Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Jason was caught between heaven and hell. Gabby’s knee had come dangerously close to unmanning him. Most of the air whooshed out of his lungs when she landed on top of him. But with an armful of the woman he wanted, all he could feel was satisfaction and breathless anticipation.
His hands found her butt. “Hey, there, beautiful.” The words were wheezier than he’d intended them to be.
She raised up and stared at him, her gaze worried. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all,” he lied. “You feel good in my arms. Not good,” he clarified. “Great, amazing, exciting.”
Gabby smiled at him, making all the blood in his body rush south. “I don’t need a thesaurus,” she said, her tone droll.
“Then what do you need?” He let his hands roam under her sweater, caressing the plane of her back, tracing her delicate spine.
She moved restlessly. “I forgot to ask about protection,” she muttered. “I told you I’m not good at this.”
He patted his hip. “I’ve got what we need. Relax. Breathe.”
He heard her sigh as she wiggled into a comfortable position. “This is nice,” she said quietly. “Can we get started?”
Should he tell her he had been ready all day? “There’s no rush,” he said. “I like holding you.”
“I left my bra at home.”
“I noticed.” The heat streaking through his body threatened to incinerate him. What could he do to slow things down?
“Why don’t you turn on your right side?” she suggested. “That way we can look at each other.”
What would she see in his eyes, he wondered? “Sure,” he said gruffly. The seat was barely wide enough for that maneuver.
Gabby turned on her left side and faced him. She hooked one leg over his hip to keep from falling into the floor of the car. “I like looking at you,” she said. “You’re a beautiful man. You were handsome in college, but maturity suits you.”
“Ouch.” He winced theatrically. “I’m not that old, am I?”
She put one hand under his shirt and laughed softly. “You know what I mean. Is it okay if I undo your pants?”
The artless question sucked every molecule of oxygen from his lungs. He felt dizzy, and his whole body tensed, waiting for something incredible and just out of reach. “Be my guest,” he croaked.
He’d left his belt back at the house. On purpose. The logistics of this were going to be tricky. No sense adding to the task.
Gabby unbuttoned his pants and lowered the zipper. His black knit boxers were ordinary. When she reached inside and held his sex, he closed his eyes and ground out a ragged curse. “Maybe we should pause this until after the main event.”
Her eyes rounded. “Why?”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think you know why. I want to be inside you when I come.”
Something changed in her expression. He watched her process his words. Saw the way a tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips as if his confession delighted her. She leaned forward and kissed him. “I could use my hand the first time. It might be fun.”
Her fingers closed around him. Firm. Eager.
“I’m sure it would be fun ,” he said, reminding himself to breathe. “But we’ll save that for another day. Please.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Fine. Let’s be boring then.”
He laughed at her attempt to rile him. “We’re hiding out in the country in the back seat of my car on a cold December night,” he said. “I don’t think boring is the right adjective. Let me take off your pants.”
That shut her up. It was hard to tell in this light, but he thought she blushed. She was wearing thick stretchy tights. Before he tried to lower them, he rubbed her center. “This is where I want to be, sweet Gabby.”
Her moan made the hair on his arms stand up. Thick lashes fanned out on her cheeks. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “Yes.”
He grinned, though she couldn’t see his face. “You like that?” He increased the pressure, stroking her firmly, rhythmically.
Gabby’s head lolled back. Her chest heaved. “Stop,” she said.
He complied immediately. “Why?”
She opened one eye and glared at him. “Same reason as you. I’m on a hair trigger. I want us together when the fireworks go off.”
“No pressure for me,” he teased. “Okay then. Let’s get the first one out of the way so we can play.”
Both of her eyes flew open. She stared at him. “Play?”
“You don’t think once is going to be enough, do you?”
Her openmouthed astonishment told him they were going to have a lot of fun.
“I’m all yours,” she said.
The way she stared at him as he wrestled her pants and undies to her ankles and removed them increased his arousal a hundredfold. “How do you want to do this?” he asked, barely able to get the words past the lump in his throat.
“Um...” She stroked his belly, careful to avoid his pulsing arousal. “You on top is fine,” she whispered. “I’d like that.”
He swallowed hard. “Then top it is.” He sat up awkwardly, trying to give her room to move. “On your back, my lady.” He extracted protection from his pocket, rolled it on, and shimmied his pants to his hips. One of them had to stay mostly dressed in case they had to make a run for it.
With Gabby looking up at him as he settled between her thighs, he felt the huge weight of what was about to happen. She trusted him. Perhaps not in the long term, but for now. For tonight.
When he slipped two fingers inside her, he found her more than ready.
The whole situation was ludicrous. But he couldn’t have walked away if someone had held a gun to his head. He leaned down and kissed her. “You okay?”
She nodded. Her hands gripped his upper arms as he lowered his body and entered her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. When she breathed his name, he almost came right then. Instead, he tried listing states and capitals in his head.
The way her body took his, squeezed his sex, welcomed him with a soft gasp, made him shudder. The hard jolt of pleasure was incandescent. He didn’t remember ever feeling such a frantic mixture of raw sensuality and ragged need.
Gabby hadn’t said a word. When he went deep the first time, she closed her eyes. They were closed even now. He didn’t like that.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
When she did as he asked, her expression was obscured by the shadows. And she was silent.
“Gabby. Is this what you want? Do I need to stop?” He couldn’t bear the thought that she already regretted their crazy coupling.
She put a hand on his cheek. “Don’t ever stop,” she said. “This is perfect.”
After hearing validation that they both wanted the same thing, he lost his wits. His world narrowed to feeling and emotion. He thrust long and hard. Moving inside her was better than seeing Inca ruins at sunrise. In Peru he had felt exhilarated but deeply alone. With Gabby, he discovered a connection that defied logic.
When he first entered her, he worried he would be too close to the edge to please her. Now he found a deep vein of patience. He kissed her once...twice.
“Gabby,” he groaned. “Your body is amazing. So soft. So warm.”
The flash of her smile was sweet and teasing. “I can’t feel my feet,” she whispered. “But I don’t even care.”
He nuzzled her neck and nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “Should I cut to the finish? I’d hate for you to get hypothermia.”
She put both hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. “You’re very good at this. I don’t want it to be over. But...”
When he slid his hands under her ass, even her goose bumps had goose bumps. “My poor, frozen sweetheart.” He was torn between reaching for the precipice and never wanting the moment to end. He felt intoxicated, powerful...as if he could conquer the world. Yet in tandem with those embarrassingly macho urges, tenderness swamped him.
Even as his entire body quivered on the edge of bliss, he concentrated on pleasing her. With one hand, he shoved her sweater upward. Then he bent and found the sharp-nubbed tip of her breast. When he bit down, Gabby cried out. Her body convulsed around his, triggering his own almost violent release.
He came long and hard, his face buried in the curve of her neck. His lover’s fingernails sank into his shoulders. They strained against each other greedily, wringing the last drop of satisfaction from the moment.
Breathing heavily, he slumped against her.
Eventually, it was silent—even the sound of their breathing no longer audible.
He felt Gabby shiver hard.
“Oh, damn,” he said, feeling groggy. “We’ve got to get you home.” He leaned over the front seat and retrieved a handful of napkins from the glove box. “Here,” he said, offering them to his quiet partner. “Do you want me to help?”
“No,” she said, the single word scandalized. “I can do it.”
In the end, he did have to help with her leggings. There was no room to maneuver. Finally, they were both appropriately dressed. But her feet were bare.
“Where are your socks?” he asked, wondering if he had ripped them off and not remembered.
Gabby chuckled. “Nobody wears socks with ballet flats. You’re such a guy .”
He frowned. “Well, at least a guy knows to wear socks in December.” When he took her feet in his lap and rubbed them, he was more than concerned. “I’ll turn the heat on,” he said. “Your toes are probably blue.”
“I’m fine.”
Her words weren’t convincing. He climbed over to the front and then helped Gabby execute the same maneuver. “Put on your coat,” he said. Then he started the engine and bumped the heat up several notches. “Better?”
Gabby nodded as she slid her feet into those impractical shoes. “I’m fine.” She fastened her seat belt and huddled into her down jacket.
He doubted her words, but he nodded. “Then let’s go.”
Neither of them said a word during the relatively brief drive back to Dahlia’s house. At one point, he reached for Gabby’s hand and held it. Her fingers curled around his.
He felt oddly off-kilter. Almost as if this was a dream.
The very best kind of dream.
When they parked out front, he realized they had forgotten to turn off the Christmas tree. He’d made sure to dampen the fire, but apparently neither he nor Gabby had thought about the tree lights. Even the drapes were still open.
It was an appealing sight, but he was reluctant to go inside.
Gabby must have been on the same wavelength. She sighed. “Earlier you said once wasn’t going to be enough.”
“True. But I was wrong about that—given the circumstances,” he said wryly. “Perhaps if we’d had a soft, warm bed...”
“Maybe there’s a reason grown-ups don’t do it in the back seats of cars.”
“Indeed.”
By every metric, making love to Gabby tonight should have satisfied him. Especially after his long, self-imposed period of abstinence. Instead, he wanted her so badly right now his heart raced, and his body trembled.
Gabby exhaled. “We should get out,” she said. “It’s late. Even if you skip going to church, I still need to be with her tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
Once they were inside the house, things got weird. Gabby would hardly look at him. “See you in the morning,” she said, closing the curtains and scooting toward the door that exited into the hallway.
His bedding was still stacked neatly on a chair in the corner. He couldn’t even use that as a ploy to delay her.
“Don’t I get to kiss you good-night?” he asked.
Gabby gulped inwardly. This was why she didn’t indulge in casual sex. She never knew how to act when it was over.
If she was honest with herself, though, there was nothing at all casual about tonight’s shenanigans. She and Jason had done it in the back seat of his car. Was that romantic and sweet, or desperate and tawdry?
It was the third alternative that terrified her. Being with Jason tonight had been searingly intimate. Funny and entertaining, true. But the way he stroked her and held her and moved inside her had felt almost sacred.
Never had she imagined giving herself to him like that. They both had been undeniably greedy and starving for the other’s touch. He had whispered words of praise and longing and need. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her body.
But now they were standing ten feet apart.
She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
His gentle smile weakened her knees. “Well,” she said. “I don’t have much faith in our self-control.”
“Ah. Mine, or yours? Be honest.”
“Both,” she said bluntly. “If I kiss you right now, there’s a good chance I’ll drag you to my bed.”
“And that’s bad?”
“You know it is. I’m not ready for my mother to find out that you and I are sexual partners—which she would discover if the sofa was empty.”
“Sexual partners?” He grimaced. “That sounds cold. How about lovers?”
Something squeezed inside her chest. Her heartbeat fluttered. “Lovers? Is that what we are?”
When he crossed the room, she stood frozen. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his. “I want to be your lover, Gabby. Tonight was only the beginning.” His blue eyes reflected the deep cerulean of a dusky Mediterranean Sea as he stared, laser-focused. The husky, masculine tone of his voice mesmerized her.
She had always thought the image of drowning in someone’s gaze was silly hyperbole...over-the-top. This was a heck of a time to find out it was definitely possible. “Oh,” she said. Her throat was tight.
Jason smiled. He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I won’t kiss you then, Gabby. But we’re standing in my bedroom, so walk away now.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. She slid her arms around his neck. “I need you to kiss me,” she said. “I really, really do.”
Every scrap of humor left his face. His eyes darkened. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You’re not being fair,” he growled. “Mixed messages.”
“I know.” She leaned her cheek against his collarbone. “I know.” She exhaled, feeling a rush of power that was as foreign as it was delightful. “Maybe you ought to spank me for being so unfair to you.”
His entire body went rigid. The way his hands tightened on her arms told her he was nearing the edge. “Damn it, Gabby. This isn’t funny.” He dragged her closer, close enough for her to feel the press of his erection against her belly. “I’m trying to give you what you asked for.”
She went up on her tiptoes. “Maybe I was wrong.”
When her lips met his, she could swear a coal in the fire hissed. Heat consumed her from the inside out as Jason resisted, his mouth unresponsive.
He was strong and honorable. She knew that much. But the moment he broke was unmistakable. As he growled her name, his arm tightened around her waist, binding her to him. The way he took charge of the kiss was enough to make a woman swoon.
The man knew how to kiss. And honestly, his intensity was flattering. It was as if he had been marooned alone on a remote desert island, and she was the first woman he had seen in years.
Even as his mouth conquered hers, his hands were everywhere. Cupping her ass. Tangling in her hair. When she tried to breathe, he held her chin and took the kiss deeper still. “You don’t make things easy, do you, Gabby?”
She pulled back, wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”
His gaze was wry, his eyes hooded. “You try so hard to be the good girl and tell me what we should do, but...”
“But what?” She frowned.
He cupped her face in one hand. “But a wilder Gabby—maybe Gabriella —keeps trying to escape that airtight box you’ve kept her in. You’re not a tight-ass, by-the-book woman. Not really. Every time I touch you, it’s like letting a genie out of a bottle. A hot, out-of-control, explosive version of yourself.”
The picture he painted threatened her composure. Out of control? That couldn’t be right. Control was the fuel that kept her life chugging along the track.
“I’m not out of control,” she said, the words almost sharp. “I’m merely reaching for what I want. I thought you’d be on board with that.”
“I’m on board,” he said. “But I’m wondering if you’re going to jerk the rug out from under my feet.”
“That’s not very nice,” she muttered.
“But fair. You talk about dragging me to your bed, yet in the same breath tell me I can’t kiss you. What’s a guy supposed to think?”
She realized he was right. Her words and actions were all over the map. For someone who had always been the smartest person in every class she took, tonight was a lesson in humility. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s possible I’m completely out of my depth. I’ll say good-night.” She was embarrassed and exhausted and confused. Wanting Jason Brightman had scrambled her brain.
He tunneled his hands in her hair and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. Being horny never killed anyone.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” she muttered.
Jason chuckled. “Some guys might try to argue the point, but don’t worry. It’s true. Good night, Gabby. Sleep well and have sweet dreams. Things always look better in the morning.” He leaned in to kiss her on the lips but jerked back at the last moment. “Go,” he said, his eyes glittering. “Go.”
She turned and fled.
In her room, fatigue rolled over her in a crashing wave. It was all she could do to strip down and climb under the covers. Feeling clean would have been nice, but if her mother woke up, Gabby had no convincing explanation for why she would be showering at two thirty in the morning.
When she finally got still and found a comfy position, the quiet in her room made it possible to hear other things. The crack and pop of the house as the temperature dropped outside. The creaking floorboards as Jason crisscrossed the living room. Shouldn’t he be settled on the sofa by now?
Her body felt strange. Half of her hovered on the verge of sleep. The other half kept reminding her what it felt like to make love to Jason.
It was every bit as amazing as she’d always imagined.
Which meant she had made a big mistake. Now that she knew, it was going to be so very hard to be smart about this situation.
Men liked sex. Jason had gone without for a long time. Gabby was convenient. That didn’t mean he was her soulmate. She didn’t even believe in soulmates.
Sex was about body parts. And orgasms.
She repeated that lecture to herself three times before she gave up. It didn’t matter how much she tried to be sensible. Her silly heart yearned.
Still, the truth was the truth. This was only physical. She and Jason were young and healthy and shared a biological attraction. It made sense that they had indulged tonight.
But what about the future?
She’d told herself over the years that she was happiest on her own. That if she let a man into her bed and her heart, he would try to change her or control her. Spending nights with a carton of ice cream and a Netflix subscription had seemed the smartest choice.
Maybe the truth was more embarrassing. Maybe no man had ever lived up to her fantasy image of Jason. It was easy to say no to guys who didn’t make her body shiver with longing.
Things were different now. Now she knew . Jason was her physical match. Their bodies were in sync. Who cared about more lofty emotions? She didn’t love Jason. No way would she let that happen. She wasn’t stupid.
But intimacy with him? Oh, yeah. That’s what she wanted for Christmas. If Santa was listening, every item on her list was the same:
Sex with Jason
Sex with Jason
Sex with Jason
How did she go forward from tonight? Did she invite him to a sleepover at her apartment? Was his place far enough along for visitors? Was she willing to go to some fancy hotel room and buy privacy?
This whole situation was way outside her comfort zone. And great sex with Jason wasn’t comfortable at all. She touched her breast beneath the sheet and sighed.
Was Jason right? Did she truly become a different, out-of-control woman when they were intimate? If so, that was terrifying. She’d been wary of dropping her guard with him, and now look where they were. Even if his lovemaking turned her inside out, could she possibly find a way to control the uncontrollable?
She didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for once, she was determined to live in the moment. Maybe even let him take the lead. It might be scary and unsettling, but Jason was worth it...