She hoped it would have the same effect on Gabe.
Catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she realized she’d spent the whole day at work with a contented smile on her face, which had drawn a few comments from coworkers about her exuberant mood and the glow on her skin. She had Gabe to thank for both. The shimmering, relaxing aftereffects of the incredible orgasm he’d given her last night had lasted through the night and into the day. Hell, she was still riding high on the rush of satisfaction, and feeling even more sexual and wanton than she ever had in her entire life.
She decided she loved being able to openly express what she wanted and desired. Her newfound boldness felt liberating and exciting, and she knew from Gabe’s numerous reactions that he enjoyed her brazenness, too. She’d always traveled the safe path of being a good girl, letting the few guys she’d slept with over the years take the lead in the bedroom, which had resulted in her getting left behind in the orgasm and pleasure department.
Not this week. Being naughty was on the agenda, and she was going to reap the benefits of embracing her femininity, as well as treating herself to the effect Gabe’s pure masculinity had on every one of her five senses.
Leaving her hair secured in the topknot on her head and damp tendrils curling around her neck, she padded barefoot into her small living room to set up tonight’s seduction. Fantasies came in all shapes and forms, and tonight’s request was solely for her gratification and enjoyment…and Gabe’s, if he had a foot fetish of any sort, she thought with an amusing grin.
She turned her stereo system on low to a soft-rock station and set up the coffee table in front of the couch with the accessories Gabe would need to pamper and pleasure her. While she worked, her mind and thoughts drifted back to last night and what a good sport Gabe had been about everything, considering she’d been the only one whose desires had been fulfilled. Unfortunately, his touch had an addicting effect on her, because she craved more caresses. More of him.
The realization startled her on a deeper, emotional level, but she was convinced that it was all a matter of getting him out of her system—sexually, physically extricated from the deepest recesses of her heart. Once she had her way with Gabe and had accomplished that goal and he returned to Chicago to resume his own life, she’d be able to go on with hers. In the meantime, she’d tempt and tease and seduce him, and drive him crazy with wanting her this time.
She brought out the fragrant cinnamon oil from the bedroom and added it to the other sensual items on the table, which included the smooth, sleek vibrator she’d purchased at a friend’s naughty lingerie party a few years ago.
She wasn’t done making Gabe suffer for leaving her hot and bothered six years ago. Tonight was all about building tension and stoking the flame of hunger that burned bright in his eyes. Tomorrow evening they’d graduate to a darker, more forbidden fantasy of hers, one that would require Gabe to be just as adventurous and daring. She shivered and liquid heat settled low in her belly at the thought of where that particular fantasy would lead.
Switching off the lights so that the only illumination in the living room came from a lamp beside the couch, which added to the cozy, romantic atmosphere, she headed into the kitchen and poured two glasses of wildberry wine. She’d already enjoyed one serving during her bubble bath, which accounted for her current relaxed state.
Just as she set the drinks on the coffee table, a brisk knock echoed through her condo. With a leap of anticipation catching in her chest, she went to the door, opened it, and found Gabe leaning a broad shoulder against the jamb with his thumbs tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. His stance was a bit cocky, all confident male, and he literally took her breath away.
His slow, lazy gaze traveled down the length of her, taking in her silky chemise and bare legs. “You certainly don’t look dressed for a night on the town,” he drawled.
Amused, she lifted a brow even as a hot ache of awareness suffused her entire body. “I never said we were going out tonight.”
He thought about that for a few brief moments. “No, I guess you didn’t,” he agreed, meeting her gaze with a sexy-as-sin grin curving his lips. “I suppose I need to stop making assumptions.”
“Yes, you do, because one of these times you’re going to end up very disappointed.”
“I haven’t been disappointed with you yet, but definitely surprised a few times,” he murmured huskily. “Which is a good thing. I like a woman who keeps me guessing.”
And so far, nothing between them had been predictable. Which she liked, as well, because her life, thoughts, and choices had been too sensible and practical for much too long.
Acting on the same impulse that had driven her since his arrival back in town, she grasped his muscular arm and tugged him inside. Shutting the door behind him, she entwined her arms around his neck and pressed her body against the scorching heat and unyielding hardness of his.
“Did you think about me today?” she asked, her voice dropping to a low, sultry pitch.
His nostrils flared at their intimate position, and his eyes turned hot, like burning blue embers. He settled his big hands at the small of her back, keeping their lower bodies aligned. “Only every second of every minute of every hour since dropping you off last night.”
“Good answer.” She inhaled his delicious male scent, and resisted the urge to bury her face against his throat, to taste his skin with her lips and tongue. Instead, she threaded her fingers through the soft hair curling against the nape of his neck. “I was a bit more disciplined at work, but then I stopped at a lingerie boutique on the way home and everything about the shop made me think of you.”
A frown pulled at his dark brows. “Whoa. I refuse to cross-dress, if that’s what you have in mind for tonight.”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry, seeing a man wearing my bra and panties doesn’t do a thing for me.”
He visibly relaxed. “Thank God,” he muttered.
A genuine smile replaced her laughter. “I meant that while I was trying on various teddies, camisoles, and chemises at the boutique I couldn’t stop from imagining the way your hands would feel against the silky, satiny, lacy material, how the fabric would caress my skin with decadent heat and friction.” She let her lashes flutter closed and whispered near the corner of his mouth, “Rub your hands across the material, Gabe, so I can see how luxurious and sexy the silk and lace feels against my bare skin.”
His large, flattened palms obeyed, skimming the small of her spine and gliding upward in firm strokes to where the back of her low-cut chemise gave way to smooth flesh. Her nipples peaked against his chest, and a purr of pleasure escaped her throat.
“That feels so, so good.” She sighed.
“Yeah, it does,” he agreed.
Hearing the gruffness in his voice, she blinked her eyes back open, noting the tight restraint clenching his jaw and feeling the thick, hard ridge of his sex pulsing against her lower belly. The poor man…did he have any idea he was in for another long, torturous night of sexual advances and provocative suggestions?
She continued with her seductive monologue. “And the scents they offered in sprays, lotions, and oils…well, the selection was absolutely incredible.” With her hand cupping the back of his neck, she brought his head down to her arched throat. “See how good this smells. I bought this scent specifically with you and me in mind.”
He pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled slowly, lingeringly, seemingly savoring the alluring fragrance clinging to her skin. “It smells hot and spicy. Like cinnamon.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” He drew another deep breath, and she shivered as gooseflesh rose on her arms, her belly, her breasts. “Would you like to taste the flavor of the oil I bought to go with the spray?”
He lifted his head, a lopsided grin on his lips. “Oh, man, tell me you dabbed some on your breasts, your thighs, your stomach.”
He sounded so aroused, so desperate to taste her, she couldn’t contain her grin. “I rubbed some of the
oil on my lips, but in a little while you’ll be rubbing it elsewhere…with my permission to sample anywhere you’d like. But for now, a kiss will have to do.”
The length of his body shuddered and he lowered his head, catching her mouth with his in a soft, slow, sexy kiss that increased the wanting curling within her. His tongue stroked and teased her full bottom lip, and his teeth nibbled and ate at the sweet, hot flavor clinging to her tender flesh. His hands started to wander, gliding down her back, smoothing across her bottom…then his fingers caressed the back of her thighs, where the lace-edged hem of her chemise ended.
With a rush of exquisite pleasure making her legs tremble, she grabbed his wrists and pulled them away before he could venture into more intimate territory.
He dragged his mouth from hers and feigned a guileless look. “Did I do something wrong?”
She shook her head to reassure him. “I’ve got something very unique and exciting planned for tonight, and I don’t want it over before it even begins.” Lacing her fingers through his, she led the way into her living room, then made him sit down in the spot she’d cleared on the coffee table between her props and accessories. “There’s something I’ve fantasized about for a very long time, and you’re just the man to give it to me.”
“I like the way that sounds,” he said with an indulgent grin underscored with sexual promise. “What would you like me to do?”
She settled onto the couch across from him and braced her feet on the edge of the table between his spread thighs…right against the crotch of his jeans. “I’d like you to give me a pedicure.”
He stared at her wriggling toes, dumbfounded by her request. Then he shook his head, hard, and met her gaze. “A pedicure?” he repeated incredulously.
The disbelief on his face nearly made Chloe laugh, but she managed to maintain an air of complete seriousness. “Actually, I went to a salon on my lunch break today and had the pedicure done, so my heels are smooth and my toenails have been trimmed and buffed. But I left them unpolished so you could paint them for me.”
“Chloe…” He shifted uneasily, which caused the pads of her feet to brush against the enormous hard-on straining the fly of his jeans. He sucked in a swift breath and jammed his fingers through his thick hair, his expression uncertain. “I don’t know anything about painting a woman’s toenails.”
“There’s nothing to it, really,” she told him. “And considering you’re obligated to cater to my every wish and desire, I’m not really giving you a choice in the matter.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, cautiously. “If it turns you on, then who am I to argue?” He rolled his shoulders and glanced to either side of him, quickly taking inventory of the feminine products she’d set out for him to use. “Umm, where do I start?”
“First, you can hand me a glass of wine, and the other one is for you.”
He passed her one of the drinks, but didn’t touch the other glass. “I don’t think you want me painting your toenails under the influence,” he said wryly.
She laughed lightly. “I just thought it might help you to relax.” Taking a sip of the fruity wine, she reclined more comfortably against the couch cushions. “The best place to start is by painting my toenails, and from there you can massage my feet and rub oil on my skin to make it soft and supple. And don’t forget about using the vibrator over there,” she said, motioning to the left side of him.
“A vibrator?” he croaked, obviously having missed that prop during his first glance. But he saw it now, a thick, eight-inch towering phallus designed to bring a woman all kinds of erotic pleasures.
His breathing deepened, and when his gaze met hers again, the depths were filled with smoldering desire and hunger…just as she’d hoped. She swallowed and found her own voice. “I find it’s great for relieving excess stress and relaxing tense muscles.”
He braced his hands on his taut thighs and quirked a brow her way. “What muscles are we talking about here, sweetheart?”
“The ones in my calves, my thighs…” She let her voice trail off so he could draw his own conclusions, then shrugged. “Wherever you think I’m too tense.”
He stared at her intently, accepting the silent dare she’d just issued with one of his own. “And you’re going to let me be the judge of that?”
“Absolutely.” She took another drink of wine, knowing she’d just given him free rein to use that vibrator anywhere and anyway he wished—which was all part of tonight’s seduction and her ultimate pleasure. “But you need to paint my toenails first before we get to the massage part.”
He rubbed his hands together in preparation. “Then let’s get started.”
Over the next few minutes, she instructed him how to insert the prefabricated foam piece between her toes to keep them separated so the enamel wouldn’t smudge, and pointed out the soft shade of pink for him to use. With her right foot wedged tightly between his thighs and tipped at an angle for him to paint, he carefully, slowly, stroked the pale color onto her little toe, and worked his way from there.
His hand was amazingly steady, and his gorgeous face was a mask of intense concentration as he applied the first coat. There was something incredibly sexy about a big, virile guy like Gabe treating her feet and toes with such reverent attention and care. Only a man secure in his masculinity would agree to such a feminine task, and she couldn’t help the smile that appeared at that thought, or the sweet, sentimental warmth that invaded empty places in her heart and gave her an emotional jolt.
Startled by that deep, intimate reaction, she took another long drink of wildberry wine and sought to redirect her thoughts to something more conversational and ordinary.
“Tell me about your life in Chicago,” she said.
Finished painting the toes of her right foot, he placed her arch against the edge of the table next to his hip and tucked her other foot between his leg and began the same process again. “What do you want to know?”
His nonchalant tone told her he was open to discussing anything with her. “Do you enjoy living in Chicago?”
He dipped the small brush into the liquid paint and swiped it across her big toenail in three quick, precise strokes, leaving behind a perfectly glossy sheen of enamel. “I think I’m accustomed to living there, if that makes any sense.”
“Because that’s where you went to college?”
He nodded and finished coating her middle toenail, his attention riveted to the task. “Yeah, that had a lot to do with my decision to stay.”
But there was more, and she felt compelled to scratch below his superficial answer. “You could have returned to San Diego once you’d graduated.”
“With my football career over and my future so uncertain, I couldn’t bring myself to come back.” He glanced up, honest emotions glimmering in his eyes and his expression revealing nuances of a deeper pain she didn’t fully understand.
Then, he explained. “I felt like I let so many people down. Myself, my mother…” His rough voice trailed off, and he redirected his gaze and attention back to her pedicure. “I just wasn’t ready to come back to San Diego to face family and friends…and my own failure.”
She caught the surprising layer of insecurity woven into his casual tone, which struck a reciprocating chord in her she didn’t want to feel. “I’d hardly call you a failure, Gabe,” she said softly. His incredible achievements as a sports agent proved just how successful he’d become.
Finished with her second foot, he braced it against the opposite side of the coffee table, so that her feet bracketed his hips and the hem of her chemise fluttered between her thighs. “When you don’t and can’t attain the goals you’ve had for years, the only word that described what I was, was failure.”
She was surprised to hear the self-condemnation vibrating in his voice and realized that she was seeing a more complex side to Gabe she’d never known existed. A part of him he’d obviously kept hidden from everyone beneath a durable facade. And now, he’d just given her a glimpse of something personal,
private, and very painful for him.
She’d always regarded Gabe as strong and determined and confident. Always sure of himself, and never allowing anything negative to shake his resolve and ambition. He’d survived his father’s abandonment when he was just a young kid, had made the best of the poverty that had become his way of life in the aftermath of that desertion, and had spent his teenage years struggling to be something more than a high school dropout.
He’d achieved so much to be proud of, yet his accomplishments were underscored with a personal anguish he’d carried with him internally, in deep, dark places no one could see or touch. And now, for the first time ever, he was sharing that emotional depth with her, letting her past external barriers to glimpse the multifaceted man he was, instead of the shallow cad she’d pegged him to be since that night six years ago when he’d seduced her, and then walked away without looking back.
Which made her question once again all his reasons for returning to San Diego and apparently making it his mission to pursue her. As an unsettled conquest from his past, or something more? The thrilling, hopeful possibility caused her heart to skip a beat.
No, no, no, her mind screamed. She wouldn’t go that route with Gabe, not when she knew how easy it would be to fall for him again—only to experience more hurt and heartbreak. Nope, it wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t trust her feelings, didn’t completely trust him with her emotions when he could tug on them so easily, so effortlessly. She was far safer keeping her thoughts grounded on their bet, enjoying any and all illicit pleasures, and getting him out of her mind, body, and soul.
Clearing the tight knot that had gathered in her throat, she transferred her gaze to her freshly painted toenails. “Nice job,” she complimented.
I Love Bad Boys Page 13