Say Yes & The Cinderella Solution

by Lori Foster

  “Well, you know how it is,” she teased, breathlessly. “Laundry day’s tomorrow, and it’s all I had left….”

  He laughed, tracing the low edge of the now-open bodice with his tongue. “Remind me to bring a load of laundry over,” he said, his breath tickling her skin. “I think I’d like to know you’re not wearing anything when I get there.”

  She was going to chuckle, but he edged the material lower and she didn’t have any more breath to laugh with.

  She was amazing. He cupped the undersides of her breasts and teased her through the satiny material. He watched as her nipples grew rock hard under his attention, and smiled tenderly as she edged up to meet his mouth. She was breathing in sexy little gasps, a combination of surprise and arousal. She moved like a dancer, all grace and strength. She pulled her head up and kissed him, nipping at his throat with sharp little teeth. It threatened to send him over the edge, to just grip her and take her.

  The glint of sexual challenge in her eyes only encouraged him to take it even more slowly, to torture her the way she was torturing him. He’d take all night and part of the morning if he had to.

  He slipped the teddy off her, and revised that thought. He’d last maybe five minutes at this rate.

  Her body was perfection. Firm, high breasts over a toned stomach, hips flaring out into curvaceous legs. She twisted a little, obviously unused to being naked to the light of a man’s eyes. The little action made him smile.

  He stroked her legs lovingly, promising himself that he’d give more attention to them later, when he wasn’t under the driving, brutal passion that was grilling him as he caressed her.

  She grasped one of his hands. “No fair,” she said breathlessly. “It’s your turn.” She reached for his waistband. He gave her a surprised look. For someone so shy, she took the lead with a look of hunger that tripled what he was already feeling. If this kept up, he might die. But he would certainly die happy.

  She was struggling for control as he lay back on the bed, grinning, encouraging her. She undid the button and zipper on his jeans, then eased them off.

  He was wearing silk boxers with a dark paisley pattern. She could see the evidence of his arousal springing forward against the slick fabric. She tossed the jeans aside, then paused. “Aren’t those the boxers I bought you for your birthday?”

  He started to nod, then hissed sharply as she smoothed her hands over them, giving loving attention to his hardness. “Mmm. They didn’t feel this good in the box.”

  He choked.

  She laughed, teasing him the way he’d teased her, pressing kisses on his legs, on his chest, at his waistband. Before she could dip lower, he growled, pinning her on the bed. “You keep that up, angel, and I’ll be embarrassed. I want tonight to be good for you.”

  “Gabe,” she whispered, pausing to kiss him deeply. “I’m finally with you. It’s already perfect.”

  He smiled, like a man who’d been given the gift he’d always dreamed of, and she shivered as he took her mouth in a kiss sweeter than any she’d ever experienced.

  The sweetness converted to hunger, and hunger to fire. She’d always been self-conscious about her body, the first to dive under the covers in her long-ago romantic episodes. She’d never felt particularly confident in bed, for that matter. But tonight was different. Tonight she felt like all those women she’d only read about…temptresses, seductresses. Women men went crazy for. Women men loved.

  When he leaned down to kiss her neck, she moaned, wrapping her arms around him, stroking strong, eager fingers down his back. He nipped at her breasts, making her trembling even more pronounced.

  “Gabe,” she said, clutching at him. “Please. I need…”

  He groaned. “Angel, I need you, too.”

  He tugged off his boxers.

  He was magnificent. His skin was gleaming and chiseled. He reminded her of a Donatello bronze that she’d studied in school. Except that his arousal was…

  She cleared her throat nervously. He’s huge.

  Something must have reflected in her face, because despite the passion that was clearly burning through him, Gabe chuckled. “Second thoughts, angel?”

  “Eep.”

  He laughed, nuzzling at her neck. She could feel the pounding in his chest, echoing the reckless pulse in hers. He kissed her throat, stroking her back with butterfly-light touches that had her melting into him like butter on toast. When she felt his hardness pressing at the soft flesh of her thighs, a wave of molten dampness answered between her legs. She arched her hips up, cuddling him intimately.

  He stopped, poised at the brink of her. His breathing was labored. “Charlotte.”

  She looked up. His eyes were rings of blazing silver around circles of opaque black fire.

  “You’d better want me as much as I want you, because from here on there’s no stopping.”

  It took her a minute to figure out what he was saying, drenched in passion as she was. He was giving her one last chance to stop what they’d started. He was letting her decide.

  The fever inside her was beyond reasoning. She arched up against him, kissing him fiercely as she moved her legs to curve around him.

  With a groan, he pressed forward, and she felt him fill her with delicious slowness. She gasped, loud. “Gabe…”

  “Oh God, angel,” he breathed.

  He moved inside her, rocking with gentle thoroughness. She could feel the pressure of him, moving over her most delicate flesh, and felt fire roar through her. She pushed her hips up to meet him, wrapping her legs tightly around his.

  “Gabe,” she breathed. “I can’t…I’m…” Her pulse pounded in her ears and she was shouting his name.

  He moved against her, and she could feel the slick sweat between them. He was bringing her to the edge, and she could feel that elusive pulse start to ring through her. She pushed against him, and he drove into her, hard.

  She was catapulted over into oblivion, every sense overloading. She cried out, clenching him tight. “Gabe!”

  “Charlotte,” he groaned in answer, and his hips jerked hard against hers, once, twice.

  He sunk on top of her, their arms twined around each other, as if they could never let go. After a long moment, he pushed himself up on one arm, stroking her sweat-dampened bangs out of her face. He smiled rakishly.

  “I won,” he said.

  She blinked. “You won what?”

  “I made you lose control first.” He leaned onto his back, carrying her with him until she was sprawled on top of him. He kissed her quickly. “So, do I get anything? Fabulous cash prizes? A trip to Bermuda?”

  She chuckled. Her head was still reeling from what they’d just done. And amazingly, as his fingers stroked down between her shoulder blades, she felt an aftershock of pleasure. She squirmed and his eyes widened as she rubbed against him.

  “I think you were cheating,” she said, moving seductively, her breathing going shallow. This is ridiculous. You just had a sexual experience that nearly blinded you! And you’re ready to do it again?

  His breathing went uneven, but he smiled. “What are you suggesting?”

  She leaned down and kissed him luxuriously, until they were both breathless and gasping. “Tiebreaker,” she said, when she could finally speak.

  “Two out of three?” he said, moving up with one lusciously rough motion.

  She gasped. “You’re on.”

  10

  GABE WOKE UP SLOWLY, sensing the sunlight pouring in through his window. He was hot, was the first thing that came to mind. And a little cramped, now that he thought about it. But strangely, he wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, he had an overwhelming feeling of well being, bordering on satiation. Hell, he felt happy. And when was the last time he’d faced a morning with that emotion?

  He started to roll over and encountered a girl-shaped lump.

  He froze.

  It was his apartment, his bed. His best friend.

  Oh, no.

  He had just made love with Charlott
e. Several times, in fact.

  The shock of what he’d done was nothing compared to the jolt he got as he remembered the night before. He’d told himself, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t touch her. He’d just talk it out and be adult about the whole thing! He’d explain what was happening, and then he’d be able to keep his best friend, instead of getting into bed with her, which would lead to a relationship that would be doomed to failure. He knew what was at stake and still he had been the stereotypical guy, letting his body do all the talking!

  If he had known this was going to happen, he would have locked himself in, unplugged his phone and sat in his living room with the lights out.

  He closed his eyes as more images of the previous night invaded. Or would he?

  He tried to calm the unruly response of his body, which even now reacted to the memories of what they’d done. He’d never kissed a woman the way he’d kissed Charlotte. Those kisses weren’t a maneuver to get her to sleep with him. He’d kissed her that way because he needed her, because she felt so perfectly right beneath him. And once she’d gotten there, the whole thing had changed. She’d turned into… Well, he couldn’t quite describe what she’d turned into.

  All he could say was, they’d gone five out of seven, and she’d won. And he never would have expected that his best friend Charlotte Taylor would be his perfect sexual complement in bed.

  She was sexier than he’d ever dreamed anyone could be, her body like silk and fire. That generous mouth of hers, moving over him…

  Now he leaped out of bed. Okay, no more thoughts down that path, or he’d be sure to get into more trouble than he was already in!

  He couldn’t resist looking at her, though, and the sight made his heart beat unevenly. She was tangled in the sheets, still completely naked. Her body looked lean and graceful. Her hair was tousled and her face was relaxed, her full lips still curving in the remnants of a smile. She had a mark on her neck where he’d kissed her a little harder than he realized.

  He leaned down, pressing his lips gently where the mark was. She gave a soft little sigh, turning toward him blindly.

  He pulled back as if burned.

  He hastily snatched up some clothes and dove into the bathroom. Putting himself under the spray of the shower, he berated himself. Charlotte wasn’t a Saturday night pickup or the Babe of the Week. She was, quite possibly, the most important woman he’d ever met. He couldn’t use her like this.

  Maybe you weren’t using her.

  The thought was quiet, sneaky, and he growled under his breath. Ah, the ever-helpful conscience. He was wondering when that would show up. And, as usual, it provided no helpful advice whatsoever. He didn’t want a relationship with anyone, much less the one woman he knew he needed to keep by him for the rest of his life. If he got into a relationship with her, he’d lose her, it was as simple as that. Honestly, what was his conscience thinking?

  Okay, that’s it. I’m letting you screw this one up all by yourself.

  It’s about time, Gabe thought as he got out of the shower and hastily toweled himself off. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the foggy mirror. His eyes were wild, and he was frowning and muttering.

  He was in worse shape than he thought. He was actually arguing with himself!

  He got dressed and walked through the bedroom. Charlotte was still sleeping, obviously exhausted. When he saw her, he didn’t see what he had in every other relationship. He knew that he’d never ride an emotional roller coaster with her. He wouldn’t see jealousy, he wouldn’t be forced into little dramas and psychological showdowns. She wouldn’t ever hurt him.

  As long as she was his friend.

  But he knew her. She was looking to get married, to be wildly in love. She deserved to be in love, even though his chest ached uncomfortably at the thought. She didn’t deserve to be hurt because her best friend was an ass. If she had been any other woman, he’d have convinced her to call in sick and they would have spent the day in bed, finding new and exciting ways to enjoy each other. Then, once he’d figured out what it was he couldn’t stand, or once she’d played one too many games or thrown one too many tantrums or just gotten a little too clingy, he’d gently break it off and go back to his old life.

  He knew there was no way he would feel, or do, any of that to Charlotte. At least, he wouldn’t do it intentionally. But what if it did happen? She wouldn’t bring in expectations, but she would leave with disappointments. There was no way he could keep her as the friend he needed. And he needed her desperately. God, how he needed her.

  Damage control, he thought. Stop this now, before it gets worse.

  He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. “Charlotte,” he wrote. “Meet me at Hennessy’s at seven-thirty. Gabe.”

  Sighing, he left it on the bedside table. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head and kissed her. Even asleep, she stirred beneath his lips, pressing against him. He let himself linger for just a second. After she sees me tonight, I’ll never be able to touch her again.

  He tore himself away.

  Got to stop this now, he told himself, locking the door behind him. Before it’s too late.

  “WHAT IS WITH you today?” Wanda snapped.

  Charlotte stopped, midstride, a dazed smile on her face. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “You’re singing.” Wanda’s finely drawn eyebrow lifted. “You never sing.”

  Ryan walked up to her. “You’ve been dancing in the hallway, too. What’s going on, girl?”

  “Nothing. I’m happy.” Charlotte hugged her folder of sketches to her chest. “Did somebody pass a happiness law when I wasn’t looking or something?”

  “You’re more than happy,” Wanda said with some asperity, studying her as if she were a bug under a microscope. “You’re glowing.”

  Ryan squinted, then stopped, his eyes widening. “Oh, no.”

  Charlotte mistrusted that expression on his face. “What?”

  “You got lucky, didn’t you?” Ryan crowed with laughter. “Wait till Gabe gets a load of this!”

  Charlotte winced.

  Wanda snapped her fingers. “That’s it! I thought I recognized that look!” She pursed her lips. “I’ve just never seen it on Charlotte before, that’s all.”

  “Meeeow.” Ryan glanced at Wanda, grinning. “Sheathe those claws, Catwoman. So, Charlotte, who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Remind me again how this became your business,” Charlotte retorted, making a beeline toward her office. Ryan and Wanda were hot on her heels.

  “Aw, come on, Charlotte. How can you expect me to leave a prime piece of gossip like this one alone? The rest of the Hoodlums have a right to know!”

  “Yeah, Charlotte,” Wanda said, practically purring. “You can’t keep this a secret.”

  “Right to know? Freedom to gossip is not covered in the constitution!” Charlotte tried to be more angry about it, but the fact was, she was too ecstatic to even care that they were hassling her. “My sex life is private, as in none-of-your-business private. Only one other person is privy to the details.” She smirked, winking at Ryan. “And that’s only because it wouldn’t be any fun if he didn’t know, you know?”

  Ryan roared with laughter as Wanda gaped. “At least tell me this,” Ryan hounded. “How was it?”

  “How was it?” Hard as she tried, her pulse picked up and she felt the dumb grin she’d been wearing all day broaden. “It was incredible. Out of this world.” She stopped, seeing them at the edge of their figurative seats, drinking in every word. “It was just fine, thank you very much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” Way to be discreet, Charlotte!

  She began to close the door, but Wanda grabbed the door handle. Her green eyes widened. “Oooh! You have a hickey!”

  Charlotte’s hand flew to her throat, where the makeup she’d so carefully applied must have worn off.

  “Charlotte’s got a hick-ey, Charlotte’s got a hickey!” Ryan sang cheerfully.

  �
�Grow up,” she groaned, before slamming the door in their faces. She could hear the chanting and hooting laughter for another minute or so before Ryan finally disappeared, his chuckles echoing down the hallway.

  She sat down, putting her folder on her desk. She was going to get no work done today, she could tell that right now. Anything she drew would have hearts and flowers on it…or be very, very risqué.

  Last night had been more than incredible. She didn’t have words to describe the experience. Anything she might have expected was completely surpassed.

  And best of all, she’d won, she thought with a wicked grin.

  She shook her head, feeling her pulse increase as the heat built in the pit of her stomach. Oh, she wanted him. It had been creeping up on her all morning, no matter what she was doing or who she was talking to. She could not get Gabe out of her mind.

  How was she supposed to know that her best friend for twenty years was the man of her dreams?

  But he was more than just her best friend now. The image of him would be irrevocably linked to an image of the two of them, tangled in sheets and each other. She would never be able to look at him and just think “weekend football” or “poker night.” How could they just share a couch without thinking of what had happened when they’d finally shared a bed?

  Not to say that they weren’t still friends. To her mind, that’s what made it all so perfect. She knew his heart, his secret dreams and fears. He knew hers. There wasn’t any awkward getting-to-know-you period, no hesitancy. There was nothing they couldn’t share with each other. They clicked so perfectly before; now they were meshed. They were one heart.

  She’d always known that she loved him, as a friend. Now she valued his friendship as a lover.

  He hadn’t woken her up this morning, which was just as well. She would have pounced on him again and neither of them would have made it in to work. She’d never felt that way about Derek, this insatiable hunger. Of course, one man could hardly be considered a control group. If she’d met someone like Gabe to start with, maybe she would have had the hunger sooner.