by Kim Law
In a moment of childishness, Erica Googled a picture and sent it to Bree with the comment:
I might need you to order this for one particular ex if he doesn’t leave me alone.
The picture was of a box of extra-small condoms.
Then she started her car, laughing out loud at her actions, and headed for home. Just sending the picture made her feel better. It did nothing to change the way things were, but it left her feeling as if she’d somehow put JC in his place.
Her phone chirped from the passenger seat, but she’d wait until she got home to read it.
She pulled into her parking spot at her house and waved at Gabe, who stood in the front yard while Mike sniffed at a bush.
“Good evening, Coach,” she greeted as she climbed out of the car. She’d noted the grin that broke across his face the instant he’d seen her and couldn’t hold back one of her own.
“Good evening, Ms. Bird.”
Her words had been light and teasing, but his read somewhat deeper. Which made her recall that a little more than twelve hours earlier, she’d seriously hated separating her lips from his. As she drank him in now, she decided to go inside and start work on a new dance routine. One she just might leave her blinds open for.
Instead of going over to him as she wanted to, she headed for her house. For now, they had the mornings, and that was enough.
But that might very soon change.
As she unlocked her front door, she heard, “See you in the morning, Ms. Bird,” come from across the road, and she grinned once more. She looked over her shoulder, and she couldn’t help herself. She blew him a kiss.
The wickedness on his features at that small act had her biting her lip. Yes. It was very definitely nearing time for more than an early morning chat.
She closed the door behind her as she entered the apartment and flipped on her overhead lights, and then she took in the pole that seemed to be waiting for her. But before heading to it, she checked the message that had come in from Bree.
Done.
Her throat dried as she stared at the screen.
Done?
Purchased and on its way.
What?
Erica let her bag fall to the floor. Her sister had seriously sent JC a box of extra-small condoms?
She covered her mouth with her hand as her shoulders began to shake with laughter. Of course Bree had sent the condoms. Tears squeezed from her eyes. That’s exactly something her sister would do. And honestly, wasn’t that why Erica had sent the picture in the first place? It was time to shut the other man down, and she still wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do it on her own.
She pulled her phone back up, but another message came through before she could reply.
Should I send this one to your neighbor?
The text was accompanied by a picture of a box of extra-large condoms.
More laughter spilled out. She did love her sister.
She sent one last message, then purposely put her phone away.
No need. They wouldn’t get here soon enough.
Chapter Fourteen
The twangy fifties music wove its way through Erica’s body as she moved her hips to the bluesy beat. She skimmed the backs of her fingers up her torso, taking in the different textures she touched. The spandex of her workout bottoms, the bare skin of her belly, and the cotton of the cropped tee. She grazed her hands over the outer curves of her breasts, and a soft moan parted her lips.
Bringing her hands to the pole in front of her, she thrust her hips backward, her bottom rocking out before she circled around and pressed the length of her spine to the metal. She went into a squat, trailing her fingers up over her body again and letting herself enjoy every caress, until her hands reached high above her head. Her fingers closed around the pole, its coolness a balm to her overheated body, and she stretched like a cat midpurr. Power rolled through her that morning, and she couldn’t wait until Gabe figured out she wouldn’t be joining him on his porch.
The music changed, kicking into an even more sensuous groove, and she closed her eyes. She let her body sway, her hips grinding out a motion as old as time, and thought about the man who rarely left her mind these days.
She should have been on his porch by now.
She smiled to herself, sliding her palms back up the pole before grasping it tight and lifting her legs to one side. She curled one calf back while the other stretched out in front of her, and she let her body spin slowly in the air. She’d lain awake the night before, thinking about this morning. Anxious for five o’clock. Gabe had an away game last night, and Erica knew he’d come home alone. Jenna had been excited about staying overnight with her pops and gramma, and Erica had heard Gabe’s truck pull up before midnight. One door slammed. One set of footsteps walked in.
Bringing her feet back to the floor, she went into another bump out of her rear. She imagined a mirror hanging on the wall across from her where she could watch the movements of her body. Where she could watch two people making love.
Hands on thighs, face still to the imaginary mirror, she lowered back to a squat, her fingers scraping over her skin and her breaths picking up. She held her back straight, her breasts high, and she quickly opened and closed her thighs, as if offering a single peek into a secret world. Then she was up, eyes once again shut, and roaming her hands over herself. It was no longer about the tease of the dance, but about the needs of one woman. She needed Gabe’s hands to replace her own.
His fingers would be strong. Probably callused. She could imagine their coarseness roving over her the way his morning whiskers often scraped against her lips.
A moan slipped out. She wanted those fingers on her this morning.
With hands sweeping in slow circular motions out to her sides, she pulled in her shoulders and dipped forward with the music, going into a shimmy that she knew any man would appreciate. And when the knock finally came, she expelled a whisper of relief. Then she opened her eyes and found Gabe, not at her door, but watching through the blinds she’d left open at her window.
The door opened in front of Gabe, music slithering out to wrap around him, enticing him to step inside, but before he allowed himself that pleasure, he raked his gaze over Erica. She hadn’t allowed him to see this much of her yet. Either her body or her need, and he knew he was a fool for not already having her in his arms. But he wanted this moment. He wanted to savor it.
He dragged his eyes along her thighs, taking in their toned strength, then over her slim hips and the tiny shorts. Her T-shirt wasn’t much larger, and it seemed that everywhere he looked there was skin.
Being slightly shorter than average, she usually hit at his chin, but the black heels she wore that morning cut that distance by half.
He scanned over her one more time. He couldn’t remember making love with her wearing anything like this before, but he didn’t doubt for a second that’s what was about to happen. He’d known it before he’d stepped to her window.
He’d known it when she hadn’t come out her door.
“Nice pole,” he tossed out casually. He took a large step, putting him inside her apartment.
“Dancing with it was my sister’s idea.” She didn’t back away. “I told her it was too big.”
“I do remember her talking about showing you how to handle something big. I guess it wasn’t too big after all.”
The pink stains that appeared high on her cheeks had him teasing her with a hot smile, but when her eyes lowered to land directly on his rapidly bulging crotch, he was no longer the one smiling.
“She suggest the heels, too?” he scratched out. Damn, but he felt like he’d never done this before.
She shook her head. “I came up with some things on my own.”
He slammed the door behind him. “You didn’t show up at my place this morning.”
“I came up with that little gem, too.”
He chuckled. She was a riot. And hot as hell. He forced his breathing to slow. “So we’re doing this?
”
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“I’d have to be a fool not to want to, wouldn’t I?” And he could kill himself for the fool that he was. “Only”—he grimaced—“I don’t have a condom on me.”
Always carry a condom.
Hadn’t he learned that one simple rule years ago? Whether it went unused for a decade or not, always carry a damned condom. Because one day, you might just get lucky.
One day, you might have a half-naked woman standing in front of a pole.
“I can run to the store,” he offered. Jenna wasn’t home. He would run anywhere that would allow him to get his hands on Erica’s body. But he soon realized that a store was not a necessity.
Erica’s smile turned to pure devilry as her fingers dipped behind the waistband of her shorts. A second later, they came up with three little packets.
“I guess that’s that, then,” he murmured, his gaze glued to her hand.
“I guess that’s that.”
He closed the blinds then—with great patience—and without another word, he reached for Erica. Two seconds later, she was up against the pole with her T-shirt above her head.
“Gabe,” she whispered. Her body shook against his.
“Don’t dance in front of me with a pole, woman,” he growled out, “unless you want to be slammed up against it.” He shoved the T-shirt higher, and in one smooth move, had it twisted around his fist, imprisoning her wrists against the metal.
Heat burned in her eyes, and the hazel turned full-on green when he hoisted her up by her rear and put his mouth around one lace-covered nipple. It pebbled immediately, adding to the throbbing between his legs, and when her slim thighs clamped around his hips, he pushed forward, grinding in the manner he’d just stood on her porch and watched her do for him.
Her panties turned instantly wet. The heated moisture stroked him through his worn denim, and that was even before he used his teeth to rip the lace from her breast.
Erica sucked in air at the exposure, and her nipple reached for him.
“I remember those,” he grunted out. “Very well, in fact.” He stared down at her. She had the most perfect breasts. Just a little heavy on the bottom, nipples that were tight and hard but large enough to not get lost in his mouth, and tiny dark areolas that made him want to suck them fully between his teeth. He glanced up at her as he put his mouth back to her nipple, stopping his movements right before he touched her with his tongue.
“Who’s evil now?” she whispered.
“I am,” he said knowingly. “But I’m going to make up for it before I’m done.”
She groaned when he finally put lips to skin, and the way she writhed against him, he thought she might bring both of them to orgasm before he could get his fill of one breast.
When he tugged the lace on the other side out of the way, its fragility also not holding up under the pull of his teeth, her hips began to grind in harder circles. “Hold still,” he begged. He pushed harder against her, hoping to pin her in place, as he tried to focus only on her breasts. But his attempts to still her only made her movements grow more out of control.
“We’ve got three condoms,” she breathed out. “Please. I’m begging. Let me down so we can both get naked, and then I swear to you that we can take our time with the other two.”
He stopped and looked up at her. She had a very excellent point. So he released her wrists and lowered her to the ground, and within thirty seconds there were no clothes left between them and her fingers were shaking as she tried desperately to roll the prophylactic over his length.
He pushed her hands out of the way. “You’re only making it worse.”
Within seconds he had himself sheathed, and Erica practically leaped back into his arms. With her elbows locked at the back of his neck and his fingers dug into the cheeks of her rear, he finally gave them what both of them needed. He buried himself deep, rocking her against the pole, then pulled out and repeated the move.
She was so hot.
And so wet.
“I’m going to come now,” she said, barely getting the words out before her body began to tense in his arms. Her insides clenched around him as she bowed back, and as her breasts angled high, he brought one hand up to run across her skin.
He held her as she broke apart, willing himself to wait, to let her get this first pass out of the way, and the second he sensed her body going into the slightest limp, he cupped his hand around one breast and sucked her deep between his lips. He rocked into her, realigning her with the pole to keep her in place. He alternated the sucking and the rocking, but at the same time making each move slightly harder than the one before it, and within seconds, he wasn’t the only one ready to blow. He brought her right back to that point again, too.
“Gabe,” she groaned. Her hands gripped at his shoulders as she once again bowed tight. She held onto him while he continued to pump, and he held back for only a few seconds more. He wanted to draw her pleasure out as long as he possibly could, but he had little time left in him.
Finally, he buried his face in her neck. He roared with need as his body found its own release. He filled her, letting her heat and her wetness soak him dry, and when he couldn’t hold himself up under his own weight any longer, he pinned her to the pole.
This, he thought.
He lifted his head and gently took her mouth before she could catch her breath. Her lips clung to his as he cherished her, seeming to need the quiet moment as much as him, and when he finally inched away, he whispered against her, “This.”
Chapter Fifteen
Well, that answers the other question.”
“What question is that?” Erica spoke while trying to catch her breath. She was naked and sweaty, her thighs straddling Gabe’s body, and her cheek plastered to the damp hairs sprinkled across his chest. They’d started against the pole, had then moved to the kitchen countertop, she’d spent some time on the dining room table, and finally, they’d wrapped it up when she’d pushed him to her couch and ridden him to the finish line.
He nuzzled the top of her head. “That kissing isn’t the only thing we’re still good at.”
She laughed and pushed up off his chest. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“Baby.” The curve of his smile matched her own. “Good doesn’t begin to cover what just happened here. And I’m not saying that just because it’s been a hell of a long time for me.”
He dropped his head back against the cushion, his eyes closed in satisfaction, and Erica took the moment to study him in the early morning light. Dark hair, toned body, and a reserved, mysterious air about him that would attract most any female who looked his way. His sculpted cheekbones and wide lips spoke of his unmistakable strength. But in that moment, with his hands lightly cupping the sides of her hips and the words he’d spoken hanging between them, she saw a different side of him. One slightly more vulnerable.
“It’s been a while for you?” she asked softly.
He eyed her from under half-closed lids. “Who do you think I’ve been with? There’s not a lot of opportunities with a kid around.”
“But doesn’t she spend the night with Max and Gloria on occasion? As well as Haley or Leslie?”
“Sure, but honestly”—he shrugged—“I haven’t been that interested. Not that I don’t love sex, God forbid, but I guess my mind has been on other things.”
“Like worrying about your daughter.”
“Exactly.”
One of his hands slid over the muscles of her thigh, and his thumb began drawing out tiny circles as he seemed to disappear inside his own head. His torso glistened, same as hers, and they had yet to dispose of the last of the protection. But none of that seemed to matter.
When he finally returned to the moment, she said, “How long were you married?”
“Ah.” His thumb quit moving. “We’re going to talk about her now?”
“I’d like to. If you don’t mind.”
He thought about the request l
onger than Erica had expected. “I don’t know. Nine years, maybe? The last few ran together.”
“And why did you go to California?” She held her breath with that one. The last time she’d asked, he hadn’t answered. Yet for some reason, she sensed that he was more willing to share today.
“Because she was going to divorce me if I didn’t,” he stated simply. “Funny, huh? I moved to save our marriage, yet I’m the one who ended up filing?” He blew out a breath. “It was a last-ditch effort, anyway. We’d been having trouble for years. She wasn’t . . .” He let his words trail off for a moment while a look of utter disgust passed over his face. He swallowed, and his fingers tightened slightly on her thigh. “She was neither a good mother nor a good wife. I knew this at that point. Hell, I’d known it for years. But she was Jenna’s mother. And I guess I was . . . weak.”
“Weak?” She’d never think of Gabe Wilde as a weak man.
He only nodded at that, and she remembered something Dani had told her at the cookout. “Your sister implied that neither of your parents had been the best example.”
His free hand landed on one of the heels she still wore on her feet, and he frowned. “My sister needs to keep her mouth shut.”
“And then you suggested to me that your mother wasn’t the best.”
He eyed her again. She could see him willing her to stop.
“Your dad, too?” she pushed. Was she onto something? Were there things about Gabe’s upbringing that made him feel not good enough?
Weak?
She and he might have dated for two years in the past, but it had occurred to her only recently that, in all those months, Gabe had shared very little about his childhood. Just the basics.
“I always liked Max,” she said when he remained silent. “I thought he loved you guys. That you were a happy family.”
