by Leigh James
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
He grinned and laced his fingers through mine. “Are you hungry? Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes to both. I’m starving, and being around you makes me want wine.”
He furrowed his brow. “I hope that means it’s because you feel like you can relax around me and not the opposite—that I’m driving you to drink.”
“You’re not.” I smiled and enjoyed the feeling of our hands twined together, even though it was utterly foreign to me.
He’s finally holding my hand. He pulled me up, and we went into the house, his hand never leaving mine as he led me through the enormous living space. It had high, wood-beamed ceilings, rustic chandeliers, a huge stone fireplace…everything wonderful and expensive and masculine that I could imagine. It suited Gabe perfectly.
The kitchen was open to the living room, with a view of the mountains throughout the entire space. I looked out at the darkening sky. “It’s so beautiful.”
I turned to find him watching me. “Yes, it is.” He handed me a glass of wine, and I took it gratefully.
“Cheers to our partnership,” I said, and for the first time, I meant it. When I’d accepted his invitation to accompany him home, I’d made a choice about him. That felt good, because making a choice meant I retained some control. Sitting there in his kitchen, I realized that I did trust him, or at least I was starting to. For the first time in days, some calm started to seep into me.
“Cheers to our partnership, and cheers to Your Highness, the reigning queen of the biotech industry.” He grinned, knowing he was pushing my buttons.
I sputtered, indignant. “I beg your pardon—”
Gabe laughed. “Oh, is Your Highness going to give me a pardon now?”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Definitely not.”
Gabe clinked his glass against mine. “Cheers to you finally gracing my home with your presence. I like having you here.”
“It is pretty nice,” I admitted.
“Nice is good, remember? Your sister said you should keep practicing on me.”
“Ha-ha. I know I’m not very good at it.”
“Practice makes perfect. You’re smiling and you’re having wine. That’s a good place to start, especially after a rough week.”
“It has been a rough week…I think that’s why the wine seems like such a good idea. It’s been a lot to deal with.”
“It’s definitely been a lot. For the record, I think you’ve handled it well. You’re very brave.”
My nerves were getting the better of me again. “Well, I came out here to your bachelor lair, so I guess I am.” I took another sip of wine. He was driving me to drink after all.
He put out a tray with olives, cheese, and bread. It looked delicious, but my appetite for food had disappeared. Gabe came around the island and stood in front of me. My heart started hammering in my chest. I looked at him, searching his eyes for a sign of what he wanted…to see if he wanted what I wanted.
But I didn’t actually know what I wanted, or I couldn’t articulate it. There was just a wild desire, coupled with a fear of the unknown, coursing through me.
He leaned over me, his fingertips trailing down my cheek, his brown eyes not leaving mine. I took one last shaky breath before he kissed me, slowly, on the lips. Shockwaves rippled through me when his lips touched mine. It was different from last night, underscored by a sensation I’d never felt before—tender, needy, with a dangerous undercurrent lurking beneath the surface. I was going to get swept away by this inevitable force of nature I’d stumbled across, this man who had somehow flipped the switch and finally ignited my hormones.
He parted my lips with his, his tongue entering my mouth carefully. I didn’t even know what the hell I was doing, but I kissed him back. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him, breathing hard, unsure how I was breathing at all with his mouth on me like that. Our tongues connected, and I pressed my body against his, relishing the feel of him…strong, powerful, and utterly male.
With him aroused and pressed hard against me, I felt as if I’d won something.
His chest heaved as he deepened the kiss, pulling me against him and making my world go fuzzy around the edges. He fisted the back of my hair then groaned, pulling away.
I looked up at him, lips parted, breathing hard.
His eyes were glassy. “We need to stop.”
“Why?” I asked, a little wildly, and he started to laugh.
“So I don’t try to take you right here, right now, on the table. I want to do this right. I had plans.” He caressed my face again, and I felt worried. Had I been going too fast? Had I done something unscripted that was technically wrong?
He must have been able to read the look on my face because he immediately wrapped his arms around me. “I am such a lucky bastard to have you here. You’re perfect, Lauren. Jesus. You are perfect and brilliant and beautiful and sexy. And I want you. Do not doubt it. Not ever.” He leaned down and kissed me again, pulling me closer.
We came up for air, and I looked up at him, something akin to a conscience stirring inside me amidst all the heat. Dynamica was Paragon’s first-ever partner, and here I was, making out with its CEO. “Are we making a mistake by doing this? Are we screwing this up?”
He kissed me lightly. “I don’t think something that feels this good—this inevitable—could be wrong. But I only know what I feel. And that’s that I wanted to have you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve wanted to have you, and I’ve wanted to protect you.”
He stopped and laughed for a second. “I think it’s some sort of biological urge kicking in, I swear. I wanted to crack Clive Warren’s skull in that night I saw you with him. Like I was some sort of caveman.”
“You should have done it.”
He smiled at me. “I’m still going to do it.”
I smiled back, but since we’d stopped kissing, I felt restless. Should I go? Should I kiss him again?
This was another example of the downside of being myopic about your career. I had no idea what happened next.
Gabe poured us both more wine. “Why don’t I show you my room?”
I laughed a little, reddening, all thoughts about leaving going up in a cloud of smoke. “Is that a line?”
He held out his arm to me. “It’s most certainly a line. Is it working?”
I accepted his arm and walked with him. “So far, so good.”
We wandered down a hall to another part of the house, separated by a sliding barn door. He opened it to reveal the master bedroom, which had an enormous four-poster bed, Oriental rug, and a roaring fire.
I peered around, baffled. “This is a bona-fide bachelor lair. How is there already a fire in here?”
“I punched a button in the kitchen.” He grinned at me. “My tech is showing, isn’t it?”
I grinned back at him. “A little.”
He sat on the bed and patted the space next to him. I sat down and took another shaky sip of wine. This was it. I was in Gabe’s room, on his king-sized, four-poster bed, a fire roaring in front of us. It didn’t get much more intimate…except I had a feeling that it was about to do just that.
I took a deep breath and somehow found the courage to say what I didn’t want to say…what I’d always thought, in the back of my mind, I would never need to say to anybody. I hadn’t thought it would ever come up. “Gabe, I—”
“Hey.” He wrapped me in his arms, cutting me off. “It’s okay. I already know.”
I sat there, stunned. “You know?”
He nodded into my hair. “We don’t have to talk about it, not unless you want to. In which case, please continue.”
Panic started to overtake me. “Does everybody know? Is that one of the things you all talk about—Lauren Taylor, the workaholic, orphaned, recluse virgin?”
Gabe laughed and held me tighter, soothing me. “Uh—no. No one’s ever talked about you like that. Not to me anyway. How would they know?”
He shrugged against me. “I just do, from what you told me. You’ve been so intense about Paragon for so long. I know you haven’t had much of an outside life. When we met, you seemed so nervous around me physically—skittish. You’ve been keeping me at arm’s length. I just…put it together.”
I groaned. “Tell me how you knew.” I wanted a more precise answer, even though I was only torturing myself.
“I could tell. Just like I could tell you probably didn’t eat meat, just like I could tell you were going to like having dinner with me way more than having dinner with Clive Warren.”
I didn’t buy it. “Did my sister say something to you?” That had to be it. I was going to kill her, and maybe cut her up into tiny little pieces afterward to make a point.
“Not in so many words. She just said that I needed to take it slow with you. She worries about you. That’s all. She didn’t out you.”
I frowned, still thinking. “Could you tell from the way I kissed?”
He started to laugh, until I tensed against him, and he saw the look of horror on my face. “Hell no. You kissed like my personal spirit-animal sex goddess.”
“Stop making fun of me.” I could feel my face turning crimson. “This is bad enough as it is.”
He gently stroked my face. “I’m not making fun of you. Kissing you made me hard. You got me hard just from a kiss—you can’t really ask for more than that, babe. Trust me. That means you’ve got the goods.”
Curious, I leaned over and kissed him again. Partly because I wanted to prove to myself that I could, and partly because having him so close made me crazy.
The urgency was back between us, stronger this time. He worshipfully ran his hands down me. I wished I still had on that dress and sexy underwear from the other night, but my boring outfit didn’t seem to be dampening his enthusiasm. Our tongues tangled together, and I fisted the back of his hair in my hands, thrilled to finally be touching it. It was thick and coarse. He pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him. I could feel his arousal against me. He grunted, positioning himself so his thickness was pressed against my belly.
“What do you want?” That was probably a stupid question, but I’d never been in this situation before, and I was a naturally curious person. I liked to lay out all the steps in front of me.
He smiled and it was as if the sun was coming out. “I want to take your clothes off, babe.” He stroked my hair again, pulling me even closer. When we kissed this time, I felt the oddest sensation, as if I wanted to pull him through me.
“If you want me to stop, just tell me.” He cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
“What exactly do you want to do to me?”
“You’re a biomedical engineering genius. I’m sure you can figure it out.” He kissed me deeply, and I felt that riptide again, a force beyond my power taking control of me. “I want to do all sorts of things to you. I told you—I have plans.” He pulled back, making me dizzy. “But hurting you isn’t one of them. So tell me if something’s making you uncomfortable. Promise me.”
“I promise.” My voice came out wobbly.
We kissed again, and he pressed his body against mine, nudging me back onto his bed. He pulled off my sweater and my skirt. I was almost naked, breathing hard, filled with a longing so fierce, it made me ache between my legs. He put his fully clothed body on top of mine, and I could feel all of him—his muscles, his arousal, his weight. I wanted him so badly, I felt as if I were going to burst.
“Oh my God.” He cupped my breast with his hand, stroking me through the filmy material of my bra. “You’re so beautiful.”
I wanted to ask him why he thought that, what about me, exactly, he found so beautiful. But I decided, for the first time in my life, to keep my mouth shut. I was just going to experience this. I could, and most definitely would, analyze the hell out of it later when I was alone.
But at the moment, I couldn’t even analyze. I could only feel. My body lit up under Gabe’s touch. He tore off his shirt, and I could finally run my hands down his smooth skin, marveling at the ripped muscles that sculpted and crisscrossed his body. The contrast of his smooth skin and his hard body drove me wild. He unhooked my bra and shoved it aside. My nipples beaded immediately, pressing against his muscled chest. Oh my God. The sensation of skin against skin made me tremble.
He put his arms on either side of me, and I ran my hands appreciatively down his biceps. I had never seen muscles that big, let alone touched them, and I sucked in a breath as I contemplated their power. While I ogled him, Gabe took one of my nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking it greedily. Pleasure spread through my body, making me cry out as I arched against him, breathing hard.
He moved up and kissed me again—a deep kiss that almost made me feel drunk. Then he cupped my other breast with his large hand, his tongue drawing lazy circles over my nipples, making them tingle exquisitely under his tongue and fingers.
His hot kisses trailed down my body toward my underwear. I started to squirm with more than desire as unwelcome discomfort and embarrassment crept in. He slid my underwear down gently at first, caressing me through the thin material, sending sparks of pleasure through me. Then he pulled them off quickly, as though he couldn’t wait. A pleasured sigh escaping him once I was completely naked.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.”
He put his hands between my legs, fingering the soft folds. I was wet. I was also afraid and embarrassed, but his touch trumped both. He gently rubbed me, moving his hand up toward my clitoris. I held my breath as he gently explored me, his thick fingers rubbing me in small, luxurious circles. His strokes became firmer until I lost all feelings of self-consciousness and just writhed beneath his hand, dizzy, lost in the rhythm of his touch.
Then he put his mouth on me there.
“Gabe,” I cried out, shocked.
He sat up between my legs, looking at me with an expectant smile on his face. “Yes, Lauren?”
“Uh…What…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t know what to say.
He rubbed my clit with his thumb, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. “Let me taste all of you. I’ve wanted that since I first saw you.”
I answered with a moan. The riptide was taking me out, and it felt so good that I no longer gave a flying fuck about anything else.
He put his mouth back on me, right on my clit. He sucked on it gently, then with more urgency as I relaxed against him. I heard myself cry out as he flicked his tongue against me, then his whole mouth covered me as his tongue worked intensely over my most sensitive spot. Ripples of heavy sensation crashed over me. He grabbed my ass and lifted me up, his tongue lapping me and taking charge of my pleasure. He licked my clit again and again until I was almost crying, begging him. I didn’t even know what I was begging him for.
He slid his finger gently inside me, and I bucked against him, wanting more. He put in another, filling me, and finally, something in me let go. He put his mouth back on my clit, sucking me, while his fingers pressed inside me, plunging in and out.
The combination of sensations pushed me over the edge.
“Gabe!” I cried his name as the orgasm hit me, dragging me under and bringing me back up, my body convulsing and shaking underneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure broke over me, my body completely out of my control. I ran my hands over his spiky hair as my body shuddered under his mouth. I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t stop coming—and I finally understood what that word meant, and why it was the perfect word. It was as if I’d finally arrived.
He gave me another luscious, worshipful kiss between my legs, then moved up beside me, cradling my limp body against his. I could feel him, still in his jeans, hard against me. My body felt reborn, but the depth of the orgasm had completely wiped me out.
“Sleep,” he whispered, as the exhaustion that had been threatening me for days finally took over. “And thank you.” He kissed the side of my
face possessively.
I drifted off, safe and content in his arms. “For what?”
He rubbed his face against mine, and I could feel his stubble. “For choosing me.”
I turned to him, an exhausted smile on my face. “I don’t think I had a choice.” I’d been kidding myself about that. There was no way in hell I could have stayed out of his bed, kept denying the fact that I wanted his hands on me.
The twinkle was back in his eyes. “Then thank you for accepting that.”
He kissed me again, and something stirred deep in my belly, in spite of my exhaustion. I ran my hands down his chest to his jeans, which I started to unbutton.
He put my hands above my head and held them there, grinning at me. “You need to rest.” He said it even as his erection pressed against me, throbbing.
“But what about you?” I whispered hotly, even though I wasn’t only thinking about him. That ache was back between my legs, yearning for him.
“I’m good,” he said. “And I told you, I have plans.”
“Are you going to let me in on them?”
His smile turned wicked. “Come back to me soon. I just might.”
Chapter 9
I watched the sun rise, breaking over the top of the trees. I’d seen that same view from my office many times, but it had never looked quite as beautiful as it did morning. I paced, feeling restless, remembering the feel of Gabe’s hands on me.
I’d woken up early and taken a quick shower. Gabe slept, his face peaceful, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He must have felt me staring at him—he suddenly sat up. “You’re staring at me, aren’t you?” He rubbed his half-open eyes. “I told you that was rude.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. I wanted to say thank you.” I waited until he stopped scrubbing his hands across his face and appeared to be listening. “I think I’m going to lie to Clive for now. Tell him that I’m entertaining his offer, just to buy myself some time.”
Gabe sat up a little more. “You’re going to call him?”
I nodded. “I’m still thinking everything through, but I know I need more time.”