by Meader, Kate
He kissed her again, feeling freer than he had in years. “I guess you bring out my A game.”
“Now can I touch you?” She looked down between their bodies. “Though at the rate that thing’s expanding, it’s going to be touching everything in the room soon.”
This woman was funny. He’d forgotten how funny she was.
He reached around and unhooked her bra, releasing her breasts. As perfect as he expected. Ripe, teardrop-shaped, with perfect, rosy peaks. She gripped his sweats and pushed them down so his cock sprang free. She was right—the damn thing was big enough to need its own zip code.
Her soft hand curled around him. Not Kelly, not Kelly. He willed the panic away.
“How long can I play here?” she murmured.
Not long. Not long at all. “I’ll let you know. Yeah—yeah, like that.”
She stroked along the length. With every pass, his balls grew heavier along with his heart. “Sadie,” he whispered. “I need to be inside you.”
The thought terrified him, but he tried not to dwell on it by doing things. Fumbling for the condom. The tear of the package. The roll-on. Some skills were innate.
And then he was moving close, going too fast, making a mess of it. But he would never know from how she responded. Sadie Yates smiled, that hooky grin, the one that gave him hope that this was right even when it felt all wrong.
“This okay?” he asked, more so she could tell him.
“It’s more than okay, Gunnar,” she whispered and he sank into that hot, wet welcome. He touched his forehead to hers and held it there.
This woman is not my wife.
He waited for his cock to deflate but it obviously didn’t love Kelly the way his heart did. No, his treacherous body loved that they were back in business.
That’s okay, he told it. Lead the way. No need to overcomplicate this. No need for remorse.
He withdrew an inch, thrust again, raised his head.
Still that beautiful smile, but those silver-starred eyes wore a lusty glaze. She was waiting for him to get over himself. Her patience floored him.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m no …” Good at this.
She kissed him, a gentle press to the edge of his jaw. Her lips found the corner of his mouth and applied another shivery touch. He groaned, acutely aware that this tentative exchange was even sexier than the connection of their bodies.
Sadie Yates knew this about him.
This is what he’d been afraid of.
They kissed, mouths seeking, tongues in a dance of forgiveness and forgetting. His body moved with the flow, pushing and pulling, giving and taking. He cupped her ass and stroked deeper. The kiss took on a life of its own, an unbearable sweetness, urging them on and pushing them further past the point where his vows became meaningless. In this moment, he had no regrets, but he knew he’d feel like shit tomorrow. Like thinking one more drink won’t hurt because you’ve forgotten what a hangover feels like.
He touched between them, a tender press against her clit, needing to end it. Needing to return to that old version of himself, if he even existed anymore.
What if he didn’t? What if the man his wife had married was gone?
Sadie—beautiful, funny, perfect Sadie—fluttered and froze, and made that funny little sound in her throat. It was so sexy. She was so sexy. She tightened around him, milking him hard and long and fuuckk. It went on and on as he emptied everything he had into her.
So long with only his hand for company, that was why it felt so good. Not her sweet mouth. Not her forgiving kisses. Not her goddamn understanding.
His dick was happy, that was all.
25
Sadie dropped Lauren off at the Isners after the hockey party. She’d hoped her sister might be in a good enough mood to want to hang with her for Thai food tonight, but no. She wanted to spend time with her new friends “while she still could.” Guilt attack, ten points.
Sadie supposed it was okay. She’d have four years to get to know her sister in LA, but only a few days to keep her current employment. Allegra had left a million messages while Sadie slipped away for those stolen moments with Gunnar. She would spend the rest of the evening working the phone and online to satisfy her boss’s every whim.
Speaking of being satisfied … sex with Gunnar Bond was as amazing as she expected once the man had given himself permission to let go. Then it was shields-up as soon as it was over. No mention of when they might see each other again. He hadn’t been rude, just distant. She understood, even though it hurt.
She pulled into the driveway of the house and froze in shock.
THIEF SCUM
The words blared in large red painted letters across the front door. A chill rolled through every cell. Plenty of people hated her father, but whoever was doing this had to realize he had a young daughter. Anger evicted itchy panic.
Those fuckers were messing with the wrong chick. She dialed 911.
An hour later, she answered the door, assuming the cops had forgotten something after a frustrating session of you don’t have security cameras? Not much we can do, then. Gunnar stood there, arms crossed, mouth grim, attitude dialed up to eleven.
“What are you doing here?”
He made a rather melodramatic eye swivel to the grafitti’ed door. “You really have to ask?”
“Wow, the Rebels grapevine is on fire today.” She’d asked Jenny to keep Lauren for a couple of hours longer so she could head out to Home Depot for paint.
He invited himself in with one last glare at the door. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t think of it.” Lie. The first thing she’d wanted to do, before she even called CPD, was reach out to Gunnar. But that wasn’t their relationship. He’d made it clear they were a sex-only deal and while he’d come to her rescue before, she wouldn’t want to get used to it.
“Where’s Lauren?”
“Still over at the Isners. I was going to buy some paint and try to fix this before she gets back.”
He reached for her arms and coasted rough palms down them. “You’re not seriously thinking of staying here.”
“This is Lauren’s home, all she’s ever known. In a couple of weeks, she’ll be ripped from it. The least I can do is ease her out of it gently.”
“At the risk of someone going too far, Sadie? The letters, the rock, now this.” He shook his head. “Pack a bag, You’re coming home with me.”
Home. That felt a little too nice. She stepped back. “This is not your problem to solve, Gunnar. I appreciate you’ve helped me in the past, but I’m not leaving this house. It’ll be auctioned in two weeks and I need to have packed up everything. At this rate, I have to work through the night, every night to get all of it done. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing sneaking away to hook up with you—I literally do not have time for that. And neither do I have time for your white knight business. I’m holding on by a thread here.”
“Hey.” He gathered her in his arms and while she claimed she didn’t want it, her body took the comfort gladly. “I’m just worried about you. The both of you. What can I do? And don’t tell me nothing.”
She closed her eyes against his chest and inhaled all that clean, masculine goodness. He wanted to help—not for her, but for Lauren. That protective instinct won her over. “Could you get a can of paint from Home Depot? I’ll give you the money. I need to make some phone calls for my job, so that would really help right now.”
“Okay, but you’ll have to come with me and make the phone calls in the car.”
“Gunnar—”
“You can’t stay here alone, so that’s the deal.”
She inhaled a breath. Compromise, that’s what needed to happen. That’s what she’d not done with her father and look how that turned out.
In the car, he kept his eyes on the road. She’d noticed that was his MO and who could blame him. He remained silent, letting her get on with her work, and went into Home Depot while she stayed in the car, finishing up calls a
bout Allegra’s appointments, her reservations, her favorite champagne, travel plans for her upcoming trips. Finally she called her when she had it all done because a text to confirm wouldn’t be enough. Her boss needed the human touch.
She put on her happy face. “Hey, girl, how are things?”
“I’m in a living nightmare, Sadie! There was an earthquake here!”
“Oh, no. How bad was it?” Sadie did a quick check online and saw it registered as 4.4. Barely a quiver.
“7.6 or 7.9. I don’t know! Anyway, a couple of my Waterfords fell from the shelf so I’ll need you to file an insurance claim for me …” Sadie half-listened as the sight of Gunnar walking toward her with a paint can arrested her attention. God he looked good. But then he always did.
He caught her ogling, and his mouth kicked up in a wicked grin that made her warm all over.
“… so Raj said he’ll take a look but he can’t make any guarantees.”
Gunnar put the paint and other supplies in the trunk and climbed in. She could make out the thick musculature of his thighs against the sweatpants fabric. One lovely squeeze …
Allegra was still on speaker, so Sadie switched to regular audio. “Sorry, Allegra, were you saying that Andie’s assistant wants to look at my designs?”
Gunnar raised an eyebrow and reached over to squeeze her thigh. She glared at him but it might have come off as a smolder because he slipped a rough palm beneath the hem of her dress and traveled north.
“No promises, but I gave him your portfolio. We’ll see if anything comes of it. He said florals are not really in this year, especially on bigger patterns like yours, but Andie has been known to go against the grain. Oh, I sent the prizes for the Come As You Are contest. Did you get those?”
“I did.” A box of Moregasm spray bottles—exactly what it sounded like—and other assorted products related to self-love had been waiting on the stoop, and missed being tagged by the stalker. “I’ll work on those tonight.”
“Okay, I suppose.” Allegra sounded peeved. “Now, the insurance information is all here, so I don’t know how you’re going to manage.”
Gunnar’s hand crept its wicked way up, up, up.
“I scanned everything months ago. It’s all in the Dropbox folder, so if you could send me some photos of the damage—” Gunnar hit paydirt. She pushed back against his hand like the wanton woman she was. In a Home Depot parking lot, no less.
“Send me the photos!” She hung up. “That was my boss.”
“She sounds awful.”
“There was an earthquake in LA this afternoon.”
He rubbed a thumb over her dampening panties, moved his lips to her jaw. His beard against her skin was divine. “Oh, yeah?”
Oh yeah. Meanwhile a Midwest quake was building to erupt. A quick nibble of her ear and she was putty. “I have to get back and paint the door.”
Now he added two, then three fingers, still over her underwear but no less effective for it. “If we weren’t sitting out here in the open in broad daylight, I’d have you in my lap now, Sadie. But for now, I need you to help a man out. Pull up your skirt, move those gorgeous thighs wider, and let me see how pretty you are.”
“But we already did, uh, it, a couple of hours ago.” She sounded like the natural prude she was.
“I’ve got some catching up to do. Just do as I say.”
She did, every delicious thing he asked, knowing this was crazy and wild, and not caring one bit. Even here in the middle of a public place, he took his sweet, damn time.
It felt like they had all the time in the world.
* * *
There was nothing quite like watching a man drinking something down. Water, guttersnipes! The way his throat bulged as it navigated that tan column set Sadie’s pulse racing.
“Thanks so much for helping with the painting.”
Leaning against the kitchen sink, Gunnar raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, doing all the painting. But you did insist, with your claims of better technique, etcetera.” She moved closer and ran a hand over the front of his paint-specked sweats. “However can I repay you?”
“I’ll think of something. Always happy to help out with both painting and orgasms.”
“I see an Instagram account in the making.”
He snaked an arm around her waist. “This business bothers me. The police—and you—need to take it more seriously.”
She was worried. Who wouldn’t be? But she suspected someone wanted to let off steam rather than truly cause harm.
“We’ll be gone in a few more weeks.”
“In an awful hurry to leave, aren’t you?”
“My life’s not here.”
He looked like he was about to say something when the kitchen door opened. Lauren came in, with Jenny behind her. “Why is there a wet paint sign on the front door?”
Sadie moved out of Gunnar’s arms and met Jenny’s ah-that’s-how-it-is gaze over her sister’s head. “Needed a fresh coat of paint and Gunnar was offering.”
Lauren eyed them both with suspicion, then zeroed in on Gunnar. “But why are you here?”
“I’m pretty handy with a paintbrush.”
“Oh.” Lauren frowned, not satisfied with that non-answer. “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Isner.” She grabbed a box of Pop-Tarts, a can of Coke, and headed to the Dead-Tree room.
“What did the police say?” Jenny asked once Lauren was out of earshot.
“Probably kids.”
Gunnar snorted his disgust. “Kids who know your father was recently convicted of fraud?”
He had a point, not that Sadie appreciated it.
“They recommended I set up a security system or pay for the one we already have. Unfortunately that’s a bill I had to let go.” She smiled at Jenny. “Do you want some tea?”
Jenny flicked a glance at Gunnar, a secretive smile brightening her eyes. “I think I’ll let you get back to what you’re doing.”
“We’re not—I mean, we are, but we don’t have to be—” Sadie waved at Gunnar’s chest as color rose to her cheeks. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“Where else would I stand?”
That made Jenny laugh, then she turned serious. “You’re sticking around, Gunnar?”
“I am.”
Sadie whirled on Gunnar. “No, you’re not. My sister is here.”
“All the more reason for me to stay.” He spoke to Jenny. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it in hand.”
“Glad to hear it. Oh, and don’t forget brunch tomorrow, Sadie.”
“Brunch?” Now she remembered. Jenny had invited her to brunch with Elle and Jordan. It had seemed like a good idea after half a box of Franzia. “I don’t know if I can—I’ve so much work to catch up on.” Plus she was broke. Friends cost money, especially friends with connections to high-salaried pro athletes.
“We’ll see.” Jenny surprised Sadie with a hug and then another for Gunnar. Her expression was disgustingly approving.
The minute she was out the door, Sadie turned to Gunnar. “You can’t stay.”
“Worried the neighbors will gossip?”
“I don’t know my neighbors.”
“Might be a good idea to check in with them. See if they saw anything.” Gunnar headed over to the fridge. “How about I make us something to eat? You must be starving.”
“I appreciate the offer to stay but I thought we were supposed to be coloring inside the lines here.” She lowered her voice. “The sex lines.”
He found a bowl, cracked some eggs, and started whisking them. “I can’t ignore what happened here.”
“Ah, but you can. It’s one thing to help me out as a friend. Staying the night is a little too relationship-y, don’t you think?”
“Maybe I like the idea of sneaking around.”
She sighed. “While doing your good guy impression and keeping the damsel safe.”
“Two birds, one stone.” A heart of stone, more like. She wondered, though. For all Gunnar’s claims to bei
ng unable to offer more, he certainly didn’t have a problem being here for her in a way that counted. So confusing.
In the pan, he stirred the eggs slowly. He made them like he made her come—with a great deal of patience.
“It all feels a little paternalistic.”
He considered that. “You’re right.”
“I am?” She loved being right.
He smiled at the surprise in her voice. “I sometimes go overboard when I worry about people. Kelly used to tell me I went too far with the kids.”
“Dads can worry about their kids. It’s dad law.” Not that her father ever worried about her but he was obviously trying to get it right with Lauren.
He kept stirring. “I didn’t worry enough when it mattered. I should have—” He bit off the words and turned to face her. “Sadie Yates, if it’s okay with you, I would like to make you something to eat. And if it’s also okay with you, I would like to stay over tonight in your bed and fuck you to within an inch of your life.”
Well, then.
“We’ll see how the eggs turn out.”
Smiling, he continued with the cooking. His shoulders seemed to relax by degrees, and the oddest thought struck her: He’s more like the man in the texts. He gets closer to that man by the hour.
What had he meant about not worrying enough when it mattered? She wanted to ask, but Lauren wandered into the kitchen and stood by Gunnar at the stove. “Are you cooking?”
“Knew you were smart.”
“Mrs. Isner makes all her meals from scratch.”
“Drag me, why don’t ya,” Sadie murmured.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow, Lo?” Gunnar opened the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread. Lo?
“Nothing.”
“We could go to the practice rink. You’re dragging your heel, so we should fix that before it becomes a problem.”
The look of yearning on Lauren’s face cracked Sadie’s heart in half. “Just you and me?”
“Sure, unless you want to invite Jason. But that means we have to invite Kershaw, and you know how he is.”
“Loud. It’d be cool. I mean, just the two of us.”