He grinned again, and her eyes fell to his lips. “Good to hear,” he said. “Anyway, want to know what the absolute best camera is?”
“What’s that?” Gabe reached into his pocket, and Bex laughed. “Your phone?”
“The best camera is the one you have with you.” He tapped the screen. “May I?”
She gave a mischievous smile and flashed a fake model pose, pouting her lips and making big eyes at the camera. Gabe snapped a picture, and she fell back against the couch cushions, laughing. He snapped again. The secret to photography was to wait until people thought you’d stopped taking pictures. That’s when the magic happened—when people were unprepared. When they were real. And at the end of the day, all he wanted was something real to hold on to.
Bex pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes still smiling. “Sorry, you must think I’m ridiculous.”
His voice came out like a confession. “I think you’re beautiful.”
She blushed deeper, and the air grew charged. “You may have thought I was the one sweet-talking the bartender, but I’m pretty sure you’re the one with the smooth words now.”
He shook his head. “Look.” He aimed the camera at their faces, the two of them crowding into the screen with his olive complexion next to her light skin, his black hair next to her fiery locks. He snapped another picture.
Bex sucked in a deep breath. “We look good together, don’t we?”
“We do.”
Gabe lowered the phone and turned his face to her. She was just an inch away, with her nose pressed against his and the air filling up with the smell of oranges. He was already hard for her, just hearing the tiny sounds she made as she breathed. “Ah, god, Bex, I’m going to need to kiss you.”
She held his gaze like a dare, and her mouth curved into a smile that he could feel more than see. “I’m going to need that, too.”
Gabe closed the inch between them and buried a hand in her hair to draw her to him. He claimed her mouth, desperate to taste her, needing to quake the thirst inside him.
Bex’s lips were soft and yielding, and when he pressed his lips to hers, she moaned against his mouth. He parted the seam of her lips with his tongue, and she opened for him, letting him draw languid tastes of her tongue as he slipped inside her heat.
Bex moaned again, this time shifting her dress up her thighs so she could straddle him on the couch. Gabe’s head tipped back against the cushions, and her hair fell like a curtain around them as she followed with her mouth, kissing him so breathlessly that he couldn’t breathe either. It was just the two of them in this room, Las Vegas out the window like a distant blur. Just a backdrop. The real show was inside, where Bex’s hands roamed over Gabe’s body, tracing the contours of his shoulders and his neck, tugging gently into his hair so everything from his toes to his lips stood at attention. Including one very happy member.
Bex smiled as she felt him hard between her legs, and she ground onto him, spurring him on. Her breath came out in sweet puffs, and he groaned, grabbing her ass to pull her down harder against him.
This time her eyes fluttered shut. Gabe smiled and bucked his hips higher, letting her writhe herself into a frenzy on his cock. “You feel so good,” she cried.
“That’s nothing, sweetheart.” His hard-on strained against the fabric of his pants. Dress slacks had seemed like a good idea when he picked them out tonight—so totally club-appropriate—only now they restricted him, pulling against him almost painfully. Italian-milled twill, his ass. He might as well have been wearing burlap for the way they chafed.
He needed out of these clothes. She needed out of that dress.
Gabe wrapped his hands lower and cupped Bex’s ass, then lifted her and climbed to his feet, still holding her. She was almost as tall as him, but light. Her eyes flew open, and she giggled as he walked backward toward his bedroom.
“That’s the most beautiful sound,” he said.
She pouted. “But you haven’t heard me come yet.”
Good god, this woman. “I will.” This was exactly what he needed tonight—to get out of his head and into his body. To let the stress of the past weeks give way to a night of unrestrained pleasure.
Gabe lowered Bex to the ground, her bare feet landing on the soft carpet leading into his bedroom, and there in the hall, it was too hard to wait.
He dropped to his knees, his nose around her waist. He nuzzled her stomach and dropped his mouth lower. Then he took the hem of her dress between his teeth and nudged it higher, exposing her creamy thighs and a scrap of sheer fabric that exposed her perfectly-waxed skin.
“Jesus Christ, Bex. You didn’t expect me to be able to make it into the bedroom once I discovered this underwear, did you?”
“Like what you see?” she demurred.
“Love it.”
He leaned forward, trailing a hand up her inner thigh. Bex leaned against the doorframe, and her breath sucked in. Gabe slipped a finger just under the edge of her thong, tracing a line down her hip, lower and lower over her smooth skin. Her underwear was already wet for him, like his perfect kryptonite.
“Touch me,” she begged, and he obliged, circling a finger gently over her clit. Her hips ground against him, and she arched her back into his touch.
“How’s that?” he asked, resting his chin on her stomach so he could look up at her. Bex’s eyes were half-closed, her mouth rounded in an O.
From here it was a very good view.
“That’s incredible. It would be better if I was naked.”
That was one thing they agreed on. Gabe tugged at her underwear, shimmying it halfway down her legs, but she bucked in impatience. “Tear it off.”
“If you insist.” He ripped the fabric from her with a swift snap, and then she was naked and pink and waiting. He plunged forward, his tongue on her clit before he could stop to think about anything else.
“Fuck,” he groaned against her. “You taste so good.”
She moaned, lifting a leg and wrapping it over his shoulder to give him more access. “Oh my god, Gabe, that feels amazing.”
“Good,” he growled, teasing her with his tongue. “You deserve to feel amazing.” There was no way he could keep talking and keep tasting her, and right now her pleasure was the most important thing in the world. He breathed her in, licking and sucking, tracing the goddamn alphabet over her clit to find the touch that would send her over the edge.
C was an epiphany, her leg over his shoulder tightening and pulling him closer. Gabe smiled and continued his barrage. D sent Bex spiraling higher, moaning his name. E was excellent, her breath coming in little pants, the world spinning down to his tongue on her skin, her salty-sweet taste, her hands in his hair.
And F. F for finger. Well.
He pushed his middle finger in up to the first knuckle and Bex’s legs spasmed. He steadied her with his free hand, holding the back of her thighs to keep her upright.
She was lost to his touch, her eyes closed now and her moans filling his apartment.
“I’m going to come,” she panted, and Gabe continued, his fingers beckoning inside her, his tongue tracing F for fantastic, F for fuck, F for finally. “Oh my god—” she moaned, and her legs stiffened and then her inner muscles captured his fingers, pulling him deeper inside of her hot, wet tunnel. Her climax sent more blood to his cock. It was a wonder he could even think, even function, he was so fucking hard for her.
Gabe propped his chin against her stomach until she opened her eyes and grinned at him.
F for finger. All right then. He withdrew his hand and wiped a damp trail on her thigh.
“Okay, gorgeous. That was just the warmup.”
Chapter 3
Bex’s heart pounded as she looked down at Gabe, whose hand still rested on her thighs. His eyes were hooded with arousal, and she could see the erection straining to be released from his pants.
His very thick, very hard erection that she’d writhed against, much to her satisfaction. She pressed her lips together and smiled. �
��Thank you.”
He grinned up at her. “You’re welcome. And I stand corrected.”
“About what?”
“Well, now that I’ve heard you come, that really might be my favorite sound.”
Bex laughed and scraped her hands through his hair again. This time she tugged, bringing him to his feet. Gabe stepped into her space, and she shivered with anticipation.
An orgasm from a stranger on the first attempt. This was not the standard practice. Normally it took a while to find a rhythm with a new partner, and she didn’t usually keep lovers around long enough to bother to try. But it was like she and Gabe had skipped the getting-to-know-you part and jumped right to the good part, and somehow it was just as good as she’d ever had.
Actually, it was better.
Gabe’s hands landed on her hips, and his eyes darkened with desire. He pressed a kiss on her neck, on the soft spot just under her ear, and she sagged back against the doorframe. “Oh my god, you’re making it so hard to stand.”
“Good,” he whispered. “Like I said, we’re not done yet.”
“Mmmm.” Now that she knew he could deliver, she would happily stick around for round two.
Gabe traced a finger over the life line on her palm and then wrapped his hands around her wrists, tugging her gently into the bedroom. She followed him inside with a gasp, her eyes caught by the beauty of the room itself.
Bex had spent enough time in enough strange beds to know when a man was just an overgrown college boy looking for a good time. But Gabe’s room was neat and responsible and adult, with just a hint of edge. A dark gray comforter draped over his bed, and crisp white sheets stretched across its king-sized mattress. Stacks of books dominated a bedside table made of reclaimed wood. The one on the top was titled The Little Things: Tiny Facts About a Giant World, and not only was the cover lovingly creased, the pages were also dog-eared. A bookshelf was crammed with more novels and decorated with vintage cameras. Everything about the room made Bex feel like a little kid who’d just cracked open a piñata full of candy. Had this man shown up at the club just for her?
A giant photograph hung over Gabe’s bed—a black and white image of the cherry trees in Central Park, their fluttery petals a soft contrast to the structured buildings in the background.
“More New York, huh?” Bex asked.
“Born and bred.”
She smiled at him. “I didn’t hear an accent.”
“That’s probably for the best. Get me really drunk and who knows what’ll happen.”
“I like what’s happening so far tonight.”
Her hand was still in Gabe’s, and when he pulled her closer, she tipped against his chest. He tilted her chin and whispered, “Me too,” before brushing his lips against hers.
This kiss was long and searching, a thing that started slow and hot and ignited so quickly that Bex was already on fire before she could help herself. Fresh moisture slicked the inside of her thighs, and she reached for the hard muscles of his back.
Fuck—the man was built like a statue, all marble slabs of honed muscle. She could probably bounce a quarter off his ass. She grabbed it just to be sure.
Yep.
Solid.
Spectacular.
Dammit.
Gabe seemed to speak her secret language, and that wasn’t the stuff of one-night stands. Bex pulled away ever so slightly, and Gabe gripped her hips and drew her back to him like he was afraid she would slip away. But if she was honest, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not tonight, not now. Even if the force of her desire scared her.
Gabe had stripped all her inhibitions, left her half-naked and fully aroused. She reached for the zipper of her dress, unzipping it and shucking off her bra.
“You are so beautiful.” Light from Gabe’s windows spilled into his room, and it was just his bedside lamp and the moonlight on their skin. She felt beautiful and frantic and alive.
Gabe slid the back of his fingertips across her collarbones, then lower, over her breasts. He circled his expert fingers over her nipples and tugged gently, rolling them into peaks. Then he leaned forward and flicked his tongue over her right nipple while he cupped her left breast. His tongue grazed her sensitive skin, all damp heat and suction, and she gasped.
“That feels so good.”
“That’s the point,” he murmured against her.
“But it’s your turn.”
“Honey, we’re not keeping score.”
Still, he let her lead him to the bed and push him back onto it. He lay there, fully clothed, the black fabric of his shirt opened at the collar and his dark eyes on hers, pulling her, holding her. Bex was locked into place—into this moment—and no matter how much she wanted to struggle against it, she couldn’t resist the way her body craved his. She didn’t want to resist.
She reached for Gabe’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. Her eyes widened as she studied the exhibit of perfection in front of her. She’d seen plenty of naked men, so why was this one so different? Why did it feel like he had part of her wound around those large, capable hands of his?
“Is it legal to have an eight-pack?” she murmured. “I’m pretty sure six was the legal allowable limit.”
He smiled, and his eyes sent sparks of light into the darkness. “Is that a complaint or a compliment?”
Bex gave him a flirtatious look and lowered her mouth to his naked stomach. She licked a line down each hard ridge of muscle, and then lower still. She stopped, just barely, to unbutton his pants and relieve him of his boxer briefs. Gabe’s cock fell into her hand, hard and thick and long, and she moaned. She made sex toys for a living. If someone was going to fuck her in real life, this cock was about as perfect of a specimen as she could get. She could already imagine him stroking her into submission, making her beg as he hit just the right spot inside her.
Bex leaned forward, hungry for him, and drew that delicious cock into her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and pulled, tracing her tongue on the underside of his shaft.
Gabe bucked against her, and she leaned back from his body. “I don’t know.” She looked up at him through her lashes and pitched her voice low and seductive. “Did it sound like a complaint?”
“Holy shit, Bex. I don’t want to sound like a teenager here, but I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”
Nothing like a challenge. She swirled her tongue over the head, velvet-soft in her mouth. “But you taste so good.”
Gabe groaned and let his head fall back against the bed, letting her suck and taste him until his hips churned. When his breath grew shallow, he dropped his hands to her head and stilled her. “That’s enough.”
She almost pouted, but then he pulled her up beside him and pushed a finger between her legs. The air hissed out of her. “I just really, really like it when you do that,” she said.
“I can tell.” His eyes winked in amusement. It was such a good look for him—those dark features transformed with a mix of arousal and joy.
Oh god, look at her thinking like this. This wasn’t what she did. She didn’t attach emotions to sex. She shouldn’t. Tonight should be sex, pure and simple, but then Gabe reached for a condom in the bedside table and rolled it over his length. He kept his gaze on her the whole time, those whiskey-colored eyes that stared right into her and made her feel so completely owned.
He nudged her legs apart with his knee and sank into her, and she flew apart.
Oh god.
This.
Gabe pulled back to stroke into her again, his perfect cock hitting the spot inside her that ached.
“Yes,” she panted. “Oh god, keep going.”
He captured her lips, kissing her, demanding and urgent. Then he rested his forearms beside her on the bed and cupped his hands behind her head to protect her as he drove into her, again and again. That small move—shielding her from harm—was so intimate. So much more than she’d ever expected.
“You feel so good, Bex. So hot and wet for me.”
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He swiveled his hips, finding new angles, and sparks flew across her skin. She closed her eyes, and the world fell away, everything vanishing except Gabe’s hands on her skin, his body in hers, the taste of him, the sweet smell of their lovemaking, the sound of flesh on flesh and their strangled, hoarse cries of delight.
She squeezed her inner muscles, and Gabe groaned and dropped his mouth to her neck. “Oh god, Bex. What are you doing to me?”
She was sweaty and damp and wild. She was a goddess and the earth and the universe. With one-night stands you could be anything you wanted, anyone you wanted. And here in this room, the thing she and Gabe built was uncontained, uncontrollable. It was a wildfire, destroying everything she thought she knew about sex.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Bad sex was good for her business. Sure Bex wanted to get off, but she could just as soon do that when she got home with any of the toys she’d designed in the six years she’d worked at X Enterprises. She was usually pretty indifferent about what a guy could do in bed, which made her easy to please. Or maybe tough to please. She couldn’t always be sure of which.
For her, inspiration came when someone failed to live up to expectations in bed. No one was perfect between the sheets, and using sex toys was a way to get that much better. A way to hit a forbidden angle, to find the perfect mix between vibration and pressure. But Gabriel left no stone unturned, no nerve ending unexplored. And leaving tonight without the perfect pleasure he could deliver was unfathomable. Bex would stay all night if he asked her, fuck him until sunrise if she could shatter just one more time.
This greed, this hunger wasn’t like her, but she shook her head and dashed away the thought. It didn’t matter. She was here.
Gabe fucked her like reverence, like she was so fully his. She squeezed her thighs around him, and when she climaxed, she came so hard her vision filled with stars.
Gabe kissed her again and churned his hips and groaned against her neck, pumping hot and hard into her as he found his own release.
Holy shit.
This stranger had kissed and wheedled Bex into two shattering orgasms, and she couldn’t begin to point out a place he lacked in skill. She sighed and laid back against the sheets. He was going to be bad for her career.
His Inspiration Page 2