Page 11

His Unlikely Lover Page 11

by Natasha Anders


“Patience, my sweet,” he whispered against her mouth. “This is going to be so good. More than merely good . . . It’s going to be exquisite.” He’d completely removed her panties by now and had tossed them over his shoulder, uncaring of where they landed. He scrutinized her naked flesh raptly. A gentle hand found its way to her abdomen and down . . . to where the softest sprinkling of curls lay in wait of his touch. His long, blunt fingers entangled in the grasping curls and then moved down even farther, to where there were no curls and only a warm moistness that ached for his touch.

Bobbi cried out when his fingers found her sensitive clit and she went unbearably tense when he stroked her there. God, it was divine. She sobbed and tried to dislodge the tormenting touch.

“No, Gabe. It’s too much . . . ,” she pleaded, but he ignored her and that same finger slipped deftly inside of her.

“Oh Christ.” Gabe was groaning too now and his chest was heaving uncontrollably as he fought to breathe. “You’re so hot and tight, sweetheart.”

Bobbi’s hands were doing some exploring of their own; she was learning his hard curves and angles and kissing every inch of flesh accessible to her. She pushed impatiently at his briefs—needing to have him completely naked and open to her touch. Understanding what she wanted, he pushed the briefs down his hips and kicked them off.

Bobbi’s eyes widened in awed disbelief at the sight of him. The last time she had seen Gabe in the buff had been on a skinny-dipping adventure when he was ten and she five and he had certainly grown a lot since then. The childhood memory reminded her of exactly whom it was she found herself naked with and she flushed unexpectedly, going crimson with sudden embarrassment. She may have wanted him for years but this was still Gabe and she was seeing him naked. What should have felt awkward felt comfortable and right and the embarrassment was fleeting.

Her eyes were focused on his erect penis and she shook her head in amazement. Yes, this was Gabe, and God, he was gorgeous.

“Oh Gabe,” she breathed in awe, and he grinned, understanding and appreciating her tone.

“Oh Bobbi,” he mimicked in the exact same tone of voice. His hand fumbled around on the floor beside the sofa before finding his discarded trousers and removing a condom from one of the pockets.

“You’re ready, right?” he asked, his voice tight with barely restrained urgency, and she smiled.

“You have no idea how ready I am,” she assured him, and he grinned in relief, before tearing the packet with his teeth. He efficiently donned the condom, the back of his hand brushing against her as he did so, and she bit back another cry at her almost unbearable sensitivity down there.

Without any hesitation at all, Gabe kissed her deeply and entered her with one long, sure thrust. Bobbi stiffened but when there was no further discomfort, she relaxed and began to follow his lead.

After that initial fast and economical thrust, Gabe began to move almost leisurely. He was hunched over her slender form and moaned whenever she lifted her hips to meet his gentle strokes. His tongue parodied the lazy movements of his body and Bobbi found herself rocking slowly to the edge of an insidiously looming pit. Her fingers dug into his back and both of them were soon sobbing each other’s names. Their pace quickened abruptly and they soon began to fly out of control. They were melded together in more ways than the most basic, their chests were glued together, their lips were locked, and their arms and legs were inextricably entangled.

“Gabe,” Bobbi whispered his name on a note of pleasure so intense, it almost resembled pain. It took her breath away and she shuddered quietly around him as she was catapulted headfirst into a frighteningly deep black abyss, where she felt herself free-falling to an end that she could not see. Gabe’s thrusts were so fast now, one could barely finish before the other started, his face was contorted and dripping with sweat.

“Bobbi . . . ,” he grunted. “God!” He came with one final, massive thrust. He went completely boneless in her arms and was waiting to catch her when she floated to the bottom of the abyss.

He withdrew his still throbbing penis from her with a wince, while she sucked in a shocked gasp at his abrupt departure from her body. He immediately dispensed with their protection and gathered her into his arms.

CHAPTER SEVEN

They were silent for a very long time afterward. The sweat dried and cooled on their bodies, and Bobbi began to shiver despite the warmth of the evening. Gabe tightened his arms around her and turned her so that she was sandwiched between the back of the huge, lavishly upholstered sofa and his hard body. She immediately felt safe and warm and buried her face against his chest with a contented sigh.

She dozed off but woke with a start when Gabe adjusted his position carefully.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “My arm fell asleep.”

“Oh.” She felt inexplicably shy now as she tried to sit up. He reluctantly released her and allowed her to disentangle herself from his arms and legs. She kept her eyes averted as she got up and began hunting for her clothes.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough. He also got up and ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it thoroughly in the process. He looked way too appealing and Bobbi found that she couldn’t look at him for too long without wanting to run back into his arms again.

“Fine . . .” She found her shorts but couldn’t find her panties or her top. Wanting only to get herself covered as quickly as possible, she tugged on the shorts and grimaced at the uncomfortable sensation of rough denim against her overly sensitive flesh. She found his shirt instead of her top and, deciding that it would do, dragged it on and buttoned it up only high enough to cover her breasts, leaving a deep V of exposed flesh from neck to cleavage. She didn’t know how sexy she looked with her messy hair and the masculine shirt that was so long on her it completely hid the shorts from view.

“Are you hungry?” he asked stiltedly, and she shook her head. God this felt so uncomfortable suddenly. How did one behave after something like that? What did one say to your secret lover slash best friend after you’d had amazing sex for the first time? Bobbi was at a complete loss.

“No. I have an early start tomorrow morning,” she said, searching for her shoes and finding them beneath his discarded trousers. She slipped on the trainers without socks and blasted him with a bright, insincere smile. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to leave yet,” he protested. “Have a snack . . . or something.”

“I’m not hungry and I’m rather tired.”

“Do you regret what happened?” he asked, a surprising amount of uncertainty in his voice. She sighed and made direct eye contact for the first time since getting dressed.

“No. I don’t,” she said truthfully. “I just don’t know what happens next. Do you?”

“Not really,” he confessed. “But we could find out together.” She smiled at him before closing the distance between them until she stood directly in front of him. She cupped his jaw with her hands and tugged his head down, going up on her toes to meet him halfway. The kiss she gave him was sweet and filled with aching promise, but she moved away before he could deepen it. His eyes remained shut for a heartbeat longer before he sighed and looked at her regretfully.

“That felt like a good-bye kiss.”

“Hmm, a good-night kiss,” she confirmed. “I have to go.”

“You don’t,” he denied. “You could stay the night.”

“Gabe, that’s not how we keep this thing between us secret,” she said with an incredulous laugh. “The first person who spots me making my way home in the morning would know exactly what we’d been doing all night.”

His eyes were filled with mute frustration, and she watched the muscles in his tight jaw bunch as he bit back whatever he’d been about to say in response to her words.

“I’ll see you soon,” she assured before turning away and heading for the door. She just needed to keep it together long enough to get out of this house. She refused to allow him to see how much he had hurt h
er, and if she stayed much longer he would surely notice her eyes shining with the tears that she absolutely refused to shed. She wasn’t a crier. Crying never solved anything. He let her leave without any further resistance, and Bobbi fled. Only when she was halfway across her own yard did she succumb to an extreme bout of trembling as the shock finally crept in.

Gabe felt like punching something. This felt so . . . wrong. It shouldn’t have been so difficult to let her leave. But he’d had the best sex of his life tonight and he wasn’t done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

And yet . . . afterward, the distance between them had left him feeling sick to his stomach. He wanted to have sex with her again, but he could do without the extra dose of scorching guilt that came after he came, so to speak. He felt like he was cheating on someone and he didn’t understand why.

He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had suggested that she stay the night, but from the moment the words had emerged he’d wanted it desperately. He had wanted to make love with her again, fall asleep next to her, and wake up with her in his arms. It had been all he could think of and when she had—quite justifiably—shot him down, the blow had been pretty damned devastating.

Sleeping with her would complicate things. It was better to keep the sex impersonal but even as he nodded in response to the thought, he felt that hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach again.

But this was still new to them—they’d get used to the arrangement, more comfortable with it. They just needed time to adjust that was all. The words provided scant comfort but they were all he had.

Work the next day wasn’t quite the distraction Gabe had hoped it would be. He glared at his computer screen without really seeing the information on display.

“Mr. Braddock.” His executive assistant’s face popped up on the screen, providing a welcome diversion. “I have Mr. Richmond on the line for you.”

Gabe scowled; just what he needed. How the hell was he supposed to look the man in the eye after all the raunchy things he had done with his daughter the previous night?

“Put him through. Voice only.” He lifted the telephone’s handset to his ear.

“Mike, good morning.” He tried to keep his tone light but sounded stilted to his own ears.

“Morning, Gabe. Glad you decided to go the old-fashioned route with this call. I hate those face-to-face calls, you know? Having my every expression analyzed can be a bit disconcerting,” the older man greeted jovially.

“You just don’t want people to see the gleam in your eyes when you go in for the kill,” Gabe scoffed, and the other man laughed appreciatively.

“I wanted to know if everything was still on course for next month.”

Gabe rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Violet or Stephanie?” he asked, referring to their assistants.

“Well, you’re in charge of the event, and I want to be sure that you’re keeping an eye on those two—no need for the whole thing to get too frou-frou.”

“They know what they’re doing; it’s not their first major event,” Gabe pointed out.

“It’s the first time I’ll be handing my company over to someone else.” Mike Richmond would officially hand over the reigns to Gabe at the company’s annual Valentine’s Day Ball. Gabe knew that the older man felt ambivalent about retiring, even though his eldest son, Edward—who also happened to be his physician—insisted on it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Stephanie reminds Violet to keep it elegant.”

“No hearts and flowers everywhere,” Mike stipulated.

“Not a single one,” Gabe assured.

“Okay, I suppose we can’t have a party without some flowers,” Mike conceded. “But they don’t have to overdo it. It’s not a funeral. I’m not dying, just retiring.” Gabe grinned, happy that the cantankerous old man couldn’t see him.

“Understood.”

“Right then. Anything else I need to know?” Gabe had a moment of blind panic and cold sweat as he imagined Mike Richmond looking out of his bedroom window last night and seeing Bobbi leading Gabe across the lawn toward the fence. Or worse, had he come back down to the den last night? Gabe and Bobbi had been so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t have noticed a herd of stampeding elephants passing through the room. Logic reasserted itself as he figured that this conversation wouldn’t be quite so amicable if Mike Richmond had seen them last night.

“Gabriel?” the older man prompted, and Gabe cleared his throat.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” he said.

“Okay, well, I have yet another meeting with Clyde and his crew of bloodsuckers in a couple of minutes.” Clyde was Mike’s second son, a corporate attorney whose firm handled all their contracts. “I’ll get back to you later.” He disconnected the call abruptly.

“Right,” Gabe muttered, and replaced the handset carefully. He glanced at his desktop monitor—the spreadsheet was still there, looking even more boring than before. A quick look at the clock told him that it was barely after ten. He wondered what Bobbi was doing. How did she feel after last night?

He might not have wanted things to change, but there had been a fundamental shift in their relationship last night and he should have known it would happen. He had been an idiot to expect things to remain the same. There was an emotional element that he hadn’t considered and he was concerned about her. It wasn’t something that he had ever felt for any of his former lovers—he had never wondered if they were okay physically, mentally, and emotionally. They had known the stakes and had remained detached, but this was Bobbi, and despite everything he had said last night, separating emotion from sex when it came to someone he knew so well wasn’t easy.

He glanced at the clock again: barely two minutes had passed since he’d last checked the time. Was it too early to call her? Or perhaps he should have called earlier? Maybe he looked like an insensitive jerk for not contacting her first thing this morning? He didn’t know what to do and that was a weird sensation for him. He was always so sure of what to do. Maybe he should go to the shop and take her out to brunch?

He cracked his knuckles as he considered his options. He had to call her, not knowing what was going on in her head was driving him crazy. He reached for his cell and speed-dialed her number. It rang for ages before going to voice mail. He peered at the phone’s screen contemplatively before trying again.

This time it went straight to voice mail.

Was she avoiding his calls? Why would she do that? Was she angry? Sad? Hurt? The possibilities were endless, and he decided to find out for himself. He grabbed his jacket and headed out of the office.

“Postpone my afternoon appointments, Stephanie,” he told his assistant on his way out.

“Oh, but . . .”

“And don’t call my cell, I’ll be busy.” He interrupted what he knew would be a protest. “And remind Violet to keep things classy at that damned Valentine’s Day Ball. She knows what the Old Man likes.” The last was yelled over his shoulder as he exited her office and all but ran to the elevator before she could stop him.

He felt strangely exhilarated as he climbed into his car and headed for Bobbi’s shop. He told himself that it was because he was skiving off work, but a larger part of him admitted that he was excited about seeing Bobbi again.

Bobbi felt a tad out of sorts. Her morning had gone from bad to worse. She had slept through her alarm and then rushed into the shop forty minutes late. Pieter was off with measles of all things, leaving her shorthanded. The parts that she had ordered for the Corvette had arrived but they were all wrong and she had been on the phone for half an hour trying to reach the supplier to sort the mess out. Added to all that her entire body was buzzing with sensation after her encounter with Gabe last night. Her nipples were so sensitive that even the brush of cotton against them was uncomfortable, her muscles ached, and her hips and inner thighs were bruised from the friction of his hips and the clutch of his fingers. But none of those things compared to the extreme discomf
ort she felt . . . down there. She had had one really terrible sexual encounter before Gabe—during her first year of university—and the miserable experience hadn’t really prepared her for the full effect of a man as large as Gabe.

All those jokes women made about not being able to “walk right” after great sex? Bobbi totally got it now.

But that was really no big deal in light of how emotionally devastated she felt after Gabe’s demeaning stipulations on how they conduct this new aspect of their relationship. Her decision to have sex with him despite that had seemed like a brave step forward last night but now seemed absurdly naïve.

If she felt this awful about herself after just one night, how much worse would it get if they continued to have sex on a regular basis? She didn’t know if she had the stomach for this. Gabe had made her feel small and cheap. No that wasn’t fair . . . she had allowed Gabe to make her feel small and cheap. She bore half of the blame for this dreadful situation and she knew that.

She exhaled impatiently as she listened to the ridiculous “hold” music while she waited for the supplier to come onto the line.

“Are you ignoring my calls, sweetheart?” The dark voice coming from the doorway of her tiny office nearly shocked her into dropping the receiver, and she fumbled frantically to keep it from falling.

“God,” she gasped. “You nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry,” he said, sounding not at all remorseful. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

She watched him warily as he stepped into the tiny glass booth and shut the door behind him. He dominated the tiny space and she immediately felt boxed in and claustrophobic.

“Do you mind?” she snarled. “I’m working.”

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” he asked, using his pristine white handkerchief to wipe down the chair opposite hers before seating himself and raising his eyes to hers expectantly. She merely stared back at him with a raised eyebrow and he smiled at her. The sincerity on his face nearly undid her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling back at him.