Liberating Mr. Gable

by Tuesday Embers

  “I woo my landlords so they let me stay with them rent-free.” He put on his best seductive smile that turned into a genuine one when he saw a rosy hue creep into Etta’s complexion. “See? It’s working already.”

  “Knock it off. You know I’m an easy mark for blushing.” She tried to scrub the pink from her cheeks. “Seriously. You’ve got to give me something. I told you everything horrible in my life. At least give me the basics.”

  His answer came out slow and carefully worded. “I work in production in a warehouse right now, but I freelance a lot.”

  “Mm. Papa said my father drove a forklift in a warehouse about a hundred years ago.” She chewed as she thought. “Tell me about your family.”

  Anson shrugged. “Not much to tell there. I don’t really know or spend time with my older two half-siblings. Chase is younger, and a mooch, so he stops by every now and then. My mom and latest step-dad are still together, but I’ve never understood why. They loathe each other. How she is with all her husbands. Kinda scared me away from the whole institution of marriage.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “So, that’s me, I guess.”

  Etta took another bite of the quiche and phrased her next query as nonchalantly as possible. “What about the sweating and shaking you were doing when I first met you? And the handwashing?”

  Anson appraised Etta before answering. His stare was calculating, as if he was gauging how much she could be trusted. “I have social anxiety. Sort of like agoraphobia, but with people. I don’t like crowds or strangers.”

  Etta’s compassion swelled in her soul as she listened. She placed the pie plate on her nightstand and lay down with her head on her pillow. She patted the pillow next to her to indicate that he should do the same.

  Anson obeyed, and when he did, he was rewarded with Etta reaching out and clutching onto his hand. The two strangers lay facing each other, holding hands with their knees touching together. “Why don’t you like strangers or crowds?” Etta whispered, her face a breath from his.

  “I couldn’t begin to explain it to you. But running off like I did was a big deal for me. I never take time off. I never leave LA. I haven’t been on a plane since I was a kid. I go to work, and then I stay in my house. I don’t do much else, if I can help it. When I do, I have to be on meds.” He looked guiltily at her. “I tried to stop taking them. Thought the vacation would cure it, but you saw me. I look like a junkie.”

  “What are you on?” Etta inquired.

  “Right now?” Relief bloomed on Anson’s handsome face. “I’m trying to get off my meds. I usually take five pills a day just to be functional. Since coming to your house? I’ve taken one today.” The joy of finally being able to utter those words he worked so hard to make true was uncontainable with a mere grin. He squeezed Etta’s hand and scooted closer to her. They were two kids in their cave, and he was grateful to be invited into the safety of her fort.

  Etta beamed at him. “That’s good! See? Vacations must be good for you. You’ll have to schedule one more often.”

  Anson shook his head, and then gazed at Etta in a way that made her squirm under his wholehearted adoration of her. “It’s not the vacation. It’s you.” He brushed the brunette locks away from her face, so she could not hide the pleasure she felt at his confession. His thumb traced the crest of her lower lip, his own parting at the study of hers. “Etta,” he breathed.

  “Y-Yes?”

  “I want to kiss you, but I want your first kiss to be something you want, too. Could I be your first real kiss? Would you want that?”

  So many things swirled inside of Etta in that moment. Years of regret over the life she spent not living. The handful of cute boys that came through that she had not the courage to talk to. Cooper’s territorial markings that felt anything but romantic. “Yes, but I don’t really know how. I mean, I’ve only ever been kissed by Coop, and I mostly just freeze and pray for it to be over quick.”

  Anson chuckled, a lazy smirk spreading over his features. His arm looped around her and drew her body flush with his. “Well, I can guarantee you, this will be better.”

  Her eyes darted around nervously before settling on his handsome face again. “I might be a really bad kisser,” she gusted out in a rush. She felt the need to warn him, so he could know what he was getting into.

  “I can be patient,” he promised. “Relax.” His fingers traced the outline of her face as if she were made of silk. “Do you want to kiss me?”

  Etta nodded dreamily, happy to be captive under his spell.

  Anson surprised Etta by rolling himself on top of her, propping his weight up on his elbows, so as not to make her feel trapped. “Do you want me to kiss you here?” He brushed his full lips across hers, enjoying the longing mixed with trepidation in her expression. He pulled back to gauge her reaction. “You have to answer me, Etta. I won’t do anything you don’t tell me you want.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Um, yes.”

  “Yes, what?” He resumed his glorious tease.

  “Please kiss me, Anson.”

  Instead of leaning in to seal the deal, Anson tucked his arm under her back and lifted her slightly, so her chest was elevated and her head lolled back on the pillow. It was a test to see if her body was as willing as he wished it to be. “Do you want me to kiss you here?” he asked, dipping his nose into the crook of her elongated neck. He could feel the thrum of her heartbeat against his cheek as he pressed his face to her throat. “Etta?”

  “Yes! Please, yes!”

  Anson smirked into her creamy flesh as he began to sew kisses along her collarbone. “How have you gone your whole life without this?” he wondered aloud. “Look how your body responds to me.” He demonstrated his point by sucking on her neck, enjoying the way she could not help but writhe beneath him. “How is it possible no man has discovered how incredible your skin tastes?” He switched to the other side of her neck, eliciting an unladylike moan from the girl in his arms.

  He had done this plenty of times with a wide assortment of females before his neurosis took over. But with the other women, it was a job, or a race to the finish line, not a slowly dripping candle, like it was with Etta. He aimed to savor every bit of her that she offered up to him, to make recompense for all the kindness she had shown. He had never been a girl’s first kiss before. At thirty-two, Anson did not expect that opportunity to present itself in the form of a beautiful woman.

  He sucked on her shoulder. He nipped at her neck. He suckled her collarbone. He licked tender spots on her throat. He pressed his mouth to her chin, and finally, his lips hovered above hers.

  “Anson,” she whimpered softly. “Please!”

  “Please, what?” Anson took in the scope of her unconcealed lust for him. “What is it you want, Etta?”

  “Kiss me, Anson. I want you to kiss me.”

  He smiled lovingly down at her besotted state of want and need. So young, and so adult. In truth, he could have teased her willing body for hours, building up the craving until neither of them could harness the fallout. But there was something about the pleading way she uttered his name that crumbled his plan for her undoing. Anson Gable forgot that he did not like contact. He forgot his anxiety. In her presence, Anson Gable lost himself completely as he delicately pulled her lower lip between his, closing his eyes as he granted her a truly perfect first kiss.

  * * *

  Part Two

  Want

  Anson pulled back to gauge Etta’s reaction to the first kiss she had long waited for. Her eyes were closed and lips parted with the ghost of a smile touching them. Anson relaxed in the glow of her enjoyment. “Etta?” he whispered, tickling the shell of her ear with his lips.

  Etta’s response was a whimper, which he took as a good sign. He brushed his lips to hers again, gratified when she responded in like rhythm. The slow embers that stoked their passion caught fire and lit them both ablaze with the intensity of their combined heat. He had been careful with her, but she made it clear
with her fingers tugging his hair that she would not be so gentle with him.

  She knew next to nothing about him, yet one kiss from his sculpted lips ignited everything inside of her she just assumed she had been born without. Her best girlfriend Chloe often spoke of men in salacious ways that Etta thought was mostly to shock people. But now, as her hands grew a mind of their own, Etta could not tame the beast Anson awoke in her.

  Deeper he drove the kiss, and she matched his efforts with the very best of hers. He pressed her down into the mattress with his hard body, no longer able to maintain the distance he assumed was necessary to ease her into his ardor. He could not remember the reasons for his agoraphobia. He could not recall much of his life before this adorable creature was writhing under his spell. For all the world, Anson could not believe the string of odd circumstances that led him to Etta. To her bed. To her side. His fingers laced through hers to remind them both of the tenderness necessary to maintain such a strong connection.

  When Anson could take no more, he pulled away from her zealous lips, trailing heat-laced kisses down her body.

  “Anson! What are you doing?” she cried out, body arching off the bed.

  He had never loved the sound of his own name. In fact, over the years, he began flinching when he heard it. It had been associated with so many unsavory things. Hearing sweet Etta shout it in the throes of passion did things to him that he could not have predicted.

  Taking her raucous exclamations as the green light, Anson sucked on the dip in Etta’s hip as he unfastened the top button of her jeans. The creak of her zipper coming down alerted Etta to the fact that everything she was participating in was light-years out of her comfort zone. “Wait!” she begged, the frenzy of the moment giving way to panic. “Wait a second! I don’t think I’m ready for that!”

  Without hesitation, Anson pulled away, displaying his hands in surrender. “No problem.”

  Etta’s chest heaved unsteadily. “I didn’t mean we have to stop altogether. I’m just not… It’s kinda fast for me. Could you come back up here?”

  Anson was glad to still be welcome in her bed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

  Etta answered in between kisses. “Well, you nearly carried me away with you. Too good looking.” She bit at his lower lip. “Too enticing. Too seductive.” She followed his example and kissed a line down his throat, enjoying how his body responded to her advance. “Anson?”

  “Whatever you want, the answer’s yes.” His eyes were closed as he inhaled the scent of her.

  “I want to see you. Could you… could you take off your shirt?”

  He opened his eyes to peer down at her, pretending to scold her boldness. “And I thought you wanted to slow down. Clever girl. Just a ploy to get me naked first.” He smirked at her reaction as he tugged his green t-shirt over his head. His career was built on having an able and sculpted body. He had no qualms about baring his well-toned chest for her. It was one of the few times he actually wanted to show off his chiseled form. The gasp that erupted from her swollen lips made his chest swell with pride. “Like something you see?”

  Etta’s focus was entirely captivated by Anson’s firm midsection. She could not even think to kiss him, so entranced was she by his larger than life muscles. Cooper was decently built, but the lust that swelled in her at seeing Anson half-naked was a new experience. Chloe talked about various men with six-packs. She gossiped about different tenants she had made out with, but Etta knew even Chloe’s wildest conquests were nothing compared to the wonder that was Anson shirtless.

  “May I?” she asked tentatively.

  Anson chuckled as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly, giving them both a break from the fervor. “Sweetheart, I think I’ve made it clear that you can have anything you want from me.”

  Etta forsook making out to run her fingers along Anson’s chiseled torso. Mouth agape in awe of the beautiful man, her hands took on a mind of their own. Unskilled and unplanned, Etta stroked every inch of his bare skin while he did his best to allow her to run the show.

  “You,” Anson rasped, “are playing a dangerous game, little girl.” He opened his eyes to look down at her and saw that her eyes were starting to shift from unbridled lust to the beginnings of panic. He looked down at her bashful demeanor and softened. “Relax, little duck. We’ll go slow.”

  “Little duck?” she inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

  “I like it better than honey.” He brushed his nose against hers. “If anything gets to be too much, just say so, and we’ll stop.”

  “That’s my problem. I don’t think I’ll want to stop.”

  Anson kissed her, erasing her protests and bending her insecurities to his lust. If there was any doubt left as to how much Anson wanted her in that moment, it melted away under the heat of his gaze. Anson did not disguise his lust. His eyes combed every inch of her body. When his lips migrated to her neck, he sucked hard on a sensitive spot he knew would drive her wild.

  “Jiminy Cricket!” she cried out, her inside voice being cast aside in the heat of the moment.

  Despite himself, Anson snorted into her sternum, pulling away from her tantalizing body to shake his head. “You can’t say things like that when I’m trying to seduce you!”

  “I’m sorry!” She smacked her forehead, embarrassed at her antiquated colloquialism. “You just surprised me. No one’s ever… It’s a brand new experience for me.”

  Keeping eye contact, he lowered his head, gazing up at her through his dark lashes as his lips dragged across hers. “Is that better? Does that relax you?”

  Etta responded by raising her chin to deepen the kiss, pulling him down atop her so she could savor the flavor of Anson.

  Anson’s muscles banded around Etta, cradling her body as they reveled in the connection that was new to both of them. He stared up at the ceiling as he moved to lay on his back with her in his nook, right where she belonged.

  “See? I knew there had to be a flaw on you. Thank goodness. You were getting to be too perfect. It’s unnatural,” Etta teased, running her finger up and down the small scar on his hip. “I love you shirtless. If I had my way, all the Ansons of the world would be shirtless.”

  He kissed her cheek tenderly, as if she was an unattainable, elite duchess meant only for admiring from afar. “I’ll send out a note to the others.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, leaning closer to hold as much of her as possible, rolling on his side so he could look at her. “You’re safe, little duck.”

  Etta’s chest moved against his, calming and exciting them both. They lay on their sides, reveling in each other’s breath of relief. They had finally found the connection they both craved. Time had no meaning as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes while talking about nebulous things one should know about the person sharing their bed.

  Anson held his Etta, stroking her back until he felt her limbs loosen in his embrace. He tucked her head under his chin, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. The fragrance was intoxicating. Anson traced the curve of her right hip, wondering how he got to be so lucky.

  The Learning Curves

  “How are you feeling?” she inquired from her place of contentment in his arms. He hadn’t looked like that dodgy man she’d picked up in the snowstorm in a while.

  Anson chuckled. “I’m happy. Grateful. Don’t know how I got so lucky. I should forget to make reservations here more often.”

  Etta shook her head with a smile, her head lying on the pillow next to him. “Now, now. One day soon I’ll have this place up and running. During the summer we get so booked, you have to make reservations two months out.”

  “Noted. What if I wanted you all to myself?” he asked, lounging lazily on her bed without a care in the world.

  Etta glanced out the bedroom door across the way to the dining room, noting how much work was left to take care of before she could have real renters. “That might be more possible than you think. I’m way behind on the repairs.” She held up her cast as a visual aid.
“This set me back a few weeks.”

  He sat up on his elbows and kissed her, sighing contentedly against the lips he could not imagine being parted from. She felt so safe to him, like nothing else mattered. Life would come and the world could break, but here in Etta’s bed, nuzzling her neck as she squealed at the ticklish seduction, he found his harbor. “Why don’t I give you a hand?”

  Etta pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t know privileged boys knew much about home repairs.”

  “Ah, see that’s where you’re mistaken. Rich kid means Mommy and new Daddy have plenty to do that does not include spending time with you. But the contractors, who were always brought in to make the old shack ‘more presentable’, didn’t mind letting the rich kid play with a hammer every now and then.”

  “What a resourceful little boy you must have been.”

  He rolled on his stomach so he could access the tender flesh of her neck more easily, dragging his lips down the graceful slope just to feel her shudder again. “Tell me what you need.”

  Etta struggled to think clearly. The inspector left her a list that she posted on the fridge, checking one item off every now and then when she finished a project. “Um, the dining room was trashed.” She let out a contended utterance when he kissed below her collarbone. “It’s so sensitive there. I never noticed before.”

  “I bet you’ve got all sorts of sensitive spots, just begging for me to discover them.” To demonstrate his point, his lips the inside of her wrist, sucking lightly to draw out a moan. “What else needs fixing?”

  Etta ignored his query as her lashes fluttered shut. “So good.”

  “One day soon, Etta Loretta, I’m going to get you naked and have my way with you.”

  Etta’s eyes opened wide with concern. “There’s something you should know.” She waited until he stopped sucking on her wrist to make sure he was listening. “I’m not having sex until I’m married. It’s how Papa raised me. I know it’s not the sexiest thing I could say right now, but I don’t want to lead you on. This is as far as I can take things.”