Hoooo-boy. I was going to have to get ahold of myself here, and quick. I’d already whacked him up upside the face. I couldn’t be ripping off his buttons too. “Could you hand me that wire?” I said, trying desperately to sound professional. “The thin one? With the white line in the middle?” I pulled a plastic hook and removable foamy backing from my pocket. I peeled the paper backing off the wall side of the squishy adhesive strip and affixed it to the plaster, pressing the plastic hook in place. Gabe reached into the hallway for the cord, still keeping one hand on the ladder to make sure I didn’t fall. He tightened his grip on the middle rung, and the veins in his forearm grew even more noticeable.
I tried to think if I had ever been so close to anybody so sexy. I mean, unless I counted one of the personal trainers at the gym, whose attention I had only ever gotten by falling off a yoga ball, I think it was a resounding, deafening no. “Did you model before you got into television?”
Oh, Lily, Lily, Lily. I clutched the top step of the ladder, hooking my fingers over the plastic cap. “That was supposed to be an inside thought. I think maybe I need a snack.”
Gabe laughed a lovely embarrassed laugh. “I’m no model. Just a guy who likes to make home movies and somehow managed to make a career out of it.”
With burning cheeks, I hooked my patch cable up with the mic as he watched me. Normally when I did my work, I didn’t think in particularly techy terms. But today I did, and I watched the male end slide into the female end. Mmmm-hmmmm.
I made my way down the ladder, each step surprisingly unsure because my thighs were literally trembling. When I was back on the ground, he took a step toward me and I held on to the side of the ladder, frozen with desire as he got closer and closer. He leaned in and reached out his hand so that his fingertips were brushing my cheeks. He’s going to kiss me. Oh my God, he’s going to . . . I inhaled, fluttering my eyelids closed and raising my lips to his.
“Here,” he said.
When I opened my eyes, I saw he’d only been pulling a piece of backing paper from my hair.
“Right, yes.” I rubbed my lips together and glued my eyes to a nearby light switch. I was horrified. He’d been trying to help me, and I’d turned into some kissy-faced wanton woman. One pint of ice cream in my pajamas wasn’t even going to put a dent in this embarrassment; I was going to have to stop by the grocery and get one of those plastic buckets of cheap Neapolitan. What is wrong with me? I jammed the little piece of paper into my pocket and straightened my shoulders. And wiped my sweaty hands on my bare legs. “Well! I think that does it!”
Gabe shook his head. “One more room.” He pointed behind me. “Master bedroom.”
I glanced over my shoulder and into the bedroom across the hallway. It was beautiful, spacious, and luxurious. There was a massive plaster fireplace on the wall and a gigantic old wooden bed in the middle. The bed had fancy sheets, like something out of an overpriced home-wares magazine. But the covers were a bit rumpled, and I spotted a cell phone charging cord plugged into the wall and an empty glass on the nightstand. It was the room where he was staying. It was the bed where he had slept. I envisioned him with his waist barely covered by the sheet, like in a soap opera. Cue the Young and the Restless theme song.
“Of course,” I squeaked and grabbed the last of the mics. Feeling frazzled and embarrassed, I scurried toward the room before realizing I needed one more sticky hook from my bag. I spun around to grab it. When I did, I smacked right into him, and the air left my lungs with a whoosh.
I stayed there. Frozen. The longer he held my stare, the more bedroomy his eyes became. But I had no idea what to do with a man as handsome as he was. I couldn’t make a move on him—I could hardly look right at him. So I chickened out and tried to pretend that I was actually trying to grab a piece of tape from the roll on his arm. But I got distracted when I touched his skin, and I slid my hand off the tape and onto his forearm instead.
As soon as I touched him, I saw something wild in his expression. Something so intense, it sent a prickle of goose bumps right through me. It was as if I’d fired a starting pistol. He took one more step toward me and said, “I want to kiss you, Lily. Better stop me right now before I can’t stop myself.”
I wasn’t used to this kind of treatment at all. I was used to men who confused chivalry with going dutch and thought unbridled desire was some sign of disrespect. False! What I’d always wanted was a man. But I’d never imagined a man quite like this.
And I wasn’t about to stop him. No, siree.
He gripped my hips and shoved me up against the wall. The plaster was cold against my skin, and the chair rail dug into my tush. He pressed his hips into my stomach and pulled my face toward his. He wasn’t shy about it. He was aggressive and furious and unrelentingly male. Knotting my hair around his fingers, he cupped my jaw, looked hard into my eyes, and kissed me. Oh God and heaven above, did he kiss me. Kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. Our teeth clashed, my lip got pinched, my tongue got swept aside. He growled into my mouth and dug his fingers into my thighs.
It was electric, dizzying, and disorienting. I opened my eyes to make sure I didn’t miss a thing, not a second of this beautiful man kissing me. I’d been watching him all day, and I couldn’t stop now. I watched him devour me, get lost in me, savor me. This time, reality didn’t fuzz into the dream. The dream became the reality.
Gabe really let me feel his strength, pinning me with such force that I came up onto my tiptoes and whimpered. We pawed at each other, so frenzied that I didn’t know whose breath was whose. I pushed him back from me an inch and let my fingertips slide across the bare skin above his belt under his shirt. I traced the lines of the hills and valleys of his abs and the very top of his treasure trail. And the muscles. Oh, glory, glory, glory. There they were.
The muscles.
When he felt me tracing them down past his belt line, he inhaled hard and pressed me against the wall even harder. He took his hand away from my hip just long enough to slam the bedroom door. With his other hand he drew my knee up, like we were about to tango. Standing on one foot, hanging on to him for support, I thought how easy, how simple, how natural it would be for him to hoist me right up off the floor, and . . .
Whoa, nelly, this was bananas!
I flattened my hand and pushed him away, sucking in a breath. “I . . . ,” I said, locking eyes with him. “We have to slow down . . .”
My skin stung from the coarseness of his stubble. He looked greedy, and his stare was intense. Almost a warning. Like I might not be able to stop him now that he’d gotten started. “Why?” he growled, letting me feel his hardness against my thigh. A lot of hardness. Big hardness.
The gruffness of his voice and the pressure of him against me just about made me lose my resolve. But still, I stayed strong and sensible. I was no prude, but I was no wanton woman either. “It’s the heat.” I tried not to let him hear that I was, in fact, panting. I smoothed one of the fist-shaped puckers I’d made on his shirt. “Makes people do crazy things.”
Gabe told my cleavage, “It’s not the heat.”
Feeling flustered, shy, and more than a little annoyed with myself for not having the guts to go headlong into what was surely going to be the most delightful of afternoon delights, I reached for the carved-crystal doorknob. Except when I tried to turn it, nothing happened. I jiggled it back and forth, but it didn’t turn. Gabe let out a breathy laugh behind me, and I looked at him over my shoulder, still holding on to the knob.
“Suppose that explains the keys downstairs,” he said and adjusted his pants to accommodate his now much more noticeable bulge. Gaaaaah!
Only the tiniest thread of common sense was preventing me from shoving him backward onto the bed, climbing on top of him, and saying, “I’ll sew your buttons back on myself!” as I sent them pinging around the room like a handful of M&Ms.
He took a step toward me. I was actually trembling with desire—it was buzzing through me, through every muscle and bone. “For
the record,” Gabe said, “I want to take you. Right here, right now.”
My breath came out as a shudder. If he came at me again, I was going to crack like an overstuffed taco shell. Just one more scoop of Gabe and I was a goner. “Noted,” I whispered.
He hooked my chin with his brawny finger and made me raise my eyes to his. “But instead I’ll get us out of here, take you to dinner, and pretend like fucking you hasn’t been the only item on the agenda since you nearly knocked me out. We clear?”
I was stunned with desire. Shivering with need. Pulsing with please, please, please. Yet somehow, in the midst of all of it, I hung on tight to the antique doorknob and managed to whisper out the only word that was left in my head. “Crystal.”
5
GABE
She was one hell of a kisser, and I couldn’t wait to taste her again. Her lips were kiss-reddened from my stubble, and she was blushing hard. And Jesus, I wanted her. I wanted her in bed, naked. I wanted to take her through sunset and halfway through the night. But she’d stopped me, and I respected that. For now.
I took one last look at her fantastic cleavage and turned around, adjusting my hard-on with my back to her. The struggle was real. My inseam was not prepared for her, not even close.
Once I got myself situated, I focused on how to get us out of the bedroom. I didn’t have my phone, and as I could tell by looking at the pockets of that tiny little flowered number she was wearing—fuck me—neither did she. We were on the second floor, with a view of the big overgrown yard. Right below the window was the roof of the back porch. That made it easy. “I’ll climb down and get the keys.” I unlocked the metal latch on the window, gripped the sash with both hands, and gave it a push.
The damned thing didn’t budge at all.
Lily gave it a try, but it was the same result. Not even a rattle. “Humidity,” she said. “Or else it’s painted shut. But there’s that . . .” She spun around, pointing at the door.
Above it was a louvered window, one of those old-fashioned things that has a hinge on the top. Walking across the room, I cracked my knuckles and then hooked my fingers over the top of the doorjamb, getting ready to pull myself up.
Lily tugged on one of my belt loops and wagged her finger at me. “There’s no way you and all this”—she gave me a glance up and down—“are going to fit through there. I’ll go.” She kicked off her sandals. “Give me a boost.”
I let go of the jamb and raised my eyebrow at her. “You think I’m gonna let you be the hero?”
She gave me an equally sassy eyebrow lift. “That way you won’t get stuck in the window, and you might even get to cop a feel.” She sealed the deal with a shimmy of her hips that made her boobs shake.
The way they shook reminded me of the way flan jiggled, like the kind I’d had in Spain. I liked flan. But I liked her boobs way better. “Sold.” I crouched down and intertwined my fingers. Using my shoulder for support, she nestled her heel in the cradle of my hands. The skin of her calf was smooth and soft, and I noticed a tan line on her foot in the shape of her sandal. It was V-shaped, like the straps of her flip-flop. It was also the same shape as her panty line, now at eye level. I ground my teeth, thinking how badly I wanted to yank those suckers off her. I could hear the lace ripping already.
“Ready?” Lily asked.
You’ve got no idea, sweetheart. I cleared my throat and looked away from that enticing, mouthwatering ridge. “Count of one, two, three,” I said and gave her a boost like we were doing some sort of cheerleading move.
She rose up into the air with a squeal. She wasn’t heavy at all, but the position was awkward, and as I hoisted her up I had to step into her. My forehead was against her ass, and my face was between her legs. “I take it back. This was fucking brilliant.”
Lily giggled above me. I inhaled deeply. There was the faintest hit of something other than her perfume and her lotion. That scent, that salty warmth, gave me a pulse of desire right through my balls.
Her toes curled slightly as she leveraged herself against my hand. Yet again, I was painfully hard in my pants. With her free leg, she anchored herself against the doorknob. The change in position put my nose right on the edge of her shorts. I pressed my forehead against her ass and suppressed a growl.
“Well, hello,” she said, all low and sultry.
Now she decides to have her way with me. “Hurry up before I can’t help myself and sink my teeth into you.”
“OK!” she giggled. “OK,” she said again, with more focus. She wobbled a bit, but I kept her steady. I heard the window creak open above me, and with her free leg she tried to get a toehold on the door, but her foot slid right down the shiny off-white paint.
“Give me a little more,” she said. “Please.”
Maybe it wasn’t supposed to sound dirty, but Jesus, that’s how I heard it. My mind was in the gutter, and it was there to stay. I hoisted her heel up farther, but it wasn’t enough. She was halfway out the window, with her torso out and her hips still on my side. There was no way for me to get enough leverage by boosting her heels alone. It meant one thing.
I was going to have to put my hands on that ass.
“All right. I’d apologize if I were sorry, but I’m not,” I said. “I’m going to have to . . .” Very gently, I put one hand in the center of her magnificent ass cheeks.
“Oh Lord.”
Under my palms, her skin was so soft and voluptuous that all I could think of doing was giving it a flat-handed spank. I could almost hear the crack of my palm against her. I gripped her hips and gave her a push. It got her about halfway through, up to her waist.
“Keep going,” she told me, getting into it now. “Don’t be shy. I won’t break.”
Now I didn’t even try to suppress my growl.
Her laugh echoed through the hallway. “Harder, Mr. Powers. Harder.”
She was killing me. “Don’t know, Lily. You might have to hang out there for a while so I can do a safety check.” I dug my hands more firmly into her ass.
“Give me one more good thrust, you animal,” she said through another wonderful giggle. “I can take it.”
Fuck. I gave her one more shove, and she finally wedged her knee out of the window. She wriggled through the opening, hung on to the sill with her fingers and thudded down onto the floor. “One enormous set of ancient skeleton keys, coming right up,” she said as she pitter-pattered down the hallway.
What a cutie.
The keyhole gave me a peekaboo view of her face and her cleavage, but the scene cut to black as she tried the first key. She gave it a twist, but it answered with a clack and she pulled it out, giving me a new angle on her beautiful face. “So tell me about this show you’re filming,” she said.
Her spaghetti strap slid down, revealing her bra strap underneath. Beneath that was the faint, pale edge of a tan line. I saw the top of her bra—the delicate scalloped edge was pink trimmed with white. Because she didn’t know I was watching, she didn’t fix it, and I pressed my fist to my mouth to stop myself from groaning. She tried another key, and the keyhole went dark again. She huffed and pulled it out, giving me my perfect view once more. “Gabe?”
Focus, Powers. Focus. Answer the goddamned question. “This is for the pilot,” I explained. “I’ve found it’s a hell of a lot easier to actually film an episode than pitch an idea on paper.”
She nodded and wrinkled up her eyebrows, as animated as if I was sitting across from her. “Makes sense. Does that mean you’ll do more episodes? If they . . .” She trailed off and looked up at the ceiling like she might find the word up there. “Give you the go-ahead or whatever the lingo is?”
“Yeah. That’s the idea.”
She tried another key, and the hole went dark again. Again she gave it a twist, but the lock didn’t shift. “So the guy who I talked to this morning?” she asked. “That was . . .”
“My producer.” I realized I didn’t sound nearly as annoyed about him as I sometimes felt. The fact was, even if he was a
n occasional pain in my ass, he’d made it so I got to spend the day with Lily. And I had zero complaints about that. “Markowitz. But let me ask you something. Do you believe in these Savannah ghosts everybody’s always talking about?”
She froze with the keys swinging from the ring. “I don’t really know. I think so.” She wrinkled up her eyebrows again. “But I’ve never seen one or anything. It’s really just stories for me.”
Now there was an idea. “Maybe I can get you on camera telling some of those stories.”
Her eyes widened and then scrunched shut with a cringe. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She shook her head and smiled. “No, I don’t think . . . That’s very nice of you. But no. I’ll leave the television stuff to you.” Now she actually fanned herself. “Lord knows, you know what you’re doing.”
The idea of her watching my show was intensely hot to me. A kink I never knew I had.
The next key on the ring was a long and thin one, slimmer and shinier than the rest. She placed it in the lock, slid it into the keyhole . . .
And poked me right in the goddamned eye.
I lunged backward, trying to catch myself before I fell. But no dice. The bare floors were slippery, and I clocked the back of my head on the hardwood. “Fuck,” I groaned, clasping my eye with one hand and my head with the other.
“Oh my God, are you OK?” she asked as the jingling got more urgent. “Hold on! It’s got to be one of these!”
“Totally fine.” I blinked hard against my palm and felt my eye welling up with tears. “Just getting comfortable.”
I blinked up at the circular plaster chandelier medallion as tears streamed down my cheek. What the hell was going on here? I’d spent my whole career avoiding dangerous situations. I get within ten feet of Lily and it’s one disaster after another. She was like the Bermuda Triangle.
Lily finally found the right key and came bursting in. Through the blur of the tears, I watched her try to put together why the hell I was lying on the floor. She looked at me and the door and the ring of keys in her hand. “What happened?”
Do You Feel It Too? Page 4