That feeling was more than confirmed when she drop a long, lingering look at his right hand and sighed.
Sighed
, like a sound of longing and unsatisfied
desire.
“Yeah, I bet that’ll suck, not being able to do…push-ups…for a few weeks. That’s how long casts are on, right?”
“Usually.” His damn voice caught in his throat, rough and scratchy, and suddenly his hallway was too small and lacking a soft surface for them to stretch out on. Get naked on.
Naked wasn’t an option.
Bruises, dude. Ugly, scary, lady-boner-killing bruises.
He wouldn’t have
thought Gaby was a lady-boner type of woman, not until that throaty laugh and her slow, deliberate tease about his masturbation problems.
Now he wasn’t sure he had any clue what kind of woman Gaby was.
But he wanted to know. He wanted to know every single layer of her interesting self.
She spared him the embarrassment of continually forgetting to be a good host and turned, picking up her grocery
bags. “Kitchen that way?” she asked as she headed into his living space.
She unpacked the drinks, leaving two beers on the counter and putting the rest in the fridge.
Then she held up a box of Band-Aids. “As promised…”
He laughed, which hurt, but damn, it felt good, too. “I totally wanted you to play nurse, too.”
A secret smile curled up the corners of her mouth. “You said something about
that.” She opened the first bottle and held it out to him. “Here. Your medicine.”
“I was hoping for a kiss.” The truth ripped from his lips. “You know. Boo-boos and all that.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but the smile stayed in place. “Any particular place?”
Damn damn damn. His cock thumped against the zipper in his jeans, claiming mortal injury, but he knew better. “My lips are awfully sore.”
She opened her own beer and stepped closer, staying on his left side this time but not holding back. Good.
But she stopped again, like she’d forgotten something for a minute but her memories had thundered back into place. Trick was no relationship rocket scientist, but he’d felt these walls come up before. He knew what she was thinking about now—the last woman he’d kissed. He could honestly say
he didn’t really remember kissing her roommate. He remembered some things about their brief night together, but none of those fuzzy memories held a candle to holding Gaby close.
He wasn’t giving that up. He’d dial it back and keep it light, but she’d gotten under his skin, and eventually he’d find a way to show her she was the only woman on his mind or anywhere near his lips.
“Maybe we should
go sit,” she said quietly.
“Really?” He said it warm and soft, but he said it. A little challenge because he couldn’t help himself.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
He cleared his throat and put on his best approximation of a smirk. “Unless you don’t like kissing.”
She gave him an
oh-please
face. “Of course I like kissing. But…”
He let her trail off and gave her a minute to finish the thought.
She didn’t, and that made his growing need for her even stronger.
“I want to kiss you. Right now, actually,” he said roughly. “And I’m pretty sure you want to kiss me, too.”
She didn’t say anything. A million thoughts were racing through her head—he could see them in her dilated pupils, the pulsing worry he was going to hurt her.
But they needed to kiss. He felt it in his bones, that if they
could just get past this awkwardness about how they met, it would all be okay.
He took their beer bottles and set them on the counter, then lowered his head, so slowly it pained him, but she needed to have time. To process this, to say no. And even that wasn’t good enough. He needed her to say yes, so he froze as his lips brushed hers.
“Can I taste you, Gaby?” She parted her lips against his,
and that puff of hot hair made him want to stumble into the living room, fall onto the couch, and pull her down on top of him. Instead, he rubbed a knuckle along her jaw before sliding his fingers into her hair. “Please, pretty please.” He smiled, but it didn’t stick. He wanted this too much. He let his voice get even rougher. Nothing wrong with showing her how much he wanted her. “Tell me yes.
Tell me you want this.”
— —
It’s just a kiss
. Lips were almost
for
sharing, public space where people tested out chemistry. No big risk. And her head was swimming with how he felt, and smelled, and tasted, right there, almost kissing her. Their chemistry practically demanded to be tested.
“I think I was supposed to be the one kissing you,” she said, and as she moved her lips, she did
just that. When she’d look back in hindsight, she might be able to say it was an accident, but maybe that was what needed to happen to push her off the ledge.
And then he was kissing her back. Softly at first, just a firm press of his lips against hers, which was tingle-inducing enough. His lips felt strong and capable of a million fantasy-satisfying things.
When the tip of his tongue traced
the swell of her lower lip, that felt even better so she opened for him. He didn’t dive in. No. He took his time, and if he wasn’t injured, she’d have climbed him like a tree to have more of him inside her. His breath, his tongue, his taste.
No kiss had ever been this
drugging
. Sensations zinged through her body, from her puffy, hyper-aware lips to the tips of her toes and everywhere in between,
like his mouth was coaxing her into an altered state.
He eased back, his tongue slicking against hers one last time before he put a few inches of space between their faces with a groan. “I could do that all night, but we should…”
“No. I mean, yes, let’s do that all night,” she said, her breath sliding out of her hard and fast. She could still feel that last swipe, could still taste him, and
a warm, heavy ache had settled into her muscles.
Yep, Trick was definitely a drug.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Gaby. How about we move to the couch?” He nodded his head toward the living room.
He hooked his fingers through hers and she followed, snagging their bottles with her other hand. It was possible she’d follow him anywhere. That kiss had knocked down all her defenses, leaving
her malleable and soft, warm and wanting more.
“This is a nice place.” Her compliment came out automatically, something one should say on a first visit, but it was nice—bigger than she expected, clean and bright.
“I share it with a roommate, but he’s away right now.” Trick pointed to the west-facing glass doors that led to a decent-sized balcony. “Not a bad place to watch the sunset.”
“I’ll
have to come over earlier next time.” Dusk was rapidly setting in outside.
He grinned as he settled in the corner of the couch, his right arm carefully resting on the padded arm, his left arm stretching along the back. “Next time? I like the sound of that. Come here and tell me more about how you might come back.”
She joined him on the couch. He was sitting on an angle, leaving just a narrow
space between him and the back of the couch. It looked just her size. But if she plastered herself against him, they’d kiss again, and if they did that—while practically lying down—they wouldn’t do anything else.
Like talk.
So instead of crawling right up against him, she sat on the middle cushion, curling her legs beneath her. Her hands rested casually on her knees, close enough to his knees
that his jeans rubbed against the backs of her fingers as he shifted in place.
The lightest scratch of denim on her hand, and her nipples tightened up.
She was such a goner.
— —
Trick watched as Gaby took a deep breath. “Why are you surprised that I say next time?”
“Hey, I didn’t say I was surprised. I’m pleased that you’d be willing to put up with my company again.” He let himself
look at her mouth for a minute. Kissing her had been amazing. Stopping had been a challenge. He thought he’d given her a clear invitation to cuddle and kiss more, but she was sitting just out of tugging range.
God, he wanted to tug her—right into his lap. Onto his cock, if he was being honest, but he wasn’t sure she’d appreciate that kind of callousness.
“Can I be honest with you, Trick?” Her
voice dragged his attention out of the gutter and back to where it belonged. She was looking at him warmly, but her voice carried a touch of worry.
He nodded. There was a lot that remained unspoken between them, and it wouldn’t do them any good to run scared of a bit of talking. “Of course.”
“I’m the one who’s surprised.” She shrugged with a little smile. It looked self-deprecating, and he
didn’t like that. “I mean, I get that you’re interested—and believe me, I like that. A lot. But I don’t really get why.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said immediately. Easily. It was true. “You’re pretty and stubborn and you’ve got this beautiful fire in your eyes.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning her head against the back of the couch. He liked that she didn’t deny his thoughts
on her value. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “The thing is…you’re not like anyone I’ve dated before. And I think I’m not like anyone you’ve dated, but maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. This just feels…”
She wasn’t wrong, but not for the reasons he suspected were on her mind. “Can I stop you there and say something that might bite me in the ass?”
She laughed. “Sure.”
“This does
feel different. Because it is, at least for me. It’s not that you’re unlike other women that I’ve dated…it’s that I don’t really date.”
The laughter fell off her face. “Oh.”
“I mean, I want to date
you
. That’s different and new for me. But I do…I don’t know what kind of boyfriend I might be—probably shitty, because I’m away a lot—but if you’re willing to come back and see the sunset, and then
maybe go out for brunch or something like that. Maybe we’ll find that a few dates turn into dating. And I think I’d like that—with you—a lot.”
“Wow.” She smiled. “Okay, that was good.”
She narrowed her eyes in thought and pulled the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, her hair falling over the side of her face as she tilted her head to the side. An interesting current of energy was radiating
off her—like she was bursting with a million questions, but didn’t know which she could ask. Hell, he’d told her most of them were off-limits. No wonder she was confused and holding back.
“Maybe we should play twenty questions.” Shit, that’s not what he meant. She laughed as he felt himself flushing with unexpected embarrassment. The idea of being stupid in Gaby’s eyes bugged him more than he
expected. “No, not the
guess the dead president with yes/no questions
kind of game. Just…”
“Learn more about each other?” Her eyes lit up at the suggestion and his feeling of being off-balance faded. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah.” They shared a smile, and when she leaned in, he met her halfway, kissing her softly. “Start with an easy one. What do you like on your pizza?”
“Practical, too.” She laughed.
“Mushrooms. Pepperoni. No green peppers. Could go either way on olives or onions.”
“Love onions. Meh on olives. Can we toss spicy sausage and tomatoes on there, too?”
Once they agreed on their order, he called it in, then he circled her wrist with his fingers. “I want you closer, is that okay?”
She nodded, and he finally tugged her into the crook of his arm. They had a lot of questions to get
through before their dinner arrived. “Favorite movie?”
— SEVEN —
Gaby walked the five blocks to Orange Ave, hoping the fresh air would calm her nerves. This was her third date with Trick and the first that might end up being an entire day.
If he wanted to spend the entire day with her—which she was pretty sure he did.
After their pizza and a movie on Tuesday night, she’d reluctantly said good night, promising to come back the next night. But
Trick ended up spending Wednesday night at the base for reasons he wouldn’t elaborate on—and she’d never push. Then she’d taught her third last class on Thursday, and the pre-exam questions had gone on forever afterward. So last night had been date number two.
Maybe it was because it had been a Friday night, or her expectations had been unfairly set by the magic of their first date, but something
had been missing. A wow factor, and it wasn’t one-sided—Trick could never disappoint her. But she worried that their second date had been…just nice. Which was totally unfair, because Trick had seemed tired during dinner, so
she’d
suggested they cut it short. And when he drove her home, she’d insisted on saying goodnight in his SUV.
She wasn’t ready for him to walk her up to her door or come inside.
He’d already been in her apartment once, and that niggled, despite the fact that she
knew
it shouldn’t.
But even before that, dinner had been quiet and their conversation limited. Trick talked about work in the vaguest of terms, and she’d thought to herself that it was kind of crazy he didn’t get the week off to recuperate, but something told her that was his choice.
It would take time before
they could talk more freely. And any expectations were too many in a week when he was recovering from a physical injury and she was swamped with the end of term.
Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she shook off the strange feeling from the night before.
It was a gorgeous spring day, and she was meeting a boy who liked her at her favorite place. A book store.
Bay Books had been Trick’s suggestion,
and she’d leapt at it. They’d go from there to brunch. She was wearing a dress and pretty underwear, just in case.
This was going to be a good date. She just knew it.
She found him in the military history section. He was wearing cargo pants, snug through his narrow hips and looser through the legs, and a fitted black t-shirt that stretched around his biceps and over his broad shoulders. He
was leaning forward, his cast resting on a shelf above his head as he read a hardcover book. She paused at the foot of the aisle, taking a minute to absorb how the sight of him made her heart skip a beat. A few beats, actually.