Breathless

by Dakota Harrison

  Emma’s eyes threatened to overflow, but she continued, her voice quiet in the silent room. “She said you didn’t want to help with the house—and that’s fine—but don’t pretend like you do when it’s not your idea. She said you think I’m nothing but trash who no one would want to date after the initial thrill wore off. That Pete felt sorry for me, and that’s the only reason he asked me to dinner.”

  Gabe stared at her, shock turning his blood to ice. “How could you believe that? Yes, I refused that stupid damn list. You know that. It wasn’t because I thought you were…or are leftovers. Dammit, Emma! I refused initially because I thought it was a stupid idea to begin with—one of Ryan’s harebrained schemes. He thought he’d win and have a huge kitty to take you out with in Pueblo. Show you a good night out.”

  He didn’t add that Ryan was hoping like crazy she’d want to have sex with him afterward. He ignored the cramping of his gut when he thought of his friend with her like that. It was none of his business.

  “If you were the kind of girl that Millie said, you would’ve gotten into the whole wager thing and been dating within days of arriving here. Of course I know you’re not like that. And Pete never felt sorry for you. He likes you. You made him feel special, like someone worth talking to. All from one night of sitting down to have a drink with him that first time you went out with Darb. And do you think that’s a lie as well? That Darby doesn’t really like you?”

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, Gabe waited until Emma answered.

  “No, of course not. She’s not like that.” Emma raised her sad gaze to his. “If it’s all lies, why would Millie say that in there? She didn’t know I was there.”

  Gabe let out a bark of laughter. “Oh yes, she did. She watched you go in there and followed you. She wants to get rid of you—and she nearly succeeded.”

  Emma’s confusion was obvious. A wash of sympathy followed by fear at the thought of her leaving delved deep into Gabe’s insides and burrowed where he couldn’t dig it out.

  “Then why did you kiss me? I thought you were just…” Emma waved her hand in the air, struggling for words.

  “I don’t know why I kissed you.” Liar. You kissed her because you wanted her—still want her. Gabe ignored the annoying voice in his head and spat out the first thing he thought of. “You were upset. I thought it would help.”

  Oh heck. He was getting into more trouble every time he opened his mouth.

  Time to lay it on the table and see if he could salvage anything from this mess.

  “I want our friendship back. I miss talking to you, seeing you. I did something stupid and I’m sorry.”

  Emma blinked and stepped back. “So, the stupid thing you did—that was kiss me, right? And now you’re sorry?”

  Gabe didn’t like the tone of her voice when she said it like that. He nodded slowly, knowing he’d just said something wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to say he was sorry? “Yes.”

  A flush spread up her face, anger swallowing the remaining tears in her eyes. “You’re an ass, you know that?” She stalked past him and fled into the kitchen, spinning to face him when he followed her into the room. “What do you want from me? What, Gabe? I don’t understand,” she demanded, anger suffusing her face.

  “Nothing! I don’t want a thing from you. Just your friendship.” He held up his hands, at a loss to explain himself any better. “I like you, okay? I want to spend time with you, but as friends, nothing more. I’m not interested in you.”

  What could he say to make her forgive him? To make her want to spend time with him again? To make this gnawing emptiness in his gut go away?

  Emma’s face closed over. “Good. That’s fine by me. This all sounds very familiar. Didn’t we agree on this weeks ago? Why bring it up again?”

  Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and stepped closer to where she was standing near the counter. “Because every idiot I come in contact with seems to think the opposite, that’s why. I’m sick of telling them we’re only friends and I don’t want you getting hurt from any misconceptions. I shouldn’t have to explain myself every five minutes.” Frustration tinged every word.

  Emma shook her head at him, her own annoyance obvious. “What has this got to do with me? I’m not the one saying that nonsense. I’m not attracted to you either, so go tell someone who is!”

  Gabe was so angry he felt like screaming. She was lying again. He’d felt the heat when they kissed. It had been real. “Great! At least we agree on that.” He strode over to stand directly in front of her. “I am not attracted to you,” he repeated. He grasped the back of her head, her soft hair winding around the back of his hand, entrapping him, entrancing him. “I’m not,” he ground out between clenched teeth before his mouth crashed into hers.

  Shock waves fired through Emma’s entire body at the taste of Gabe’s mouth on hers. Silver fire shot along every vein, screaming down into every nerve as his tongue opened her lips and plunged into her mouth.

  Her hands slid up his shirt, around his neck and into his hair, her fingers twisting and grabbing handfuls, holding him to her. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but feel him against her, around her—enveloping her.

  Oh God, she didn’t want it to stop.

  She’d been fighting her attraction to Gabe since the first day she’d seen him, keeping it hidden and controlled so as to let their friendship grow instead. She’d thought it better to have him as a friend. But she couldn’t fight it anymore. Not with him kissing her, tasting her, owning her with just his mouth.

  He had reasons why he didn’t want to be involved with anyone, but so did she. Emma didn’t want to be responsible for anyone again. Never to be put in that position of trust. Not when it could so easily be taken away.

  No one seemed to have told her body that. She could not stop herself from reacting to him—any more than she could stop the spin of the earth—and his pull was far stronger than that.

  His hands slid down her back to her bottom, pulling her against him. His moan at the feel of her body against his set her skin on fire. Gabe’s hand slipped around, sliding up beneath her tee-shirt to lay claim to her breast. Emma sucked in a desperate breath at feeling his hand on her bare skin, her nipples reacting so thoroughly it was impossible to miss.

  She wanted his touch, didn’t want him to stop.

  Her body’s reaction to his hand didn’t go unnoticed. Gabe tore his mouth from hers as he yanked up her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. His mouth replaced his hand on her breast, his lips and tongue devouring her. First laving one nipple, then the other.

  Emma’s cry echoed through the room. It was getting too hard to breathe.

  Leaving her aching breasts, Gabe’s mouth returned to hers. He raided the depths of her mouth, stealing all strength from her legs. Lifting her up to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter, his strong hands urged Emma’s knees apart to place himself between them.

  He slipped his hands beneath her skirt, bunching it up around her thighs, and grazed his hands along her legs to slip under her bottom, pulling her against him.

  The hardness of his erection was obvious—even beneath the thick material of his jeans—as was its insistence, straining to be released as he pressed himself against her. Emma pressed herself against him, needing the touch—the pressure—needing him.

  “I want you.”

  Her whispered words had Gabe’s fingers digging into the soft skin of her ass as they moved and tugged on the sides of her panties. Apparently finding no easy way of removal, Emma heard the soft material tear, the remains of the once expensive underwear flung heedlessly to the floor.

  The sound of a zipper sliding down sifted through her consciousness, but failed to make an impact. Gabe’s mouth was too distracting, nipping and tasting and sucking at hers. The significance of the sound permeated her brain only when Gabe’s hands returned to beneath her rear end and lifted.

  Emma’s eyes flew open with the heavy heat of his cock pressing against he
r, then inside her. He shifted her slightly, then slid his full length into her, melding them together.

  Gabe’s head fell to her naked shoulder, his moans of pleasure intensifying the bliss of feeling him begin to move. Emma wrapped her legs up and around his hips, increasing the friction of where their bodies met. Eyes closing in rapture, Emma gave herself over to the feeling of pure enjoyment.

  “Emma… Oh hell.” Gabe’s moaned words slid over her skin like molten fire, igniting every last nerve and synapse in bliss.

  Emma’s hands wound around Gabe’s neck, his strength holding her upright when she would have fallen.

  “Please…I—” Emma’s body shuddered, her legs tightening painfully around Gabe’s hips, the spasm of muscles enhancing the feel of him inside her, filling her. Emma cried out, her reaction too powerful. She couldn’t hold on. He just felt too damn good, and she hadn’t been with anyone for so long. Sensation so intense she believed her skin would melt, ice and fire burning her. The inferno washed over her, inside her, branding her with his body.

  Gabe licked and kissed her shoulder where his head rested. He was buried so deep inside her. The rush of sensations hit her harder than she ever thought possible.

  Gabe’s yell of ecstasy resounded around the kitchen. He pulled her harder onto him, and succeeded in throwing her over the edge into her orgasm. It hit her, stealing her breath, her strength and her will to fight her attraction to him any longer.

  She couldn’t deny herself this. Not when he seemed to want her as much as she wanted him.

  Gabe sucked in a huge breath. “Bedroom,” he rasped, staring into Emma’s eyes.

  She pointed at the door to her right. “That way,” she said, her husky, sex-satiated voice whisper-quiet.

  Gabe picked her up. Her legs were still wrapped around his hips and holding his jeans in place as he strode quickly in the direction she’d pointed. This was going to be a night neither of them forgot in a hurry.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gabe shifted his shoulder a little to settle Emma more comfortably against him.

  What a night.

  He regarded the clock on her nightstand and grinned. It was four o’clock in the morning, and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Emma’s warm body curved enticingly against his in the dark. He tightened his arm around her and grazed his lips over her forehead. She sighed and her warm breath dusted across the skin of his chest, sending goose bumps all over him.

  How could a woman make you feel like this after only one night? It wasn’t just sex. He’d felt a connection he’d never experienced before.

  Gabe let out a breath. The problem was, it wasn’t one night. He’d wanted this for weeks now, since the first time he’d laid eyes on her in Dan’s bar. He just couldn’t accept it, wouldn’t let himself get closer than friends.

  Seeing her reaction to him, her need for him—now there was no reason to hold back. He stroked a finger over her creamy skin. A shaft of moonlight speared through the night, slashing across their chests. He never thought he could feel this way again. Not after what had happened.

  Betrayal wasn’t a nice word.

  Gabe tangled his fingers through the ends of her long hair where it lay across his chest. He would have to tell her the full story about his breakup with his fiancée. He knew Darby had told her about the cheating, but that was nothing compared to the rest.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough. He kissed her forehead again and closed his eyes. He was going to need his sleep if they went another round like that. They’d been in bed since the previous afternoon, only stopping to grab something quick to eat when they thought they’d die of starvation. He’d only left the house long enough to run to his pickup and grab the box of condoms Darby had insisted on putting there a couple of weeks ago, arguing that it couldn’t hurt to have some. Just in case he and Emma got intimate. They’d had a blistering fight over it. He’d finally given in and sworn to leave them there for eternity, unused. So much for that.

  Emma stirred gently, her soft moan muffled by his skin. Gabe held himself still, not wanting to disturb her. She needed her rest.

  “Hmm. Alex.” Her soft voice caressed his ears as her arm moved across his chest.

  Alex? Who the hell is Alex?

  Gabe frowned into the dark. Hearing her say another man’s name wasn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, but he supposed he could understand. If Alex was an old boyfriend and she felt comfortable here with Gabe, her subconscious would associate them.

  Nothing to worry about.

  Gabe waited a few heartbeats, but curiosity got the better of him. “Who’s Alex?” he whispered.

  He felt Emma’s mouth curve into a smile against his shoulder. “My husband, silly,” she answered on a breath of air, and sank back into oblivion against him.

  Gabe’s heart stuttered to a halt. His blood turned to ice. He couldn’t breathe.

  Husband? She’s married?

  A vise gripped his insides and clamped down hard.

  Oh Christ, no. Not again.

  The first person he’d felt something for after Sami and she was the same? How could that even be possible?

  Gabe had to move, had to get out of there before he did something stupid. He slid Emma gently off his arm and froze when she rolled over and sank back into the pillows. Of all people, he would never have taken her for a liar. She seemed far too genuine.

  So much for him knowing anything. He spotted his jeans laying bunched up on the floor near his shoes in a shaft of moonlight and pulled them up hurriedly. He turned back toward the bed, his heart twisting and dying a little as he stared at her.

  He’d thought—no, hoped—that there could’ve been something more. Gabe had denied his instant attraction to Emma to anyone who would listen. He’d nearly managed to fool himself into believing it too. They’d become friends, instead of jumping into something headfirst. He’d thought it might make a difference.

  Obviously, he was very, very wrong.

  Gabe grabbed his shoes and backed out of the room, imprinting the image of Emma lying in the moonlight. He wouldn’t be seeing her like this again. If there was a God, he wouldn’t see her again…at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emma rolled over and stretched between the sheets. Her body felt used, abused and deliciously sore. Muscles ached that she hadn’t even realized she had until last night.

  She breathed deeply, relishing the scent of Gabe’s aftershave all around her. She grabbed a fistful of sheet and lifted it to her face, inhaling the exotic mix of Gabe and sex. It was a heady aphrodisiac. Grinning to herself, she slid a hand across the bed to reach for him.

  Nothing.

  Emma’s eyes opened. She sat up and scouted the room. He wasn’t there.

  She scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed her satin robe from the floor. She belted it and wandered down the hall toward the kitchen. The neckline slid off her shoulder as she walked. It was always doing that—the robe was too big for her. She shrugged it back up onto her shoulder. Gabe must be making coffee, or something.

  Emma rounded the doorway and stopped, frowning. No Gabe.

  “Where on earth…” Emma bit her lip and glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight thirty. Where would he have gone at this hour? Work?

  Her stomach started churning. Surely he hadn’t left, left? He was coming back, wasn’t he? From all indications, he’d enjoyed the night as much as she had.

  Hadn’t he?

  A horrible feeling writhed in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away ferociously. No. He wasn’t the type to get what he wanted, then run, pretending it hadn’t meant anything.

  She knew there had been the bet to see who would date her first. Surely there wasn’t a bet about who would sleep with her first?

  No. He isn’t like that. He’s my friend, not some scumbag lowlife. Isn’t he?

  Emma’s knees felt weak. Where was he, and why hadn’t he let her know he was leaving? Or leave a note?

  She scanned the k
itchen for one, but there was nothing to be seen on the counters, except for the remains of their quick snack in the middle of the night.

  A heavy knock at the front door made her jump.

  A huge grin erupted on her face. The dope had locked himself out. Emma ran down the hallway, her robe slipping again as she pulled the door open. “I thought—” Emma’s smile drained from her face.

  “Good morning, Emma. And I take it by those bites on your shoulder that it was a good night, as well,” said Darby, laughing. “Courtesy of my brother, I presume?” she teased.

  Emma’s face flamed with embarrassment. “What makes you say that? Could’ve been anyone,” she said as she yanked up the errant sleeve of her robe.

  Darby leaned against the doorjamb and raised an eyebrow. “Was it just anyone?”

  Emma frowned and stepped back, making room for Darby to enter. “Of course not. What do you think I am?” she countered and wrapped her arms defensively around herself. She’d really thought that it was Gabe at the door. Now she didn’t know what to think.

  Darby closed the door behind her and followed Emma down the hall and into the kitchen. “Well, it’s obvious someone gave you those bites, and I’m sure you weren’t playing Pictionary when it happened.”

  Emma’s shoulders slumped. “No. Gabe spent the night,” she confirmed quietly.

  “Ha! I knew it. So…was it good?” she inquired, a happy sparkle lighting her eyes.

  Emma turned and fiddled with her new coffee maker to have something to do. She shrugged a shoulder. “Yes. For me anyway.”

  Silence met her quiet statement. She busied herself, dumping coffee into the percolator to avoid Darby’s stare.

  “What do you mean, for you? Just ask him. I’m sure he’ll tell you he’s in seventh heaven right now,” Darby said. “He’s been hankering after you since day one.”