by Cat Johnson
Laughing, she straightened, wiggling her pert ass in his crotch. “I believe that even less now than I did when I was a stupid teenager.”
Gabe slid his hand from her hip to the top of her mound, circled over just the right spot.
She sucked in a breath. “Right. Inside. Now.” She threw open the door and dragged him into her apartment by the front of his pants.
Gabe kicked the door shut, his fingers already peeling up her sweater. Her head popped free from the top, and her hair slowly drifted to her shoulders, static electricity making it stand out like a halo. In her red lace bra, she made a very naughty angel.
His lips tipped up.
She paused, her hands at the side of her skirt. “What’s funny?”
Brushing her hands aside, he finished the job of unzipping her. “Your hair just got really big. It’s cute.”
Her skirt pooled around her ankles, and she stepped out of the fabric. She stood before him in her bra and black tights, a hint of red lace peeking out at her waist. Her skin was creamy against the red and black underwear, her chest heaving beneath the semi-sheer cups of her bra. Gabe stared, becoming fully aware of each of his heartbeats as they pounded blood through his body.
Running her fingers through her hair, she rolled her eyes. “Last month we ran an article on proper hair care for the winter months. Obviously, I didn’t follow the advice.”
Gabe’s smile slowly faded. Right. Her magazine. The job she loved so much that she was using his company to get a promotion.
The company that he hadn’t told her he owned.
He had just intended to get to know Rachel as part of the bet. Sleeping with her wasn’t supposed to be on his agenda.
His chest clenched. Was he as big an asshole as his friend thought?
Her eyes never leaving his, Rachel stuck her fingers in the waist of her tights. Bending over, she slowly peeled them down her legs, giving him a fucking fantastic view of her tits.
Screw it. Rachel had made it clear her career didn’t leave room for a boyfriend. She just wanted a fun fling. It didn’t matter what his job was; a little lie or two wouldn’t hurt. He ran a finger along the tops of her bra cups. As long as he treated her well—and he would treat her very well—she would leave this temporary relationship satisfied.
Trailing his fingers alongside her bra straps, he made his way over her shoulders and to the clasp at her back. She shivered beneath his touch, and his cock throbbed in response beneath his pants.
The bra joined her skirt on the floor, and she filled his hands. Her nipples were as pink as her lips, and Gabe couldn’t resist bending down for a taste.
She dug her fingers into his skull. “That feels so good.” Her head fell back on her shoulders, exposing the length of her neck. All she wore was a teeny scrap of lace, the rest of her body unprotected, ready for the taking. But that scrap of lace covered some of his most favorite bits, and it had to go. One quick tug at the thong, and she was completely exposed.
He let his fingers roam everywhere his eyes had. Light freckles dusted her arms and chest. A small scar over her ribs demanded his kiss. And the neatly trimmed thatch of hair at her vee begged for his attention. He already knew the feel of her, how eagerly she clutched at his fingers, but Gabe couldn’t take his eyes off of her core as he eased two fingers in and out of her body.
Grabbing his shoulders, she wobbled on her feet.
Her apartment wasn’t large. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of glances to understand the layout, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“Too far.” She gestured vaguely behind her. “Couch.”
It was long and green and looked like a thrift store reject. But it appeared sturdy enough. The back was at just the right height to bend Rachel over, take her like his body demanded, but that was usually more of a second fuck position.
Standing, he swept her up and tumbled her onto the couch. His hips settled between hers, his mouth finding the sweet spot on her neck. She tasted like strawberries and cream. Delicious. He wanted to taste her everywhere.
She unzipped his pants and grabbed him through his boxers.
His mind blanked. Later. He’d taste her everywhere later. Right now, he just needed in.
“Back pocket. Wallet. Condom.” That was all the instruction he could give.
“Take off your clothes and I’ll get it,” she said.
Clothes? Who gave a shit about clothes? His important parts were already uncovered.
She paused, condom in hand, to tug at his shirt. “I want to feel you. Skin to skin.”
Well, okay, that sounded good. Gabe pulled his shirt up and over his head, not caring that a button popped off. Tugging his pants and boxers down his hips, Rachel slowly rolled on the condom.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was going to kill him. Grabbing Rachel behind one knee, he brought her leg over his hip, and pressed his way into heaven.
* * *
The stretch was delicious. Rachel opened her legs wider, wanting him deep. He eased his way in until his hips rested flush against hers.
Rachel sighed in contentment. She was so full, felt so connected, that she didn’t even want Gabe to move. She could just lie this way for a long time, with him thick and heavy inside her, his chest pressing her down into the cushions.
He brushed his lips over hers. With his fingers, he tucked a piece of hair around her ear. The tender action surprised Rachel, and she kissed the inside of his wrist.
As slowly as he’d sunk into her, Gabe eased back until just the crown of his cock remained notched at her entrance. He set the pace, languid, easy, until it became excruciating. The muscles of his ass flexed beneath her hands, and she tried to urge him faster.
Chuckling, he nipped at the tip of her breast, resisting her efforts.
“Gabe . . .”
“Patience.” Bracing himself on straight arms, he looked down to where they were joined. “You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. I love watching my dick sink into you. I’m not going to rush it.”
Rachel followed his gaze. It was entrancing, his cock, dusky beneath the condom, disappearing into her body. His hardness enveloped by her softness.
Whimpering, she dug her heels into his back. Whereas Gabe wanted to drag out the moment, the sight of him fucking her only enflamed Rachel to want more.
“Please. Faster. Now.”
Leaning down, he bit her earlobe. “Are you asking or demanding?”
“Whatever gets the job done.” As an added incentive, she fluttered her muscles, practicing every Kegel exercise she knew.
Gabe groaned. “Oh, fuck me.”
“No.” Rachel licked around the shell of his ear and whispered, “Fuck me.”
One hand at her hip, Gabe slammed into her. “Anything you want, baby.” He buried his head in the crook of her neck and pounded into her, again and again.
Rachel held on and took everything he gave her. She needed it rough and dirty. Sweet was for relationships, something Gabe wasn’t offering. This, the sweating and moaning, the slapping of skin against skin, this was what he had to give.
Rachel arched her back, took him deeper. The fullness in her body would have to compensate for the tiny hole opening in her heart. The hole where dreams went to die and whispered pleas of “what if” went unheard. What they had right now was going to have to be good enough.
And, damn, but it was good. Her lungs squeezed, her air caught in her chest. Her internal muscles rippled, every thrust bringing her closer. Gabe was close too, his jaw tight, sweat rolling down his temple. At this point, Rachel would usually help herself out, add her fingers to the mix so she wasn’t left behind. But her arms felt too heavy to move.
Gabe drove into her, his movements growing frantic. His hand tightened in her hair. “Rachel . . .” he growled.
The deep rumble of his voice did it. Throwing back her head, she exploded around him. Gabe! She wanted to scream his name, but she only thought it, too busy ga
sping for air. Her core clamped down on his cock, and Gabe groaned, giving in to his own release.
Their breathing was loud in the silence. Rachel glided her hand up and down his spine, her body still twitching around him. She loved this moment, when you were still connected but no longer driven by primal urges. A moment when she could pretend that this might be the start of something wonderful.
Gabe lifted his head. His eyes were heavy-lidded, satisfaction oozing from every pore. “I hope you weren’t thinking of kicking me out. Because we’re doing that again.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he whispered across her lips, “And again.”
CHAPTER 8
Gabe whistled as he shuffled through a stack of marketing proposals on his desk. He should have been tired. He’d been in Rachel’s bed almost every night for the past two weeks, and very little sleeping had taken place. But he felt energized. Invigorated. Like he was able to take on the world.
His phone vibrated, and Gabe smiled at the text. Whereas Trevor’s and Rachel’s texts had returned to being generic, Gabe’s and Rachel’s texts were hot enough to steam a Christmas pudding. He raised his eyebrows. If she made good on only half the things she promised in her text, he was in for a very entertaining night. Damn, she was sexy. And sweet. He just couldn’t get enough of her.
Ben paused in the open doorway of his office. “Are you whistling ‘Jingle Bells’?” His voice was all horrified fascination, but Gabe was in too good of a mood to care.
“And if I was?” Gabe plucked a proposal from the top of the stack. “We should hire this company. I think their ideas will break us into a whole new market.”
Flopping down in a chair, Ben shrugged. “Whatever. That’s your department.” He narrowed his eyes, examining Gabe closely.
Gabe looked down at his suit. “What? Did I spill something?”
“I just talked to Joe.” Ben waited, as if that should be enough information to go on.
Gabe swung his legs onto his desk. “And?”
“He said you let everyone off early today. Told them they could leave at three this afternoon?”
Gabe spun his phone around on his thigh. “Yeah. I thought they could use the time to shop for Christmas. It was, uh, good for morale.”
“So it was a business decision?”
“Of course.” Gabe shifted in his chair. “A happy worker is a productive worker.”
Ben’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his mop of hair. “Really?”
“Oh, shut up,” Gabe said without heat. “I’m not the Scrooge you seem to think I am.” His thigh buzzed, and he looked down. A smile flashed across his face before he shut it down. “Excuse me a second.”
Promises, promises, he typed. If you want me to bring cheesecake, I’ll need an added incentive.
He ignored Ben’s grin while waiting for Rachel’s response.
What do you want? For cheesecake I’ll do just about anything.
I want a sexy pic. Something that will get me through the afternoon until I see you tonight. And I want it now.
“Are you texting client 2375F?” Ben stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “Isn’t it time you officially admitted you lost that bet? Our clients are obviously not losers.”
I’m in a meeting. Think of something else.
My heart’s already set. Get creative. Gabe scowled at his friend. “Yes. I concede. I already spoke with Deb in Accounting about my bonus. Or my lack thereof, now.” Funny, he wasn’t as upset about losing the bet as he’d thought he’d be. His employees worked hard. It might take a little longer, but he was confident they’d still go public.
Creative?
I’m assuming you’re sitting at a table. If you’re wearing a skirt, I can think of a couple intriguing possibilities. Now, chop-chop.
“What’s happened to you?” His friend shook his head. “It’s like you’ve been a different person these past couple of weeks. Did you just need to get laid all this time?”
“Hey, watch it.” His friend’s question was G-rated compared to a lot of their conversations, but Gabe didn’t want to hear it this time. Rachel deserved better than locker room talk. “Besides, I got laid plenty before.”
“You’re right, you did. So, what’s changed now?”
Gabe opened his mouth, shut it. That stumped him. His musings were interrupted by an incoming text.
Okay. Got creative. Showing you the body part you most deserve.
Gabe threw his head back and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Ben asked.
Gabe showed him his phone.
A crease lined Ben’s forehead. “Someone flips you off and you laugh?”
“Yep.” While I adore every inch of you, I don’t think your finger qualifies as sexy.
“Any plans for the weekend?” he asked his friend. “You should take off early, too. No use us working in an empty office. In fact, I’m thinking of taking a long lunch.” A really long lunch if he could get Rachel to play hooky. A lunch that just might extend until dinner and beyond.
“I’m going to see that new sci-fi movie.” Ben fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “With Juliette.”
Looking up from his phone, Gabe cocked his head. “Juliette?”
His friend blushed. “Just a girl I’m seeing.”
Gabe shook his head. “You don’t turn red like that over just ‘a girl you’re seeing.’ You’d only get that embarrassed if . . .” He brought his feet down to the carpet. “You have a girlfriend.”
He turned even redder. Well, damn. Ben had a girlfriend. His nerdy friend dated, sure, but this was the first time Gabe could remember him getting flustered about it. “Congratulations. Am I ever going to meet this Juliette?”
“Maybe. If you can be nice to her.”
Well, fuck. If that wasn’t a donkey kick to the gut. “Do you really think I’d be a jerk to someone you care about?”
“Maybe not intentionally. But you might be critical of how we met.” Ben looked him straight in the eye, his expression firm. “And I won’t have you making her feel bad about herself.”
“What does that mean?” His phone vibrated, but he ignored it.
Stretching to his feet, Ben tossed him a small smile. “Look, you’re busy. And you will meet Juliette. In fact, she’s coming by the office today so we can go to lunch together. I’ll bring her around. Just be your usual charming self and we’ll be okay.” He turned for the door, and stopped at the threshold. “But not too charming. This one’s mine.” Pointing his finger at Gabe, he pulled an imaginary trigger, and was gone, leaving Gabe all kinds of confused. How Ben could ever think Gabe would hurt a woman he cared for was beyond him. What kind of jerk had he become?
He spun his phone on his desk. Well, whatever he’d become, it stopped right now. Ben’s friendship was too important to lose. And Gabe did think they’d become closer these past couple of weeks. Ben had dropped by his office more. They’d shared some laughs. Keeping his door open probably helped. Gabe eyed the exposed rectangle. The noise from his employees didn’t annoy Gabe half as much as he’d thought it would.
But he should make actual plans with Ben, even if that meant spending a night away from Rachel. Glancing at his phone, he read her text. I don’t know. A finger can be very sexy. Just imagine what all I could do to you with it.
But it wouldn’t be this night. Shooting to his feet, Gabe responded while making his way to the elevators. I don’t want to wait until tonight to see you. I’ll meet you in your cafeteria for lunch. 1 pm okay?
See you then.
Gabe started whistling, caught the look from the other man in the elevator, and broke off with a cough. Oh, fuck it. He serenaded the poor dude with his squeaky rendition of “Joy to the World.” Because the world looked pretty damn good right now. His friend was happy, and things were getting better between them. Business was good. And he was off to find cheesecake for tonight before having lunch with the most beautiful woman he knew.
Yep, life was good. Now, if only he could find a way t
o keep it that way.
* * *
Hooking the toe of her suede pump under Gabe’s pants leg, Rachel rubbed his calf. Discreetly. None of her coworkers were in the cafeteria as far as she could see, but she wasn’t about to get caught feeling up Gabe. She couldn’t even hold his hand.
A bit of mayonnaise rested in the corner of his mouth, and she swiped it with her thumb, sighing. It had been fun sneaking around with Gabe the first week or so. Now she wished they could be open about their relationship. She cursed her fictional Trevor, and kicked herself for ever thinking him up.
Gabe took a sip of his coffee. “Problem? You look like you have the weight of the world resting on your shoulders.”
“No problems.” She picked at her Cobb salad. “What time can you get off tonight? Off work, I mean,” she added when he smirked.
“Early. In fact”—he nudged her with his knee—“if you want to call in sick for the rest of the day, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Can’t. I have a four o’clock meeting.”
“Another one? Too many business meetings start to eat away at work efficiency. It can be an indicator of poor management.” Gabe broke his peanut butter cookie in half and gave her one side. The side with the majority of candy bits, Rachel noticed. She smiled.
“Mmm.” Cracking open one eye, she swallowed her bite of buttery goodness. “What would a computer programmer know about office management? Did you get a promotion I don’t know about?”
“Uh, no.” He darted his eyes around the cafeteria. “Hey, look.” Standing, he waved at someone near the salad bar. “It’s my friend, Ben.” He shifted his weight, and glanced down at her. “On second thought, I might just go over there and—”
“Too late.” Rachel watched as the man standing beside a willowy brunette headed their way. “He’s already on his way over. Who’s that with him? His girlfriend?”
“Juliette, I assume.” Gabe clapped his friend on the shoulder when he arrived. “Hey. I thought you were going out to lunch. Is this the Juliette you’ve been hiding from me?”