving a hot trail with my tongue and increasing the pace of my hand on his base, he yanked my head away. I looked up at him to see heat flare in his hazel eyes, a dangerous glint emanating from them that was almost predatory.

  “You’re going to swallow me down, baby,” he said as he ripped his shirt off over his head, “just not today.”

  I didn’t even have enough to time to truly appreciate his naked torso because as soon as he tossed his shirt aside, he was kneeling down before me, bringing his face right between my spread legs. With his eyes glued to mine, he brought his face closer to my sex and gave it one good, long lick that ended with him taking my clit between his lips.

  “Gabe.” I spread my legs wider, allowing him more access, and gripped his hair. “Yes. Please, lick me.”

  He smashed his face against me and drove his tongue inside, making my toes curl in the air. It didn’t take long for the first orgasm to hit me. I had never been with a man as aggressive as Gabe and I never realized what I had been missing all this time. I had been with tentative guys, ones who treated me like a porcelain doll, as if I would break if they were too rough with me.

  Gabe knew better.

  And it was inconceivably sexy.

  He quickly rose to his feet after I came down from my high and grabbed my hips, pulling me forward and once again controlling the situation as if he couldn’t care less what I thought about it. He spun me around when my feet touched the floor, my back facing his front, and pushed me forward until my body was bent over the counter. He shoved my dress up higher, giving him an unobstructed view of my bare ass, which he caressed gently, almost lovingly.

  “I’ve stared at this ass for the last seven months, imagining all the things I wanted to do to it,” he said. I watched him in the mirror and could see that he was staring down at it, watching his hand glide across my skin. “You’ve driven me crazy with it, shaking it in my face.” He met my eyes in the mirror. “You knew what you were doing, didn’t y
ou?”

  I bit my lip to keep myself from smirking at him, appreciating the fact that he had actually been noticing me all this time. Then without warning, his hand came down on my exposed skin with a crack, the sounds of which reverberated off the walls of the room.

  He spanked me.

  Actually spanked me.

  No man had ever done that to me before. My mind was blank for a minute, trying to decipher how I felt about that, whether or not I liked it. It didn’t take me long to come to a conclusion.

  I fucking loved it.

  I was just full of surprises today.

  “You liked that, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice full of desire though that didn’t deter from the question. He really wanted to know if I was okay with it, if I liked the feeling. As if he were asking permission to do it again.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  I felt his fingers at my entrance which had become even more soaked after his hand connected with my ass. He eased two of them inside and groaned loudly. “Fucking right you did.”

  I moaned and pressed back into his hand, pushing my hips back toward his body. “Yeah, you’re ready for it,” he said. “You know how much better my cock is going to feel, right?”

  “So give it to me then,” I told him.

  Without another word, he did.

  He slammed inside of me, driving deep and hard. I held onto the edge of the counter for balance and watched the spectacular sight of the man behind me. He paused when he was fully inside me, gathering himself and taking a few breaths before he started to thrust. His hands held onto my hips, pulling me back as he pushed forward.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of his rippling thigh muscles as they worked or his biceps as he maintained his firm hold on me. “Holy shit, you’re tight,” he said, which was followed by a grunt when I clenched my inner muscles around him. “Felicity…damn, baby. This hot little body of yours is so fucking sexy.”

  I closed my eyes, letting his praise wash over me and send me to another state of pleasure. “Harder,” I said.

  “You like it rough, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  He swore again and did as requested. He plunged inside with more force, slapping his skin against mine, almost to the point of pain. “I knew you were a dirty girl,” he rasped. “I knew there was something wild under that soft exterior.”

  I didn’t.

  He leaned forward and brought his mouth right next to my ear. I could hear every hitch of his breath as he got closer to his release. When he sunk his teeth into my shoulder, I wasn’t even phased. Hell, at this point, I expected it, almost asked for it. I was coming to discover that Gabe liked it a little rough, maybe a little pain mixed in with his pleasure. And until today, I hadn’t realized that I liked it, too. Nobody had ever taken me this way before, not even attempted it.

  It was making me feel things—want things—I never knew I was capable of.

  “I’m close. So close,” he panted and brought his fingers down to my clit, putting pressure on it in the exact way I needed to fly over that peak.

  A few seconds later, I was screaming out my release as Gabe buried his face in my neck, grunting and groaning through his. But instead of staying inside me, he abruptly pulled out and sprayed his seed on my lower back, the warmth of it indicating exactly how much of my skin he had marked with it.

  It was dirty and it was raw.

  And I had never been so hot for someone in my entire life.

  “Well,” I said as I tried to catch my breath, “this definitely changes things a little.”

  ##

  Two days later, I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing at work.

  Bea and I were supposed to be going over a new proposal from a prospective client—a new hotel chain that could bring in some serious business for us—and come up with a bid for them. It would be a huge step for our business and I just couldn’t focus on it.

  I blamed it entirely on Gabe Wexler.

  I couldn’t get him off my mind.

  We hadn’t spoken since the bathroom incident and I was trying not to worry. Like me, he could have just needed some time to wrap his head around what happened between us and what it meant for the future, if anything. I was doing my best to not freak out and allow particular scenarios like him dropping his account with us because of all this to poison my mind. I knew that he liked it. That had been obvious. But maybe he’d just needed a release, wanted nothing more than something physical from me.

  It wasn’t as if we had talked about it afterwards, so I wasn’t sure what he wanted or expected.

  I thought I would have been the nervous one after what we did in the bathroom. But in fact, he had been the awkward one. After he quickly cleaned me off, he’d righted his jeans and put his t-shirt back on. He even handed me my discarded thong, and he did all of this without meeting my eyes. The dirty-talking, ferocious, sex-craved man of a few moments before had evaporated right before my eyes. I could tell he had still been lingering on the surface, but something else had gotten in his way.

  I was still trying to figure out what that was.

  He clearly had reservations about a relationship with me—not sex, though—and it was holding him back, preventing him from talking to me. I decided I wasn’t going to push for answers, even though I desperately wanted them.

  “Okay, what’s goin’ on with you?” Bea suddenly asked, breaking me out of my complicated thoughts.

  I glanced up from my laptop to see her standing in front of my desk with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised in question. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

  She rolled her eyes and pointed her finger at me. “Don’t you be doin’ that,” she replied. “You know you can’t hide anything from me. Just like how I couldn’t hide all that stuff that was goin’ down with Zane from you.”

  That was true. When her boyfriend had taken off back to England months ago for his job, leaving Bea behind, she’d been a shell of her former self, working and exercising herself to exhaustion. Finally, when I’d gotten sick of her moping and had become concerned for her health, I cornered her and forced her to confess everything that had happened between them. She’d never been the eager-to-share-her-feelings type so it had been a struggle. Thank goodness he returned and she had gotten back to her normal, boisterous self.

  “Now normally, I would say that it’s your millionaire hottie Gabe that has you all worked up. But this is different. Did somethin’ happen with him?”

  I sighed and figured it was useless to keep it from her. “We sort of hooked up the other day,” I confessed.

  She was silent for a moment. “You mean…” she asked, trailing off while making some ridiculous gesture with her hands by slapping them together, a motion I assumed was supposed to represent sex.

  I said nothing and just raised both eyebrows at her. That was answer enough.

  Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she screeched like a banshee. “No freakin’ way! Felicity Paxton, you little sex fiend!”

  I winced at that word. It just sounded wrong somehow. “Pipe down, would ya?” I said, rubbing my temples to relieve some tension. “It’s nothin’ to get excited over, okay? We haven’t talked since then so I don’t even know if it meant anything.”

  She narrowed her eyes in speculation at that and I knew what it meant. When Bea got protective, she was a force to be reckoned with. “He blew you off?” she asked, an edge to her voice.

  “No, he didn’t blow me off. We just didn’t talk afterwards, which is fine with me.”

  “Right…” she said slowly, doubt evident in her tone. “I’ll get back to that part in a minute. Because hell…you finally screwed your crush, little F! How was he?”

  I couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto my face as I remembered how good he’d felt that afternoon, how fiercely he’d turned me on. I looked up at her and chuckled at the knowing grin she had on her face.

  “He bent me over the bathroom counter, Bea.”

  Sh
e groaned. “Oh my God, that’s hot.” She held up a finger and started to make her way out the door. “Wait one second! I’m goin’ to make a bag of popcorn. I feel like I’m goin’ to need it. Then, I want to hear everything!”

  By the time I’d finished the story, Bea was speechless and I couldn’t deny the fact that it made me proud. I had managed to surprise Beatrice Paxton with my sexual escapades.

  Whether that was good or bad, I didn’t care because I suddenly felt like a whole new woman.

  ##

  Chapter Three

  Gabe

  Harder.

  Please, lick me.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Felicity’s breathy pleas from the bathroom were driving me out of my damn mind. She had been so gone for me, for my touch. So desperate for me to make her feel good.

  And fuck, how I had loved driving into her.

  No matter how many balance sheets I analyzed or projected figures I ran, I could not stop picturing little Felicity Paxton bent over the bathroom counter in my new house, beautifully naked from the waist down, begging for me to give it to her harder.

  I had no idea what had come over me that day. For some reason, being in Penny’s new room that Felicity had designed, imagining her playing in it and being the happy, carefree child that she had every right to be, something in me had just snapped. I wanted a home for Penny, somewhere that she loved and never wanted to leave and Felicity had given me that.

  I remembered thinking that I was so grateful to her that I wanted to kiss her. And then I thought, well, why not? So I did.

  I kissed her and then I couldn’t stop.

  I hadn’t been lying to her. I had wanted my sexy interior designer from the moment I met her. From the very beginning, I sensed something in her. An intriguing mix of shyness and curiosity, a kind of latent sexual prowess that I couldn’t really explain. Either way, it had drawn me in like a moth to a flame and the other day, I’d finally reached the point where I couldn’t keep my hands off any longer. And thank Christ she’d been into it because I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself otherwise.