by Nina Lane
Clutching her hips, he tugged her farther down the bed and nudged her legs apart wider. The elastic of her tights dug into her thighs. He worked his finger into her cleft again, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat when he discovered just how wet and ready she was.
“Gavin…” She panted, wiggling her hips a little in invitation. “Fuck me.”
“Bad words from such a pretty mouth.” He gave her bottom another slap—hard enough to sting but not really hurt. “Spread your legs as wide as you can, honey.”
Pulse pounding, she did, though her thighs trembled from the constriction of the tights. His breath sawed through the air, heavy and deep. Then the head of his cock pressed against her damp slit.
She gasped and arched forward, her head spinning. She’d known he was big, but she hadn’t imagined he’d feel impossibly big, like there was no way he’d ever fit inside her.
He stopped, his hands tight on her ass. “Don’t tense up.”
Mia took a breath, flexing and unflexing her fingers on the pillow. He slipped his fingers to her pussy, opening her even more. A sudden heat flushed over her as she imagined what she must look like, her skirt flipped over her back, her tights still around her thighs, and her pussy spread open and on display.
For him.
She pressed her face in the pillow. He pushed forward, penetrating her inch by inch, his thick shaft stretching her fully.
“Ah, fuck.” His deep groan reverberated through her blood.
Sweat broke out on her skin. Her body worked to accommodate him, the heat of his cock pulsing against her inner walls. Gradually her trepidation eased, colored over with a pleasure that mounted with every powerful beat of her heart.
He stilled, fully seated inside her, his voice strained. “Okay?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the heat in her throat. He throbbed inside her. Electric sparks shot over her nerves. He moved his hands to her waist, steadying her. Then he started to move, easing partway out of her before rocking forward. The gentle movement allayed the last of her anxiety, as he primed her to accept his rhythm.
Her breath burned her chest. She stretched her arms out, grasping the sheets, her nipples chafing on the bedcover. He increased his rhythm slowly but steadily, his hair-roughened thighs abrading hers, his fingers digging into her hips. Her clit throbbed, the constraint of her tights increasing the delicious pressure.
“Gavin…” His name escaped on a rush of air. “That’s so good… please…”
He slipped one hand beneath her, his fingers finding the swollen bud. “Come on, my sweet little princess. Nice and hard.”
Mia gave up all pretense of control and writhed beneath him, pushing her bottom back to meet his thrusts. Her body jolted against the bed, his cock driving her arousal higher and higher. She whimpered and moaned, clawing at the bedcovers, struggling with the need for release and the overwhelming urge for this intense bliss to go on and on forever.
“Gavin, I feel it,” she gasped, her fever rising to the breaking point. “I’m so close, I—”
He pulled out of her abruptly. Confusion flooded her for half an instant before he grabbed her hips and turned her to face him.
Mia stared at him through the veil of hair that had fallen over her face. Need blazed in his blue eyes, sweat trickled down his temple, and his jaw was set with restraint. And his body… more gorgeous and powerful than she could have imagined, with sculpted pecs and a rigid washboard abdomen that she wanted to touch all over. His sheathed cock stood straight out from his groin, pulsing almost visibly, damp with her fluids.
Without hesitation, she pushed her panties and tights off, unzipped her skirt, and moved back on the bed, spreading her legs wide. A growl rumbled in his chest. He mounted her, shoving his hands under her thighs and plunging into her. She gripped his arms, unable to take her eyes off his, struck to the core by the hot, crackling energy that bound them together.
She came with a cry, arching up against him, stars exploding behind her eyes. Even as the sensations consumed her, he kept moving, fitting them together again and again, letting her rise and fall through the wave. Only when her pleasure began to ebb did he loosen the reins of his control. He sank deep inside her with a rough shout, his muscles locking and tensing beautifully as he surrendered to his own release.
He rolled beside her on the bed, his chest heaving. Mia fell back against the pillows and pressed her hands to her face. Her body trembled and quivered with lingering sensations, but even through the intense physical pleasure she sensed a profound shift deep inside her, like the plates of the earth separating and coming back together.
His hand settled on her belly. Mia lowered her arms slowly and opened her eyes. She turned her head to face him, finding him watching her with a hooded gaze. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, smooth the crease from between his eyebrows, soften his rigid jaw.
Before she gave in to the urge, she fumbled to wrap the sheet around her body and climbed out of bed. She went to the bathroom, unable to help herself from looking at Gavin’s personal items—the black brush on the counter, the straight-edged razor and bar of shaving soap, the prescription bottle of sleeping pills.
She returned to the bedroom and got back into bed, her insides fluttering as the scent of sex and their mingled fluids wafted over her.
“Do you want me to go?” she asked.
“No. You’re staying.”
The command—soft, rough, drowsy—lodged somewhere in her soul. There had once been a time when she couldn’t have imagined Gavin Knight ordering her to stay. She’d hoped for it, maybe fantasized about it, but deep inside she’d never really believed this impassive, hardened soldier would allow her this close.
She curled up beside him, feeling as if months rather than hours had passed since he’d shown up at her doorstep yesterday. She ran her finger over his pectoral muscles, fascinated by their sheer hardness, the strength that ran through every inch of his body.
“Do you have trouble sleeping?” She slid her hand down to his abs. “I saw the pills in the bathroom.”
“Yeah.” He put his arm over his eyes. “Sometimes shit comes back when my guard is down. Nightmares.”
An ache filled her chest. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d been through. What still haunted him. But his darkness made her, with her stuffed animals, heart-shaped pillows, and love of French romantic poetry, feel pointless and juvenile. While she’d been worrying about finding the right shade of lip gloss, Gavin had been in hell.
She turned away from him, hugging a pillow to her chest. The bed shifted. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. The strength of his chest and his rhythmic breathing eased a little of her distress. She rubbed her cheek on the pillow.
“I’d never hurt you,” he said.
“I know.” She closed her eyes. “But I hate that you went through so much bad stuff.”
He was silent for a moment before he asked, “You want to know why I pretended to ignore you for so long?”
“Yes.”
“Because you make the bad stuff disappear.” He threaded his hand through her hair. “I go into the bakery, and you’re there, like an ice-cream cone on a hot day. And I can sneak looks at you and think about how pretty you look in that skirt and about all the dirty things I want to do to you. I listen to you talk about needing a date for the weekend and planning to see some new band. I watch you bustling around, helping Polly behind the counter, decorating cupcakes. I smell your sweet scent every time you pass me. And the whole time I’m sitting there, I’m not thinking of anything except how fucking perfect the universe is to have created a girl like you.”
Mia’s heart skipped a thousand beats. She turned in his arms, searching his expression for the tenderness his words evoked.
She touched his jaw. “That… that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say.”
“It’s the truth.”
“But why did you have to ignore me to do all that?”
&nbs
p; “I was afraid if I talked to you, I’d break the spell.”
She traced his mouth with her fingers, stroking the secret notch beneath his lower lip. She couldn’t imagine him being afraid of anything.
“And now is the spell broken?” she whispered.
“No.” He curled a lock of her hair around his finger. “Now I’m trapped.”
Chapter
EIGHT
He woke from a shallow sleep, his breathing hard. Panic rustled in his chest. A few seconds passed before he realized he hadn’t woken from a replay of exploding bombs and gunfire, the rancid stench of blood.
No. Instead his head was filled with the smell of vanilla and flowers, underscored by the musky odor of sex. He turned. Mia lay turned away from him, her hair spread out like a fan on the pillow, her soft body wrapped around a pillow, her bare shoulder smooth and golden. Sleeping beauty.
He looked at the clock. Five a.m. He got out of bed, tugging on a pair of shorts. He used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and splashed cold water on his face. Mia was still asleep when he emerged.
He went into the kitchen and cleaned the pans and dishes from the previous night before starting a pot of coffee. He sat at the desk and leafed through yesterday’s mail. Instinctively, his guard went up at the sight of an envelope with his name and address written in scrawly black writing. He tore it open and pulled out a piece of paper.
Saw you on TV telling a fucking reporter about the “road closures” and “security” for the fucking wedding. One word for you and Stone. BOOM.
Gavin set the letter and envelope aside to give to the police. The threat was one he’d heard before. But he didn’t like that the stalker knew his home address. That was information he guarded fiercely.
“Morning.”
He turned from his desk. Mia stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt fell almost to her knees. Her feet were bare, her hair a tangled mess around her shoulders. He wanted to eat her up.
“Morning. You didn’t leave.”
“You told me to stay.” She approached, her footsteps silent on the tile floor. “Besides, you drove me here, remember? I have no way of getting home.”
He grasped her hips, pulling her onto his lap. She curled against him like a warm kitten, drawing her legs up and resting her head against his shoulder.
“Now who’s trapping who?” She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.
His blood thickened. A possessive part of him did want to trap her. Keep her here all to himself, a princess in a tower. Only one key. In his pocket.
“I’ll make you breakfast.” He patted her thigh. “Then I need to get ready for work.”
“Yeah.” She sighed, her breath brushing his neck. “I should go home and change.”
She eased herself off his lap. A rush of cold air filled the empty space she’d left.
“You don’t have to cook anything.” She poured a cup of coffee from the pot. “I’ll grab something on the way to work.”
“Fast food?” He shook his head and took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “No. This will take less than ten minutes.”
She sipped the coffee and made a face. “What is this?”
“Coffee.”
“This,” she pointed at the mug, “is not coffee.”
He indicated the can of ground coffee sitting beside the pot.
She took another experimental sip. “It tastes terrible.”
“Sorry.” Gavin cracked eggs into a bowl. Though his apology was flippant, he experienced an actual pang of regret that he couldn’t offer her one of her ridiculous caramel-chocolate concoctions loaded with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.
“Do you have any milk and sugar?” Mia asked.
“No.” But the next time she stayed over, he would. And there would definitely be a next time.
“Do you even eat sugar?” she asked.
“Not if I can help it. Sit down.”
“You like ordering people around, don’t you?”
“I like ordering you around. I also like taking care of you.”
“Hmm.” The noise rumbled in her throat like a purr. “I definitely like being taken care of by you. Maybe I even like it a little when you order me around.”
“Then why aren’t you sitting down?”
She rolled her eyes, her mouth curving with amusement, but sat at the counter. He cooked up a spinach omelet, put bread in the toaster, and sliced strawberries. A few minutes later, he piled a plate with the food and set it in front of her.
“You’re really into eating healthy.” She took a bite of the omelet, eyeing his chest. “And working out.”
He shrugged. “I had to be strong to deal with my father. Figured out early on that working out and eating well helped me both mentally and physically.”
“Is that why you’re kind of on my case about it?”
“Your nutrition needs work.” He eyed her chest in return, his blood heating at the sight of her breasts rounding the fabric of the shirt. “But there’s not a damned thing wrong with your body.”
She flashed him a smile. He could get addicted to her smile. Hell, he already was. He leaned his elbows on the counter, his hand around his coffee mug.
“I’ll review all the new plans for the wedding today and implement the necessary security changes,” he said, in an attempt to remember his main goal. “I want to do two walkthroughs of the venue, one this week and one the day before the wedding.”
“I’m meeting the caterer at the villa tomorrow at ten,” Mia said. “She wants to see where she’ll set up and the layout of the room.”
“I’ll be there.”
He waited for her to finish eating before he headed back to shower, shave, and dress. Tempted though he was to bring her into the shower with him, he had work to do. Not that that made it any easier to drive her back to her car.
The morning sun burned through the gray layer of ocean fog as he drove back to Indigo Bay. He stopped at an upscale coffeehouse, telling Mia to wait in the SUV before he went inside. He returned with a lidded, cardboard cup and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” She took the cup.
“Something called a caramel macchiato with chocolate syrup and extra whipped cream.” Gavin started the car and headed toward downtown. “It’s not your specialty drink, but the girl at the counter said it’s good.”
“Barista,” Mia said, a smile in her voice.
“What?”
“The girl at the counter of a coffeehouse is called a barista.”
“Well, she said it’s good.”
Mia pried off the lid and took a sip, then made one of those happy little noises in the back of her throat. He was starting to lov… really like the sounds she made.
“It’s delicious,” she said. “Thank you.”
He shrugged off her thanks, though her smile and evident pleasure made him feel like he’d just won the lottery. He tried to smother the feeling, knowing it would lead him nowhere good, as he parked behind her car and they got out.
He put all the wedding binders back in the trunk and slammed it shut, resting his hands on the top.
“So… thanks.” Mia tossed her purse into the front seat and set her coffee in the cup holder. “I mean, that was fun.”
Fun. Not a word he’d have used, even if it was true. Fun implied a one-time thing or a date she’d have with a college boy. This wasn’t a one-time thing, or even two. No fucking way.
She put her hand on the open door, shifting her weight uncertainly to one foot. For all her sassy confidence, she had spells of hesitation and self-consciousness that showed in her fidgety movements.
He suspected it was a result of her hard shift from the sheltered ivory tower of academia back to mundane reality. She’d been lauded and admired in college, which was likely also why she’d turned up her flirtations to the tenth degree after graduation. If she could no longer be admired for her academic abilities, she’d draw attention with he
r looks and coyness.
He approached her, sliding his hand around the back of her neck. She parted her lips in expectation of a kiss.
“I’ll be finished with work around nine,” he said. “Wait for me at your place.”
She arched an eyebrow in challenge. “I might have plans tonight, you know.”
“Cancel them.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a mutinous look, as if she wanted to find out what he’d do if she resisted. And he wanted to show her, but this wasn’t the time.
He narrowed his eyes sternly. “I mean it.”
She grinned. “‘Anybody want a peanut?’”
“What?”
Mia’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. “You’re kidding. Vizzini and Fezzik?”
“What are you talking about?” And how had she gotten him off-topic?
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “The Princess Bride. Haven’t you ever seen it?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“If you had, you’d remember the rhyming,” Mia said. “You’d remember everything. To blave, you killed my father, is this a kissing book, inconceivable—”
Gavin grasped her shoulders, hauling her against him. He planted a swift, hard kiss on her lips.
“Enough,” he said. “I’ll be at your place tonight. And at noon, I want you to text me a list of five things you’re good at that aren’t a result of your academic success. And that have nothing to do with flipping your hair or your knowledge of The Princess Bride.”
“Five things I’m good at?” Mia blinked. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“What for?”
He fisted his hand in her hair and gently tugged. “So we’ll both know.”
She gave a short laugh. “Like I said… strangest man I’ve ever met.”
“Noon.” He stepped away from her.
She got into the car, pushing the key into the ignition.
“But you were right,” she admitted. “You can definitely make me come hard enough to see stars. Galaxies of them.”
