Triple Time

by Regina Kyle

  “Who was that?”

  “Friend of a friend.”

  “On the inside?” She eyed the building as if it was Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and she was Charlie Bucket.

  He chuckled. “You make it sound like we’re going to raid the joint.”

  “Aren’t we?” She braced one palm against the side of the building, lifted her foot and took off her shoe. “There’s a blank wall over my couch just screaming for an original Renoir.”

  “Don’t you mean over your bed?”

  “Same diff.” She tipped her shoe upside down and shook it. A rock about the size of a pea clattered to the concrete walkway. “Damn. No wonder I could barely walk.”

  “I thought that was because of the five-inch daggers sticking out of the soles.” His balls tightened as she rubbed her foot and let out a low moan, and he had to bite back an answering groan, reminding himself yet again that, no matter how goddamned much he wanted her, he wasn’t going to have her. Not until he could convince her this thing between them went way beyond sex. “I don’t know how women wear those things. Or why.”

  “Don’t you?” She slipped her shoe back on. “They call them fuck-me pumps for a reason.”

  Damn. He swallowed hard. Looked as if his resolve was going to get one hell of a workout tonight.

  The door creaked open—hallelujah—and Ed stood smiling, a shock of snowy hair flopping over one eyebrow.

  “Hello, there. I see you found your girl.” He appraised Devin in a way that somehow managed to be appreciative without crossing into disrespectful. “Definitely worth waiting for.”

  “Devin.” She stuck out her hand.

  “Ed. Pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and kissed it, then let it fall. “We’d better get moving. It’ll take you a couple of hours to see the whole exhibit.”

  “Exhibit?” She studied him suspiciously.

  “The Matisse exhibit.” Ed stepped back to let them in.

  Devin hesitated at the threshold, Gabe right behind her. “But it’s not open yet.”

  “Not to the general public.” Ed waved them in. “Follow me.”

  Devin turned to Gabe, her expression surprised and confused. “How?”

  Gabe’s chest puffed up. He’d put that look there. Flapped the unflappable Devin Padilla. With a hand on her back, he guided her inside. “A magician never tells his secrets.”

  “Then...why?”

  “Now that I can answer.” His hand drifted up to her shoulder. “Because you love art. Because you work two jobs and spend your spare time reading to needy kids, and it’s time someone did something for you for a change.”

  She stumbled, and Gabe could have sworn she blinked back a tear as he steadied her so she could regain her footing. They reached the entrance to the exhibit, and Ed unhooked a velvet rope. “It’s all yours, kids. Enjoy. I’ll be back to close up in a couple of hours.”

  They wandered through the exhibit, taking in paintings and paper cut-outs, still life and anatomically correct nudes. All in wild, expressive, often dissonant colors. Devin was alternatively talkative and taciturn, sometimes explaining the artist’s work in enthusiastic detail, at other times a still, silent, serious observer.

  When they stepped into the last gallery, she stopped short. “What’s this?”

  “A little refreshment.” He crossed to the center of the room, where a red-and-white checkered blanket was spread out on the floor. On it sat a picnic basket, two wine glasses, a bottle chilling in a stainless steel bucket and a crystal vase filled with fresh-cut flowers.

  Noelle had outdone herself this time. He really did owe her.

  Gabe sat and motioned for Devin to join him. “I don’t know about you, but appreciating fine art always makes me hungry.”

  For what, he didn’t say.

  She stood, gaping at him. “Are you for real?”

  “As real as it gets.” He patted the blanket next to him.

  “Seriously. You’re not like any guy I’ve ever known.”

  “Exactly.” He opened the basket and started pulling stuff out. Crackers. Brie. Assorted fruit. Some kind of dip and pita chips.

  Devin took a few tentative steps toward him and lowered herself to the blanket. “Seeing as you went through so much trouble, I guess we shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

  Gabe flinched, her words like a punch to his solar plexus. She’d screw him in a heartbeat, no questions asked. But breaking bread with him? That was another story.

  A story he was determined to rewrite.

  “Strawberry?” He peeled the lid off a plastic container, plucked out a berry and held it out to her.

  “Thanks.” She bit into it, her lips brushing his fingers for a second until she pulled back, closing her eyes as she chewed. “Mmm.”

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  She shook her head and her lashes fluttered open. A rivulet of juice ran down her chin and he fisted the blanket, resisting the urge to lick the sweet syrup off. “No one’s ever fed me before.”

  “No one’s ever done a lot of things for you. But I’d like to change that. If you’ll let me.” He wiped the droplet away with his forefinger, slid it between his lips and sucked it clean. “Delicious.”

  “You don’t have to work this hard, you know. I’m a safe bet. It’s pretty much a given I’ll sleep with you.” She took another strawberry and popped it into her mouth.

  “I told you, I’m not interested in sex.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Not just sex.”

  “I was hoping you changed your mind.”

  “No such luck.”

  Without warning, she straddled his lap, knocking over the fruit and crushing the box of crackers with her knee. “Then I guess I’ll have to change it for you.”

  * * *

  DEVIN FRAMED GABE’S face with her hands, his five-o’clock shadow scraping seductively against her palms.

  “How’s this?” She ground into him, his growing erection pressing into her core. “Changed your mind yet?”

  Gabe clamped his hands on her hips, freezing her. “You’re doing it again.”

  “Doing what?” She ran her hands down his chest, loving how his muscles bunched and flexed under the soft cotton of his button-down shirt.

  “Using sex to distract me.”

  “Is it working?” She nudged his collar aside with her nose and pressed her lips to the hollow where his neck met his shoulder. Her tongue darted out for a taste. Clean. Salty. Male.

  “There’s nothing I’d like more than to bury myself inside you,” he growled.

  “What’s stopping you?” she murmured against his neck. Her tongue stole out for another sample.

  “You.” He leaned back on his elbows. “What are you so afraid of?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not.”

  “You are.” His slate-gray eyes bored into her, and for a second she felt like one of his defendants on the witness stand. “You’re afraid to trust me.”

  She met his gaze head on. “My track record in the trust department is piss poor.”

  His eyes softened and the hint of a smile played around the corners of his mouth. “I’m not like any of the other guys you’ve dated. You said so yourself.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shakily. “That’s not fair.”

  “What?” He brushed her hair back and his hand lingered on her cheek, one finger tracing the shell of her ear.

  “Doing...that. And using my own words against me.”

  He laughed, low and sexy. “All’s fair in love and war.”

  “Which is this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Both.”

  The hand on her cheek slid to the back of her head and he drew her in closer, until his lips barely brushed hers. He nibbled her bottom lip then licked it, tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She wound her arms around his neck, trying to hold him tighter to her, force him to deepen this kiss. But he held back, his
lips teasing, taunting, refusing to give her more than a hint of what was in store if she gave in to him.

  Damn. She might be on top, but he was in control. Again.

  “Ready to say uncle?” he asked when he came up for air, his mouth still mere inches from hers.

  “What if I am?”

  “Then we can take this back to my place, out of range of any security cameras.” He gave her another quick kiss, laced with promise. “Have a little faith in me, Devin. In us.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Yes, you do.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed him in. “You can’t promise that. No one can.”

  “I can promise I won’t deliberately hurt you.” He raised his head to pierce her again with those stormy eyes. “And if I hurt you unintentionally, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right.”

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  “I’m serious, Gabe.” She rolled off him and sat on the blanket next to him, putting a good six inches between them. She couldn’t think straight when he touched her like that, and thinking straight was an absolute necessity where Gabe was concerned. “I’m a train wreck. I like my skirts too short, my music too loud, my cars too fast. You could have your pick of women with more class in their raised pinkie fingers than I have in my whole body. Women who’ll fit in with your crowd, who’ll be a political asset instead of a liability.”

  “Been there, done that. I don’t want a running mate. I want a partner. Someone who makes me a better man. And that’s you. You’ve taught me how to stop and smell the pretzels. Helped me become more laid-back. Less stressed. Less—dare I say—boring.” He took her hand and turned it over, drawing lazy circles in her palm with his thumb. “Don’t desert me now, just when things are getting interesting.”

  “They are?” The words escaped on a thin breath. Christ, she sounded like a porn star. Or a phone-sex operator.

  “Oh, yeah.” He brought her palm to his mouth for a kiss.

  She shuddered and tried to pull her hand away, but he held fast.

  That was the thing about Gabe, she realized, as his thumb went back to work on her palm. He held on to what was important to him with an iron grip. His job. His family.

  Her.

  Steady. That was the word she’d used to describe him on their walk home from Naboombu. He wasn’t a man who would abandon her like her father had. Or neglect her like her mother. He was a man who cherished the people he cared about. And for some unfathomable reason, he cared about her. She’d be an idiot to turn her back on that.

  And like Leo always said, she might be terca como una mula—as stubborn as a mule—but she was no pendeja—dumbass.

  “Okay,” she whispered after what seemed like an eternity. “Uncle.”

  “So you trust me?” He twined his fingers with hers and squeezed.

  “Yes.” She squeezed back.

  He shifted his weight so they were touching from shoulder to fingertip. His breath tickled her ear. “And you admit this isn’t just physical? That there’s something special between us?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head, bringing his mouth in contact with the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. “Now can we get out of here?”

  She was practically begging. Not that she cared. She had a few “special” ideas of her own for the rest of their evening, most of which would get them arrested if they tried them at the Met.

  “What’s wrong?” His lips vibrated against her neck. “You didn’t like your private tour?”

  “I loved it. It was perfect. But now I want something more private. You know.” With her free hand, she reached across and fingered his belt buckle. “So we can concentrate on all that physical stuff you keep talking about.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He stood, pulling her up with him.

  “What about all this?” She gestured toward the remains of their aborted picnic.

  “My sister will take care of it. She helped me set everything up.”

  “Holly?” Devin jerked away from him. “I thought she was still in Istanbul.”

  “She is. I meant Noelle.” Gabe tipped his head to study her. “Would it bother you if Holly knew about us?”

  Devin bit her lip, her brows knotted in thought. Holly might not like the idea of her best friend and her baby brother getting it on. But she wasn’t the kind of person who’d judge them for it. “I guess not. As long as it doesn’t bother you.”

  “Not one damn bit. We’re both consenting adults. Right?” He snaked a hand around her waist, tugging her back to him.

  “Right.” She relaxed against his side.

  They walked toward the exit, a shit-eating grin splitting Gabe’s handsome face. “So let’s get to the consenting part and worry about how my big sister’s going to react later.”

  Outside the building, Gabe whistled for a cab and pulled out his phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I’m texting Ed and Noelle to let them know we’re done here.”

  A taxi screeched up to the curb. Gabe opened the door, ushered her in and gave the cabbie his address.

  “Wait.” Devin addressed the driver then turned to Gabe, an idea percolating. She had a way to prove she was serious about trusting him, that as much as she wanted to get him alone where he could screw her in every yoga position imaginable without the threat of jail time, she was willing to open up. At least a little bit. There were parts of her life she’d never shared with anyone else. “Let’s go to my place.”

  “Your place?” Gabe pulled the cab door shut behind him. “I thought you wanted to try out my not-quite-California king? We won’t have to fold it up in the morning.”

  “I do. Some other time.” She scooted next to him, ducking under his arm and surrounding herself with his strength, his heat. “Tonight there’s something I want to show you.”

  His eyes sparked with desire. “Everything I want to see is right in front of me.”

  “You will, believe me. But this is something else. Something in my apartment.” She rested her head on his chest. The even rhythm of his heartbeat calmed her, preparing her for the giant leap she was about to take. “My paintings.”

  “Where to, folks?” the cab driver barked. “I haven’t got all night.”

  “You heard the lady.” Gabe’s arm tightened around Devin, drawing her impossibly closer to his side. “Her place.”

  11

  “WHAT DO YOU want to see first?” Devin asked the minute the door closed behind them. “Me or my art?”

  She was already breathing heavy—hopefully in anticipation of a night of hot, steamy sex and not with exhaustion from their dash up the stairs to her fifth-floor walk-up. Gabe’s gaze fell to the shadowy area between her breasts as they rose and fell under the scooped neckline of her dress. “I’d like to be noble enough to say I’m more interested in your artwork than your body. But I’m not sure I can wait that long to touch you.”

  “That’s okay.” She pushed him against the door and worked one leg between his, rubbing against him and creating a delicious pressure in his khakis. “I’m not sure I can, either.”

  “Thank God.”

  He spun her around so their positions were reversed, her back to the door, his thigh wedged between hers, her full breasts crushed against his torso.

  “No fair. I wanted to—”

  He cut her off, covering her mouth with his. She made a little mewling sound that hit him deep in his chest and sent ripples of excitement down to his groin. Her lips parted, inviting him to delve deeper, an invitation he didn’t hesitate to accept. His tongue swept her mouth from corner to corner before diving in and exploring. His hands roamed over her shoulders, past her waist and down the curve of her lower back, finally settling on the firm globes of her ass.

  “Damn.” Ever the fucking gentleman, he broke off the kiss before he lost all self-control. “I wanted to go slow.
Seduce you.”

  “Seduce me later.” She hooked one leg around his hip and rocked against him. “Fuck me now.”

  With a groan, he picked her up and carried her to the already folded-out bed. She hitched up her other leg and locked her ankles together behind his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Lazy?” He stopped at the foot of the bed, one side of his mouth twitching upward into a bemused smile. “Or optimistic?”

  She tunneled her hands through his hair. “You’re not the only one who knows the Boy Scout motto.”

  “So you’re always prepared.” His smile spread and he squeezed her glorious ass. “Are you prepared for this?”

  He dropped her onto the bed with a gentle bounce and followed her down, draping his body over hers.

  “I’d be more prepared if I was naked.” She kicked off her shoes, sending them skidding across the floorboards.

  “That can be arranged.” He propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the hem of her dress with his free hand, inching it upward.

  “You, too.” She undid one of his shirt buttons.

  “Naturally.”

  They stripped each other quickly, ripping their clothes off without fanfare.

  “It’s like opening a present,” he said, looking down at her. “And it’s not even Christmas.”

  “I’ll bet you tore off the wrapping then, too.”

  “Nope. I was the kid who folded the paper and saved it to reuse.” He traced his fingertips along her collarbone and she rewarded him with a shiver.

  Her eyes darted to her leopard thong, in shreds on the floor. “I won’t be reusing that any time soon.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” His lips followed the trail blazed by his fingers. “More than one.”

  She smoothed a hand down his chest to his abs, coming to rest just below his belly button, within tantalizing reach of his still hardening cock. “Or I could just stop wearing underwear altogether. Save you the trouble of destroying them.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, I assure you.”

  His mouth claimed hers, letting her know in no uncertain terms that, while he enjoyed witty sex banter as much as the next guy, the time for talking was past. He moved over her and she arched to meet him, twining one slim, strong leg around his and tugging him close.