adrian-run-to-you-v1

by Lara Adrian

  “Good,” Jenkins replies. “Then you’ll be easier to beat.”

  She grins, and I immediately relax, realizing she was only giving me a hard time.

  Before I know it, we’ve split up into two teams of five, all of us strapped into the specialized wheelchairs. After explaining the difference in game rules for this adaptive sport versus the one I used to play growing up, Gabe gives me a quick lesson in how to maneuver the chair, demonstrating the pivot action of the wheels and the anti-tip qualities of the frame and casters.

  “I’ll be lucky if I manage to move and dribble the ball at the same time,” I tell him. “If I don’t crash in the process, it’ll be a miracle.”

  “I’ll be right beside you,” he says. “I’ll catch you if you fall, I promise. But you won’t need me to, because you can do anything you set your mind to, Evelyn.”

  He really means that; I can see it in his eyes. He can’t know how much that simple statement means to me, how much it bolsters me to know I have him in my corner. Tonight, on the basketball court, we’ll be on the same team. But for me it’s much more than that.

  In the short time we’ve come to know each other, I trust him as a friend, a confidant.

  As a lover.

  I trust him as the partner I never dreamed I’d find.

  “Ready to roll, beautiful?” he asks me.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I think I’m ready for anything with you, Gabe.”

  He stares at me for so long, I almost can’t take the intensity of his gaze. Then he catches my face in both his hands and draws me toward him, slanting his mouth over mine in a brief, but achingly deep, kiss that arcs through every cell in my body like an electrical current.

  “Let’s go get ‘em,” he says, and together we move into the center of the court.

  24

  ~ Gabriel ~

  We lost to a lucky free throw by Webber in the final seconds of the game.

  Not that I actually care about the score or who won. The best part of the game was watching Evelyn play it. Seeing her not only step up to a challenge, but fearlessly conquer it. Hearing her laughing with my friends. Working together with her as part of a team, as partners.

  That’s something I haven’t had in a very long time. And never like this.

  It’s not anything I’ve been looking for, but I know at least enough to recognize something special when it’s right in front of me. And Evelyn Beckham is special. She’s all that and more, and I can’t pretend there is anything casual about the way I feel about her.

  What I feel is powerful. It is complicated.

  And it is real.

  As real as it can be, so long as her well-being remains a part of my job description.

  Bringing her into my world this weekend had been an idea borne of practicality--and genuine concern. Beck and Nick want security on her 24/7 now that it’s clear that someone has not only tampered with her vehicle, but with the boutique as well.

  I couldn’t agree more. Evelyn’s round-the-clock protection is a plan I fully support and intend to carry out personally. I can’t think of anywhere she’ll be safer this weekend than in Inwood with me.

  It’s the rest of the days ahead that bother me the most. Because while I’m confident that I can shield her from harm while we’re together, this arrangement will eventually have to come to an end. I don’t know how long I can continue to uphold my duty to her brother and Nick when it means denying Evelyn the truth. Not just about the potential threat to her safety, but about my current, covert role in her life.

  And until that potential threat to her is resolved and eliminated, I’m not about to surrender my job to anyone else.

  Even at the risk of her hating me for it one day.

  Those thoughts weigh heavily on me as Evelyn eagerly agrees to dinner with my friends following the game. We’ve all hit the locker rooms for showers and a change of clothes, then the ten of us head out for one of the pubs on Broadway in Harlem, not far from the veterans center gymnasium.

  Her easy camaraderie with everyone, especially the three women of the group, carries on over a round of burgers and beers. While Evelyn answers questions from O’Connor, Jenkins, and Murphy about the fashion world and her work at L’Opale, I notice Webber and the other guys can hardly take their eyes off her.

  Then again, neither can I.

  Seated beside me at the long table, she rests her hand on my left thigh. Her warmth permeates the silicone and cushioned sleeve that covers my leg, that soft touch both a comfort and a temptation that has rendered me hard as stone. Each time she turns her head to glance at me, it’s all I can do not to pounce on her gorgeous mouth and kiss her senseless.

  I hadn’t intended to share her with my friends for this long, but I can hardly regret the time when she’s clearly enjoying herself. That doesn’t keep me from signaling for the check as soon as we’ve all finished eating. I pass my card to the server and, over the protests of everyone at the table, tell the woman to charge the whole tab to me.

  I’m not doing it to show off or to wave my fancy job in everyone’s face. But my motives are far from altruistic, either. I’m impatient to have Evelyn all to myself, and I’d rather not wait on my buddies to dissect the bill and pony up for their portions.

  As the rest of the table grumbles and groans about the check, Evelyn bumps her shoulder against my arm, her pale green eyes glimmering in the low light of the bar. “So, is this our first official date?”

  I stare at her. Since the rest of our time alone together has mainly consisted of long, sleepless hours spent naked in her bed, or hot, breathless minutes with her pinned beneath me on other flat surfaces, I realize that, shit, she’s right. This is the first time I’ve taken her out somewhere. Not that I could risk doing this on the Upper East Side or anywhere that we might run into her brother or someone else from Baine International.

  I frown, wishing I’d done better for her tonight. “I’m sure this isn’t the kind of date you’re used to. I’m sorry about that.”

  Her fine dark brows arch. “What kind of dates do you think I’m used to?”

  I try to picture her with other men--men with intact bodies and bank accounts that could afford multimillion-dollar apartments and the elegant designer clothes that line her massive closet. I don’t want to see her with any other man, real or imagined, past or present. And trying to picture her with someone else only makes me feel even less deserving of her.

  She’s out of my league by a long mile, something I’ve known from day one. But it’s easy to forget that when she’s looking at me like I’m the only man in the room.

  Glancing away from her studying gaze, I pick up my mug and drain the flat mouthful of beer that’s gone warm at the bottom of it.

  “I wish I’d taken you somewhere special tonight instead, that’s all.”

  She makes a small noise in the back of her throat, barely audible over the combined din of bar clamor, music, and conversations taking place all around us. But I can hear the note of doubt in that faint exhalation.

  “Am I the only woman you’ve felt you had to apologize to after bringing her to one of your basketball games?”

  “Yeah. You are.” She gives me a wounded look that cuts through me. I reach out and smooth the pad of my thumb over the soft velvet of her cheek. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought to a game. I told you before, I don’t do this . . . relationships. I don’t do dates, either. Not very well, obviously.”

  She smiles, turning her face into my open palm to press a brief kiss there. “I’ve got news for you, Gabriel Noble. As far as dates go, this one has been pretty perfect so far.”

  “Yeah?” My voice rasps, arousal competing with the jolt of relief her reply has just given me. She nods, her long-lashed gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth. She licks her lips and my heart rate speeds, desire coiling into a fist inside me. I lean in close and whisper beside her ear. “Sweetheart, this date is just getting started.”

  With the check taken care of an
d a crowd of people waiting for us to leave our table, we all head out of the pub to say our goodbyes on the wide sidewalk outside. As I exchange handshakes and chuckle over smack talk with the guys, Evelyn is drawn into warm embraces by the women. As we all part company, I overhear the women making plans to meet up for lunch and a visit to L’Opale in a couple weeks.

  I take Evelyn’s hand as we make the short walk around the block to where my car is parked. As soon as we’re locked in the vehicle and I start the engine, I can’t contain my need to touch her, to feel her lips on mine. I pivot toward her and draw her into a long, slow kiss.

  “I’ve been dying to do that all night.”

  Just one kiss, and the arousal that had me in its talons at the pub increases to a fevered need. I take her again, stroking my tongue past her parted lips and into the hot sweetness of her mouth.

  I am hard as steel against the zipper of my jeans, every cell in my body on fire for her.

  She breaks away from my kiss on a ragged gasp. “How far is your apartment from here?”

  My lust-drenched brain takes a second to calculate the distance. “About ten minutes.”

  Her lips are glistening from my kiss as they curve into a sexy smile. “That’s nine minutes too long.”

  She moves closer and reaches into my lap to unfasten the button at my waistband. The zipper rasps as she tugs it down over the thick bulge of my erection. Then she slips her fingers into my boxer briefs to free my stiffened cock.

  “Ah, Christ.” I groan as she begins to stroke me. Then I let out a choked curse as she covers the head of my shaft with her hot, wet mouth and sucks me deep. “Fuck.”

  I lean my head back, one hand in her long hair, the other gripping the wheel like a lifeline as her tongue slides along the underside of my cock and her throat opens to take me farther in. Her fingers stroke me at the same time, one hand cupping my balls while the other pumps me from root to tip, moving in tempo with the incredible friction of her mouth.

  I look down at her as she bobs in my lap, the wet sounds and hungry moans that vibrate through me taking me swiftly to the edge. “That feels so good, baby. I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

  Paused with her lips teasing the head of my cock, she glances up at me. Her smile is pure sin. “Then you’d better drive fast, Boy Scout.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I croak.

  I put the vehicle into gear and punch the gas.

  I’m fairly certain I set a new land speed record, which is no small feat considering it also takes a miracle of self-control and focus to withstand the sensual onslaught of Eve’s perfect mouth and ruthless tongue. But my iron will can only last so long.

  As soon as I’m parked in my space in the small lot behind the old brick apartment building, I kill the engine, pack up my hard-on, and grab our bags. I practically drag Evelyn up the short flight of stairs to my unit on the second floor. Holding my free hand, she giggles in amusement as I drop the duffels and fumble for my keys in the hallway outside my door.

  I can’t help the shaking of my fingers. I’ve disabled bomb detonation devices and I’ve reloaded weapons without breaking a sweat while taking on heavy gunfire, yet knowing I’m only moments away from having Evelyn naked beneath me and I doubt right now I’d even be able to tie a damn shoelace if my life depended on it.

  Finally, I push the apartment door open on a curse and toss the bags in. Then I pull her inside with me. We crash together in a clumsy, urgent need, kissing and tugging at each other’s clothing as I guide us through the combination living room and dining room, toward the hallway that passes the bathroom and terminates at the single bedroom at the end.

  Beneath her dark T-shirt and faded jeans, Evelyn is wearing a scarlet silk bra and matching panties. I am careful with the pretty underthings this time, unfastening the clasp on her bra and drawing it off her beautiful breasts. I tuck the bra into the pocket of my jeans because I have plans for the pretty length of silk and lace.

  With Evelyn stripped down to just her panties and me shirtless in my jeans, I take her hand and walk briskly down the rest of the hallway.

  She nips my shoulder as I walk her into my bedroom. “Aren’t you going to give me a tour?”

  I chuckle, but it’s a dark, hungry sound. “I just did. I think you’ll agree this is the best room in the place.”

  I guide her onto the king-size bed and sit her down on the edge of it. Her hands caress me, running up and down my bare torso and around to my back. Her touch inflames me, but I refuse to let it own me. Not this time.

  Right now, she’s on my turf. On my terms. And I need her to recognize that.

  Hell, I need to prove it to myself too.

  Because this woman is becoming an addiction I’m not sure I can break. What’s worse is I can’t imagine I’ll want to--not even if it means losing everything I’ve worked to achieve.

  She is mine.

  Even though I know I don’t have the right to stake that claim, it’s alive inside me.

  “Lie back,” I command her, my voice low and harsh.

  When she obeys, I lean over her, taking possession of her mouth in a deep, unhurried kiss. She shudders as my lips move onto her throat, my tongue stroking along the line of her shoulders, then down onto the pretty swells of her breasts.

  “Gabriel,” she whispers as I suck one dark nipple between my teeth. “Oh, God.”

  She writhes and pants beneath my roving mouth, the scent of her desire punching into my senses and lighting fire to my veins. I skim my hands along her sides, then onto the curves of her hips. With my thumbs hooked into the sides of her panties, I remove the small scrap of silk and set it aside on the floor beside her bare feet.

  Her ankle is delicate in my grasp, her calf firm and soft against my lips as I kiss my way back up the long length of her leg. Her breath is shallow and rapid, her thighs quivering as I take them in my hands and open her to my hungry gaze.

  “So beautiful.” I stroke the dark, glistening folds of her sex, first with my fingers, then with my tongue. She sighs, a small tremor rippling through her and into me as I circle her clit and suck it into my mouth.

  I draw back on a groan, wishing I had all night to savor her. I’ve hardly begun and already I can tell she’s teetering at the brink of release.

  “Don’t come,” I order her. “Don’t come until I say so, baby. Can you do that?”

  Her answer is a moan and a nod, her lip caught under her straight white teeth.

  I smile up at her. “That’s my girl. Not afraid of any challenge. Now, move up to the center of the bed for me.”

  She does what I ask, and I stand up, facing her while I unfasten my jeans. Her heavy-lidded eyes watch every move of my hands as I slide the zipper down and push the denim and black boxer briefs over my hips and off the bulge of my erection.

  The throaty noise she makes as my cock springs free is so carnal it nearly kills me. With her gaze riveted on me, I grasp my shaft and stroke it a few times. “Look how hard you’ve got me. I can’t wait to get inside you, baby. But first I’m going to feel you come against my mouth.”

  She licks her lips and I feel it all the way to my balls.

  “Touch yourself,” I tell her, my voice sounding strangled. I ease up on my cock and pivot to take a seat on the edge of the mattress to finish removing my pants. “Show me how you want me to touch you, sweetheart. Let me see your pleasure--but not too far. Your orgasm belongs to me.”

  I watch as she caresses her breasts, her dusky green eyes closing on a thready sigh. “I want your hands on me,” she complains quietly. “Gabe, please . . . I need you.”

  I smile, taking too much satisfaction in that unabashed admission. My arousal edges on the verge of agony, my shaft jutting hard and hot against my abdomen as I watch her touch roam farther down her body. “You’re so fucking sexy, baby. I can still taste your sweetness on my tongue. Maybe I’ll feast on you all night.”

  She lets out a cry, and her fingers wade into the bare slit of her puss
y. She circles her clit, then pushes two digits inside her sex, and it’s a wonder my molars don’t crack for how tightly I have to clench my jaw to keep from pouncing on her.

  I shove my jeans down past the socket of my prosthesis and push the suction valve to free my leg. She opens her eyes, watching me as she continues to stroke herself, her thighs squeezing around her hand as her body undulates on the bed. Her fine muscles are straining, her light brown skin flushing a deeper, rosy hue. I’ve never seen anything so hot, so irresistibly sensual.

  “Fuck,” I utter hoarsely, reverently. “Don’t you come yet, Eve.”

  She tosses her head in denial, but I can see she’s struggling to hold on. I roll the sleeve off my stump and cast it aside, along with my prosthesis. Chucking the sneaker from my right foot, I remove my pants the rest of the way, pausing only long enough to pull the red bra out of the pocket.

  I move onto the bed with her, positioning myself between her spread legs. Gently, I still her hand and bring her fingertips to my mouth. Her juices are sweet and hot, more intoxicating than the strongest liquor.

  When I tie one end of the bra around her wrist, her eyes fly open. Her movements still, but her breath keeps soughing out of her, her pulse ticking furiously in the hollow below her throat.

  “Earlier tonight, you said you were ready to go anywhere I wanted to take you.” With the knot tied firmly, but comfortably, around her wrist, I kiss the center of her open palm. “Is this all right?”

  She swallows, her eyes rooted on mine. Then she nods.

  I growl, swamped by everything I feel for her right now. “Give me your other hand, sweetheart.”

  She obeys, and I finish binding her wrists with the length of scarlet silk and lace. I guide both of her arms up over her head, resting them on the pillow. “Keep them there, or I won’t let you come. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Her answer is little more than a gasp.

  I reward her with a slow, deep kiss before moving over her body. She pants and shivers under my mouth as I kiss a path from her mouth to her neck. I move lower, tasting every inch of her from the tight buds of her nipples, to the sweet hollow of her navel.