Ambushed!

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “You two don’t have to stay,” Gabe said. In fact, he hoped they wouldn’t. He’d already pictured how cozy that tavern could be with only him and Morgan inside.

  “But I’m your ride home.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Morgan said immediately.

  “I can drive Gabe back to the ranch later on. It’s not far.”

  “That would be great.” Gabe loved the way this was shaping up. The evening was open-ended, which left room for all sorts of interesting developments.

  5

  A VAGABOND LIFE did teach a girl to be spontaneous. Morgan might prefer a more planned existence than the one in which she’d grown up, but she could go with the flow when necessary. Or desirable, as was the case with this ghost caper.

  The minute Dominique had told Morgan about the possibility of ghosts in the bar, Morgan had wanted an excuse to check it out. Gabe and Nick had conveniently provided it, although both of them claimed not to believe in ghosts. Morgan was neither a believer nor a non-believer. She just thought people should be open to new experiences.

  And now, five hours after she’d first concocted this scheme, she and Gabe were sitting in near-darkness, one lone neon Budweiser sign for light. They had only a six-pack and each other for company. Well, unless the Ghost Drinkers in the Bar showed up.

  Josie, a tall blonde who wore her hair in a single braid down her back, had been good-natured about the whole thing. She’d given them a key to lock up when they were done and had shown them the mail slot where they could drop it back inside on the floor. She’d also promised them free drinks the following night if they saw or heard ghosts and were willing to testify to the fact.

  The room smelled of cigarette smoke and beer, not what Morgan usually associated with sexual fantasies. And yet…there was something illicit and subtly romantic about being alone in this bar after closing with a man as potent as Gabe Chance. Even without a ghostly presence, the room vibrated with energy just because Gabe was there.

  She had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Except for her exchange with Jack, today had been perfect, and now she had her high-school crush sitting next to her in the dark. Speaking of paranormal occurrences, she just might levitate.

  “I told you there were no ghosts.” Gabe opened a beer for each of them and set them on the table. “Josie created the rumor for publicity purposes. She’s hoping we’ll claim to see ghosts so we can get a couple of free drinks.”

  “I don’t think so.” Morgan sipped the tart beer and put the can back on the table. “She knows you, and she’s beginning to know me. She wouldn’t expect either of us to create a lie for the sake of free drinks.”

  “Then maybe she thinks we won’t be able to resist making up a good story just for the entertainment value.”

  “That makes no sense, either, Gabe. I’m trying to get a real estate business going and you’re a Chance, for God’s sake. Chance men don’t lie about things like ghosts for personal gain or to entertain their buddies. You have more honor than to do something like that.”

  Gabe’s soft laughter tickled her nerve endings. “You may have an exaggerated idea of how noble Chance men are.”

  “You’re not noble?” Her chair was right next to his, and they’d positioned themselves so they faced the small stage where the country band usually played. For some reason Morgan had thought the ghosts, if they arrived, might want to appear on stage.

  Gabe took off his Stetson and laid it on the table before sliding an arm around her shoulders. “Not all that noble. I had an ulterior motive for agreeing to this ghost hunt.”

  “And what would that be?” She resisted the impulse to snuggle against him and telegraph her eagerness. He might have been her fantasy man for years, but that was her secret.

  “Getting you alone in a dark room.”

  She glanced over at him and allowed herself to flirt a little. “What if I said that I thought the same thing?”

  His fingers traced a circular pattern on her upper arm. “Then I’d have to wonder why we’re sitting here waiting for ghosts when we could be doing something more…satisfying.”

  Her heart kicked into high gear. She loved knowing that he wanted her. “Couldn’t we multi-task? Keep an eye out for ghosts while we explore other options?”

  Pulling her closer, he cupped her cheek in his free hand. “Not if I’m doing it right.”

  Whew. That was the answer of a self-assured man. She could have predicted that he’d be confident, but experiencing that confidence first-hand thrilled her. All her interest in the paranormal vanished. If the ghosts showed up, they’d have to amuse themselves. Gabe Chance was about to kiss her, and that took precedence over everything else.

  His mouth hovered nearer. “This reminds me of sitting in the back row of the movie theater or in a parked car. Same awkward angle.”

  “Same agonizing anticipation.” She tried to be cool, tried to breathe normally, but it was a losing battle. Although she’d kissed Gabe several times today, they’d always had an audience, a built-in braking system. Now they had none.

  Gabe brushed his lips against hers. “We could improve on this position.”

  “You’re right.” Refusing to worry about whether he would think she was too aggressive, she left her chair and crawled into his lap.

  “Better?” Sitting astride him, she had no doubt what he was thinking about. The evidence formed a hot bulge that nestled conveniently between her thighs. Knowing that she’d caused that reaction sent her pulse racing and her spirits soaring.

  He groaned. “Depends on your definition of better. The angle’s nice, but the temptation is worse.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to nibble on his lower lip. His obvious desire gave her the courage to be the siren she’d always longed to be, especially with him. “Face it, Gabe. You didn’t come in here to resist temptation.”

  “No.” He gathered the hem of her T-shirt in both hands. “I want all the temptation I can get.”

  “Then I’m guessing you want my shirt off.”

  “Among other things.”

  Quivering with excitement, she leaned back and raised her arms over her head. “Then go for it, Mr. Chance.”

  He pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the table. “Damn, now I wish we had more light than a neon beer sign.”

  “I don’t. The windows face the street.” Arching her back, she reached for her bra hooks. She had big girls, and big girls needed at least four hooks. She couldn’t expect Gabe to navigate through all those.

  “True.” His voice sounded raspy, as if he might be having a little trouble with his breathing, too.

  “Besides, light would scare away the ghosts.” She took off her bra and threw it in the general direction of the table.

  He gulped. “At this moment, I don’t give a flying fig if Casper and all his friends show up. You are magnificent, woman.” Yet he didn’t grab, didn’t even reach for her at all, as if waiting to be invited.

  Cupping her breasts, she gazed into his shadowy face. “Your brother accused me of using these assets to further my goal of Chance family domination. He told me you had a certain weakness.”

  Gabe drew an unsteady breath. “He’s right. I’ve been dreaming about touching you ever since that snap popped open.”

  “Yet you’re holding back.”

  “I’m…I’m afraid once I touch you, there won’t be any stopping.”

  Disappointment shot through her. “And you didn’t come prepared.” She certainly hadn’t. Zipping home to pick up condoms had seemed like an assumption she shouldn’t make, almost as if she’d be tempting fate and pinning her hopes on something out of reach.

  “I didn’t come prepared.”

  “Oh.” Feeling like a fool, she let her arms drop to her sides.

  He cleared his throat. “But the men’s room here is always prepared. I, um, made a purchase the last time I went in there.”

  “Oh.”

 
“So if you—”

  “Gabe Chance, if you don’t touch me right now, I’m going to combust.”

  With a groan of pure delight, he cupped her breasts in both hands. “Damn, you feel good.”

  “So do you.” She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sweet sensation of his callused hands stroking, kneading, caressing, as if he knew exactly what she craved. Against all logic, she’d known it could be like this with Gabe.

  His breathing grew more labored as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. “Your skin is so soft. My hands are rough from—”

  “I like that.” Bracing her hands on his knees, she arched into his caress. “I like knowing you have hardworking hands.”

  “You’re giving them one hell of a vacation.”

  “Good.” Her booted feet located the rungs of the chair to give her stability. Having a dream come true made her bold. “Your mouth deserves one, too.” Moving her hands to his shoulders, she lifted herself from his lap so that she was in the perfect position for him to…oh, yeah. Gabe knew how to make use of that position.

  As he licked and sucked, murmuring words of praise for the bounty she was providing, her womb tightened. She’d known from that first watermelon kiss that she’d been right years ago. This was a man who had the power to drive her crazy.

  And she needed more than his mouth at her breasts. She needed release, and it wasn’t far away, if only she could get back to where… Slowly she lowered herself into his lap and gave him a tongue-worthy kiss to make up for taking away all that oral gratification. At least he still had his hands full.

  Gripping his knees again, she pushed her hips forward and wedged her sweet spot intimately against the erection straining the denim of his jeans. Then she let her head fall back and rocked forward against that tantalizing bulge. “Mmm.”

  He gasped. “Morgan…”

  “What, Gabe?” Heart racing, she wiggled a fraction closer. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Good God, no. But I—”

  “Just let me…” Right there. She didn’t even have to move much, if she could just press against him for a moment longer… Her pulse hammered as the quickening began. Almost there. She struggled for breath.

  “Pinch…my nipples.”

  He did, and she felt the first spasm. She whimpered and rocked against him. “Again.”

  He squeezed once, twice, and she gasped as the trembling began in earnest. “Oh, yes. Yes.” Gripping his knees, she pushed hard against that rigid denim as her body quaked in response to the glorious pressure. She clenched her jaw to keep from crying out.

  Her climax left her limp and panting. She slumped forward. “Thank…you.”

  “Oh, Morgan.” Cradling her face in both hands, he covered her with kisses. “You’re incredible, and I need you so much. I need you now.”

  “Yes… I know…” In her dazed state, she wasn’t sure how to make that happen. They had no bed, and the floor didn’t seem like a good idea.

  But apparently a serious case of lust inspired Gabe to improvise. He lifted her onto the round table and made short work of her boots, jeans and soaked panties. He didn’t bother taking off his own clothes. Through heavy-lidded eyes she watched him unbuckle his belt and jerk down his zipper. The condom took no time at all.

  His breathing ragged, he bracketed her hips and plunged deep. His groan of satisfaction came through clenched teeth, but it spoke volumes about his state of mind, or rather mindlessness.

  Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist so that she had leverage and could be more than a passenger on this cruise to paradise.

  “I’ll just hang out here for a minute.” He sounded winded, as if he’d run a footrace. “Get my bearings.”

  Wrapping one hand around his neck, she traced the line of his mouth with her finger. He captured that finger between his teeth, pulled it into his mouth and began to suck.

  “Wow. That’s…that’s nice.” She wasn’t sure why, but having him suck rhythmically on her finger while his cock was up to the hilt inside her had almost the same effect as if he were stroking back and forth.

  Slowly he released her finger. “God, you’re responsive.”

  “Not always, but tonight…tonight I can’t seem to help myself.” Because I’m with you. “I want it all.” She used her free hand to unsnap his shirt. It fell open and she stroked his heaving, sweat-slicked chest. Even the smattering of hair covering his pecs was damp.

  He groaned again, and deep inside her vagina his penis twitched. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”

  Her voice lowered to a soft purr. “Then let go.” She began drawing lazy circles around his tight nipples.

  “Not yet.” Finding her mouth with his, he took her by the shoulders and eased her back on to the table. Then he kissed her deeply as he ran both hands down her arms. In a maneuver straight out of a pirate movie, he laced his fingers through hers and raised her arms over her head, anchoring them to the table.

  He was ravishing her. And she loved it.

  He lifted his mouth, hovering near, his rapid breathing feathering her wet lips. “I think this is what they call fantasy sex,” he murmured.

  “X-rated entertainment for the ghosts.”

  “There are no ghosts.” He nuzzled the curve of her neck and placed kisses along her collarbone. “Just one hot woman and one desperate man.”

  “Desperate?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m right on the edge, but I want to make you come first.”

  “You did.”

  “No, you did. This one’s on me. Let’s see if I’ve learned anything.” Closing his mouth around her nipple, he moved his hips a fraction closer, tightening the connection between them. Then he rolled her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he pushed forward with his hips. The motion was subtle.

  But it was enough. He’d found the exact spot and was applying pressure. And all the while he rolled her nipple against the roof of his mouth with a little more force, and a little more, and yet a little more…

  “Oh, Gabe! Kiss me. Kiss me now before I…I’m going to scream!”

  He muffled the sound of her cries as her orgasm ripped through her like a flash flood, lifting her hips from the table and sending waves of pleasure shivering through her body.

  She was still arched like a bow and trembling when he began to pound into her, his strokes swift and sure, his rhythm picking up speed until he tore his mouth from hers and began to pant. His grip on her hands tightened and he gazed down at her, although his face was in shadow.

  She could barely see his eyes, could only faintly make out that a lock of his sandy hair had fallen over his damp forehead. And she, too, wished they had more light.

  “So…good…so…” His mouth came down on hers as he drove home once more and his body shuddered.

  She absorbed the staccato pulse of his climax with a joyous sense of accomplishment. She’d given him pleasure. No matter what else happened between them—even if nothing did—she would know that in this moment he wouldn’t have traded places with anyone in the world. And neither would she.

  GABE HAD SUSPECTED from the moment he’d first spied Morgan on Geronimo that she was no ordinary woman. With that cockeyed name and her considerable endowments, she already stood out from the crowd.

  But now he had a better idea of what made her so special. She gave a hundred percent in anything she did, and that included—boy, did it ever—having sex. Her Italian mama would be proud.

  Releasing his grip on her hands, he cupped her face and gave her a long, gentle kiss. She responded as he would have expected, kissing him back as if she felt the same sense of gratitude he did.

  Slowly he ended the kiss and braced his hands on either side of her head. “That…that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “I’d have to say the same.”

  “I guess now we have to decide what we want to do about it.”

  “Have more?”

  He laughed. “Well, yeah, obviously. But we ha
ve to decide the when and where part. Are you tired?”

  “If you’re asking whether I’d choose sleep over sex with you, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

  “Ah, Morgan, you flatter me.”

  “Ah, Gabe, you turn me on. But we probably shouldn’t stay here.”

  “No.”

  “I’m thinking my place.”

  He smiled down at her. “You got any ghosts?”

  “Not that I know of, but I do have a box of condoms.”

  “I’ll take condoms over ghosts anyday.” With some regret, but with the promise of more happy times very soon, he eased away from her. “I’ll make a quick trip to the men’s room and be right back.”

  “I’ll put myself back together while you’re gone.”

  “If any ghosts show up, offer them a beer. I don’t think we’ll need that six-pack, after all.” He thought about that as he went to the back to take care of business.

  He’d assumed they’d drink at least some of the six-pack as a way to loosen up and get into a fooling-around mood. They’d each had about two sips of the stuff before they were into full make-out mode. He hadn’t felt that kind of strong attraction to a woman in a long time.

  And the attraction had been followed by world-class sex. Because he wanted to focus on his competition for now—once he sorted things out with Jack—he wasn’t interested in tying himself down, but if he were, Morgan would be perfect. Then he had an unsettling thought. She could be thinking the same thing, that they were perfect for each other. And she might not have an aversion to making it permanent.

  That meant at some point they’d have to discuss the subject. He’d be completely honest with her and hope she’d offer him the same courtesy. In some ways he wished he’d met her two or three years from now, when he’d reached his goals for himself and Top Drawer.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to regret what had happened tonight. A guy could go his whole life and not experience that kind of great sex. He was one lucky cowboy.