The skies were still heavy and gray, the foot traffic on the street limited to a few hardy souls with umbrellas. We chatted for a while, raising our voices to be heard over the pattering of the rain on the black and gold awning in front of the hotel. Jeremy was a student at Columbia, and though I’d initially felt old talking to him, it was a shock to realize that we were only a year apart in age. In experience, though? Light years.
A taxi pulled up at the curb, and a few more brain surgeons spilled out, laughing loudly and making their unsteady way to the door. Jeremy jumped to hold it open, and I scanned the street, looking for Gabe’s driver. My phone rang, the display reading an unidentified number with a Chicago area code, and I answered it, thinking maybe Gabe had changed his mind, but no one was there.
I hung up, and about two blocks down the street, an older-model car pulled out from the opposite side of the road, made a U-turn, and accelerated. The honking horns of pissed-off drivers caught my attention, so I was watching as the black sedan wove close to cars parked on the street, then overcorrected to straddle the yellow center line.
About fifty feet away, the car swerved toward the side again, clipping the side mirror off a parked car before jumping the curb. A woman on the sidewalk with a bright red umbrella dodged to the side with a scream, and I heard Jeremy cry out in alarm as she narrowly escaped.
As if everything that was happening had shifted into slow motion, I watched the car barrel down the street.
The windshield was tinted dark, and the driver was just an indistinct shape behind the wheel. Twenty feet away, he clipped a small, skinny tree that had been planted in a grate near the road. It broke about a foot up from the base and fell to the side with a rustling of leaves. He narrowly missed a fire hydrant, one of the bolts on the side grinding against the passenger side door of the car with a metallic shriek.
I jumped backward, landing lightly on the balls of my feet, my back against the building, but Jeremy was staring, as if transfixed, standing directly in the path of the oncoming car. Jeremy, friendly twenty-three-year-old art student from Nebraska, one of six brothers and sisters, who planned to graduate in the fall and become a commercial artist.
I lunged forward, grabbed his arm, and used his weight as momentum to swing him out of the way, sending him reeling toward the glass windows of the St. Clair. That left me low and off-balance, my back to the oncoming car, and I ducked one shoulder, dropping into a fast side roll that I hoped would take me far enough out of the way that I wouldn’t end up a smear on the concrete.
I swear to God, the breeze of the passing car whipped my ponytail to one side as there were almost simultaneous sounds of metal on metal impact. Everything went dark as the awning whooshed down on top of us. The roar of an engine was muffled, as was the yelling of bystanders, and I clawed my way out of the suffocating black fabric.
“Jeremy, are you okay?” He didn’t answer, and once I’d freed myself from the folds of material, I yanked it back, working along the side of the building, trying to find him. One of the doctors was trying to push against a door from the inside, fighting to get around the piled-up awning, when I uncovered Jeremy’s body, crumpled against the building.
“No, no, no…” I murmured, carefully turning him over. I didn’t see blood, but once I cleared his face, I saw that he had a knot on his forehead. The doctor finally made it out of the door and dropped down to his knees next to me. He felt at Jeremy’s neck for a pulse.
Jeremy’s face contracted in a sudden grimace, and he squinted up at us against the rain. “Did it hit me?” he croaked.
The doctor shook his head and wheezed out a laugh. I smelled liquor. “Hell, no, kid. This lady launched you out of the way so hard, she knocked you right the fuck out. The ‘boom’ when you hit the window was what got our attention. Look at that.” He pointed up at where cracks spiderwebbed out from an impact spot on the window. Behind the glass, about a dozen faces looked out with various expressions of amazement and curiosity.
“Oh my god, Jeremy. I’m so sorry.” Mortified, I helped him sit up.
“Don’t be,” said the woman with the red umbrella I’d seen a few moments before, holding a cell phone to her ear. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. “I watched the whole thing. If you hadn’t thrown him out of the way, he’d be dead right now.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Gabe
I paced the length of the windows overlooking Clark Street, watching for the Lexus. It was seven-forty. Was she being stubborn? Pulling some female move and making me wait on purpose? Was Jeff still parked in front of her building, waiting? My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket.
“You owe me a new awning, a tree, and a front window.”
Beckett.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Olivia was involved in an incident outside a little while ago. She’s still in the lobby, talking to the police, but since Jeff’s with her, I figured you were expecting her. She’s fine,” he hurried to add, “but there was some damage to the hotel.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “What happened?”
“From what they can tell, a drunk driver almost hit her.” He went on to describe what the doorman had told him and how Liv had pulled him out of the way of the oncoming car. A cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and my shoulders tensed.
“Are they sure it was a drunk driver?”
“Yeah. There’s a convention going on down the street, and this place is overflowing with rich doctors blowing off steam after a long day of sitting through lectures. Most of them started drinking at lunchtime and haven’t quit. Police are of the opinion one of them was driving back here, lost control of his car, and kept going. There was some sketchy cell phone video of just the tail end of everything, and it looks like a drunk driver to me too. I’ll send you the link so you can take a look.”
“Do that.”
“And hey, Gabe, she really is hot.”
He hung up before I could bitch at him.
My text alert pinged, and I clicked the link that Beckett had sent. The video was shaky and less than a minute long and had already been uploaded to Facebook. A black car, license plate blurred because of the rain on the camera, rocketed down the sidewalk, took out a tree, and skimmed a hydrant. Under the awning, Olivia jumped into motion. She grabbed the doorman and sent him flying into the window, where he fell. Then, my stomach dropped as she hit the ground, completely obscured by the car. It knocked down the awning supports and then corrected course, swerving back onto the road. The car disappeared from view as whoever was filming then ran to the fallen awning, the camera bobbing and jerking, where Olivia was clawing her way to the surface.
The video could have just as easily shown her bloody, mangled corpse. The way she disappeared beneath the front of that car was chilling.
I forced my breathing to steady, dropping the phone on the couch. She was fine. She would be here soon, and she was fine. Still, it felt like the longest half-hour of my life before Jeff texted and said she was on her way up to my penthouse. I was waiting in the open doorway as she stepped off the elevator.
“Gabe,” she nodded coolly, crossing the hall. Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her. I inhaled the smell of her, rain and cinnamon. She let me hold her a moment before pulling away, a half-smile on her face. “I take it someone called you and told you why I was late?”
“Come in,” I ordered. “Are you hurt anywhere? Your pants are torn. Did you land on your knee?”
She let out a low laugh. “My jeans were like that before. I’m fine. Minor damage.” She pivoted to show me the back of her shirt, a little dirty, with a small rip in the seam that ran along the back of her shoulder.
“What the hell is your problem,” I demanded. My words were harsh, but I kept my hands gentle, tilting her head back so I could see a light scrape on her chin.
She stepped away from me, her dark eyes going thunderous. “What do you mean?�
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“Why are you always flinging yourself into the most dangerous situations possible?”
“Let me get this straight.” Her voice was ominously quiet. “You think it’s my fault some drunk fucker almost ran me down tonight?”
“No. I think it’s your fault you choose to live and work in the neighborhood you do. I think it’s your fault you drive a motorcycle more dangerously than most people would dare to drive a car. I think it’s your fault you hang around in shitty neighborhoods in your spare time. And I sure as shit think it’s your fault you decided to put yourself in danger to get the doorman out of the way.”
She stared up at me, and I thought I had finally stunned her into silence, but then Olivia exploded. “First, you are a creep. You hunted me down where I work and where I live, stalking me. I knew I was being followed, but jeezus. You’re insane. And then you fault me for not standing there watching some poor guy get run down by a car? Having stalked me for days, you should know enough about me by now to know that I couldn’t do that.”
“I saw the video,” I said bluntly. “I saw you disappear under the front of that car, and there was no way I could imagine you having lived through that. Much as you might like to think so, you’re not a fucking ninja.”
“So, what? What does it matter to you? Afraid that the last week will have been a completely pointless waste of your time? Use your billions to hire a private investigator. I’m dispensable to you.”
I had to shut her up.
In two steps, she was in my arms again, this time with my mouth on hers. She was warm and soft, but unyielding, and I ran my hands up her front to firmly cup her breasts, flicking my thumbs over her nipples. She caught fire. Her hands speared through my hair, gripped my shoulders for balance.
“Hold on.” I broke off for a moment, scooping Liv up in my arms. I wanted her in my bed.
Eyes slightly dazed, she took in my penthouse, the vaulted ceilings and modern design as I carried her up the stairs. “Nice place,” she commented breathlessly.
“Thanks. I’m going to show you the bedroom now. I’ll give you a tour of the rest later.” I set her down in the middle of my room. “If you don’t want this, you need to stop me now.”
“No.” She licked those luscious lips. “We’re good.”
Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, and I tried to deny the need insistently thrumming through me to throw her down, to take her now, and instead, I pulled up the loose gray shirt she wore. A faint bruise was already forming under the silky, pale skin over her ribs and I ran my thumb over it.
“It’s fine,” she said and pulled my head back down until our mouths collided again. Her mouth was fire and suction, like she was trying to suck the life from me.
She unbuttoned my shirt briskly, and even though it was what I wanted, I also wanted her to slow down. Pushing the cotton off my shoulders, her hands went to the button of my jeans. I put my hands over hers to stop her from unzipping my fly.
“What?” she challenged, a flush riding high in her cheeks. She ran her hand over my cock, base to tip, through the denim. “You’re ready. I’m ready. Why wait?”
“Fine. You want it hard and fast?” My control snapped, and I grabbed her around the waist and tossed her backward onto my bed. “I’ll give it to you hard and fast.” She bounced once and grinned at me in a way that was almost savage, already reaching back to unfasten her bra.
I pulled off her shoes as she wriggled her jeans down her hips. “Come on, Gabriel,” she urged, kicking them to one side. But instead of stripping off the rest of my clothes, I ripped off the insubstantial scrap of lace that covered her before settling between her thighs. Hooking my hands under her knees, I lifted them over my shoulders. She tasted sweet and salty, and the spicy scent of her surrounded me. I licked deeply, swirling my tongue around her engorged clit, and she shuddered hard.
“Please,” she gasped, pushing up onto her elbows.
I just growled in response, my face still between her legs, and plunged two fingers into her wet heat. She screamed, her legs trembling, and lurched up, eyes wild. Her internal muscles clamped down on my fingers like a fist, her heels digging into my back as she rode the orgasm that had assaulted her.
“Gabe. Please. Now.”
I climbed up her body, kissing up her stomach and to her breasts, taking a nipple deep into my mouth, smiling as she continued to beg. I quickly stripped off my jeans and returned to her, gripping my cock in my fist. It was already slick with pre-cum, and I slid the head up, nudging between her folds, making her gasp.
Then it hit me. Damn.
I collapsed onto her, thinking frantically, but I already knew the answer. I’d used my last damn condom with her in Detroit, and with all the shit going on, I hadn’t thought to buy another box.
“What’s wrong?”
I groaned against her skin. “I’m out of condoms.”
She groaned too, but she didn’t let me go. “I’m on the pill, and I never miss it. My GYN appointment was last month, and I have a full battery of tests each year whether I need it or not.” She let out a little laugh. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but if you’re… if you’re clean, I’m willing to take the risk.”
The trust in that statement was humbling, and I raised up on my elbows so she could see my eyes. “I might be a bastard, but I’m not so sick that I would intentionally hurt you like that. So, yes. I’m clean. I get tested regularly too, and with my life having been blown open, it’s been a while since I did anything but work.”
She smiled, her hands moving to both sides of my face. “Then fuck me. Please.”
Shifting my hips, I aligned our sexes until the tip of my cock pressed against her wet heat. “I’ve never done this before, gone bare, I mean.”
She smiled again, those dark eyes shining up at me. “Me neither.”
Over the past few years, I’d made stupid decisions and had kept my head buried in the sand when it came to my business. I should have been afraid of doing something else stupid. I should have been afraid to take such a risk.
I wasn’t.
Maybe I would pay for it later, but…
I sank into her, groaning as her tight walls gripped me in welcome.
She closed her eyes and her breath left her on a long sigh as I slid in smoothly to the hilt. The sensation was incredible. Heat, warmth, surrounding me, gripping me tight as her inner muscles contracted. I held still for a moment, savoring the feeling of completion. It was like nothing I’d experienced with anyone.
Olivia’s dark lashes fanned her cheeks. Her skin was flushed and pink, and I traced the contours of her breasts with questing fingers, watching her nipples draw up tighter, jutting toward me. Lowering, I took one in my mouth, toyed with it, nipped gently, and paid the other the same attention. I was throbbing, aching to move, balls drawn up tight, wanting to come in her so badly, but this was like a moment out of time, and I didn’t want it to end.
I bit the side of her throat, and she moaned. “Okay?” I whispered.
She opened her eyes and nodded in little jerks. Grabbing my head, she pulled me down to her and darted her tongue between my lips. I wondered if she could taste herself on me. I pulled out slowly, the friction between us making her whimper. She lifted her legs to hook behind my back, and I put my hands under her hips, cupping her firm cheeks, lifting to change the angle of penetration, thrusting harder.
“Yes, Gabe. Yes.”
When her nails dug into my back, the sharp sting caused a surge of pleasure, and I increased my pace, hammering into her until she was shrieking.
“Come, Liv, let go,” I growled. The tingle at the base of my spine told me that I was about to come, but I was taking her with me. “Come, sweet Liv,” I demanded, sliding a hand between us to circle her clit with my thumb.
In seconds, she was shuddering and gasping, her pussy clamping down on my cock as rhythmically as a heartbeat. I closed my eyes, pounding harder, my hips swiveling, reaching, and then I came h
ard, jerking again and again as I filled her.
She held me through it, her face pressed against the side of my neck. It seemed to go on endlessly but ended too soon, and I collapsed, rolling to my side so I didn’t crush her.
But I couldn’t let her go.
Wouldn’t let her go.
Wrapping Olivia in my arms, I took her with me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Liv
Holy.
Shit.
It was the only coherent thought I could come up with. My nerves felt scraped raw, overly sensitized, and I was grateful for Gabe’s arms anchoring me. He ran one big hand gently up my back in a sweeping caress. “You good?”
“I’m good.” My voice was rough, and I flinched. We were lucky the police weren’t at the door, the way I was screaming.
He laughed softly, his chest vibrating against mine. “Don’t worry. Soundproof walls.”
“Mind reader.”
Carefully, gently, he disentangled us, his spent cock slipping from me. I realized that I was probably leaving a huge wet spot on his beautiful, satiny comforter. He rolled off the bed, and I was jealous that he’d managed to recover so quickly from… whatever that had been. A level deeper than just fucking, that was for sure. I didn’t think my legs would support my weight.
“The bathroom’s over there,” he said quietly, gesturing to a door off to the right. “I’ll be right back.” Unconcerned with his nakedness, he left the room. God, he was a beautiful man. Sculpted muscles, tanned and sleek. It was enough to make my mouth water.
But I scrambled off the bed, grabbed my shirt off the floor, and made my weak legs carry me to the bathroom before he came back. I made use of a washcloth, scrubbed my teeth with some toothpaste and my finger, and put on my shirt, which fell to mid-thigh.
I would have been more comfortable and a little less vulnerable with my underwear, but they were a casualty of war. My ponytail was still in place, but haphazardly pushed to the left, so I took the elastic out and combed my hair, leaving it down.
When I came out of the bathroom, backlit in the darkness of the room, Gabe was sprawled across the bed, still naked. He’d turned down the comforter. His silvery eyes gleamed when he saw me, and before I switched off the light, he held out a bottle of water, patting the mattress next to him.
Claiming My Vengeance Page 10
