Just the Thing

by Marie Harte

  They met, naked, body to body, and he groaned at the silky feel of her against him. So soft, pliant, yet firm as she yanked him closer and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. Not sure who made the first move, they ended up on the rug. He kissed her, palmed her breasts, and nudged a leg between hers, needing to be inside her in the worst way.

  His desire skyrocketed when she moaned and grabbed him back, her soft panting and mewling cries like pinpricks of arousal stabbing him everywhere.

  Sanity tried to rear its head—to slow down, make sense of it all, be smart. But there was no reasoning once she wrapped her ankles around his waist and nudged his cock between her folds.

  He kissed his way to her ear, biting her lobe with insistence. “So hot. You feel so fucking good.”

  She gasped and rocked against him, causing the head of his shaft to slide inside her.

  “Zoe?” he managed, pulling back to stare into her eyes.

  “On the pill,” she confessed and dragged him back for a kiss, digging her heels into his ass in encouragement.

  Gavin thrust the rest of the way inside her. “Oh fuck.” He pulled out only to surge back in, faster, harder. No patience left.

  “Yeah,” she whispered and clasped him tighter, tugging at his shoulders as he rammed in and out, no finesse, just raw need.

  It didn’t take long before she cried out and seized around him, her body so hot and slick she sucked him into an orgasm without thinking.

  He shuddered as he came, emptying inside her until he could no longer maintain the carnal frenzy. She squeezed him again with her body, and he swore and jerked, finding something left inside him after all.

  They lay in each other’s arms, breathing hard, sweaty and joined. All the way, body to body.

  Without a condom.

  Gavin paused, not used to feeling like an imbecile while sober. Hell, even drunk he’d always known to wear a rubber. But two seconds inside Zoe and he’d come, and come hard.

  “I guess it’s kind of late to ask about the safe-sex question,” Zoe said, drowsy, content, as she stroked his arms.

  He raised himself on his hands, still locked inside her, making no attempt to pull from her heat. Staring at her, he lost himself in her beauty. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He loved that she blushed. “And yeah, too late for the safe-sex quiz. Though it’s your fault. Once you said you were on the pill, my brain totally shut off.” He groaned and started moving in her once more, now taking the time to appreciate her full breasts and tight abs. Those silky thighs and that rockin’ ass.

  His cock had softened, but not totally. The more he studied her, the more he wanted another round. He’d been waiting for this moment too long for it to be over so soon.

  Gavin leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, then teething the taut nub. “I’ve been with a few women since I came back,” he admitted. “But I’ve always used protection. I’m clean. That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about.”

  She uttered a sexy groan. “Oh, me too. Safe, I mean. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

  “Yeah? How long’s a while?”

  “Not counting you or that dry humping in the gym…”

  “Zoe.” Did she have to bring that up?

  She chuckled. “Sadly, it’s been seven or eight months, I think.”

  “Whoa.” He swallowed the No wonder you were so hot for me. Especially because he’d been even hotter for her, and he’d been with Megan a month ago, a fact he now very much regretted. “So you’re discerning.”

  “Good word for it.” She pulled him down for another kiss, surprising him. Zoe reveled in her sensuality. He’d have assumed she’d jump up from the floor, race away with a horrified look on her face, and deem tonight an utter disaster and mistake. Instead, she seemed to be encouraging him for round two.

  He leaned down into her again, but this time playing with her breasts, enthralled with her contrasts of softness and muscle. “I love your body.”

  “Yeah? Well, I love yours too. Would help if you moved a little faster though. No one-night stands for us.”

  “Oh?”

  “Keep going past midnight, and that’ll definitely make it a two-nighter.”

  “Or we both come again, take a short nap, then go at it again tomorrow. Maybe Monday, and again into next week,” he offered, praying she’d take him up on it. No way in hell he’d be done with her after one night.

  She stopped stroking his shoulders, and he tensed, thickening inside her.

  This, right now, was a turning point.

  “So you want to keep hanging out and having sex?”

  “Or, as your people call it, dating?”

  “My people?”

  “Yeah, womankind. Because my people are crude.” He shifted a bit, wondering if she’d notice, but he had to. God, she was so tight around him. “Dudes would be calling it all sorts of insulting things.”

  “Like?”

  He slid slowly out, then pushed back in. She bit her lip. He moaned and said hoarsely, “Like banging and balling. Riding the sweet shoot. Dining and dashing.”

  “Wait. I know that one.” She gasped when he angled deeper inside her. “That’s about eating and taking off.”

  He smiled.

  She blushed. “Oh. We haven’t gotten to that yet.”

  “The night’s still young.”

  She stared up at him, searching. Then she pulled his head close and whispered in his ear, “Then what are you waiting for?” She stuck her tongue in his ear. An erogenous zone she’d homed in on with ease.

  He slammed back home. This time he didn’t stop until after she’d cried out his name. In five long, howling syllables. Then, and only then, did he leave a little bit of himself behind.

  Unfortunately, he had a bad feeling he’d left more than a physical piece of himself. He’d left an emotional one as well.

  Chapter 8

  Late Sunday afternoon, Zoe felt odd about having Gavin over. Sure, they’d had a lot of sex Saturday night into the wee hours of the morning. And again after waking up—which had worried her. She’d done her best to think sexy thoughts, hoping her morning breath didn’t scare him away for good. So caught up in what he’d done to her, she hadn’t worried about it a moment more until after they’d finished. And by then she hadn’t cared.

  Life had been one exhausting bag of loveliness. Until Piper had seen her walk of shame from the driveway to the house. And man, had her aunt made her pay. Lots of I told you so’s and laughter at her expense. Still too sated to care, Zoe had only laughed with her.

  After waiting on Zoe’s quick shower and then sharing brunch downtown, Piper had left. Zoe had turned to her weekly chores with little enthusiasm, haphazardly cleaning her already clean house while she thought about Gavin.

  Who would be joining her later this evening for more sex.

  Should she insist on conversation as well? Zoe didn’t know. She hadn’t been so well pleasured in, well, forever. Okay, so they’d gone Mach 10 to orgasm that first time. But then they’d slowed way down. And this morning, he’d had her begging him to take her, going so far as to use the f-word and a few other four-letter ones too, insane to have him inside her.

  “Go, me.” She grinned as she straightened up. Talk about the right person to break her dry spell. Gavin not only looked like Prince Charming, but he acted like a perfect gentleman. He took charge in bed, just the way she liked.

  She got goose bumps remembering how he’d held her hands over her head while he slid in and out of her with way too much patience…

  She shivered and finished throwing the laundry in the dryer. Then she gave a full-body sigh. Time to stop thinking about sex and focus on the day-to-day. Monday crept all too near.

  More gardening, a quick salad for dinner. Which she might as well not have made, for all that her appetite had
deserted her.

  That damn Gavin Donnigan. What a dreamboat and pain in the ass all in one. He was her own personal Two-Face, but much more handsome than the Gotham archvillain.

  Aubrey totally would have loved him. Gavin had a lot of her qualities. He was fun-loving, humorous, laid-back. But that distance when he’d mentioned his time in the Marine Corps. Zoe found that part of him fascinating. Like her, he tried to control his grief. Whatever he’d been through, it had seriously bothered him. So as much as she’d wanted to pry, she hadn’t. Oddly though, she felt like they shared grief in common.

  What a wacky thing to be glad about—a similarity in experiencing sorrow.

  A glance at the picture of her and Aubrey, arm in arm and smiling, brought forth memories.

  Teasing, the He’s your boyfriend game, spiking each other’s eggnog at Christmas while teens and trying not to get caught. So many wonderful things they were going to experience. But Aubrey would never walk down an aisle in a funky, fashionable, nontraditional gown. She’d never hold the baby she’d planned to name Zoey “with a y.” And she’d never grow old with Zoe, sharing the rest of their lives together, the high and lows, the firsts and lasts.

  God, that hurt so much. To lose that zest and joy in life Aubrey had possessed in abundance.

  The guilt that she remained alive while Aubrey lay dead returned. If one of them should have had to go, it should have been Zoe. The too-serious twin. The hard-ass who didn’t know how to laugh at life, too busy making plans to cover even her eventual death.

  Hell, she’d been the one to make her family plan for the future. She’d been the one who’d invested in a plot where the family could lie in rest together. And here she stood, staring at a picture of the funnier, more-adventurous twin while Aubrey entertained the world no longer.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “God, Aubrey. I miss you. You should be here with Gavin. Not me.”

  Even as she said it, she knew she was being overly dramatic and ridiculous. Aubrey would kick her ass for thinking like that. Life was for living, not planning for an early grave, she’d liked to say.

  “Guess I showed you,” Zoe said through a watery laugh.

  Determined to stop being such a wuss, she turned to more pragmatic thoughts, the kind that might help her adjust to the here and now. So she put away her grief and numbed her mind with next week’s schedule. After running through her work calendar and figuring in a girls’ night with Cleo, where they could talk about everything over wine—yet another thing she could no longer do with Aubrey—Zoe’s thoughts once again turned to Gavin.

  When she saw him at the gym later in the week—because no way in hell would she stop going just because they’d played the old slap-and-tickle—should she pretend not to know him? Or would they be adults about the relationship and acknowledge each other? Should she high-five Megan, Michelle, and the others because she’d joined their not-so-elite club?

  The petty thought both ashamed and amused her.

  “Gavin’s casual one-night stands on the left and two-nighters on the right.” She wondered about his prior relationships. From what she’d overheard a time or two in the steam room, his lady friends had enjoyed a casual time, but not much else. Michelle and Megan had crassly compared notes. Neither had been thrilled that he hadn’t come back for a second “date.” But they’d been hot to point out how well-endowed and talented he was in the sack, even if he hadn’t stuck around to talk afterward.

  They had that part right, at least. But no way had she been treated to any kind of dine and dash. She smirked at the thought.

  She had a right to know about his sexual past and planned to ask him about it. He liked her honesty. Well, she’d see how much.

  Two hours later, when he rang her bell at eight on the dot, she let him in. And just stared. “Er, you dressed up for me?”

  He grinned. “You like? It’s a Mac special.”

  The red Jameson’s Gym T-shirt threatened to burn her retinas. “Could that shirt be any tighter?” Or the dark shorts, which hugged him in all the right places?

  “I don’t know. But I can’t feel my left arm anymore.”

  She sighed. “You actually do look like a stop sign in that.”

  “I know.” He shrugged. “What can I do?” He jerked his arm, hard, and she heard a rip. “Oh no. It ripped! Witness.” He pointed to her. “I did nothing to cause this, just tried to hug my new girlfriend.”

  Her heart raced. Girlfriend? They had labels now? Best to keep it casual and not act like she cared what they called each other. Though she did. But how did she feel about that? She’d figure it out later, after he’d gone.

  “Is that so? Looked to me like you moved really fast and in a jerky motion. Damaging work property, not to mention flouting his authority by not wearing the uniform when everyone else is. Are you at all worried Mac could fire you?”

  He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “Good point.” Hell, even she knew that the recent gym crowd came for the Donnigans and their self-defense class.

  “I work for peanuts. He’s lucky to have me.”

  “Then why stay?”

  He pulled off his shirt, leaving him in thigh-hugging nylon shorts that left little to the imagination. “Because I love the gym. And if I can work and have fun, right now, that’s good enough for me.” He nodded. “I mean, at some point I’ll want to do something else with my life. But I’m taking it slowly. One day at a time.”

  She nodded absently, unable to look away from all those muscles. It was like a biological map. Zoe could see the lines of his ab muscles begging to be traced with a marker. Or her tongue. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s with the tight gym clothes? Are we going to work out or something?”

  He chuckled. “You, sexy, give new meaning to the term workout.” He moved closer, drawing her against his incredible body for a kiss. “I should be too worn out to even wonder about sex with you tonight. But it’s all I’ve been thinking about since you left this morning.”

  She flushed. “I hope your sister was okay with us staying over.”

  “She doesn’t need to know. Besides. You’ve made that garden shine.”

  “Speaking of which, how’s Leon?”

  “Just fine, surrounded by all the ladies.” He smiled and kissed her again, this time slipping her more tongue. “Hmm. You taste delicious.”

  “Like a big old apple, I’ll bet.” Since she’d just polished off a Honeycrisp in an effort to have some sustenance before she worked it off in bed.

  “Nah. Like an appetizer before I get to the main course. I’m going to go slow tonight. Not like yesterday.”

  Her heart raced. “You mean this morning, and you were pretty damn slow then.”

  “Did I tire you out?” He smirked. “Hard to keep up with me, huh, baby?”

  “Oh right. The pet names.” She loved him calling her baby. And it was so macho and sexist. She hated herself a little for enjoying it. “Now that we’re going steady and all”—she looked down her nose at him—“is this where I call you sugar lumps? You know, in case I forget your name in the middle of sex?”

  He looked at her in awe.

  “What?” she snapped, still turned on despite herself.

  “See? That meanness? Gets me so fuckin’ hard.” He took her hand and drew it between his legs. “You do this for me…baby.”

  She gripped him, not surprised to feel him so large. But she hadn’t taken a good look the other night, having been too keen on riding him to orgasm, or letting him ride her. “Strip. I want to see what I’m getting.” So much for that conversation they might have.

  “Yeah? Feeling me deep in you when I came wasn’t enough?”

  She wanted to be a little more worldly, but she blushed.

  He grinned. “You’re so cute when you turn red.”

  “Shut up
and get naked, would you?”

  “Guess we’re skipping right over the foreplay tonight, hmm? I’m game.” He had no problem stripping down. And why would he? With a body like that, he had nothing to be ashamed of. But in this light, she saw many of the scars she’d felt last night.

  He followed her gaze. “Ah. Those are nothing. A few bullet wounds. A knife fight over there. And the one higher on my collarbone? That’s my brother shoving me on a bike with no brakes down a major hill. I crashed well though.”

  He glossed over the military scars easily enough, so she took his lead. “Which brother?”

  “Really? It’s the job of the bigger brother to lead the younger one down the wrong path. This scar is all Landon. Bullied by my big brother and disfigured for life.”

  “So sad.” She wiped an imaginary tear, saw him grinning, and noticed his cock had yet to go down.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said, his voice growing deeper. “Now how about I let you in on some more deep-seated trauma?”

  “Do tell.”

  “I’ve got these hidden fantasies, and they keep me up at night.”

  She eyed his pride and joy. “I can tell.”

  “It’s this woman. I can’t see her face, exactly, but I can see her pink yoga pants.”

  “Oh really? Wait. Don’t tell me. I’m having a vision.” She put a hand to her forehead, then glanced at him. “Is this the fantasy where you bend me over the couch?”

  He licked his lips and eyed her up and down. “Ah, no, not this one.”

  “I know. This is the one where we roll around in the gym, where there are glass windows where anyone can see inside. Then you have me straddling you, and you pull down your shorts just enough so your cock pops out.”

  “Damn, girl.” He gripped himself.

  “And we move my shorts to the side—I’m not wearing any panties—so I can slide over you. Is that the one?”

  He stared at her crotch.