“And you live with Levi and Logan?”
“Yep.”
“Is that why the street sign back there says Bailey Way?”
He laughed. “No, that’s from a prank we pulled. It was about a year and a half ago, I guess? We put them all over town. The Havens removed them, but we kept replacing this one. They finally just left it.”
I followed him inside and he flipped on the lights. The front room distinctly said bachelor pad. It had a worn couch and a couple of armchairs, a coffee table cluttered with video game controllers and a few beer bottles, and a big TV mounted on the wall.
Gavin leaned his crutches against the door so he could take off his coat. “Sorry. It’s kind of messy. My brothers are basically wild animals.”
“None of the mess is yours?” I nudged his arm, then shrugged off my coat.
“Of course not.” He grinned. “They’re not home, so I can throw them under the bus.”
“Naturally.”
“Princess Squeaker,” Gavin called, getting his crutches back under his arms. “Mommy’s home.”
Gavin’s kitten came out from the hallway, blinking sleepy eyes. She paused and arched her back in a long stretch.
“There’s my tiny girl. Did you miss your mommy?”
I didn’t ask why he was referring to himself as her mommy. That just seemed like something Gavin would do.
He called her over and she followed him to the couch. As soon as he sat down, she jumped up into his lap, purring loudly.
I sat on the couch next to him and tucked my legs up. “She sure loves you.”
He petted her affectionately. “Yeah. So how do you feel about scary movies?”
“I don’t know. They’re not really my thing.”
“Really? You write some scary ass shit.”
“I know, but that’s different.”
“How?”
“Well…” I fiddled with a strand of my hair. “I guess because when I’m writing scary things, I know I’m in control. Writing helps me process my fears. When I was a little girl, I was terrified of being kidnapped by a bad guy. I used to have nightmares about being locked in a closet. I could picture it so clearly, everything from the way my heart would race, to the little sliver of light I’d see around the door. I could hear the footsteps of the bad guy coming closer. It was all so real. So when I got older, I wrote a book where something like that happens. The character isn’t a little girl, she’s a grown woman. But she’s kidnapped and held in a closet, just like I used to be afraid of.”
“Did it help? Are you still afraid of being kidnapped and held in a closet?”
“Nope, I’m not. I haven’t had that nightmare since I wrote the book.”
“Are all your books based on nightmares?”
“No, but I dig into my fears when I write. And I think it helps. I know I still get anxious about things, but writing suspenseful stories helps me temper some of my bigger, more outlandish fears.”
“But no scary movies?”
I took a deep breath. “I haven’t tried to watch one in a long time.”
“I was just thinking it might be fun to watch something similar to what you write. There’s this one that has a similar vibe, although it’s not nearly as good as your book. It’s not a gory horror movie, but it’s pretty intense.”
“We can give it a try.”
“Tell you what. If you hate it, we can turn it off and find something else.”
“Deal.”
Princess Squeaker seemed to have gotten her fill of snuggles from her cat mom. She crawled onto the arm of the couch and curled up to go to sleep.
Gavin grabbed a remote off the coffee table and got the movie started.
I could see why he’d suggested it. There were similarities to my books, particularly the one he’d been reading. But seeing it all on a screen was a different experience from writing. It was intense in a different way. The score added to the suspenseful atmosphere of the film, the music reverberating through me, making my hair stand on end.
Suddenly, my hypersensitivity-induced arousal was back. Heat bloomed in my core and a tingling sensation made me shift in my seat. The friction of my pants only made it worse. My heart beat faster and my cheeks warmed.
But maybe it wasn’t my hypersensitivity that was causing it.
Gavin smelled amazing—somehow clean and masculine and rugged all at once. I treated myself to sneaky glances out of the corner of my eye, taking in his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. His muscular arms and broad chest stretching the confines of his t-shirt.
Hot firefighter, indeed. And the kitten only made it worse.
Dad’s subtle warning ran through my mind. A playboy firefighter with a charming smile. Gavin himself had admitted Dad was right about him. Obviously I didn’t know Gavin’s entire relationship history—nor did I want to—but I could fill in the pieces. He probably had a lot of flings, or at least avoided long-term attachments.
Which, right now, was kind of perfect.
I wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship. But I liked Gavin, and I was undeniably attracted to him. I’d slept with him a dozen times in my mind already, something my overactive imagination had never done before. I’d never fantasized about Cullen, or the few guys I’d dated before him.
No one had ever made me feel this way.
Would it be so bad if things got a little bit physical between us? Assuming Gavin was interested in getting physical with me.
He’d looked at me like he’d wanted to kiss me the other day in my bedroom. If my dad hadn’t come in, he might have done it. So it wasn’t too much of a leap to consider the possibility that Gavin Bailey was attracted to me too.
I took a deep breath and squirmed again. Movie, Skylar. Focus on the movie. Gavin was right, it was intense. I found myself captivated, almost holding my breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Boo!” Gavin said out of the blue, grabbing my thigh and giving me a startling shake.
Shrieking, I jumped in my seat, clutching my hands to my chest. “Oh my god, you scared me.”
He laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Jerk,” I said, playfully shoving his arm.
He grabbed my wrist, twisted toward me, and wrapped his hand around the other one. Suddenly we were face to face, his nose almost brushing against mine, my arms immobilized in his grasp. My heart beat harder, my breath caught in my throat, and my eyes dipped to his mouth.
Kiss me, Gavin. I want you to. I want it so bad.
I didn’t know who closed the distance. Maybe we met in the middle. But in an instant, his mouth was on mine, his hands pinning my arms to the back of the couch. His lips were firm, insistent, and oh my god, so soft. I welcomed his kiss, parting my lips when I felt the slow sweep of his tongue.
His head tilted, his lips capturing more of mine, and the velvety softness of his tongue sent a shiver down my spine. Sparks exploded between my legs, the pressure growing more insistent by the second.
He stopped, suddenly pulling back, the abrupt separation sucking the breath from my lungs.
“Sorry,” he said breathlessly.
“Don’t be.” Feeling bold—which was so unlike me—I leaned closer. Pressed my lips to his neck. “It’s really okay.”
He groaned, the vibration pulsing through my lips. I kissed his throat, feeling the scratch of his light stubble.
“Sky, I don’t know if we should.” His voice was husky.
I kissed his neck again. “You don’t want to?”
Another groan. “No, I do. I just…”
I kept kissing him, reveling in this feeling of bravery. Maybe even recklessness. “You just what?”
“I don’t know if this is the right thing.”
“Why?”
Before he could answer, I pressed my lips to his. He still had my arms pinned to the couch and he wasn’t pulling away. He wanted me. He just wasn’t sure if he should.
He kissed me back, his lips pliant and warm. Our
tongues brushed, sending a jolt of electricity pinging through me.
Gavin Bailey knew how to kiss. He didn’t just purse his lips and make contact. He caressed my mouth with his. Slid his lips along mine, tasting me with his tongue. Then pressed with more force, sucking my lower lip into his mouth. I felt the quick scrape of his teeth, making me shudder.
More. I wanted all this and more.
But he pulled away again.
“Gavin, this is really okay. I’m saying yes.”
“I know.” He let go of my wrists and my heart sank straight to the pit of my stomach. “I just don’t know if I should do this.”
“I don’t know if I should either. But I still want to.” Vaguely wondering who I was and what had happened to mousy, shy Skylar, I continued, moving closer so I could whisper in his ear. “I want this, Gavin. But if you can’t give it to me, I need you to take me home so I can take care of it myself.”
A low groan rumbled in his throat and he manhandled me onto my back. I found myself beneath him, the weight of his body pressing between my legs.
“Is this what you want?” he growled, grinding into me.
“Yes.”
He kissed me again, this time with ferocity, while he thrust his hips. His erection moved between my legs, giving me friction and pressure right where I needed it. I whimpered into his mouth, clutching his back.
“Right there?” he said near my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck. He thrust again. “You like that?”
I nodded, the sensations spiraling out of control.
“Is that what you need Sky?”
“Yes. Please.”
He kept thrusting, rubbing me in a steady rhythm. Even through my clothes, it felt amazing. Heat and pressure built so fast, I gasped with the intensity of it, my eyes fluttering, cheeks flushing hot.
I ran my hands along his hard planes of muscle as his back flexed. He thrust harder and I gripped the fabric of his t-shirt. I wanted more—wanted to feel him sink inside me, his thickness filling me. But he was relentless, dry humping me like a man on a mission.
“More?”
All I could do was whimper. I was too far gone to form real words. My clit throbbed with hot tension, desperate for release. I rolled my hips against him, seeking more. Always more. His cock was rock solid, digging into me, promising blissful climax.
Any second now.
Just a little more.
He ground against me harder and a groan escaped his throat. My eyes rolled back as my body exploded into sparks. Pulses of pleasure rippled through me in waves, each thrust of his hips drawing out my orgasm to its pinnacle. I moaned, my inhibitions nowhere in sight, my body coming apart beneath him.
His rhythm slowed as my climax waned. I held onto him, breathing hard, the world coming back into focus.
For a moment, we lay there, his chest pressing against mine with his heavy breaths, his mouth near my ear. Letting my hands slide off his back, I shifted my hips.
“Don’t. Move.” His voice was strained.
I froze, scarcely daring to breathe. Was he close too? Was he afraid he’d come in his pants?
Oh my god, that was hot.
After hesitating another moment, he lifted himself off me, as if to get up. I reached for his groin, ready to grab his cock—happy to reciprocate that fantastic orgasm in any number of different ways.
But he quickly grabbed my wrist. “Don’t.”
Wait, what?
He rolled to a sitting position on the other side of the couch, leaving me with soaked panties and feeling very confused. I got up and smoothed down my hair while he rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands up and down his face.
“You don’t want… more?” My voice sounded small and timid, but my earlier rush of bravery was quickly wearing off.
“I’m okay.”
“Because we can—”
“No.” He took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair, then glanced at me. “Feel better?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Good.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t seem fine. And neither was I. My orgasm buzz was deflating like a balloon. He was sitting on the far side of the couch, like he needed to put as much distance as possible between us without actually leaving the room. Maybe that was his attempt to save my feelings. If so, it wasn’t working.
“Do you want to finish the movie?” he asked, not quite looking at me.
I gaped at him. He’d just given me an orgasm then recoiled away like he didn’t want to touch me again. And now we were going to just sit here and pretend it hadn’t happened?
“No. I think I’m going to go.”
I stood and grabbed my purse so I could find my phone. My dad’s house was probably walking distance, but I didn’t know the streets well enough to navigate in the dark. Ginny would come get me, but I didn’t want to bug her if she was still having fun. I’d just order an Uber. Were there Uber drivers in Tilikum? There had to be at least one or two. It was small, but not that small.
“Sky,” Gavin said. “You don’t have to go. Or at least let me drive you.”
He started to get up but I held out a hand. “No. Don’t, it’s fine. You should probably rest your leg.”
“But—”
“I just need to go,” I said, cutting him off.
I didn’t wait for a reply. Just walked out the door.
19
Skylar
I cast a suspicious glance at my phone, sitting on my desk. The notification light flashed, the tiny green dot making my stomach clench. Who had texted me? I wanted to look, and didn’t want to look. Wanted it to be Gavin, and didn’t want it to be Gavin.
We hadn’t talked since I’d left his house last night. I still wasn’t sure what had happened—other than he’d given me a breathtaking orgasm, then inexplicably wanted to go back to watching a movie, like nothing had happened.
I would have—
It didn’t matter what I would have done. Gavin hadn’t wanted it. Hadn’t really wanted me.
I finished getting dressed, my mind a jumble of thoughts. Physically, I still felt great, which was such a strange contrast to the state of my brain.
Finally, I took a deep breath and picked up my phone.
It wasn’t him.
Ginny: Morning, sunshine. Want to meet for breakfast?
Me: I’d love to.
Ginny: How about that cute place downtown? Bigfoot Diner?
Me: Sounds good to me.
Ginny: Meet in about half an hour?
Me: See you then.
This was good. Ginny would help me sort this out.
The sound of someone whistling greeted me when I left my bedroom. Was that Dad? Mom had been sleeping in the room across the hall, and her door was still shut. She’d never been much of a morning person, so I wasn’t surprised she wasn’t up and about yet. The whistling continued, followed by the metallic clang of a pot or pan. Was he cooking?
I went downstairs. The front rooms, which had been empty when I’d moved in, were now full of my mom’s furniture. At first, they’d just stacked everything in a haphazard jumble. But Mom had said there was no reason we should all live in a house that looked like a storage facility, even if it was only temporary. She’d talked Dad into helping her arrange her couch, chairs, and coffee table, as well as her dining room furniture.
She hadn’t gone so far as to put art on the walls or unpack all her decorative stuff. But there were a few things sitting out that hadn’t been there a couple of days ago. A photo of me and Mom sat on an end table. And there were books and a few knick-knacks on a small bookshelf in the living room.
It didn’t surprise me. Mom had always made sure her living space was not only tidy, but pretty as well.
I went back to the kitchen and found my dad, still whistling while he cooked breakfast. Bacon sizzled in a pan and there was a plate of pancakes on the counter. He cracked an eg
g into another pan.
“Morning,” I said, half wondering who this man was and what he’d done with my father. I’d been living here for a month and I’d never seen him cook, beyond reheating things or warming up packaged food.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Morning. Hungry?”
“I was going to meet Ginny for breakfast soon, but I could eat here and just order coffee.”
“Whatever works for you. It’ll be ready in a few more minutes. There’s coffee made if you want a cup now.”
“Thanks.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “What’s the occasion? Or did you just feel like having a big breakfast?”
“Bacon sounded good.” He paused to flip an egg. “I figured if I was going to make bacon, I might as well do breakfast right.”
A vague memory flitted through my mind, wafting in on the smell of coffee, bacon, and maple syrup. A memory of this very kitchen, and me at this table. My legs swinging, too short to reach the floor, a plate of pancakes in front of me. Dad cooking breakfast for the three of us while Mom sat at the table with me, sipping coffee.
“You used to make us breakfast sometimes, didn’t you?”
“He did,” Mom said, appearing in the doorway. She wore a silky floral kimono that belted at the waist. Her face was fresh and makeup-free, her hair down, but even without all her usual styling, she looked beautiful. “For a while, it was our Saturday morning tradition.”
“Yes, it was,” Dad said without turning around.
Was it just me, or was he suddenly standing up straighter? Now that I really looked at him, I noticed his shirt was neatly tucked in. And had he gotten a haircut?
Mom got herself a cup of coffee and sat next to me. She flicked quick glances at Dad while she sipped.
This whole situation was so weird. I’d never been the kid who wanted to Parent Trap her parents back together. I’d always wondered how they’d ever gotten together in the first place. Growing up, it had felt like they got along for my sake, but a simmering tension had remained between them. Once in a while, that tension had snapped, and I’d watched whatever frustrations they still carried boil over.
Rushing In: A Small Town Family Romance Page 15