Restless Harmony

by Kylie Gilmore

  Chapter Eleven

  “You like the bath?” he asked as he nibbled her ear.

  “Mmm…it was sweet of you.”

  “I don’t want to be sweet.” He nipped the side of her neck, making her gasp. “I want to make you scream my name.”

  “O-oh,” she said shakily.

  He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck. “So what do you think?”

  “You’re very forward,” she said primly.

  He chuckled. “I’m in the tub with a beautiful naked woman who wore a slutty dress for me with no panties and now you think I’m forward?”

  She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I told you that dress was slutty, especially with no panties.”

  “You seemed to like it once the champagne started flowing.”

  She turned back around and played with the bubbles. “I like anything once the champagne starts flowing.”

  “Maybe I should order us more champagne. This is one of those fancy bathrooms with a phone by the toilet.”

  She giggled.

  His hand stroked her belly in lazy circles. “Zoe, you make life feel fresh and new. I love that about you.”

  Warmth speared through her at the words. Or maybe it was his hands, which had moved up to massage her breasts. “I do?” She leaned back, her head resting on his shoulder. His long fingers pinched her nipples. Heat shot through her, a deep throbbing that took all of her attention. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice lulling her. “Just let me have my way with you.”

  “Ha,” she managed.

  “I’m serious.” His fingers stroked a hot soapy trail from her breasts to her hips, sliding toward her inner thigh. “Please.”

  “Please,” she echoed.

  He chuckled softly as he opened her legs wide, slowly stroking up and down, learning the feel of her, slipping one long finger inside before sliding back up to her favorite spot. She let out a blissful sigh. He was so gentle at first that she simply closed her eyes and floated through sensation as his magical fingers stroked her center while his other hand played with her breast. The sensation built slowly, in a way no man had ever taken their time with her, seeming to want only her pleasure. Her jaw went slack.

  He moved the bubbles aside. “Watch.”

  She watched those fingers as she felt them, and the combination of both seeing and feeling what he did to her made the intensity skyrocket. Within minutes, she was moaning, unable to help it as he became more demanding, separating her folds, stroking quickly until she was writhing in his arms. He clamped an arm around her waist, holding her tight as he worked her, until she was trembling with the need for release, and then she broke in a climax that shook her to her core. But he wasn’t done. He lifted her out of the water and pushed her forward, her hands resting on the wide ledge of the tub. She waited, still breathing hard, heard the rustle of the condom wrapper and then his hands clamped on her hips as he took her with one deep thrust that had her breath catching.

  “Look at you,” he said gruffly as he thrust deep again.

  She saw them in the mirror. She looked thoroughly worked over, her hair half frizzy from the water, her cheeks flushed. He looked like he wanted to devour her.

  He met her eyes in the mirror. “Yeah,” he said as if he’d read her thoughts.

  And then his wicked fingers were back as he thrust hard, and she didn’t think she could take much more. His voice was harsh in her ear. “Scream my name when you come.”

  She couldn’t speak, could only moan, and then he did God-knew-what move, some kind of spiral, pinch, and twist with his fingers that had her flying, her vision dimming as a slight ringing ran through her ears, and then she was back, tingling all over, his hands still gripping her hips, pulling her back as he thrust in, opening her onto him to take him as deep as he could go. She rocked helplessly as he pumped into her, felt his shuddering release, and just lay there, exhausted and limp.

  He kissed her shoulder and loosened his grip on her hips. His voice rumbled in her ear. “I didn’t hear my name.”

  “I think I passed out for a minute,” she mumbled.

  “Next time.” She could hear the smile in his voice. He pulled out and stood in a noisy rush of water. She heard the water draining from the tub, but she couldn’t move. She stayed draped over the side of the tub, resting her head on her arm, not trusting her legs just yet, her head a little woozy.

  He slapped her ass. “Come on.”

  “Ow,” she said weakly.

  Then he was lifting her out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel, and carrying her to the bed. She snuggled into the pillow as he pulled off the towel and covered her with the blanket.

  “Rest up,” he whispered when he’d settled in next to her. “I want more from you in the morning.”

  “Mmm…”

  He turned her, spooning her from behind, his still half-hard erection pressing into her bottom. She was asleep within minutes.

  ~ ~ ~

  Zoe slipped into the shower the next morning while Gabe slept. Okay, she’d had too much champagne, too much wine, too many bubbles. But she didn’t feel hungover. She felt euphoric. Damn, he was good. He overwhelmed her plain and simple. From the five-star hotel to the shopping, the bubble bath, the way he turned bossy and demanding once he’d set about seducing her. How easy it was to surrender. How shockingly rewarding. She throbbed, remembering.

  “Zoe?”

  “In the shower,” she hollered.

  “I’m getting us room service breakfast,” he said through the door.

  “Great!”

  She luxuriated in the water pressure that was more like a massage than the trickle she got in her apartment. They’d talk over a nice breakfast. About this thing between them, and how she’d like to not end up homeless when it was over. So civilized that way.

  “Quick question,” Gabe said, much closer now. She startled as he peered at her through the glass block wall of the shower. The glass distorted the view, but she made out naked man well enough. Her throat went dry.

  “Yes?” she croaked.

  “You ever have shower sex?”

  She opened her mouth to say we really need to talk, but couldn’t get out the words because he’d joined her, and his thick rigid erection took all of her attention.

  “Yes or no?” Gabe prompted, setting a condom on the small soap holder.

  She blinked. “No.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I’m your first.”

  “Gabe, wait.” She held up a hand. “Maybe we should talk.”

  He grabbed her hand, pulled her against him, and kissed her. Her knees went weak as he devoured her, no other word for the way he took control, she felt devoured as his hand gripped her hair, holding her in place for his kiss, his tongue thrusting in, his lips hard and unyielding as they slanted over hers, his whiskers scraping her skin. His kisses were dangerous, turning her into a puddle of need, making her cling to him. He pulled back and gave her a look that made her heart thud hard against her chest. That look said he wanted her for breakfast.

  “Gabe,” she said, breathless, “please…I think…” The words died in her throat as he dropped to his knees, grabbed her ass, pulled her into him, and sucked on her hard. Her breath hissed out.

  He looked up at her. “You won’t think, I promise you.”

  He kissed her intimately, softer now. Within minutes, she was rocking helplessly against his mouth as he gripped her ass, holding her in place. His tongue and lips quickly drove her over the edge with a white-hot intensity that had her screaming his name, which made him groan against her, the vibrations setting her off again, and he kept going and going until she was absolutely spent. She would’ve collapsed like a limp ragdoll without him holding her up. He stood, and she wobbled from the sudden lack of support. He rolled on the condom, and then he had her up against the wall, driving into her.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he said.

/>   She did, clinging to him tightly.

  “Zoe,” he murmured, his gaze at once searing and tender. “My Zoe.”

  Her mind shut down. There was just Gabe filling her, overwhelming her, pushing her to another explosive climax that left her trembling in his arms as he took what he needed from her with hard thrusts for his own release. He kept her like that, pinned against the wall, as he caught his breath. Finally, he pulled out, and she sank down the wall, her legs weak and shaky from clinging to him. Then he was pulling her back up, washing her gently, thoroughly, drying her, wrapping her in a towel, and carrying her to the bedroom.

  She let out a sigh when she felt the soft pillow and bed under her once again.

  “Rest, Zoe,” he whispered, pulling her close, spooning her from behind.

  “Mmm—oh!” He’d slipped inside her, still hard. “Gabe—”

  “Shh. Just let me be inside you a little longer. When you wake, I’m going to do wicked things to you.”

  She let out a shaky sigh. He stroked her hair, relaxing her again.

  They didn’t make it out of the hotel room that day.

  ~ ~ ~

  Gabe wasn’t ready to have his weekend with Zoe end, so when they got back late Sunday night, he followed her right into her apartment. He had her naked in bed, flat on her back, within minutes. Her only words, a soft yes, drove him on. She gave him everything he demanded without hesitation, always with that soft yes. It was a major turn-on for him, having total control in bed. Not all women could let go the way she did—with complete, trusting surrender in a way that told him she loved it as much as he did. He was sensitive enough to adjust his lovemaking to a woman’s responses, but Zoe had required zero adjustment to what he desired. That was the first time that had happened. Ever.

  He wore her out. He wore himself out, and then he slept, spooning her from behind, his hand cupping her breast possessively.

  He woke in the middle of the night, disoriented. Why was he awake? Zoe was still sound asleep, pressed up against him. He listened carefully—a noise like a scratching or scurrying from the ceiling. Damn, he didn’t want to leave the bed, with her soft curves pressed against him. He’d had her so much already, but he wanted her again. He belatedly realized he should’ve asked her if she was sore instead of taking her the way he had.

  He stroked from her breast down to her stomach, spanning his fingers wide to touch as much of her as he could. She didn’t stir. He heard the scurrying noise overhead again. If it was another bat, they might have a nest up there, or a hole in the roof. He eased himself away from Zoe and stood.

  “Gabe?” Zoe mumbled.

  “Go back to sleep.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard a noise in the attic,” he said.

  She sat up, the blanket clutched up to her neck. “You think there’s more bats up there?”

  He’d hoped not to disturb her, but now that she was up… “Maybe,” he said. “You have a flashlight?” At least Fred was still at Daisy and Trav’s house, so they didn’t have his crazy barking.

  She wrapped the blanket around her and fetched one from the kitchen drawer. He took it and headed for the attic. She followed closely behind him. He opened the access panel. Nothing. It was quiet up there. He moved the flashlight all around, peering into the rafters.

  “Maybe it was just a squirrel on the roof,” she said. “Something outside.”

  Gabe saw something on the rafter and reached.

  “What are you doing?” Zoe screeched. “Don’t touch it!”

  He pulled down a bundle of envelopes tied with pink ribbon. He shone the light on them. The envelope on top was addressed to Allie. “They’re my mother’s. This used to be her art studio.”

  “I remember. She did those picture books about the hedgehogs. What was it called again?”

  He grimaced. “The Huddles. And later she added the Cuddles, a group of porcupines. Based on me and my brothers.” The whole damn series was so embarrassing. The hedgehogs had been based on him, Luke, and Jared. They later did battle with the porcupines (Vinny, Nico, and Angel), until they resolved all their hedgehog-porcupine differences and learned to live together in harmony. So sappy. Angel, being the youngest and sappiest, was the only one who loved those books.

  “Does she still do them?” Zoe asked.

  “No. We grew up, and now she just does portraits.”

  “I’ll have to reread those books again in the new Reynolds-Marino context.” He could tell she was getting a big kick out of this.

  “Please don’t.” He’d been the leader of the Huddles with a special scepter and cape with a giant H on it.

  She took the flashlight from him and shone it on the bundle of letters. “It looks like they were hand delivered. No stamp. No return address.”

  He snagged the flashlight and made his way to the small kitchen, setting the letters on the counter. He’d give them to his mom next time he saw her. He turned, nearly bumping into Zoe.

  “Aren’t you going to read them?” she asked.

  “She hid them in the attic. Obviously they’re private.”

  She grabbed the flashlight and shone it on the bundle of letters. “Can I read one?”

  He was kinda curious, but it was his mom, which made it weird. “Go ahead.”

  “I’ll bet they’re love letters,” she said as she pulled the top one out. The blanket slipped off her shoulders and dropped to the floor. He slid a hand down her back, over her pretty ass, already thinking about taking her bent over the counter. Her voice came out soft, which made his cock pulse. “Gabe, please.”

  She was all softness—her curves, her voice, her soft brown eyes. It brought out something primal in him that made him want to both protect and dominate her.

  “One minute.” He grabbed the blanket off the floor and put it back on the bed, giving her a small amount of space.

  She read out loud. “Dear Allie, you’re all I ever think about…” She stopped and finished the letter reading to herself. A few moments later, she set the letter back on the counter.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  She turned. “It’s from Vinny.”

  He didn’t know what to make of that. It was strange those letters were hidden in the attic at his mom’s studio.

  “I guess I should’ve known,” he said. “My dad always called her Allison, not Allie.”

  She crossed to him and put her hand on his arm. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

  He slid his hands up and down her sides, reveling in her curves, inhaling her fresh strawberry scent. “You’ll sleep when I’m done with you.”

  “Yes.”

  He groaned and pulled her back to bed. “I’m so damn lucky I found you.”

  She kissed him gently. “Me too.”

  He rolled on top of her, intending to take things slow, but the minute he was buried inside her, he lost control, driving hard and deep. She met him stroke for stroke, arching up into him in the closest thing to heaven he’d ever felt. Emotion welled unexpectedly inside him. “I love you,” he said, surprising himself.

  She didn’t respond, merely panted because he couldn’t stop thrusting hard and fast, even with the “I love you,” so he lifted her hips to stroke her on the spot on the inside that always got a fast response.

  “I-I-Gabe!”

  That scream alone could bring him to orgasm, knowing he’d pushed her over the edge. He drove into her and his own release followed a moment later. He stilled, shaken by the depth of his own feelings. He raised his head. Her eyes were closed, a small smile on her lips.

  He kissed those smiling lips, pleased he’d made that smile happen. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

  “Mmm…” She was drifting off to sleep.

  He pulled out and turned her, spooning her from behind. He loved this position, her bottom cradling him. He pulled the blanket over both of them and then because he was still hard, he slid inside her and cupped his hand around her breast. She accepted the intrusion with a
soft sigh. Even half asleep, she pleased him, accepting him without protest. Her breathing deepened into sleep a moment later.

  She’d started to say it earlier. She’d said “I,” he reassured himself.

  “I love you,” he said again in the dark. The words felt right and at the same time worried him.

  Please don’t die, he added silently. The familiar fear got a hold of him as it often did late at night. His mind replayed his father’s death, Alyssa’s funeral with his overwhelming guilt, the lifelong empty part of him from the loss of his twin, and now Vinny dying. He held Zoe a little tighter. Nothing could happen to her. If anyone had to die, it would be him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gabe woke the next morning with a raging hard-on. He was turning into an animal consumed with his baser urges. Somehow in gaining control over Zoe’s body, he’d lost control at the same time. She’d rolled onto her stomach at some point in the night. Let her sleep, he told himself. He forced himself to turn away from her. With a herculean effort, he slipped out of bed, pulled on his briefs, and started the coffeemaker. It was Monday. He had client appointments and had to go back to work. He stood in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee, and his eye caught on the bundle of letters. Zoe had left the letter she’d read out, open on the counter.

  He took a quick look, not really wanting to read all the gory details, but still curious. It was a love letter from Vinny to his mom that ended with him pleading with her that three years was long enough to wait, that the kids could handle it. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized the awful truth. Vinny was the one that destroyed his parents’ marriage. Not his father. He quickly shoved the letter back in the envelope. All of these years, him and his brothers, Luke and Jared, had been so hard on their biological dad, so good to Vinny, when it should’ve been the other way around.

  He poured the coffee, drank it black, and fumed to himself. His father had died alone. His sons still turned against him. Even Gabe, who’d worked for the man, had always held himself at a distance.

  Zoe slipped her arms around him. He startled, so lost in his dark thoughts he hadn’t heard her get up. She wore a robe, and he immediately wanted to rip it off her. He wanted her naked always.