by Jennie Marts
This woman was getting to him. Getting to him like no other woman had before. He didn’t know exactly what made her so special—probably couldn’t put it into words if he tried—but his heart knew. And that’s where she’d landed. Smack dab in the middle of his heart.
And in the middle of his bed. And he was keeping her there. Even if he had to tie her to the bedposts. Hmmm. Now that was an idea. Maybe he’d save that one for the second date. Because there would be a second date. And a third. He wasn’t letting her go.
***
Gabby loved the feel of his hands on her. Loved the way he alternated between soft caresses and passionate strokes. She was incredibly, ridiculously, stupidly attracted to this man and she could not get enough of his hands on her body.
Or her hands on his body. She’d never touched a man that was so riddled with muscles, a man whose abs were so hard and tight they reminded her of chiseled stone. Everything about him was hard and toned, except his lips. His lips were soft.
So soft as they kissed her throat, her neck—as they did those crazy things to her nipples that sent jolts of sensation pulsing through her. He had somehow lost his briefs, but she still wore the tiny pair of pink lace panties and even that small amount of fabric seemed like too much between them.
He must have thought so too, because his hands skimmed down her sides and under the waistband of the panties. He sat back, watching her as he slowly slid them down her legs.
She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as he dropped back, peeled the panties free of her legs, then leaned forward, his hair tickling her stomach as he laid a row of kisses along the line of her waist.
The warmth of his breath on her sensitive skin sent waves of pleasure through her every nerve and her inner vixen cried out for more, more, more. She wanted him—all of him—and wanted him now.
He pulled back, his eyes sultry and dark as his gaze skimmed across her naked form. “You are so fucking beautiful. I want to touch you—all of you—and I can’t get enough of your skin.” He traced his fingers up her stomach, through the center of her breasts, along her throat and cupped her neck.
Bending down, he kissed her softly, letting his lips linger as he whispered against hers, his voice husky with desire. “I really like you, Angel. It makes me crazy how much I like you. I think about you all the damn time. I want you in my bed. I want you so damn bad right now. But I also want to wake up next to you in the morning, to make breakfast for you, and to just lay around on the sofa and watch TV with you. I want you in my life.”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Are you good with that?”
“Yeah,” she said, her breath catching in her throat. “Yeah, I’m good with that. All of that. The TV, the breakfast, being in your bed. I like you, too.” She did like him.
She more than liked him. Somewhere over the last few days of going shopping with him, and dancing with him, and having him help her in the cupcake shop, she’d fallen for him. And fallen hard.
So hard that nothing else mattered. Even if he had said he only wanted to be with her for this one night, this one hour, she wouldn’t have cared, she only wanted him. Wanted to feel the scruff of his beard against her neck, the calloused palms of his hands sliding along her waist, the soft tender feel of his lips against hers.
She ran her hands up his chest, tracing the spread of his ribs and drawing out a groan of pleasure. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as she ran her nails lightly around the circle of his tight nipples. His body was pure perfection, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Enough of him. Something about him filled her. Filled her spirit, her soul.
Her inner vixen excitedly raised her hand, interrupting her emotional thoughts with an eager request of another way he could fill her.
He must have heard her request, probably in the way she was kissing him with a hunger and a ferocity that she didn’t know she possessed. He reached over her head, across the bed to pull open the drawer of his night stand and retrieve a foil-wrapped condom.
Ripping the package open, he covered himself and settled between her thighs. Gooseflesh rose on her skin, and her breath came in tight gasps of anticipation. His eyes locked with hers as he pulled her to meet him.
She moved with him, matching his rhythm as he brought her to the brink of desire—to delicious torture of need and want—gasping and clutching his broad shoulders, she buried her face in his neck. Then with a shudder and a cry, together they fell over the brink. And into bliss.
Collapsing beside her, he pulled her to him. Joy filled her as she fit perfectly against him, like her body recognized his and molded to him—as if she’d found the missing piece of her heart’s puzzle.
Chapter Fourteen
Owen sighed with contentment. This was good. He never told women how he felt. Never shared.
But with Gabby, he’d not only told her how he felt, he’d actually shared his thoughts and feelings, and she hadn’t laughed, hadn’t said he was an idiot. She’d only smiled and kissed him and told him she felt the same. And now she lay curled against him, her skin warm and soft.
He smiled down at her, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “So, you never told me what you thought of the game. Did you have a good time?”
She chuckled. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now? Hockey?”
He gave her a devilish grin. “I was thinking about a lot of things. Like the way you looked when you pulled that jersey over your head—which made me think about how much I liked seeing my name on your back.” He liked seeing his hands on her back as well, gripping her waist as she rocked in front of him.
Just thinking about that was getting him hard again. Yep, this woman would be the death of him. Better to keep to the topic of the game. “So, did you like the game?”
“Yes, I did like the game. I really liked seeing you play. You were amazing.”
“Thank you,” he said, giving her another grin filled with sexual innuendo.
She gave him a playful shove. “I meant on the ice. You played great. It was fun to watch you skate, and when you scored that goal the crowd went wild for you.”
“I scored that one for you.”
She grinned coyly up at him. “I went a little wild for you too. But I was a little surprised when you smiled at me—I had no idea you were missing a tooth.”
He laughed. “I’m missing a couple. But the one on the side isn’t as noticeable. I probably should have warned you. I normally wear a bridge, but it’s an expensive piece and easier to take out during the games. And it makes me look tougher without it in. A bunch of us have lost teeth from getting hit in the face with either a puck, or a stick, or a fist.”
She frowned.
Uh oh. Not a good sign.
“I had a little trouble with that part. I have to tell you, I didn’t like the fighting. In fact, I hated it. I hated seeing someone punching you in the face, and it bothered me to see you hitting someone else. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. The fighting is hard for some people. But others love it.” He tipped her chin up to look at him. “It’s all part of the game. And it’s just a game. We’re wearing pads, and usually the fight is broken up before anyone really even gets hurt.”
She reached up and touched the scraped and tender area above his eyebrow. “You do get hurt. Your body is bruised, and there was blood on the ice tonight.”
“Yeah, okay. Sometimes the fights are more serious. We whale on each other and at the time, we’re usually pissed as hell, but once it’s over, it’s over. It’s not like we’re trying to murder anybody. And you’re so keyed up when it’s happening, you’re not really thinking about it. And it doesn’t usually hurt until afterwards. Then it hurts like a bitch.”
“I get all of that. But it’s hard for me to watch it, knowing that I worked so hard to escape that kind of violence. It’s hard to watch it happening for sport.”
He hadn’t even thought about the connection between the domestic abuse she’d witnessed i
n her family and the fighting in the hockey game.
He pulled her to him, protectively tucking her head under his chin. “That’s all it is, a sport. I get paid to do it—to play, to skate, to score, and yeah, sometimes to fight. But that doesn’t define who I am. Outside of the rink, I’m just a regular guy with a bunch of brothers and a dog. A guy that likes chocolate frosting and has a crush on a girl that makes cupcakes and has gorgeous hair and a great ass.” He reached down and gave her butt a squeeze.
She laughed against his chest. “Are you trying to distract me by complimenting my great ass?”
“No, I’m trying to distract you by fondling your great ass. Is it working?”
She pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him, and straddling his waist. “Not yet, but I don’t think you’re giving it your best effort.”
Grinning down at him, she looked so beautiful, so damn beautiful.
Her hair fell over her chest, the tips of her breasts peeking from between the curly strands. He reached up, filling his hands, cupping them as he brushed his thumbs across their hardened tips. “How about now?”
She gave a soft moan, arching her back and squeezing his waist with her bare thighs. He dropped a hand to her leg, tracing his fingers up her thigh and across her hip. She slid forward then back, slowly, in a soft rhythm that had him groaning and gripping her waist.
He might still die tonight—but it would be with a smile on his face.
***
Gabby’s phone rang, drawing her out of a delicious sleep snuggled against Owen’s warm body. She reached for the phone and sighed in despair as she saw her brother’s number come up on the screen. It was never good when Justin called at two in the morning.
Owen had served them bowls of ice cream to eat in bed and had brought their clothes and phones into his bedroom before they’d gone to sleep. She almost wished he’d left the phone on the floor in the living room.
Not really. If her brother needed her, she would be there.
With a feeling of dread, she tapped the phone and held it to her ear. “Justin. You okay?”
“Gabby? Can you come get me? I need a ride home—maybe to the hospital.”
“To the hospital? What the hell happened?” She slipped from the bed and pulled on her clothes. “Where are you? I’m on my way.”
“At the Tavern. It’s a bar downtown. It’s a few blocks down from the club we were in.” His voice held the telltale slur of too much booze, but there was something else, it also sounded garbled like he had a mouth full of marbles.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“What’s going on?” Owen sat up in bed, rubbing a hand over his messy hair.
“I gotta go. Justin’s in trouble. He needs a ride—to the hospital.”
“Okay, give me a minute. Let me get dressed. I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
She hated to admit how glad she was to have him come along. Not that she wanted to drag him into her family drama, but it would made her feel a little safer to have him with her when she arrived at a dive bar in the middle of downtown.
They were in the car in less than five minutes and had reached the bar within fifteen. Owen knew it, had been there before.
She scanned the parking lot for signs of her brother and saw him slumped against the side of the building, his head bent forward against his chest. “There he is.” She’d opened the door and was out of the car before Owen had barely rolled to a stop. “Justin.”
Her brother lifted his head as she bent down beside him. His face was a mess. Bloody and bruised, his left eye was almost swollen shut, and blood ran from his bruised nose and cut lip. He winced in pain as he tried to smile. “Hey, sis. Thanks for comin’.”
“Justin, what happened?”
He shook his head, his good eye bleary and tearing. “I don’t know, man. It’s all kind of a blur. I was talking to this girl. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I asked her to dance, and the next thing you know, this guy is beating the shit out of me. He had a couple of friends with him and they held my arms so the first guy could punch me. I couldn’t even fight back.”
“Hey, dude.” Owen bent down on the other side of Justin and tipped his head toward the meager light coming from the eaves of the bar. “Looks like the bastards broke your nose and split your lip. You still got all your teeth?”
Gabby watched as her brother gingerly ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth before he nodded. “Yeah. But I’m pretty sure a couple of my ribs are broken. All I could do was curl up, and when I hit the floor they all started kicking me.”
Justin’s arms were crossed over his middle, and Owen gently lifted his shirt. Even in the dim light of the parking lot lights, they could see the dark smudges of bruising on his stomach. He wore a lightweight winter coat and shivered against the cold. He was probably going into a little bit of shock as well.
She hated this—hated seeing her brother hurting. She swallowed back the emotion and the bile building in the back of her throat. It wouldn’t help anything for her to be sick. “We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”
Before he could try, the door to the bar burst open and two men tumbled out, one swearing loudly at the other one. They both wore faded jeans and appeared to be piss-drunk, yelling at each other but not in real anger. One wore a dirty grey parka, and the other had on a jean jacket and a torn blue baseball cap. A woman in a short ski coat and tight jeans followed them out, and the guy in the cap threw his arm roughly around her waist.
They turned to the parking lot and their attention must have been caught by the sight of Owen and Gabby bent over her brother. The three of them ambled over, their posture and demeanor clearly expressing that they were looking for trouble.
Heart racing with fear and a protective instinct for her brother, Gabby moved to stand defensively over Justin’s battered body. Owen stepped up to flank his other side, and she offered him an appreciative glance. He was a big tough guy with lots of muscles and wearing an angry scowl. He made her feel safe. And surely no one would be dumb enough to start trouble with him.
“What’s going on here?” Baseball Cap asked, his voice containing hostility and disdain.
She was wrong. Obviously this guy was dumb enough.
He ran his slimy gaze over her body and she felt like she needed a shower. “You all having some kind of party? You looking to score a little action?”
Action? What the hell was he talking about? Was he trying to sell them drugs or referring to some kind of creepy action between her, Owen, and her brother? Either way, Gabby didn’t want to find out. She felt her brother stiffen as the couple approached.
Baseball Cap looked down at Justin and an angry look crossed his face. “Oh no. You’re the piece of shit that tried to pick up my girl. I thought we already taught you a lesson and told you to get out of here.”
This was the guy who had beaten her brother within an inch of his life? Gabby stood up and faced him head on. “I only see one piece of shit around here, and it’s not my brother.”
“What’d you say to me?” He moved a menacing step closer, staring down at her, and pointing a finger at her chest. She could see the lump of chew puffing out his bottom lip, and he smelled like tobacco and stale beer. “Did you say you want a piece of the same ass-whooping we gave your brother?”
A large shadow fell across his angry face as Owen stepped in front of her, blocking the light from the bar, and knocking the guy’s finger out of the way. “You’re gonna want to take a step back. In fact, why don’t you just be on your way? You and your buddies have caused enough damage for one night.”
“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me?” He glared up at Owen, then spit a stream of tobacco to the ground by their feet.
Gabby could almost feel the rage simmering off of Owen’s skin. His hands curled into fists at his side, and she reached up and laid a hand on hi
s arm. “Let it go, Owen. He’s not worth it.”
“Yeah, Owen, do what your little girlfriend says, and let it go.” Baseball Cap sneered and chuckled. He tilted his head in the same way that a dog does when it’s trying to figure something out. “Hey, I know you.”
“No. You don’t. And I can assure you that right now you don’t want to get to know me any better.”
Gabby pressed her hand harder against his arm. “He’s an idiot. Let’s just go. We need to get my brother to the hospital. He’s not worth it.”
The guy in the cap pointed a finger at Owen’s chest. “I sure-as-shit do know you. You’re Owen Bannister, the piece of shit hockey player that’s wrecking the Colorado Summit.”
Oh no. Seriously? He did not just say that. This guy was drunk AND stupid.
Gabby watched Owen’s eyes narrow as he took a deep calming breath. “I said, I think it’s time for you and your buddies to go.”
“I think you owe me fifty bucks. I had money riding on that game tonight. The Summit should have won it. If you wouldn’t have had your head up your ass and could have stayed out of the penalty box, we might have won.”
Was this guy looking to get knocked out? Gabby took a step between Owen and Baseball Cap, trying a different tack this time and appealing to the idiot. “Listen, we don’t want any trouble.”
The idiot sneered down at her. “I don’t want any trouble either. I just want my fifty bucks. Just give me my money, and we’ll be on our way.” He squinted at Owen. “Except now I think you need to add on another fifty for asshole tax. ‘Cause if you hadn’t of been such an asshole, you might not have got your brother kicked off the team.”
Oh shit. That was the wrong thing to say. She felt Owen stiffen behind her, his body tense and ready to fight. This situation could get out of hand real fast.
She held up a hand to the idiot. “I said we don’t want any trouble. Why don’t you just leave?”