Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
GUNNER
T he Gunner Dreven Good Deeds tour is getting old. Penny has been a pain in my ass for weeks now, scheduling one thing after another to prove I’m not the asshole I am. The fact that the photo that caused this all was fabricated is icing on the cake. Though, I suppose it doesn’t matter. I may not have shoved the guy in Florida, but I’ve put my hands on more than a few douches in my day as the Crane goalie. Maybe, as she said, this tour is overdue. Regardless, I’m ready for it to be over.
Not only do we have a several-day break in our play schedule but we’ve also had a rare stretch of warmer days for March. Something that Penny has made sure to take advantage of. The past two days have included the entire team as we work under our nonprofit building company Cranes Cares. Admittedly, the project is pretty cool. One of the animal rescues in Detroit acquired some land from a generous donor and is building a second kennel so they can take in more dogs. The kennel is almost finished, and it’s a beautiful facility. The team is putting the finishing touches on the place today. We’re installing the light fixtures, kennel doors, and outside fencing. By the time we leave tonight, they’ll be ready for their grand opening this weekend.
Yesterday morning consisted of digging holes, mixing concrete, pouring the concrete into the hole, and placing the metal posts in said concrete. Now that the concrete has dried, we’re attaching the chain-link fence to the posts to create a run for each kennel.
“Where did the other pair of pliers go?” I ask Max.
He works on his section of the fence. “I don’t know, man.” He looks around. “I think I saw J-Man with a pair a minute ago.”
I pull off my work gloves and drop them to the ground. “It’s fine. I saw a couple of pairs in a toolbox in the supply closet.”
On the way back to the kennel, I roll my shoulders and bend my head to each side, stretching my stiff neck. This project has me using muscles I’m not used to working. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve barely taken a break in two days. I didn’t want to risk the press snapping a picture I wasn’t in. This is all to clean up my image, after all. The cameras have all gone since our project is reaching completion, and I feel a sense of relief.
The toolbox sits on a shelf in the back of the large walk-in closet. Opening the metal lid, I riffle through it for another pair of pliers.
Someone enters the closet, and I don’t have to turn around to know it’s her. The air in the space changes when she enters.
“I just need to find the light bulbs,” she grumbles.
A clear Tupperware bin of light bulbs sits on the top shelf to my right. “These?” I nod toward the bin as I turn around to face her.
“Yes. Can you hand them to me, please?” She stares up at me with her wide doe eyes.
I take her in; my gaze scans her from top to bottom. I’m glad to see she’s ditched her usual uniform of a tight skirt and a fancy blouse. However, her pants and top are still more appropriate for an office than a worksite. The heels she wears not only look incredibly uncomfortable but they also make her at least two inches taller. And that damn twist of her hair.
“Why didn’t you wear something more comfortable to work in?” I ask.
“Why are you asking me questions about my attire instead of handing me the light bulbs?” she snaps.
Leaving the plastic bin in its place on the top shelf, I take a step toward her. “Why don’t you ever wear your hair down or in anything other than this twist?” The question leaves my lips before I can stop it. It was an intrusive thought that I had no right voicing, evident by her appalled gasp. But what’s done is done, and at this point, I’m committing to wherever this line of questioning takes me.
“Are you serious right now? Give me the damn light bulbs, Dreven,” she orders, her brows furrowed.
“Princess, I just want to know. Doesn’t your head hurt with the hair wound so tightly like that all the time?”
“Do not call me that,” she warns under her breath.
I take another step toward her. “Do you ever think about Vancouver?”
She’s utterly shocked. “No! I don’t. And neither should you. Now give me the light bulbs or move so I can get them myself.”
I take a step to the side, allowing her to pass. Her heels click against the tiled floor as she hurries past me. She reaches for the shelf over her head, but it’s just out of grasp. Stepping up behind her, I grab her waist and lift her.
Shrieking, she hits my arms. “Oh my God, what are you doing? Put me down!”
“I’m helping you reach them.”
She kicks her leg back, and her pointy heel goes into my shin. I grunt when the burst of pain hits me. “Put me down, now,” she seethes.
This time, I do as instructed. Only, I don’t step back. Leaning my arms against the metal shelving, I cage her in.
She turns to face me. “What are you doing? Most days, I can’t get two words from you, and the ones I get aren’t very nice. Now, you’re asking me about Vancouver and picking me up. What the hell is going on, Dreven?”
Maybe I’m going insane, or maybe being alone with her in this small space is doing something to me. I can smell her perfume and the shampoo she uses on her hair. Images of her curly red locks falling over her bare shoulders and ample breasts have me instantly hard.
What. The. Fuck?
“Take your hair down,” I order, my voice heavy with need.
“What? No.” Her response is firm, but her voice shakes, and she doesn’t move.
It’s not just images of her hair flashing through my mind. Every minute we were together in Vancouver plays in my head like a highlight reel. Images that I’ve worked to bury deep explode in my mind in full color, and I’m insane with need—for her. It’s almost painful, this desire. An ounce of rational thought left in me tells me to walk away, but I ignore it in favor of every other part of me that wants to stay.
“The hair. Now.”
This time, she listens. Her full lips part as she breathes heavy. Lifting her arms, she removes a clip from her hair. It falls from the twist and tumbles down over her shoulders.
I thread my fingers through her hair, running them along her scalp as I shake her curls loose. She closes her eyes and releases a soft moan. Leaning in, I press my lips against hers. I slide my tongue between her lips, requesting access, and she grants it. As my tongue slides into her mouth, her body melts against mine. Our tongues twist as our lips devour one another. With each little whimper that slides from her mouth into mine, my need for her grows.
“Tell me to take off your shirt,” I order against her lips.
“Take off my shirt.”
I move my mouth from hers and stare at her, fascinated. She leans against the shelf, her eyes closed as her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. I unbutton her blouse. I splay my hands against her soft skin and move my hands up her torso, over her bra, and to her shoulders until her shirt falls to the ground.
“Lock the door,” she pants as my fingers burn circles over her skin.
“Yeah. Tell me to take off your bra.”
“Take it off.”
The second her bra falls, my mouth is on one nipple while my hand tugs at the other.
She threads her fingers through my hair, holding my head against her chest as I suck. “We have to hurry.”
I release her nipple with a final flick of my tongue. “Take off your pants,” I say as I unzip mine.
“This is stupid. We should stop,” she says as she wiggles out of her slacks and panties, leaving her completely bare.
“It is, and we should.” I dip my hand between her legs and slide my finger inside. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” Her voice shakes as I work my finger inside her, my thumb giving attention to her bundle of nerves.
“This isn’t Vancouver, Penny.”
“I know.”
“This changes things.”
She clings to my forearms as her body starts to tremble. “I know.”
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper into her ear as her body shakes hard.
“Make me feel,” she whines.
I rub her clit with a little more force, and she explodes. My free hand covers her mouth as she falls over the edge into oblivion, coming all over my fingers. Removing my hand, I circle both my hands under her ass and lift her. Her legs wrap around my hips as I slide into her. Turning us toward the back of the closet, I push her against the back wall and thrust inside her. She feels so good. I’ve never had better. Something about Penny is utterly intoxicating.
I bury my face into her neck and pound into her. Clamping my mouth shut, I hold in my sounds. Stars burst behind my eyelids as I explode inside her.
We stay connected in this embrace as I come down from my orgasm. God, that was fucking good.
Penny’s eyes go wide as she looks over my shoulder. I whip my head around just in time to see Bash slamming the door shut.
“Fuck,” I groan, sliding out of Penny. Her legs unwrap from my hips, and her feet hit the floor.
She pushes my chest and hurries around me, snatching her clothes off the floor. “I told you to lock the damn door!” she whisper-yells.
“No, you didn’t. You told me that you locked the door.”
She furrows her brows and glares. “What? No, I said, lock the door .”
“No, you said, I locked the door .”
She makes quick work of dressing. “I never said I.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I know I didn’t because I knew that I didn’t lock the damn door, Gunner. It’s why I told you to lock it!” She runs her palms against her head, pulling her hair back tight before twisting it up and securing it with the clip. “I can’t believe this is happening. This was so stupid. What were we thinking?”
“I’m going to kill that little shit.” I button my jeans.
“You better make sure he doesn’t tell anyone. I could lose my job and, worse, my pride. Ugh, I am so stupid!” She smooths her hand over her shirt and again over her hair.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say.
“You better.”
I nod toward the bin of light bulbs. “You want those light bulbs now?”
“No. I’m heading straight to my car and getting the hell out of here. I’m going home to take a long bath and forget this ever happened.” She points her finger my way. “Fix this.”
With that, she’s gone.
Grabbing the pliers, I exit the closet.
The second I step outside, there’s a round of hoots and hollers as the team cheers.
Well, shit…