Chapter 7 #2
“I can’t think when you do that.” Dazed dark-green eyes stared at him.
“Don’t think, then.” He threw some money on the bar to cover the check and rose, pulling her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Grasping her hand, he didn’t wait for her answer, but dragged her along with him.
Outside, the night air was hot, humid. Clear and sultry as only a Southern summer night can be.
Late as it was, the street in front of the bar was devoid of traffic.
They crossed it quickly, almost silently, their shoes scraping on the rough pavement.
An ambulance siren wailed in the distance.
Reaching his car, Devlin pushed her back against the door and stared at her good and long.
She hadn’t spoken a word since he’d hauled her out of the bar.
He couldn’t say what prompted him to ask the next question, because he didn’t want to hear it if her answer was no. “Are you sure about this?”
She didn’t answer with words. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, a woman who knew what she wanted and meant to get it.
He drew her closer, until he felt her breasts crushed to his chest, the welcome pressure as he cupped her ass and settled her tightly against him.
Sweet and wicked at once, she tasted of temptation and midnight sin.
And she kissed like a fantasy lover. Her tongue darted inside his mouth, teasing, arousing, flirting with him and begging for more.
He caressed her ass, drawing her even closer, and met her tongue’s parries with some lingering thrusts of his own.
The blood pounded in his veins, and he shot straight into sensual overload.
If he didn’t stop kissing her now, they’d be courting a public indecency charge in a matter of minutes.
“The next time I kiss you,” he said, indulging in a last caress at the corner of her mouth, “you’ll be wearing a lot fewer clothes.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
Smiling, he unlocked the car door and let her in.
“A promise.” He didn’t ask, but drove to her place since it was a good five minutes closer.
Right now five minutes seemed like a long time.
Devlin couldn’t remember wanting to make love with a woman this badly.
Ever. Even half-crazed from lust, it worried him.
But not enough to make him forget the idea.
Not eager to wreck his car on the way, he kept his hands off her.
Gabrielle had no such worries. She scooted over as close as the bucket seats would allow and snuggled her head against his shoulder.
It surprised him, because it bespoke affection rather than passion, but her hand on his thigh wasn’t innocent by a long shot.
“Are you trying to make me have a wreck?” he asked, barely maintaining control.
“Drive faster.” She kissed his neck and trailed wicked fingers over his thigh.
“My insurance—” he began, and sucked in his breath as her hand caressed him, edging so close to his erection, he thought he’d die. To hell with insurance rates, he thought, and put his foot down.
They made it inside her house before he started ripping off her clothes.
Barely. He pushed her up against the door and kissed her, possessing her mouth as he wanted to possess her entire body.
Fumbling at the buttons of her blouse, he felt as if it were the first time he’d ever undressed a woman.
Slow down, he told himself, but he wasn’t sure he could. Where were all his practiced moves?
The flesh-colored wisp of a Midnight and Lace specialty demi-bra cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands.
Devlin popped the clasp open and spread the bra wide, watching her nipples tighten under his scrutiny.
Beautiful breasts, lush, full, with dusky rose aureolas begging for him to taste them.
He bent his head and took a taut peak in his mouth, sucking, swirling his tongue over the tip while she moaned his name.
Her hands were in his hair, clutching his head tightly to her breasts.
“Devlin.” This time she gasped it. “We—I?—”
She groaned as he trailed his lips to her other breast, slid his hand under her skirt, and dipped it inside her panties. His fingers slipped over her slick, warm skin, before he parted her feminine flesh and thrust a finger inside. She was paradise. Hot, wet, and waiting for him.
“I need to . . . lie down.” Another moan came, steamy and low in her throat as he caressed her. “Devlin.” Her hands gripped and released his shoulders convulsively, until he became aware of where they were and what he was doing.
He was about to take her standing up against the door.
God, he was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.
He kissed her mouth and swung her up in his arms, praying the bedroom wasn’t far.
A few moments later he laid her on the bed and followed her down, his aching flesh resting firmly against her burgeoning warmth.
Her hands slid over his shoulders again, then fell back to the bed.
Devlin buried his face in her neck, breathed in her scent, somewhere between sweet and spicy and uniquely hers.
She felt soft, so soft. Boneless and willing beneath him.
Craving the taste of her, he sucked her nipple, rolled it with his tongue.
She groaned and arched her back, her breast rising up to meet him.
Her skin like satin against his lips, he tasted the underside of one breast as he moved to the other.
She was completely relaxed, languorous, his to do with as he’d been dreaming about since he met her.
His conscience set up an annoying buzz that he tried unsuccessfully to ignore. Devlin raised his head from her breasts and looked at Gabrielle. In the indirect lighting thrown from the hallway, he could see that her eyes were closed. Willing? Or drunk?
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, staring down at her.
Her lips were swollen, rosy and inviting.
Slowly her lids fluttered open. Deep green eyes, hazy, unfocused.
She hadn’t seemed that drunk in the bar.
Loosened up, maybe, but not drunk. Right, his interfering alter ego argued.
That’s why last night she said no and tonight she’s jumping your bones, you idiot.
Perfectly reasonable. “What made you change your mind?”
Still hazy, she gazed at him, smiling. Then she giggled.
Giggling was a bad sign. A very bad sign. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Gabrielle, answer me. Why tonight? Why not last night?”
“D’licious.” She ran her tongue over her lips and giggled again. “Irresistible.”
Worse and worse. He groaned and rested his forehead against hers.
Delicious? Irresistible? The Gabrielle he knew would never have said that.
Unless she’d imbibed too much of that wine.
The giggling clinched it. Why the sudden attack of scruples?
She was a grown woman. Even drunk, she was bound to have realized what would happen.
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
Her mouth, not to mention her body, tempted the hell out of him.
“Kiss me,” she whispered again, putting her arms around his neck.
So he kissed her, doing his best to block out everything but the feel of her beneath him, the sweet lingering taste of her flesh, of her mouth.
It didn’t work. He stopped kissing her and looked at her again.
Crap. She was so vulnerable, so trusting, he knew he couldn’t do it.
Why did he think of Gabrielle as vulnerable?
She was the Queen of Sharks. The least vulnerable woman he knew.
Was this his punishment for all of the lousy things he’d ever done in his life?
The conscience he thought he didn’t have had picked a hell of a time to go active on him.
Cursing under his breath, he rolled off her and sat up.
Her eyes had closed again. A faint smile curved those luscious lips.
Her clothes were a disaster, half on, half off, twisted around her slim body.
If he didn’t do something, she’d sleep all night like that.
Devlin couldn’t fathom why that bothered him, or comprehend the urge to take care of her.
He hit pay dirt the second drawer he opened, but shut it after only a moment’s perusal.
Noble intentions be damned if he put her in one of those sexy nightgowns.
Instead, he scrounged up a T-shirt. The sight of her nearly nude had him questioning his sanity, but he finally got her stripped, into the shirt, and tucked into her bed. Alone.
You shouldn’t be so trusting, he told her silently, bending to brush a kiss across her lips. Not of him. Devlin still couldn’t believe he was walking away from her.
“Nice,” she mumbled, and burrowed deeper into the covers. She opened her eyes and stared straight at him. “You’re a nice man.” Her eyes drifted shut and her breathing deepened, became regular. Dreamland.
Devlin had been called a lot of things by a lot of women, but he couldn’t remember nice ever being one of them.