Wrong Bed, Right Guy

by Katee Robert

  The kitchen was painted a crisp lime green that offset white cabinets and appliances, and everything was immaculate. Either she never used it or she was a complete neat freak. “You cook?”

  She stopped in the doorway and shrugged. “Not really. I manage to screw up boiling water. Makes my mom despair at my ability to ever find a husband.”

  At least there was something she couldn’t do. The woman was enough to give any man a complex. Gabe wandered around the island and opened the fridge. It wasn’t completely bare—there was enough stuff to throw together a basic meal if he got creative. “Did you eat?”

  “You really are a mother hen. Yes, Gabe, I had dinner with Roxanne earlier. No, I’m not hungry. If you are, feel free to help yourself.”

  “You’re so cute when you’re patronizing me.” He closed the door and pointed at the Benadryl. “Dose yourself.”

  She laughed. She had a really nice laugh. “Unbearably overbearing.”

  “There you go again, kicking me when I’m down.” He waited until she took the meds and then cleaned out the little cup. “Now we can relax.”

  The living room was a nice surprise. He’d half- expected to find delicate ladylike furniture similar to something a grandmother would own, complete with doilies. Instead, there was an off-white sectional, huge and comfortable-looking. The television was a big screen, not as large as the mammoth one he had, but it wasn’t something he’d be embarrassed to own. When he shot her a questioning look, she shrugged. “My brother picked it out.”

  He moved on to the case holding her DVD collection. Typical chick flicks and artsy types, but at the bottom he struck gold. Rambo. Predator. Alien and Aliens.All the Terminator movies. Looked like the princess had a thing for action movies. “Don’t judge me.”

  “Why would I judge you?” Gabe ran his finger along the titles, finding more favorites. Die Hard. Demolition Man. Tremors.

  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying eighties action movies. They’re classics.”

  “You say that like I’m arguing with you.” Though obviously someone had—multiple someones from the way she automatically jumped on the defensive. “I happen to be into action flicks, eighties or otherwise.”

  She muttered something, and he finally tore his attention from the movies. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Elle sat, the very picture of innocence. She bit her lip when he pinned her with a look. “Okay, fine. I’m just kind of surprised we have something in common.”

  “We both like tattoos,” he pointed out. “It was bound to happen again eventually.”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it. There was that blush again, right on cue. “You’re just so…”

  “Sexy. Charming.” “Overwhelming.”

  He decided on Terminator 2: Judgment Day and stuck the disc in the DVD player. “This is one of my favorites.”

  “Mine, too.”

  There was hope for them yet. But he had no intention of letting this conversation end.“You say I’m

  overwhelming like you’re not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  Elle already had the remotes ready when he settled in next to her. She tensed up for half a second, but finally relaxed against his side. He wanted to put his arm around her, but Gabe wasn’t sure how she’d react.

  “Well, I’m not sure. It’s not like I expected this to happen when I crawled into bed that night.” She paged through the menu and started the movie, oblivious to her affect on him. “I mean, we’re just so different. Too different.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

  “I don’t have to convince myself of the truth. Look at me and look at you. God, that sounds so shallow, but you know what I mean. You hop around the West Coast, living the high life. I’m a freaking art curator for your brother.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “How can you even ask that?” She made a sound suspiciously close to a teakettle going off. “It’s pretty freaking clear in my eyes. And, yeah, I know I didn’t exactly give off the right impression when we, uh, met, but I don’t do stuff like that. Ever.”

  Gabe would have been blind not to figure that out for himself. No one wore crappy lingerie like that in real life, not to mention everything about her screamed sweet and innocent, even while she was coming around his fingers.

  And he really shouldn’t have let himself think that. “I’m asking you again, because you still haven’t given me a legit answer—what’s your point?”

  “My point is that you’re obviously used to a different kind of female. One who wants the same things you do. I’m not her.”

  He would have laughed if he didn’t feel like he’d stepped into the twilight zone. “You have some pretty hard-core ideas even though you’ve spent all of a few hours with me.”

  She went on as if he hadn’t said anything. “I like my life. It’s not exciting or anything, but it’s mine. I want to settle down and have a family.”

  Wow, she really had the wrong idea about him. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. The guy she described had been Gabe—a few years ago. He’d been wild, but even then he hadn’t partied like she seemed to think he did, and he sure as hell hadn’t banged his way through half of Spokane either.

  If he were going to be honest with her, with himself, he’d tell her that the life she just described was one he’d come to want more than anything else in the world in the last couple of years. But he couldn’t force himself to give voice to the longing that left him breathless.

  Besides, Elle obviously wasn’t ready to hear about his past—or his future. When she started to talk again, Gabe pressed his finger to her lips and went with something to lighten the mood. “That night? That was some seriously terrible lingerie, babe.”

  She gasped. “It was not!”

  “It really, really was.”

  “I’m not arguing with you about this right now, or ever.” She shot up, horror widening her blue eyes. “Oh my God! I forget to grab it before the cleaning crew showed upf!They probably gave it to Nathan days ago.” Her eyes watered and she buried her face in her hands. “If he finds out it’s mine, he’ll fire me for sure.” Gabe swallowed his guilt and spouted off another white lie. “They probably just threw it out. How about you just relax and stop thinking? Do you think you can manage that for one night?”

  “No, I can’t. It’s like you haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said.”

  Yeah, he had, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her being miserable after everything he’d put her through tonight. He pulled her hands away from her face. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  Her blue eyes were wide as she shook her head. “Not particularly.”

  Gabe took a deep breath. “Do you want me to move?”

  Again a pause, this one a little longer. He could almost see the battle between what she wanted and what she thought she should want. Finally, Elle shook her head again. Thank God. He didn’t know if he had the strength to move to the other side of the couch right now. This next question was harder, but Gabe couldn’t stand being this close and not at least asking. “Can I…hold you?”

  “If you insist.”

  She was already burrowing into him by the time he got his arm up and over her. Christ, this felt good. Her head settled perfectly into the dip of his shoulder, giving him a whiff of her shampoo. “See, I’m not so bad.”

  Elle rolled her eyes. “I never said you were bad— just different.”

  “Different can be good.”

  “I thought you said I’m supposed to stop thinking.”

  “Touché.” He could feel her smile against his chest. This was going to be one hell of a long night, but he’d known that going into it. One thing Gabe hadn’t even managed to hope for was to have her here on the couch and in his arms. With them cuddling like this, he could almost pretend this little slice of domesticity wasn’t just a fantasy. That he might really have a chance with Elle. “Get comfortable and let’s watch Sarah Connor kick some ass.
”

  After a brief hesitation, she slipped her arm over his stomach, her nails making his skin twitch, and gave a shuddery sigh. “Thank you for taking care of me, Gabe.”

  “Anytime, babe, any-freaking-time.”

  13

  Elle snuggled up against a warm chest. A warm, very naked chest. Doing a quick mental inventory, she exhaled slowly when she realized all her clothes were

  firmly in place, right along with Gabe’s sweatpants. Then again, why wouldn’t they be? It wasn’t like she blacked out last night or anything. Still, she couldn’t be too careful.There had been more than one close call in the bathroom, and that was while she’d been suffering from a nasty allergic reaction.

  Seriously, though, did he have to smell so damn good? And why was she lying on top of him? She turned her face into his chest and tried to pretend that she wasn’t totally sniffing his skin. Not creepy at all. Right.

  Gabe shifted and pulled her closer, one hand settling on the small of her back, and the other cupping her neck. Like he cherished her or something. She sighed and ran a single finger over his skin, tracing the jagged line that bordered the tattoo stretching across the side of his chest, up his neck, and over his shoulder. The gears and pulleys were so incredibly intricate, they were almost lifelike. It was beautifully done, nothing like the vulgar stuff she’d seen before, stuff that was more branding than art.

  What did Gabe’s work look like? A few days ago, Nathan had mentioned that his brother owned a tattoo shop along with the nightclubs, but she’d dismissed the information as irrelevant.

  Maybe there was more than one artist in the family. “You’re killing me, babe.”

  “I’m sorry.” She froze, her finger less than an inch from his nipple.

  “Don’t be.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m not.”

  She lifted herself up so she could see his face, but the move shifted her body so that his erection was suddenly pushing against her lower stomach. Oh wow. Elle froze, torn between the desire to get off the couch and the need to rock against his length. Good God, did the man have a soft spot on his body? Even with her on top, she felt delicate, feminine, and completely out of control. Elle trembled when his one hand slid down to cup her behind.

  He traced the thumb of his other hand over her bottom lip. “You really are gorgeous.”

  With him touching her like this, as if he really cared, she actually believed it was true. Even more than that, when Gabe said it, Elle felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. He must have seen something on her face, because Gabe pulled her up his body until his lips brushed her ear. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  At this angle, she couldn’t see his face, wasn’t sure she wanted to. Hell, Elle didn’t know what she wanted in that moment. No, that was a lie. She’d wanted this from the beginning, but her need had doubled after their shared shower. Her lips moved of their own accord. “Yes.”

  His teeth closed over her earlobe, just shy of actual pain. Gabe soothed it with his tongue and then kissed down her neck. “Because when you look at me like that, all I can think about is getting you naked and tasting every inch of you.”

  Oh wow. Wait, this was bad. She was supposed to be keeping her head around him. Right. She should get up. Or move. Or…something. “Every inch?”

  “Yeah.” His hand trailed up her back. “Down your spine.” Gabe flipped her so Elle’s back was pressed against his chest, his erection nestled against her bottom. She whimpered as both his hands dipped under her tank top, tracing over each place as he named it. “Around your hips and up your stomach.”

  He stopped just short of her breasts, his breath harsh in her ear. Elle thought she might scream if he didn’t touch her, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. He knew though. His palms were rough against her nipples, and she arched her back, needing more.

  “Gabe…”

  “You have the most perfect breasts, and these nipples just beg to be teased.” Too soon, his hands moved away, leaving her aching. “But, to tell you the truth, there’s only one place I want my mouth right now.”

  It wasn’t until he touched the waistband of her shorts that she understood. Again, he seemed to be waiting for her to…something. She had no idea. Elle couldn’t think beyond the all-consuming need to have him touch her there.

  With a curse, he slid one hand beneath the silk to cup her. She held her breath as he toyed with the edge of her panties before finally pulling them aside and then, lord, it was just his hands on her heated flesh.

  A single finger traced her opening and, despite every effort to stay still, Elle couldn’t help opening her legs a bit wider. Gabe pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his body shaking as his finger entered her. It wasn’t enough, and when he withdrew, it pulled a whimper of protest from her.

  Gabe’s voice was so low and hoarse, she could barely hear him. “Once I was here, I’d take my time. I’d taste you, play with you, and when I finally let you come, you’d damn near black out.”

  Spreading her wetness, he found her clit, circling it and then withdrawing, before starting the process again. Over and over, as if he had all the time in the world.

  Elle reached for him blindly, digging her nails into his upper arm. “Please.”

  He went still and she had the wild terror that he’d leave her like this, on the edge and nearly mad with wanting. But then he cursed again and plunged two fingers into her, using the heel of his palm to relentlessly drive her to oblivion.

  “Oh, God, Gabe.”

  As the aftershocks hit her, he gentled his touch until it was almost too much to bear. He slid his hand out of her shorts and Elle turned in his arms, needing to touch him. “Just let me hold you for awhile, babe. Please.”

  Hold her? “But…” She could feel the length of him through his sweats—this had been completely one-sided. Again.

  Gabe sat up with her in his lap and wrapped his arms more securely around her body. She wanted to argue, but the desire couldn’t hold out against the languor spreading through her body in the aftermath. It was too good to be tangled up in him like this, especially after what was one of the single most erotic moments of her life. It wasn’t a comfortable thought, but there it was.

  She didn’t know what to think about that.

  He was hanging on by a thread. Gabe stroked her hair and mentally went through all the reasons having sex with Elle right now was a bad idea.

  She was a good girl. After the time he’d spent with her, there was no getting around that fact. Obviously, the night they met was a fluke. Not one he regretted, but definitely not the norm for her. This wasn’t a woman who gave away her body without some intense strings attached.

  Then again, he wanted those strings, wanted them badly. Gabe shifted his hold on her, running his hand down her legs and back up again. He wanted this woman with a passion he hadn’t felt since opening his tattoo shop. It didn’t make any sense. Two people could not be more different—or bicker more. Not to mention the fact she seemed determined to think the worst of him.

  But, Christ, Gabe wanted to follow through on everything he’d told her he would do to her body. This chick had him so twisted up, he didn’t know which way was north anymore. Maybe it wouldn’t ruin this fragile peace they had going if he did it. They didn’t have to have sex. Hell, she didn’t have to do a damn thing except let him get her naked and go over her body for as long as he wanted to—which, at this point, would be hours.

  Fuck it, he was going for it.

  Gabe moved his hand down her leg again, this time rotating and coming up the inside of her thigh. Elle whimpered and spread her legs just enough that he could touch her through her shorts again. Well aware she might be overly sensitive after just coming, he kept it light, until she was making little movements, rubbing herself against him on the upstroke. He was pretty sure she had no idea she was doing it—and would have been horrif
ied if she realized she was.

  “Can I, babe?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, her lips just begging to be kissed. “Can you?”

  “Will you”—he pressed a kiss to each corner of her mouth—“let me do what I just described?”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip even as her hips kept up their steady movement. “Um…yes?”

  The bottom of his stomach dropped out.“Yes?”

  Elle nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. It was enough. He lifted her and set her on the couch, then slid backward, taking her shorts and panties off with him. Her face went crimson and she closed her legs, looking everywhere but at him. But she didn’t scream bloody murder and demand he leave her house, so Gabe kissed her knee, nibbling until she giggled.“That tickles.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He moved a little higher up her thigh and her breath hitched. It was slow going, but he wasn’t going to dive on her like a starving man, even if that’s how he felt right now. He nibbled and licked, each little sound she made unraveling his control further. Still, he held on. Finally, finally, Gabe settled between her thighs, right where he wanted to be. And, Christ, she was beautiful. Perfect.

  The first swipe of his tongue earned a moan so loud, he was glad there was no one else in the house. It was his last thought before he gave himself over to the glory that was Elle. She trembled underneath his mouth, her body so responsive to his every touch that he wondered if anyone had done this for her before. The thought of being her first in this sent a possessive rush through him. And even if his wasn’t the first mouth on her, he’d make damn sure she’d never forget about him.

  Elle’s hands crept into his hair, tentative at first, as if she thought he’d protest. When he sucked on her clit, her hips jerked and her hands held him in place, demanding more.