by Lori Foster
Gavin’s body demanded her attention, and her eyes widened as he shucked his shorts down his legs, taking off his underwear at the same time. She was sated, but she’d have to be dead not to be moved by such a sight. He was strong and powerful and pulsing with arousal. She could have looked at him all day and been deliriously happy. But Gavin wasn’t very accommodating. He faced her, his hands fisted at his sides, and gave her only a scant second to soak in the sight of his nude perfection before he climbed back into bed with her and reached for the condoms.
“Let me,” Sara said.
But Gavin gave her a horrified look. “Not on your life. I’d never live through it.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“No, you’d kill me.” She frowned and he added, “I mean it, Sara. You keep those little hands to yourself. Maybe later, after the box is nearly empty, I’ll let you play touchy-feely. But not right now.”
He seemed so serious, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “So you can play, but I can’t?”
“Damn right.” He slid the condom on, then turned toward her. “I’m sorry, babe, but I’m short on control right now.”
“Then I’ll hold you to your promise of later. Because I really am looking forward to touching you, Gavin.”
His expression stilled with her words, his chest heaving, his jaw tight, then he growled suddenly, “Dammit!” And Sara knew she’d said too much.
She loved his loss of control. Gavin was like a wild man, starving for her. And here she’d thought he didn’t want her! Ha! She had wasted a lot of time, she decided.
But then she couldn’t think anymore. Gavin pulled her legs apart and said in a rough whisper, “Please tell me you’re ready for me,” and before she could answer, he pushed inside.
Frantically she tried to remind herself that sex was just sex, not love. But it didn’t seem that way now. Not with Gavin staring down at her, his eyes so hot and filled with bursting emotion, his fingers twined with her own, gripping her, almost painful in their urgency.
“Sara,” he breathed, and began to move.
Unbelievable the way the tension built again so soon. She cried out, but Gavin kissed her, his tongue deep in her mouth muffling the sound. When he came, he threw his head back and yelled like a crazy man. Sara touched him everywhere she could reach, stroking, kneading, then as he gave a great shudder she looked at his face and felt her own raging orgasm.
Very slowly, Gavin sank down onto her. She felt the harsh pounding of his heart against her breasts, felt his breath gusting against her sweat-damp skin as he tried to regulate his breathing. She was amazed. She was stunned.
Calm, confident, even-tempered Gavin was a wild man. Sara closed her eyes and hugged him close. She loved it.
* * *
MORNING SUN CAUSED his eyelids to twitch, and very warily, Gavin peered over at Sara. She was asleep, thank God. He felt numb all over, especially weak in the legs, and he wasn’t certain he could do more than manage a shallow breath.
He’d planned, for so damn long, to make love with Sara and overwhelm her with his touted finesse.
Instead she’d damn near killed him.
She’d taken him seriously when he’d carried in the box of condoms. There couldn’t be many left, probably only the ones he’d thrown beneath the bed, hiding them from her so she’d give him some rest. The little witch had been voracious. She certainly had more faith in his stamina than was warranted.
Many times he’d drifted into a deep sleep, only to jerk awake moments later, already hard, with her small hand stroking him or her mouth teasing him, or…But it had been wonderful. Exhausting, but wonderful. He muttered a quiet curse when he realized he was hard yet again.
He glanced at Sara’s sprawled body and knew escape to be his only option. He had an hour before he needed to be on a job, and Sara had to go into work today, too. He sincerely hoped she had more energy than he did. His knees shook when he stood.
Satan and Tripod came together to the bedroom door when Gavin started out. The two pets had made a vicious ruckus last night when he and Sara had forgotten to let them back in. It had been the only reprieve Sara had given him, allowing him to feed the animals in the kitchen. But once that was done, Gavin found himself dragged back to the bedroom.
He grinned and shook his head. It hadn’t taken Sara long at all to lose her inhibitions, and she was a glorious sight when she became demanding. He’d gladly play her sex slave again, just as soon as he had recuperated.
Picking up Satan and whistling softly to Tripod, he tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the hall, silently closing the door behind him. After giving the cat a few affectionate pats and rubbing Tripod behind the ears, he went into the bathroom to shower. He had just finished washing and was leaning back against the cool ceramic tile when the shower curtain opened and Sara stepped in. He gawked.
Sara slanted him a disgusted look, then stepped under the water. “Forget it, Gavin. I’m zonked.”
Seeing that he was safe enough, he gave in to the urge to grin. She really did look exhausted, poor thing. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “First wine, and now sex. You really do have this thing about overindulging, don’t you?”
She pushed wet hair out of her face and glared at him. “Me? You’re the one who wouldn’t stop—”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I was asleep, woman, and you—”
“You said I could touch you! But every single time I bumped you during the night you turned into a sex-crazed maniac!”
His fatigue miraculously disappeared while he watched the water sluice down her naked body. He picked up the soap and idly began working up a lather. “You have a way of bumping that sets a man off.”
“Everything sets you off!”
“Well, what did you expect? I’d been deprived for too long. If you hadn’t been so insistent on waiting…”
“Me!”
“Hush. Let me wash your back.”
His hands went around her, then settled on her slick, wet skin. They smoothed over her shoulders, down the length of her spine, then lower. Sara said, “Gavin! That is not my back.”
“That’s okay.” He kissed her throat, licking off a drop of water. “I dropped the soap anyway.”
“Gavin…” Her voice dwindled to a throaty, demanding moan.
Twenty minutes later, they were both running late. Gavin finished dressing first, and he stopped on his way out the door to kiss Sara goodbye. She sat at the kitchen table, only half-dressed, still nursing a cup of coffee, and she barely managed a pucker.
He chuckled to himself as he headed for the office. He had papers to pick up, a few phone calls to make, he needed to meet the finishers at a house in less than an hour. His knees were shaky, his eyes burned from not enough sleep, and his heart felt full to bursting.
At this rate, Sara would cripple him within a week. But it was a week he anticipated with a good deal of excitement.
* * *
SHE WAS LATE, more than an hour and a half. Gavin was probably furious, since he had expected her home by six. Still, she sat in the car a few minutes longer, not opening the door, not looking at the house.
She heard the pitiful whining in the back seat and winced. Three pets was two more than Gavin had agreed to. Not that she felt she had to gain his permission for every little thing…but then, this wasn’t a little thing. This was a very big thing. A very big, furry thing. With problems. But what else could she have done?
Sara saw the front door open, and then Gavin filled it. It was his habit to greet her at the front door each night after work, and she realized she’d already gotten used to it. He looked so good standing there, his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed in concern. He’d been worried about her? She hadn’t considered that possibility. No one had worried about her in a very long time. He started down the steps, so she quickly came out of the car and met him on the sidewalk. She wrung her hands, trying to order her thoughts.
“Sara? What is it, what’s the matter? Do you have any ide
a what time it is?”
His tone was sharp, a mixture of annoyance and worry. It was the first time he’d lost his temper with her since the day she’d brought home Tripod. She opened her mouth, ready to launch into her well-rehearsed explanations, and instead, she burst into tears. She was horrified by her own actions, but it had been such a horrendous afternoon.
Gavin grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “What the hell is the matter? Are you hurt? What happened?”
She shook her head, hiccuped, then tried again. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had to go by the shelter, and…Gavin, I have to tell you something.”
He seemed to relax all at once. He pulled her close against his chest, and she didn’t want to admit, even to herself, how wonderfully safe it felt. “Shh. Calm down, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
Then the sound of the sad, mournful whining reached their ears. Gavin froze for several heartbeats, then with a resigned sigh, he looked over her head to the car. Holding her shoulders, he pushed her back a ways to see her face. Sara bit her lip, knowing she looked guilty as sin, knowing she looked upset, but dammit all, there was nothing else she could have done. Gavin moved around her. Sara started talking ninety miles a minute. The problem was, she only had a fifty-mile-a-minute tongue, so most of what she said was garbled and nonsensical.
“It was the most terrible thing. Tragic. Just tragic. And so sad. You see, the old man died, and then the woman—his wife—just couldn’t bear to go on without him, and she went into a decline. She’s well over eighty, and she couldn’t take care of herself, much less a dog. The family has its hands full looking after her, and the dog was simply wasting away. She misses everyone so much, and she’s so unhappy. God, Gavin, I’ve never seen a more unhappy creature, and…”
Sara’s explanation came to a screeching halt. Gavin opened the rear car door, shook his head, then began talking so softly, so calmly to the dog. When he lifted the collie out, holding her weight easily in his arms and started toward the house, Sara was speechless. She trotted after him.
“What are you doing?”
Gavin never slowed his pace. He crooned to the dog, but he turned his head enough to say, “She’s upset. I’m taking her inside.” The dog looked up at him, and Gavin asked, “What’s her name?”
“Maggie.”
He said the name, softly, slowly, making it sound like a compliment, and the dog stared at him as if captivated. Sara stepped through the doorway, holding the door for Gavin, and Satan and Tripod walked to her with rapt looks of curiosity. She took a brief moment to pat the animals, then rushed after Gavin. He took the dog to the kitchen and sat her on the floor by the sink, in the spot where the late-day sun coming through the window made a warm, golden pool on the tile.
Gavin knelt in front of Maggie, rubbing her laid-back ears. Maggie curled into a small semicircle, her entire countenance one of wary disbelief. “What’s the matter, old girl? This is all pretty new, isn’t it? But you’re okay here.”
His understanding, the gentle tone of his voice, brought on a fresh rush of tears. Sara felt her bottom lip begin to quiver and pulled it tightly between her teeth. Tripod sat back to watch the happenings from a distance, choosing to lean against Sara’s leg. But Satan observed the situation with a jaundiced eye, then walked over and regally placed himself over Gavin’s knee. The look he gave the dog was filled with possessive warning. Gavin chuckled, stroking the cat.
“Be nice now, Satan. You can see she’s scared. Make her welcome.”
Satan blinked, gave one of his rumbling, rusty purrs, and brushed against the dog. The dog’s head snapped back as if startled, but Satan was relentless. Within moments, Maggie was splotched with Satan’s yellow hair. But she didn’t seem to mind, especially since Gavin was still petting her. Tripod moved closer and sniffed the dog, then flopped down beside her. She looked ready to go to sleep.
Sara sniffled, so touched by the scene she could barely keep her tears in check. Gavin heard the small sound and turned to her. “Why don’t you go take your bath, honey? I’ll look after Maggie, get her settled down for the night. In the morning, she’ll feel better.”
That did it. Sara wailed, covering her face with her hands. Only a second later, she felt Gavin pull her close. “Shh. It’s all right now.”
“I…I…know.” She hiccuped, then made an effort to calm herself, but it was impossible. “I didn’t know what to do. When Jess called me at work to tell me about Maggie, I just had to go and see her for myself. She wouldn’t eat and she kept whimpering and she…well, she was so alone. So scared. You can’t imagine what that’s like, Gavin.”
“Shh. It’s all right now.”
“I just had to bring her home.”
“Of course you did. And now she’ll feel loved again and everything will be fine.”
After a loud, disgusting sniff, Sara wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. It was then she realized the kitchen smelled of cooked chicken. She looked around and saw a variety of pots and pans on the stove, and the table was set, complete with a lit candle. Or at least, it had been lit some time ago. The wick had long since burned down. Oh, no. Gavin had cooked dinner and she’d missed it. Again. He’d wasted another special meal on her.
“I’m so sorry.” She wiped her eyes again, trying to rid herself of the insistent tears. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. “You went to all this trouble, and I wasn’t even here in time to appreciate it.”
After a long, intense look, Gavin glanced over his shoulder to where Maggie was allowing Satan to curl into her side. The dog gave a single, loving lick to the cat, leaving Satan’s entire head damp and his fur ruffed in the wrong direction. Satan closed his eyes and rumbled a ragged purr. Tripod never stirred. Gavin turned back to Sara and kissed her. “I’d say you were doing something more important. And dinner isn’t wasted. We can eat the chicken cold. In fact, take your bath and I’ll set us up a picnic outside. The animals could use the night air.”
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Sara took a step back, appalled, frightened, amazed. It wasn’t a slow awareness, but a burst of realization that nearly brought her to her knees. She loved him. She didn’t want to, didn’t want to set herself up for another disappointment, another hurt. But he gave her no choice, damn him. How could she not love a man who’d put the needs of an animal above his own?
The words felt choked as she forced them through her throat. “Why are you doing this?”
Gavin knelt again by Maggie’s side and stroked along her back. This time the dog lifted her tail in a one-thump wag.
Gavin seemed to take an inordinate amount of time before answering. Finally he looked up, his expression blank of all emotion. “Did you really expect me to play the tyrant and demand you take the dog back? Only a real bastard would refuse to give that dog a little love. Ah, and you were late, too. Should I have thrown a tantrum because dinner was ruined? Would you have dealt better with that?”
Sara shook her head, even as she said, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know me. Yet you keep comparing me to Ted and your parents and every other person who ever let you down, and I don’t mind telling you, it makes me mad as hell.”
“I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did. Why would you think I’d feel any less compassion for that dog than you do?”
“Because…” Sara swallowed. She drew in a ragged breath and started again. “Because you don’t know what it means to be alone and scared and—” Her voice broke, but Gavin didn’t make a move toward her. He continued to stroke the dog, and occasionally Satan when the cat demanded it. But his gaze never left her face, and through her tears, Sara saw his understanding. It was humiliating, because she had a feeling he knew her better than she knew herself.
“I’m going to go take my bath now.”
Gavin nodded. “I’ll get our dinner together. And Sara? When we’re done eating, we’re going to talk.”
It sounded closer to a threat than a mere statement. Gavin
watched her closely, as did Satan and Maggie. Even Tripod managed to stir herself enough to give a quick glance. Sara felt outnumbered, and after a huge sigh, she nodded agreement.
As if relieved by Sara’s decision, Maggie laid her head on Gavin’s thigh. The dog no longer looked so cautious or forlorn. And Satan seemed to be taking the addition of yet another pet in stride. That is, until he stood up and decided to mark Gavin as his own territory in the time-honored tradition of all male animals. Gavin jumped to his feet, but not in time.
Sara realized she no longer felt like crying. In fact, she had to hold her mouth to stifle her laughter. She had just turned to leave the kitchen when she heard Gavin mutter, “I’ll put ten bows on you, dammit! Do I look like a tree?”
CHAPTER 9
FOR MOST OF HER LIFE, Sara had felt hollow. She hadn’t realized that until now, when she felt ready to burst with an incredible wealth of emotion. She’d lived with emptiness so long, it was almost alarming to acknowledge the difference now. But feelings she’d never encountered before filled her, making her whole. She wanted to cry, she wanted to laugh.
She wanted to tell Gavin that she loved him.
But she didn’t dare.
This was all too new and too fragile to put to the test so soon. As she sat through the dinner that Gavin had prepared, on the tablecloth he’d spread on the ground, she couldn’t help but smile. He coddled Maggie, he calmed Tripod and he reassured Satan, all without thought. Simply because he was that kind of man—so different from any other person she’d ever known.
That, too, was frightening. How could a man like Gavin ever really care about her? She was so used to people turning away, or in Ted’s case, running away. She wanted to surround herself with things that would be permanent. Like her house, her pets. But she couldn’t make Gavin permanent. He would only stay if he chose to.