Wrong Bed, Right Guy

by Katee Robert

  She hadn’t.

  Elle finally broke the moment by shoving the peas back against her face. “Can we go, please?”

  “Yeah, sure. My bad.” Gabe dumped everything into the cashier’s lane and tapped his foot as the teenager rang everything up. The kid moved so slow, Gabe was tempted to toss him aside and do it himself.

  “I need the peas, ma’am.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, Elle handed them over. He wasn’t sure, but Gabe thought her skin was a little less red. Either that or it looked less red because red covered every inch he could see. It was hard to tell in this light. “We should go to the hospital.” Why hadn’t he thought of that first? It was the logical thing to do.

  She accepted the peas back from the kid. “We’re not going to the hospital.”

  “You could go into anaphylactic shock—”

  “Gabe. Stop.” She actually reached out and put her hand on his arm. Every muscle in his body jumped to attention, which was damned inconvenient at the moment. For her part, Elle didn’t seem to notice his pants fitting him a bit tighter. “I’m really going to be okay.”

  “Are you sure? Because it’s no trouble to get you there.” He mentally mapped the route—ten minutes, tops. Sure, they might break a few traffic laws along the way, but what was that compared to Elle’s safety?

  “I’m fine. Promise.” She held out her pinkie. When Gabe just stared, Elle reached down and hooked his pinkie with hers, giving it a firm shake. “See. We’re good.”

  Who the hell pinkie swore after grade school? He wasn’t even sure he’d done it in grade school. Shaking his head, he paid for their stuff and walked with her back to the car. It wasn’t until they were both inside, the motor running, that he realized he had no idea where she lived. “Where am I headed?”

  She flipped down the visor and checked her face in the mirror.“I think the swelling’s going down—you can just drop me at my car.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You’re seriously not going to let this go, are you?” “Are you surprised?”

  Elle draped the peas back over her face and sighed. “No. Take 395 North. Hatch exit. First right and then another right. Third house on the left.”

  It seemed easy enough. Gabe exited the parking lot and drove north. Night had fallen completely while they were inside, and there was something relaxing about leaving the city limits. For half a second he considered continuing on the highway and going to his house, but he nixed the idea—Elle would be most comfortable in her own home.

  Following her directions, he found himself in one of the many suburbs that were scattered at the northernmost edge of Spokane. At least in this one the houses weren’t crammed together, each sporting a decent front yard—and backyard, if the size of the fences were any indication. His headlights coasted over Elle’s house as he pulled into the driveway, revealing it to be a cheery yellow. There was even a hanging pot of flowers on the porch.

  Somehow, Gabe wasn’t surprised. He put the Camaro in park and wondered what his life would have been like if he grew up in a house like this. Different. Really different. It was the kind of life he wanted for the future, for the kids he’d recently decided were part of the plan. Christ, but he was so tired of the aching loneliness that was eating him alive.

  11

  Having Gabe in her home felt…odd. Elle rolled her shoulders, trying to scratch without actually scratching. What she needed was a shower, but she didn’t particularly want to leave him wandering around her house, taking up too much space. She scratched the inside of her elbow and froze when he focused on the move. “You aren’t better.”

  “It takes a while for the Benadryl to kick in.” But the reaction wouldn’t stop for good until she had this crap off her skin. “You want to watch some television while I jump in the shower really quick?”

  His gaze skated over her, so intense it was as if he’d run his hand down the front of her body. Okay, wow. Maybe she needed to take a cold shower. Like, now.

  “Living room is that way.” She waved at the doorway behind him and backed toward the stairs.“I’ll only be a minute.”

  Gabe shadowed her retreat. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  Oh lordy. “I’m not alone. You’re here.” She motioned at the front room as she started up the stairs. “I mean, not here-here, but in the same house. If my throat starts closing, I promise to scream for help.”

  “If your throat starts closing, you won’t be able to scream for anything.”

  His words shouldn’t make her think of sex. They really shouldn’t. But, seriously, could anyone blame her? Here he was, stalking her up the stairs toward her room, and she couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d been in a bedroom together.

  No. Bad idea. Really bad idea. “Stop.” She held up a hand.

  He didn’t stop walking until her hand rested against the middle of his chest. With her standing a stair above him, they were almost the same height. “I don’t need to be in the shower with you, but I’m not leaving you alone until you’re past this reaction.”

  “You’re being paranoid.” Her voice came out breathy and low. Crap. Elle made an effort to sound normal. “And where, exactly, do you plan on waiting?”

  Gabe grinned, the wolfish expression making the breath stall in her lungs. “The bathroom, of course.”

  “Of course…”

  She wasn’t sure how he did it, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the bathroom counter and Gabe was taking off her heels. “I really like these, by the way.”

  “Oh.” Elle watched him unhook the second shoe, carefully sliding it off her foot. She could just imagine how he’d stand and pull off her shirt, then move on to each article of clothing until she was naked, all while using the same gentle touches. She shivered, trying vainly to keep her toes from curling.

  “Are you okay? You aren’t having a seizure, are you?”

  For a second she thought he was teasing her, but there was nothing except concern in his dark gaze. She pushed to her feet before she convinced herself that his stripping her was a fantastic idea. “I…” Her words trailed off at the look on his face, eyes gone nearly black with something like need.

  Elle found herself holding her breath, waiting to see what he’d do. Would he insist on continuing to help her? God, what if he took her right here on the bathroom counter? She bit her lip, another shiver racking her body.

  “Are you cold?” There was no mistaking the fact that Gabe knew exactly what the source of her shiver was. He braced his hands on her hips, his chest brushing against hers. “Elle, I asked you a question.”

  He had, hadn’t he? “No, I’m not cold.”

  “You need to get into the shower.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  His hands coasted up over her sides, taking her shirt off in a smooth move. As he tossed it to the side, Elle tried to come up with a protest. But what was there to protest? She wanted him to touch her more than she wanted her next breath. Gabe didn’t keep her waiting, tracing a single finger over the pink lace of her bra. “I like this better than your shoes.”

  What was she supposed to say to that? “Thank you.”

  Gabe moved back down to her skirt, undoing it carefully, the draw of the zipper unnaturally loud in the bathroom. Was she really going to do this? It was undoubtedly a mistake. A really big one. But, with her body practically quivering with need, Elle suddenly didn’t care.

  He went to his knees and helped her step out of her skirt. Then Gabe sat back on his heels and just looked at her. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  It didn’t mean anything. Words were less than worthless—easy to throw out there, even easier to take back. Oh, but how she wanted him to mean them, though. Elle bit her lip, waiting to see what he’d do next.

  Finally, Gabe reached down and covered her hand with his own. Elle blinked. She’d been scratching without even realizing she was doing it. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.
“You need to get this stuff off your skin.”

  “You’re right.” She took a step back and her knees buckled. Gabe caught her easily before she fell. The heat of his hands on her bare skin felt so good. Too good. She didn’t want it to stop. Which meant she really needed it to stop. Elle steadied herself on his shoulders.“ Jeesh. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “You’re having an allergic reaction and are doped up on meds. It’s understandable.” He stood and, keeping an arm around her waist, leaned into the shower to turn it on.

  “What are you doing?” Elle watched, wide-eyed, as he took off his shirt. Whoa, those were some serious muscles. And, sure, she’d felt them the night they were together and had started painting them—not that she’d ever admit that—but they were so much more real now.

  Not to mention all the tattoos. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the odd mechanical one taking up half his chest and arm. Gears and pulleys, it looked like. The bottom part of it traced the top of his abs, drawing her attention south. Good God, his body was overwhelming. She wanted to lick the edge of that tattoo, explore its intricacies with her mouth.

  His hands went to his pants and her jaw dropped. “Gabe…”

  “Relax.” He shot her a surprisingly playful grin. “I’m not going to take advantage of you in your moment of weakness. But I don’t want you collapsing and hurting yourself.”

  She should probably argue, but then his pants were off and Elle couldn’t focus on anything but his thighs. Wow. Just…wow. The black boxer-briefs molded to his body perfectly, leaving little to the imagination, and she couldn’t help but notice how turned on he was. Gabe turned to test the temperature of the water and she actually whimpered at the sight of his butt.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Yes. No. Maybe? All Elle knew was that her ability to resist touching him was fading fast. She sneezed.

  “Come on, babe. Let’s get you cleaned off.” He yanked back the curtain enough to step in and pull her in after him. Immediately, Gabe moved aside and shifted her under the water. It couldn’t have been all that warm for him with the one shower head, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he nodded at her shower caddy. “Soap?”

  Elle handed him her body wash and tried really hard not to notice how the water had plastered his already-tight underwear to his skin. God, the man was temptation personified. For his part, he seemed all for keeping his word to not take advantage of her. While she was trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, Gabe soaped up his hands. “Arms.”

  He moved from one to the other, his big hands sliding over her skin. First her arms, then shoulders, bypassing her breasts to her stomach. Each touch had the heat at her core winding tighter until she was almost panting with need. Then he was on his knees in front of her. Again. Elle bit her lip as she watched him, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if washing her were the most important thing in the world.

  Once her legs were clean enough for his satisfaction, Gabe paused, hands on the outside of her thighs. Guess he’d finally noticed the fact the water had made her panties and bra darn near transparent. She could almost feel the stroke of his stare as he moved forward until his breath ghosted over her skin.

  Would he kiss her there? Did she want him to? God, this had nothing to do with want. She needed him. Elle was already wound so tightly, she was half convinced that a single touch would send her spiraling over the edge.

  But Gabe didn’t touch her.

  He blew out a breath and pushed to his feet.“You should be good now.”

  Good? There was nothing good about this. Except…

  He’d kept his word. Even when it had to be painfully obvious of how much she wanted him to break it. Elle moved so he could turn off the water and then accepted the towel he offered.When he pointedly looked the other way, she stepped out of the tub.

  Gabe cleared his throat. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Yes, okay.” She nodded, eager to put some distance between them before she did something unbearably stupid, like throwing herself into his arms and begging him to make her come again.“Let me see if I can find something that will fit you.” Hopefully the task would keep her distracted long enough to calm down her hormones. Elle was pretty sure she had a pair of Ian’s sweats stashed somewhere in the back of her closet. She headed for her closet, trying to ignore the devastatingly sexy half-naked man in her bathroom.

  God help her.

  12

  Gabe was not going to masturbate in her shower. He leaned into the spray and turned the water colder, hoping it would kill his raging erection. The way Elle had eye-fucked him while he soaped up her body really hadn’t helped with his control. As it stood, he was hanging by a thread. He waited until he couldn’t stand the freezing temperature before he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

  He had almost thrown caution to the wind and ripped off Elle’s panties. Really, who would have blamed him? She’d been so close, her body shaking beneath his touch, everything he wanted right there in his face, practically begging for his mouth. If he’d licked his way down her stomach, she wouldn’t have stopped him. No, if her response was anything to go by, she might just have urged him on.

  But he’d promised he wouldn’t take advantage of her, and it had become vitally important to him that he keep his word to this woman.

  Gabe grabbed a fluffy pink towel off the rack and cursed himself. He was a grown-ass man—he could be in the same room with Elle without tossing her onto her back and banging her brains out. At least he could as long she kept those control-unraveling looks to herself.

  He opened the door slowly, wanting to give her plenty of time to hear him coming. “Elle?”

  “In here.”

  Following the sound of her voice across the bedroom, Gabe peeked into a walk-in closet. The damn thing was filled to the brim with all sorts of chick crap, but somewhere along the way she’d found a pair of raggedy sweats and was holding them up proudly. But he had eyes only for her. She wore a tiny pair of pink shorts with a drawstring that just begged for him to undo.

  Damn it, he needed to focus on something else.

  Gabe dragged his gaze up, but he never made it to her face. The white tank top was borderline see- through and he couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing a bra. Why the hell wasn’t she wearing a bra? Hadn’t the shower been enough of a test—one he’d passed with flying colors, thank you very much? This woman was obviously trying to kill him.

  With a Herculean effort, he focused above her shoulders. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail. Between that and her fresh-scrubbed face, Elle was the very picture of the girl next door. More like the wet dream next door.

  “Um…you’re staring.”

  He couldn’t help it, nor could he help noticing she seemed to like his eyes on her body. Gabe cursed as he grabbed the sweatpants out of her hands and hurried back to the bathroom. It was rude, but the peace between them was too fragile to ruin because his dick was making a tent of the stupid pink towel. He took his time dressing, helped along by the fact the sweats were too small. Old and gray, they obviously weren’t hers.

  So whose were they? An ex-boyfriend’s, maybe kept for their nostalgic memories? Yeah, he didn’t like that idea. He kind of wanted to wear them home and then have a bonfire in his backyard—not the most well adjusted plan, but he liked it.

  By the time he’d dressed, he had his physical reaction under control. Still, it was going to be a long-ass night with her prancing around in those cute little booty shorts. Before he could make it back into the bedroom, a faint ringing came from the pile of his clothes on the bathroom floor. Who the hell was calling him right now? Not Nathan, that was for damn sure. Gabe fished his phone out of the clothes on the floor. “Hello?”

  “We have a problem.”

  He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Lynn.” If the new G.M. of the L.A. club was calling him, it’d have to be a big problem. She wasn’t the type to nee
d hand-holding. “What’s going on?”

  “Like I said, we have a problem. That douche you fired? He’s threatening a lawsuit if he’s not compensated.”

  Christ, this was the last thing he needed. “He was skimming off the top. What judge is going to rule in his favor?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care. He wants to talk to you personally.”

  “He’s got my number.”

  “Yeah, well, he wants a face-to-face meeting to discuss things.”

  Gabe watched Elle stack some folded blankets on her bed. He shut the door and lowered his voice. “I’m not flying down there like some fucking dog he’s called to heel without talking to him first. Give him my number if he doesn’t have it already.”

  “I thought you might say that.” She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Lynn.”

  “You can thank me with a raise, sweet cheeks.”

  He laughed. “You keep this thing running smoothly and it’s yours.”

  “I’ll remember you said that.”

  He hung up and walked back into the bedroom.

  Elle gave an oddly shaky smile. “Problem?”

  “Just some work stuff.” Stuff he didn’t want to think about with her standing there, looking so adorably sexy. “You have any movies?”

  She blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

  Duh. Of course she had movies. Everyone had movies these days. Christ, the longer he was around her, the stupider he sounded. Gabe cleared his throat. “Might as well watch one. I don’t think either of us is getting much sleep tonight. And you need another dose of meds.”

  Elle rolled her eyes, but she didn’t bother to argue. He followed her down the stairs, taking the time to examine his surroundings—and keep his eyes off her ass. The pale carpet and paint should have created a washed-out vibe, but instead they seemed to be created solely to frame the bright prints lining the walls. Gabe recognized several different local artists he’d seen in Nathan’s gallery, people who did everything from portraits to landscapes to abstract. Somehow she’d managed to meld them together so they didn’t appear chaotic. He approved.