She wanted Gabe again. This time, she couldn’t blame intoxication. It was all him, the way he moved, the way he laughed, the way he looked in his grungy T-shirt and fitted jeans. Her lips crashed to his, their mouths parted, and his tongue found hers—oh God, the way he kissed.
Ellie pushed her hands underneath his T-shirt and scratched her fingernails along his rippled abs, then tracked them upward to his nipples. Her tickles sent a shudder through him and he chuckled into her mouth. He pulled his mouth away only long enough to reach his arm behind his head and pull his T-shirt off, treating her to the view of his upper body. He was all tanned skin, firm muscle, and soft golden hair that peppered his chest and stomach.
Their separation was short-lived, however, as he pulled her close again, kissing her so hard that she knew his lips might bruise hers. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, and before she knew it, her shorts had followed suit, and sat in a pile at her feet. Their kisses were frantic. Their hands frenzied as they traveled and became reacquainted with each other’s bodies.
Ellie undid his jeans and pushed them over his hips. He lifted her onto the table. She reached for her purse that was hanging on her chair and pulled out the condom she’d hopefully put there before leaving her bedroom.
Gabe chuckled, taking it from her. “You’re so helpful,” he murmured against her lips.
“Always be prepared,” she told him. “That’s my motto.”
“Good motto.” All humor vacated his expression, and he took his place between her knees. She watched, riveted, as he lowered his pants and boxers. She watched as his cock sprung free, released from the tensile material, and he covered himself with the latex.
With his free hand, he grasped for the band of her panties, and she lifted her hips obediently so he could peel them away from her. He tossed the satin to the floor. Taking her ankle, he rested her foot on the tabletop, and then the other, so that her legs were spread and she was revealed to him. He grabbed her hips, aligning her with him, and pushed inside of her.
Ellie sighed with the sweet relief of him filling her, stretching her to his size. He stilled for a moment, and she was grateful for it—she needed to learn how to breathe again.
“Ah, Ellie,” Gabe muttered, his voice thick and heavy with pleasure. “You feel fucking incredible. I didn’t think I’d get another chance with you.”
“Neither did I,” Ellie concurred. “But if you don’t move soon, I might explode.”
“You got it,” he promised, pulling back, extracting most of his length from her, and then filling her again, drawing a loud cry from between her lips.
Increasing his tempo and the force behind his powerful thrusts, he took her hard, furiously, and his hips slammed into her. He leaned over her, kissing her—his lips brushing against the sensitized skin of her jaw, throat, shoulders, setting her nerve endings ablaze. Gabe buried his face in the delicate crevice between her shoulder and neck, and Ellie inhaled deeply, pulling his scent—a heady mix of soap and sweat—deeply into her lungs. In an attempt to preserve it, keep him with her forever, she held her breath, until pleasure forced it from her lungs.
The slap of his flesh against hers and their bodies against the wall mingled with the sound of their heavy breaths and curses to make an erotic orchestra of sound that filled his kitchen and surrounded them.
The table was sturdy, but Ellie wasn’t sure it would survive their impact as their still-filled water glasses fell to the tiled floor, sending water and splinters of glass everywhere. The mess barely registered to Ellie, however, as all she could focus on was Gabe’s delicious assault.
Ellie tried her best to keep her feet on the table, but with the wild movements of his driving hips it was difficult, so instead, she locked her legs around his waist and pulled him in, pulled him deeper. She closed her eyes and felt him all around her, pressed against her. She was completely wrapped up, surrounded by him—the feel of his touch, his moans in her ear, his taste all combined to completely take her over.
Ellie felt the beginnings of her orgasm tremble low in her belly and in a desperate attempt to chase her own pleasure, she lifted her hips in time with his, and Gabe’s own movements became faster, more erratic, as he cursed helplessly in her ear. The pleasurable, exhausting warmth took over and Ellie felt herself breach the point of no return, and she cried out. With just a couple more pumps, Gabe followed her over the edge with a coarse shout, his neck stretched, veins protruding, before he stilled and collapsed over her.
As Ellie caught her breath, Gabe pushed himself from her body. Ellie sat up and took in the broken glass on the floor and their clothing thrown about the kitchen.
Gabe tossed the condom and pulled on his pants and boxers. “Sorry about that,” he told her, his shoulders rapidly rising and falling in an attempt to catch his breath.
“I wasn’t complaining.” Ellie stood on the floor.
“Watch the glass,” he told her, grabbing a broom and dustpan from a tall cupboard.
She gingerly stepped around the table, collecting her clothing and dressing as Gabe cleaned up. “Why are you sorry?”
Gabe disposed of the last bit of glass. “I just lost control there.” He shook his head and wiped his hands. “It seems to happen quite a bit around you.”
Ellie paused before pulling on her shirt. She looked at Gabe, wavy hair tousled, shirtless, wearing his worn, low-slung jeans. She was just feeling the glow of her orgasm dissipate, but she wanted him again. “You bring it out in me, too.”
Ellie exhaled, forcing all of the erotic thoughts from her psyche. She couldn’t let a man, no matter how amazing Gabe was, sidetrack her image rehabilitation, her relationship with her father, or any of her goals. She’d known Gabe for less than twenty-four hours. And already she’d married him, and had been reduced to a needy, quivering mess around him. She took one final look at his shirtless form and grabbed her purse. “Uh,” she stammered. “Listen, I’m glad we’re on the same page with the annulment. But I need to leave. Thanks for the water,” she said feebly. “And everything else.”
He frowned. “You sure?” He took several steps and came to stand in front of her.
“Am I sure about what?”
“About leaving. Why don’t you stay?”
She couldn’t. She had to leave, get away from his influence, before she threw everything away for the man before her.
“Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. “You are my wife. We’re still married, at least until we get before the courts.”
Despite herself, Ellie smiled, and the spark of desire within her rekindled as he stroked the pulse point on her wrist with his thumb. And with one small action, several short words, Gabe had almost won.
Almost.
Ellie gripped her purse strap in her fist and took a step back. She wanted nothing more than to stay, but she couldn’t. Gabe’s power over her was dangerous, but she had to focus her attention on her goals, her future. And the sooner she put this incident behind her, the closer she’d be to everything she wanted.
“I have to go.”
“I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
“Monday?” she asked.
His smile was crooked. “At the club,” he told her. “I’ll give you the annulment papers.”
Ellie was dumbfounded by how she’d managed to forget her reasons for meeting him again. But she would have to keep her senses about her. There was no way she could let herself fall for his charms again. Everything was riding on it.
She hoped she was strong enough to resist him.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT MAY HAVE only been 8:15, but Ellie was already running late for work on Monday morning. Not a great start to her week. She ran a brush through her tangled hair and leaned close to her mirror, examining the tired dark circles under her eyes. Her complexion was dull—the result of a lack of sleep and dehydration, and she hurriedly app
lied some concealer and blush. With just enough time to pour some iced coffee into her travel mug, she was on the road before traffic hit gridlock time.
The quiet confines of her car, however, again let her mind drift to Gabe. She had to see him that night, and while she was glad to put their massive mistake—their marriage—behind her, she knew that if she saw him again, she probably wouldn’t be able to stop herself from fucking him. Her track record showed that. She blew out a heavy breath and tried to stop thinking about him. She turned the corner toward Burnham & Associates. It was time to get her game face on, and get to work.
As she’d learned during her first weeks at Burnham & Associates, most of the junior attorneys worked long, tough hours. That was fine with her. She’d made it through law school; she knew how to function with little sleep, and coffee was her new best friend. This was the career she’d chosen. She would do it, and she would do it with a smile on her face.
Twenty minutes later, she pushed into her office and saw an email from her father, requesting her presence at a meeting in his office at 8:45 to meet her new mentor at the firm. It was the first time her father had summoned her for anything professionally. Ellie had to dismiss the voice in her head that told her that it was only because her father was one of the founders.
“You graduated at the top of your class,” Ellie said aloud in her empty office, as a reminder to herself that there was a reason she’d been hired, beyond nepotism. “You’re here because you’re good at what you do, and you have a promising career ahead of you.” Sure, she had secured a spot at a top firm because her father was a founding partner. But she’d still interviewed like anyone else. She’d studied hard and gotten the grades just like anyone else. “You deserve to be here,” she told herself.
She took a deep breath after her pep talk, as she won today’s daily fight against imposter syndrome. Some mornings, it worked; others, it didn’t. And those mornings just made her work harder. But that didn’t mean she didn’t see the looks from the other associates, or hear their cutting words, that she owed her success to nepotism, or that she was a daddy’s girl. They had no idea how far from the truth that was. Keeping her head down, and not getting involved with office gossip and jealousy, she would do her work. She had a lot to prove—to her father, to her coworkers and mostly to herself.
* * *
Gabe drank his coffee and rubbed his tired eyes. The past weekend had taken a lot from him—physically, emotionally, mentally. Sleep had eluded him. Every time he’d closed his eyes, he saw Ellie. He could still smell her in his kitchen, feel her, like she was still there.
He’d started the filing for their annulment, and hopefully when it was all settled, he could put it and her behind him. Not because he didn’t want to see her, but she affected his focus. He was on the cusp of getting everything he wanted, everything he’d worked for, and he couldn’t screw it up now.
It was his first day back after the Hong Kong trip, and looking over his agenda, Gabe saw the one-hundred-and-one things to do that day, and every day for the rest of the week, the month. That was fine. He’d been working sixty-hour weeks since he’d started at Burnham & Associates as a junior associate, just out of law school. And making partner wouldn’t reduce his workload any. Research, filings, client meetings came with the territory, and he was ready to get back to it.
He tried to start in on his to-do list, in an attempt to make at least a small dent in it. But he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on track. He drummed his restless fingers on his desk. And that didn’t make the stack of files miraculously become any shorter. He looked at his computer monitor. The blank document he had open mocked him. It was barely past eight thirty, and already he was restless, bored and he wanted to get the hell out of his office. Maybe he should have taken a personal day, but potential partners didn’t take personal days. He could have hit the gym, or the road on his motorcycle. Both things normally helped clear his mind. But it was nowhere close to quitting time, especially on his first day back. All he could think about was Ellie—his wife—who had quickly fled his house after he fucked her on his kitchen table.
“Focus, goddammit,” he chastised himself in his empty office. He really had to get to work, or he wouldn’t have a job to worry about.
He knew the meeting he was about to have with Charles Burnham would probably change his career. But he couldn’t shake the flashes of Ellie that cruised unabated through his mind. His gut clenched in response and he blew out a harsh, frustrated breath. Why had she walked out on him? In a moment of weakness, he’d asked her to stay with him, and he knew it was for the best that she didn’t—but tell that to his empty bed as he’d spent Saturday and Sunday night tossing sleeplessly.
It would be stupid to think that there had been something special between them. Hell, they’d had a one-night stand—well, a two-night stand—and he’d been so taken by her, he’d gotten drunk enough to suggest heading to the chapel.
An annulment was the only option; getting married after too much champagne was perhaps the stupidest thing he’d ever done, and he had to put it behind him quickly and quietly before Charles or any of his clients found out. The works were in motion, but it would have to wait—he checked his watch—it was time for his Monday briefing with Charles.
Tension formed a tight band across his forehead, and Gabe rubbed his temples, reached into his drawer and shook a couple of aspirins into his hand. He popped them into his mouth, swallowing them with a mouthful of hot, black coffee.
Gabe took the elevator up to Charles Burnham’s office. As his father’s partner, Charles had been a fixture in Gabe’s life since he’d been a child. He’d become Gabe’s professional mentor, and with Charles, he shared perhaps a closer relationship than he had with his own father.
Charles’s assistant let him into the office. The older man was sitting behind his desk. He stood, and gestured him toward a sitting area on the other side of his large office. As Charles greeted him, Gabe again found himself distracted by thoughts of Ellie. He took a deep breath and blinked hard, again finding himself trying to banish her image from his mind. He had to focus on work. The work, and nothing else. This was it.
Since leaving law school in London and moving back to Las Vegas, he’d had a very clear career path—sure, it was one predetermined by his father and Charles Burnham—that had led him to where he was, and he knew that he would be the next partner at Burnham & Associates. Becoming partner was the smart thing to do—the responsible thing. He sighed. Part of him was sick of doing the right thing. He thought again of his time with Ellie. And how it was the most fucking fun he’d had in a long, long time.
“Gabe, how are you?” his mentor asked, walking to the wet bar in his opulent office, and even though it was well before lunch, he poured each of them a finger of scotch from a crystal decanter. He paused, midpour, looking at Gabe’s face, studied him and frowned. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine,” Gabe insisted. Charles was a smart, observant man. It was as if he could see the debauchery of his weekend written on his face. But instead he moved on.
“I just wanted to see how you’re settling in since returning from Hong Kong. You did fabulous work there. It must have been a nice change of scenery for you.”
“It’s not like I had a chance to see much of it,” Gabe admitted. “I spent most of it in the suite working. Now I have to play catch-up on everything I missed here.”
Charles smiled. “That would have been my response, too. How’s the workload?”
“It’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to.”
“It’s admirable what you accomplished while you were away. Fantastic job on the merger,” Charles told him, moving on and concentrating on the scotch. “You’ve made a lot of people very happy, and very rich.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s spectacular how far you’ve come at such a young age. You know after the partners vote, you’ll be the y
oungest partner in the history of the firm.”
“Thank you, sir.” At Burnham & Associates, the path between being an associate and a partner was long and intensive. And partners were long-serving, not leaving many opportunities to join their ranks. Charles’s smile was large, and dimpled his cheeks. Weirdly, it somehow reminded him of Ellie. God, he had to get his head in the game. This was what he’d worked toward his entire life. Why couldn’t he think about anything but the woman? He cleared his parched throat and sipped on the scotch. “And I’m grateful for the opportunity, so early in my career.” In his own ears, he could hear that his words weren’t sincere. They sounded hollow—foreign—coming out of his mouth. As he thought of Ellie, lying below him on his table, work was the furthest thing from his mind.
“Gabe, in your short time here, you’ve brought in some extremely valuable clients. That’s made you an asset to us, and I know that you are the future of this firm.”
Gabe did have many clients, and many of them were rich and powerful, trusting Gabe with their legal matters. But from the small way Charles’s face changed minutely—his narrowed eyes, the almost imperceptible downturn of his lips, the way his voice became clipped—Gabe knew that Charles was talking about the Brotherhood. Gabe represented each of their business and personal interests, and it was known that they were his friends, but what wasn’t as known by Charles and his family, all staunchly conservative, was that Gabe was also part owner in the group’s businesses. He’d kept that strictly under wraps, hidden from the general public, especially from his boss and family, and his other clients. He was pretty sure that none of them would appreciate the fact that the firm’s newest partner was one of the owners of the city’s most popular erotic venues.
“Of course,” Charles continued, his indulgent smile returning. “The partners all have to vote, but unless you do anything to change my mind, I think you’ll fit right in at the top.”
“Yes, sir,” Gabe said. He sipped his scotch, knowing that the past weekend would, no doubt, change Charles’s mind.
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