Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
PENELOPE
I have lost count of how many times I thought I was going to die today. The third drive from hell wasn’t any less stressful. Different driver, same insanity. While the journey was difficult, I have to give it to Frank. He got us here. Barely. But we’re here nonetheless.
He was correct in his description of his motel. It’s nothing special. But compared to sleeping out in the cold, it’s the flipping Ritz.
We trudge through the calf-high snow. I hold my hand out in front of my face to block the pelts of wetness hitting my skin as Frank leads us to our room. Stopping in front of a door, he hands us two keys, and I thank him again.
“No problem. Have a good night.” He nods before hurrying off to no doubt see his family. He’s been anxious to get back to them, an endeavor that took longer than it should have because of his willingness to help Gunner and me.
Gunner hasn’t said a word since we left the bar, and while it’s exactly what I asked him to do, it’s annoying at the same time. I don’t know what I expect, but I want something. An apology, maybe? That’s not his style, so I’m not holding my breath for one. I’m just so angry, and now I have to share a room with the asshole, which makes me even more furious. I want to yell and scream, but that’s hard to do with someone who isn’t speaking to you. Without his rebuttal, I’m just a crazy person screaming to myself.
With a sigh, I swipe the key card across the reader above the handle, and when the green light flashes, I push the door open. Frank wasn’t lying when he said this room was being used for storage. Boxes are stacked to the ceiling along every wall, making a weird paper product fort around the bed. The one bed. My heart drops into my stomach.
“There’s only one bed,” I cry, looking around the room to make sure I didn’t miss the other one. But no—there’s probably eight trees worth of boxed toilet paper but not another bed.
Heart beating wildly, I scan the space. It is literally, a bed, boxes, and a door in the corner that leads to what I assume is the bathroom. That’s it. There’s no chair or TV or anything to do or anywhere to sit. Sure, it’s a step up from dying out in the freezing snow but not a very big one.
Unwelcomed tears fill my eyes as I stand motionless.
A husky voice breaks my trance. “Go take a shower. You’re a fucking mess.”
His words shock me out of my state. “And you’re an ass.”
I head to the bathroom anyway because it seems like the only course of action. When my mother came home a drunken mess, I would always put her in the shower. I don’t know if there’s any solid fact behind it, but it sure feels like a shower makes everything better. Mom always emerged from the shower a little more coherent.
It’s been a long, hard day, so a shower can’t hurt. Maybe it will even make my current situation seem more tolerable. My stare darts to the singular bed, and I shudder.
Somehow.
It surely can’t get any worse.
I flick on the light to the bathroom and close the door behind me, gasping when I catch sight of my reflection. “What in the actual fu…” My voice falters as I approach the mirror. I look like a rabid half zombie from some post-apocalyptic movie. Seriously, how did Frank, Gunner, or even the blue-wig kid and his friends look at me without laughing?
Note to self: invest in some quality waterproof mascara.
I pull out my hair clip and the parts that were still up fall to meet the rest of the disheveled mess that had worked its way out of the clip at some point during this horrendous night.
Turning on the water, I step in.
The warm water soothes my cool skin, and I welcome it. I already feel myself coming back to life. I wash up with the cheap bar of motel soap. It’s not my normal fancy skincare routine, but this face needs a good scrub, discount soap or not.
It’s not until I’m out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my hair and another around my body that I realize I have nothing to wear. The last thing I want to do is put that polyester skirt back on.
I open the bathroom door and peek my head out. A T-shirt comes flying toward me, and I grab it before it hits my face.
“You’re welcome.”
“Why’d you throw me your shirt?”
“Why do you think, Princess? I figured you didn’t have anything to wear unless you wear prissy business skirt ensembles in your sleep, too? In that case, I’ll take my shirt back.” He sits against the headboard, one leg bent and a book in his hand…and he’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts.
Quickly, I shut the bathroom door and take a few calming breaths before putting on the T-shirt that smells like him. I slide my panties back on and glance down at my ensemble. Thanks to Gunner’s super-tall stature, the T-shirt falls just above my knees.
“Well, it could be worse,” I mutter.
Bending at the waist, I flip my head over and scrunch my hair with the towel in an attempt to get as much water from it as possible. When my hair is as dry as it’s going to get, I hang up the towel and open the door.
I stand frozen in the doorway as Gunner makes his way toward me. His tall, massive frame is solid muscle, and I can’t help but stare as he closes the distance between us. If he wasn’t such an asshole, I’d be completely turned on right now. Becoming of his nickname, he is a beast. Every inch of his body is conditioned to perfection. Objectively, his face is quite handsome as well. His dark-black hair lies in spiky chunks, and the scruff on his face is about a week past a five-o’clock shadow. The stubble looks good on him, somehow accentuating his full lips and big brown eyes.
Yeah, if I didn’t hate Gunner Dreven with a passion, I could admit that he is sexy as hell.
“Like what you see?” His voice is deep, his question serious.
Furrowing my brows, I focus in on his eyes. “Get over yourself.”
He hands me a toothbrush, still in its package, and a mini toothpaste—two items I didn’t notice in his hand as I was ogling his body.
I step back as Gunner continues his ascent into the bathroom. “Where did you get these?”
“Frank’s wife dropped by while you used up half the water in Vancouver. Frank noticed we had no bags and thought we might need some essentials.” He dips his toothpaste-covered toothbrush under the running water before brushing.
“Well, that was nice of her. She didn’t have any extra clothes, did she?”
Gunner ignores my question and continues to brush his teeth. It’s fine. It’s obvious the question was rhetorical. I step beside him and start brushing my teeth. I take in the two of us in the mirror. As a pair, we almost fill up this small bathroom. My hair falls in ringlets over my shoulders, and I don’t miss the way Gunner’s eyes keep darting toward my reflection in the mirror.
I can’t quite read his expression. However, he’s never seen me without my hair pulled back and a face full of makeup on. Nor has he ever seen me in anything other than business attire. I’m sure I’m quite unrecognizable.
We finish brushing our teeth in this odd out-of-body experience and retreat to the room of boxes. “How are we going to do this?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“The sleeping arrangement. There’s only one bed,” I snap, gesturing to the bed before us. Not that the gesture was necessary, given it’s the only space in the room not filled with junk save for the walkway to the door and to the bathroom.
“Well, unless you’re a fan of sleeping atop boxes or can find a clean spot on the floor, there really aren’t many options.”
“You’re not sleeping with me,” I protest, and a whine that makes me cringe accompanies my words. Pull yourself together, Penny.
He releases a raspy chuckle. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
“What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?” He stares down at me, his facial features unmoving.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I feel a mixture of annoyance and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. “This is the worst day ever.” I sigh.
“It’s really that bad?” Gunner quirks a brow, and I want to slap it right off him. I feel his judgment radiating from him.
“Of course it is!” I thread my fingers through my hair and release a pent-up groan. “This has been the worst day. I shouldn’t be here. In fact, I’m sick of this stupid job. I’m the public relations manager for one of the best hockey teams in the nation, yet my entire job consists of babysitting you! A grown man who can’t keep his hands to himself! And now, we’re stuck here in this shithole for God knows how long with nothing but the items in my purse. My only choice is to sleep half-naked with a man I despise or on the floor atop carpet that probably has enough germs to start a plague. My birthday is tomorrow, and all I wanted to do was spend it at home, comfortable, in my own bed watching Friends !” An errant tear streams down my face, and I swipe the back of my hand across my cheek.
He narrows his gaze. “Don’t forget that we share a birthday, Princess, and not that I care—it’s just another day to me—but I would also rather be anywhere other than here.”
“Well, you have no one to blame but yourself for that one,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
He reaches out and pulls on the end of a lock of my hair, the movement oddly personal, especially coming from him. “You should wear your hair down more.”
“You should keep your opinions to yourself.” I glare up at him.
“You don’t need to wear all that makeup either.”
I take a step back, my eyes bulging. “And you don’t need to tell me what to do. What’s going on here? On a normal day, you communicate in grunts and scowls, and now you’re giving me advice on my appearance?”
He shakes his head, frowning. “You know, you don’t always have to be a bitch.”
My mouth falls open. “Yes, I do! Because you’re always an ass!”
Turning away from me, he gets into bed. “Get the light.”
My arms cross, and I take my defensive stance, ready to fight. Gunner and I have been in more than enough verbal sparring matches. Only after his order about the light, he says nothing else. His back is turned to me, and I have to question the insane desire within me to keep our argument going. He’s retreated and moved on, yet here I stand, ready for another round.
Maybe I am the problem?
No, it’s definitely him.
I wait for a few beats, weighing my options, and I come up short. There really is only one option.
Ugh.
After I switch off the light, I climb into bed, facing away from Gunner. I’m very aware of his back against mine, but I do everything in my power to ignore it. The room is silent save for our breaths and the violent screeches of the wind outside. This is quite a storm. I guess, being in any bed, even one with Gunner, is better than being out there.
We lay in silence for what seems like forever. Despite the exhaustion that covers me, I can’t sleep. I need to turn to my other side, but facing him isn’t an option.
I have a pinched disc in my lower back from falling an entire story and landing on the corner of hard wooden steps on my tailbone. I was eight years old when I had been leaning against the railing in the attic when it broke, causing me to fall onto the steps below. It was so painful at the time. I remember lying in bed for weeks because it hurt too much to move. I eventually healed, but I couldn’t run for almost a year. Now, it really doesn’t bother me unless I’m lifting a lot of heavy items or sleeping in the same position for too long. At home, I wake up multiple times a night to switch positions, which is not something I can do here. The two of us take up an entire bed. Not only do I have to share a bed with my enemy but it has to be a double at that. A king-sized bed would’ve been too much to ask for on this day of hell.
“Happy birthday,” Gunner whispers, and it startles me. I thought he was asleep.
Giving in, I turn to face him, and the stretch of my lower back gives me a sigh of relief. “What?” I say quietly.
Gunner turns to face me. There’s just enough ambient lighting in the dark space for me to make out his features. “It’s midnight here, so happy birthday. I mean, it was our birthday three hours ago in Michigan but just now, here.”
“You’re so strange here,” I say in response.
He looks at me in question.
“I’m just saying, you’re different. Nicer, even.”
He releases a breath. “I just don’t think constantly fighting when we’re stuck here together is the best course of action.”
“It does make our situation that much more miserable.”
“Exactly.”
I bite my lip. “So in Vancouver, we can be on a break from us.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, while we’re stuck here, we can be different people. We can pretend to enjoy one another’s company. We can use kind words?—”
He cuts me off. “You’re going to use kind words? Toward me?”
My snappy retort is on the tip of my tongue. Put it off to fatigue or birthday nostalgia or the simple fact that I’m in bed with Gunner in a glorified storage closet, but I bury the rude response and instead say, “Yes because while we’re here, you’re not the asshole I despise, and I’m not the bitch you hate. We’re just two people. Friends even.”
“It would make everything a little more bearable.”
“Right? I’m just so stressed and tired and simply don’t have the energy to hate you right now.”
He gives me another half chuckle, the second one of the evening and probably the second one I’ve ever heard leave his lips. “Whatever makes it easier on you, Penny.”
My lip tilts up. “You called me by my name.”
“That’s what fake friends do. Fake friends also give advice, and I wanted to give you some, starting with my number-one stress reliever…well, I guess number two because I’d say number one is a good workout, especially one on the ice.”
Gunner’s face, barely visible in the dim light, is mere inches from my own. I’m taken aback by how much he’s talking to me. It’s mildly unsettling, really. “What’s your number two stress-relieving advice?” I ask hesitantly.
“Sex.”
I push my hand against his chest in an effort to create some distance between us. He grabs my wrist and holds my palm against his bare skin. “What are you doing?” I whisper-shriek.
“I want you to feel how fast my heart is beating, being in this bed so close to you. I’d venture a guess that your heart is beating just as fast.”
“No, it’s not,” I lie. Holy heck, the skin on my palm is on fire from this simple touch.
“Tell me you’re not curious.” His grasp on my hand remains firm.
“I’m not at all.”
He shakes his head. “You’re lying.”
“Gunner, we can’t. That would open up a whole can of worms that neither of us wants to deal with.”
“Why? You said it yourself. We’re different people here. You’ve had a one-night stand before, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“So you enjoyed yourself with someone for one night and then left it at that. Right?”
I sigh. “Yeah, but that’s different. You and I work together. It might create issues.”
“Issues how? You’ll hate me again? That’s going to happen anyway. We’ll go back to Michigan tomorrow, and this will all be a distant memory. You can forget all about your worst day ever. But until then, we might as well make our time here a little more fun.” With one hand still holding my wrist, he lifts the other and holds it inches from my chest. “I’ll tell you what. If your heart isn’t racing as much as mine is, we’ll let it go. But if it is, we’ll continue this discussion. Can I touch your chest?”
Before I can stop my traitorous head, it nods in permission.
I suck in a breath when Gunner dips his hand under the bottom of my shirt. He doesn’t touch me as he moves his hand up my body, but the heat warms my skin all the same. His palm moves over my bare breasts, and my nipples harden, wanting to feel his touch, but he doesn’t linger. His palm presses against the skin of my chest, where my heart beats violently.
“I knew you were lying.” His words, all husky and needy, are barely a whisper.
“I’m not,” I lie again. My stubbornness fights against the inevitable. I close my eyes and revel in the sensation of his palm against my chest.
“No?”
My tongue peeks out to wet my lips as my head shakes.
“If you say so.” He leans in and says against my neck, “There is another way to figure this out. Do I have your permission?”
He doesn’t even have to say what for because I already know. “Yes,” I pant, my chest rising and falling in labored breaths.
His hand leaves my chest and skims down my body, this time touching me on its descent. Eyes still closed, I feel every inch of it down to my core. His touch is like fire, and my body is begging for the burn. The urge to explode in a fiery rage of pleasure pounds through every inch of me, and we’ve barely started. He slides his hand into my underwear, and I bite my lip, my body clenching as I wait for his touch.
He slips a finger into my wet opening. “Fuuuck me,” he groans into my neck. “You’re fucking soaked. You want me as much as I want you. Admit it.”
“I don’t,” I whine as his finger starts to move inside me. “Ahhh…” I moan as he rubs against my front wall. He inserts a second finger and pulls them out, sliding my wetness over my bundle of nerves. His two fingers enter me again as his thumb circles my clit. “Oh my God,” I pant, my hips moving to meet his thrusts. He works me until my whole body hums on the verge of release. “Tell me you want me, Penny. Say the words.”
“No.”
I feel the crescendo forming inside me, and I’m so ready to explode. He moves his fingers as the sensations build. I’m panting, feeling everything he’s giving me. I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed someone’s fingers this much. “Oh,” I cry out. I’m seconds from release.
And then it stops.
He pulls his fingers away, and it’s a splash of cold water to my libido. “What are you doing?” I gasp.
“You said you don’t want me.”
Oh, this prick.
“Gunner,” I plead, needing the release.
“No,” he states, his voice firm.
“Fine! I fucking want you, Gunner Dreven. Scratch that, I fucking need you. Now, get down there and finish what you started!”
A smile crosses his face, and I have to admit, it’s a beautiful sight.
He pulls the blankets off us and moves down between my legs. He shimmies my panties down my legs and discards them on the side of the bed. Placing his hands on my knees, he spreads me open wide. “Much better.” His fingers slide back into me, and I cry out. Only this time, it’s his tongue that moves against the most sensitive spot. Oh, and what a glorious tongue it is.
“Yes!” I scream into the lust-filled air. I can’t even comprehend what’s happening and with who because I’m so overcome with pleasure. Every hair on my body stands at attention as a wave of goose bumps covers my skin. Gunner continues to work magic with his mouth and fingers, and it’s only a matter of seconds before I’m crying out as my orgasm hits hard. He continues to lick me as I ride the waves of release.
When I’m finished, he kisses up my body, removing his shirt from me in the process, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the floor.
His mouth finds mine, and I kiss him hard, threading my fingers through his hair as our tongues move against one another. He gently bites my bottom lip and pulls his mouth away before he gets off the bed. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch him in confusion as he maneuvers toward the windows, opening the blackout curtains.
The room is illuminated with light from the moon bouncing off the white snow. Suddenly aware that I’m very naked, I pull the sheet over my body.
“What are you doing?” Gunner asks. “I want to see you.”
“Why don’t we keep it under the sheet,” I say. I’m aware that Gunner can pick up almost any woman at any given bar on most nights of the week. I’ve seen him leave with women who could be supermodels. While I feel I’ve accepted my full-figured body for the most part, there’s some buried insecurity there. In comparison, I carry more weight than the women Gunner normally sleeps with, and despite just having his face between my legs, I feel very vulnerable.
Gunner shakes his head and closes the gap between us. He rips the sheet off the bed. “Stand up,” he orders.
It’s unlike me to follow commands, but I find myself doing just that.
As I stand bare in front of Gunner, his heated stare moves from my face to my feet and back again. “You are fucking beautiful.” He presses his hands flat against my chest, running them over my shoulders, down my collarbone, and to my breasts. He holds one in each of his hands. Mouth slightly agape, he breathes heavy. He flicks my nipples with his thumbs before continuing his descent over my stomach and hips. He takes my ass in his hands and squeezes. “Your body is a fucking dream, Penny. It’s curvy, and soft, and so fucking sexy. You don’t even know how many times I’ve stared at you in your tight business suits, wanting to know what you looked like beneath it all. I need you to believe me when I tell you that you look better than I could’ve imagined.”
I nod hesitantly.
“Pull down my boxers,” he says, and I do as instructed. His massive length stands at attention. “Do you see what your body does to me?” His voice is gravelly and heavy with lust.
I nod.
“Do you see how much I want you?”
I nod again.
“You are a lot of things, Penelope Stellars, and sexy as fuck is one of them. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Good. Now suck.”
I should argue and tell him that he’s not my boss and doesn’t have the right to order me around like that, but I don’t say anything. I can’t because his hardness is in my mouth in a matter of seconds. Not because he told me to, but because I want it there. Desperately.
I want to taste him the way he tasted me. I want to please him the way he pleased me. I want to bring him to the brink of insanity and watch him fall over into pleasure. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, and I’m too insane with lust to stop and figure out what all this means.
Circling my hand around the base of his shaft, I pump my hand back and forth as my mouth takes him in as far as I can. I swirl my tongue around his tip and move it up and down over him. His head falls back, and he threads his fingers through my hair as he groans toward the ceiling. He pumps himself into my mouth as he pulls my head against him. I take him in until he’s hitting the back of my throat. I’m out of control with the need to taste him and watch him lose control. He’s so close. I press my knees together, trying to squash the pounding of desire between my legs. Seeing Gunner chase ecstasy and knowing I’m the one who’s giving it to him is the strongest aphrodisiac I’ve experienced.
Just when I think he’s going to fall into oblivion, he pulls away. “Condom,” he states.
“My purse,” I gasp between breaths.
He retrieves a condom from my purse and slides it over his length while he eyes me with a heated stare. “I don’t know how to take you,” he utters. “I want you in so many ways.” After a beat, he pushes me onto the bed so I’m facing him. He hooks one of his arms under my knee, lifting that leg back and opening me wide for him. “I want to see your face when we come.”
With that, he slides inside me, filling me up completely, and starts to move. Each movement sends a jolt of electricity through my body. I claw at his arms, wanting more.
“You want it harder?” His voice is strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take all of you. I want to feel all of you.”
He growls. “Fucking-A, Stellars. You’re going to kill me with that mouth of yours.”
He picks up the pace. His thrusts become more forceful as he slams into me, harder and harder. We both moan as he enters me over and over. It’s the most amazing feeling, and I don’t want it to stop. I’ve had my share of sex, but this, right here, is on a whole other level. It’s too good. Our bodies fit perfectly as he moves exactly how I need him to.
“I’m going to come,” I cry out, feeling the warmth of release fill every pore of my body.
“Open your eyes,” he orders, the words almost pained as he builds toward his own release. “I want to see your eyes as you come.”
My orgasm hits hard, and I hold Gunner’s stare as I scream. He crashes over into oblivion with me, his mouth falling open as he vocalizes his pleasure, never taking his eyes off me. He pulls out of me and discards the condom before plopping onto the bed beside me. The two of us lie naked next to one another, staring at the ceiling as we catch our breath.
“Happy birthday to me,” Gunner says, causing me to chuckle. “That was some amazing sex.”
“I don’t feel so stressed anymore,” I quip.
“See, I told you.”
I don’t recognize the man beside me. This is a side of him I’ve never seen in more ways than one. “Who knew you had a personality? I never knew you were more than a goal-tending, grunting beast.”
“That’s my gift to you,” he teases. “Just know, this version of me expires the second we leave this room.”
“Oh, I have no doubts about that.”
We situate ourselves on our pillows, pulling the blankets up over our naked bodies. Gunner wraps an arm around me, and I lean against his chest. Our legs intertwine with one another. I’m sated, exhausted, and a little confused, so sleep pulls me under quickly.
And it’s the best night of sleep I’ve had in a long time.