Taking the Heat (12 page)

“I was hiding from the feds and I started sleeping with a US marshal. So please don't pretend you're more screwed up than I am. I clearly win at that game.”

“She's got a point,” Lauren said. “You're obviously smarter than Isabelle ever was.”

“Hey!” Isabelle smacked Lauren's shoulder, but Lauren only laughed.

Veronica grabbed a napkin and carefully dabbed at her face. “I can't believe you guys are actually making me feel better.”

Lauren snorted. “Look, you went after your dreams. It didn't work out. You're only twenty-seven. You'll find new dreams. But when you're answering that woman, I guess you need to consider how you'd feel about yourself if you'd never tried.”

How would she feel if she'd never tried? She'd spent so many years beating herself up for her decisions that she'd never wondered about that. What if she'd stayed in Wyoming? What if she'd gotten a job in Jackson or Cheyenne and settled in? The idea squeezed her chest until she couldn't breathe.

She grabbed her drink and took a sip. Then another. She nodded. “You're right. If I hadn't gone, the dream would have stayed. It would've gotten bigger.”

“Right.” Lauren patted her arm. “And instead of wasting four years in New York, you would've wasted your entire life imagining it. You're fine, Veronica. You're starting over. Welcome to your new life.”

Her new life. Wow.

Okay. She could deal with that. New York and everything that had come before it...that was her past. Wasn't that what she would tell anyone who wrote to her?
You made mistakes. Learn from it and move on.

Move on. That was a little too general to be number three on her list, but it was still good advice.

“You're right,” she said. “Thank you. To my new life.” She raised her drink and took a hearty gulp.

“No fair,” Lauren complained. “We're all out and Isabelle scared the waiter away.”

“Let's order dessert,” Veronica said, sniffing back the last of her tears. “And another round. It's my birthday.”

“Hell, yeah, it is,” Isabelle said.

Veronica had just decided on a fancy version of strawberry shortcake that included liquor in the recipe when her phone beeped. She dug it from her purse and made a little wish before she looked. It paid off.

Happy birthday, Dear Veronica.

It was from Gabe. Her cheeks might have been sore from laughing but that didn't stop her from grinning with delight. She glanced up to see her friends still studying the dessert menu.

Thank you
, she wrote.
Hope you had a great day.

The phone buzzed immediately back.
Can I call you?

Her heart picked up speed.
I'm still out.

Of course. Maybe later?

Yes
, she wrote back, making sure not to add fifteen exclamation points. There was no reason for him to know that she was tempted to walk out on dessert for him.

She looked up to find her friends staring. “Sorry,” she said, tucking her phone away.

“Sorry?” Lauren repeated. “Sorry you haven't told us who you're flirting with?”

“I'm not flirting with anyone!” she protested. Her lie didn't work, apparently, because they both laughed at her. “What?” she demanded. “I was only returning a text.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Judging by how ridiculously excited you were to hear from him, we'll be getting some details soon. We can wait.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lauren countered. “I can't wait.” But she didn't press the issue. Instead they ordered desserts and one more round of drinks and Veronica tried not to imagine what might happen later. But she had a feeling this was going to be a birthday to remember. No...not just a feeling. This was her new life and she was going to make damn sure this birthday went the way she wanted.

She had her number three now.

Try new things.

She couldn't wait to get home and put it on her fridge.

CHAPTER TEN

“B
UT
 
IT
'
S
 
MY
 
BIRTHDAY
,”
she murmured, her voice a purr in Gabe's ear.

He nearly groaned. He had a plan. He was determined to go slow. He'd been fantasizing about it since the night she'd told him her secret. And now...now that he'd actually touched her, now that he'd actually felt how wet she got for him... Shit. He was determined to make it perfect.

“Please?” she whispered.

Gabe stroked his cock through his shorts and winced at the ache. “It's late,” he said.

“I know. That's why you should come over now. Don't you want to?”

He did groan this time. “I'm hard as a rock, damn it.”

“Oh. Are you really?” The seductive purr had left her voice. She sounded a little breathless, a little doubtful, and hell, if that didn't make him want to show her just how hard he was.

“Yes,” he finally said. “And you? Are you turned on?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes. I like thinking of you that way.”

Oh, God, she was going to kill him. He gripped his cock through the fabric and squeezed it hard. “Have you touched yourself?” he asked, torturing himself further.

“No. I was hoping you'd do that for me.”

Gabe blew out a long sigh. It was after eleven. He had to work tomorrow. His muscles ached from the climb today. And this wasn't part of his plan. He knew how to wait for something he wanted.

“Please?” she whispered again.

Fuck his plan. “I'll be right there,” he said.

She was laughing as he hung up the phone, but he was in too much pain to laugh. If she wanted to be touched, he'd touch her. Hadn't the girl waited long enough? And it was her birthday, after all.

He grabbed shoes, a jacket and his keys and stalked out. She didn't want champagne and candles, but if this was part of her fantasy, he wanted to give it to her.

Gabe knew he had trouble with wanting to be an ideal. An ideal son. An ideal colleague. An ideal boyfriend. He wanted to be the kid his dad could count on. He liked being the male librarian who wasn't shitty and chauvinistic. He'd always loved being told he was a great lover. The problem with being ideal was that it got tiring. Sometimes he wanted to be selfish. But right now his desire to make it good for Veronica lined up perfectly with what he wanted. To get her naked, to touch her, to make her come.

Fuck, he couldn't wait to get his hands on her. Or...he could. He just didn't want to.

By the time he knocked on Veronica's door, he was calmer, at least. And when he saw her smile, he was damn glad he'd come over.

She looked different tonight. More confident. Her eyes sparkled and her chin was tipped up to meet his gaze.

She opened the door wider to let him in. “Did you bring me a present?”

Gabe laughed at her audaciousness. “Wait a minute. Are you drunk?” he asked.

She giggled as she shut the door. “Just enough to be honest.”

“Yes, I seem to remember how honest you get when you drink. But if you're drunk...”

“I'm not! I promise.”

“Come here,” he said, reaching for her. When he leaned down to kiss her, she met his mouth with a happy eagerness that twisted his heart. She was so...bright. So sweet. Nothing like what he'd first thought of her. He bit her bottom lip, then licked at the spot he'd bitten.

“I'm not going to fuck you when you're drunk,” he murmured.

She groaned, but before she could protest, he kissed her again. He wasn't going to fuck her. He was going to make her come.

Her hands rose to grip his head, to pull him down for a deeper kiss, as if she meant to change his mind. He loved the way her tongue rubbed at his, the way her fingers gripped his hair. He was instantly hard again, instantly aching.

He eased her toward the couch. He wanted to touch her, explore her body, and the couch seemed a little more comfortable than leaning against the door. Or sitting on a boulder. He sat down and tugged her after him.

She wore a cute little red dress that rose up her thighs when she put her knees on the couch and straddled him.

“Tell me what you did today,” he said, dragging his thumbs up her inner thighs.

Her head dropped and she watched his hands. “I worked. Then I went out to dinner with my girlfriends.”

“Lauren?” he asked, drawing little circles on her skin.

“Yes.” Her breath hitched when he dragged his hands up and pushed her skirt to her hips. Her panties were black. “Lauren. And Isabelle.”

“Did you get lots of presents?”

She raised her hand to her chest. “This necklace,” she said, “and now you.”

“Very pretty,” he said, but his gaze dropped quickly back to her thighs. Her legs flexed when she shifted. He smoothed his hands over the strong muscles.

“How was your—” her breath caught when his rising hands brushed the front of her panties “—climb?”

“I'm sore, but it was great.”

“Your arms?”

“Yeah. Arms. Shoulders.”

“Take off your shirt,” she said.

He wasn't going to say no to that. Gabe shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt.

“Mmm,” she murmured, her hands going to his shoulders. She stroked him gently, her fingers trailing from his neck down to his biceps and then back up. Every nerve in his body tingled to life at the soft touch.

Then she gripped his shoulders more firmly and dug her thumbs into the muscles near his neck. “Here?” she asked.

Gabe closed his eyes at the shock of wonderful pain. “God, yes.” She rubbed slow circles into his sore spots. He relaxed into it, letting his lips part to take in a deep breath. Her thumbs slid higher and pressed deep again. Gabe sighed.

“Is this what you look like when you fuck, Gabe?” she whispered.

His eyes popped open.

She was watching his mouth. She licked her lips. “I like talking to you after I've had a few drinks. I get to say the things I'm really thinking.”

“You can say what you're thinking anytime you want. Are you always this dirty?”

She smiled as if he'd complimented her. “No. Yes. I mean... I have these thoughts. I know all these things, Gabe. I've read so much about sex. I get turned on thinking about it. I look at beautiful men and I imagine filthy things. But it's always a little removed. Wondering what they'd be like in bed. Wondering if I'd actually like it with them. It's like...”

She frowned and shifted her hands again to find another place. Gabe shivered with pleasure as he waited for her to continue.

“It's like I want to feel dirty, but I can't. It's intellectual. Something I've read about. But with you, it's...real.” That last word seemed to make her feel self-conscious. She winced a little and added, “Maybe.”

“Veronica—”

“No. You don't need to say anything. I just want to touch you for a little while.” One of her hands slid up his neck to dig into the muscles there. The other slipped over his shoulder and down his chest.

His brain couldn't quite process the two different kinds of pleasure. One deep and bordering on pain, and the other just the sweep of her fingers over his skin. Combined with the strange seduction of her words, Gabe's cock was heavy and hard.

He opened his eyes. “Don't you think you should take your shirt off, too?”

“I'm wearing a dress,” she breathed.

“Let me help with that.” He slid his hands around her waist and up her back to find the zipper. The sound of it was loud as he pulled it down, an unmistakable prelude.

She didn't stop touching him until he tugged down the modest neckline and eased the dress off her arms. The red fabric pooled around her waist. Her breasts were still covered by the black material of her bra.

Gabe reached for the front clasp of the bra slowly, giving her a chance to stop him. But she only watched his hands as if he were performing a trick. With a twist of his fingers, the bra fell away, and her breasts were naked.

He'd seen her in the dark. Felt her. Tasted her. But here in the lamplight of her apartment, she looked impossibly pretty. Her skin was so pale against the black fabric. Her nipples were pink and small. Her breasts would barely fill his palm.

A tinge of red crept down her chest and she raised her hands to cover her breasts.

“Don't,” he said.

“I'm not very...” Her words died away when he swept her hand aside and replaced it with his own. He teased her nipple with his thumb until the skin around it went even tighter. Then he ducked his head and sucked her into his mouth.

She was small. He couldn't tell her that wasn't true. But it was her and she was perfect. And he loved the way her hips bucked against him when he scraped his teeth over her nipple.

He moved to the other breast and tugged her hips closer, groaning against her skin when she pressed into his cock.

“I...” she gasped. “I want you to fuck me, Gabe. For my birthday.”

Her words wound around his cock like a torturous stroke of a hand. God, yes. Yes, he was going to fuck her. But...

He let her nipple slide from his mouth. “I'm not going to fuck you for your birthday.” He felt the way she stiffened in his arms, as if she were getting ready to protect herself. Gabe circled her wet nipple with his tongue. “I'm going to make you come for your birthday.”

She made a soft noise, a quiet growl of need and frustration. “No. That's not...that's not easy for me. I just want to do it. Really do it. I don't want to worry.”

“Worry about what?” he asked, easing her off his lap. Once she was sitting on the couch, he slid her dress lower on her hips.

“About trying to come,” she whispered, suddenly shy after all the wicked things she'd said.

“You don't have to try, Veronica. Just relax.”

“I can't,” she said, but she lifted her hips and let him ease her dress off. Now all she wore were her little black panties. Gabe knelt on the floor between her legs. She shook her head when he pushed the coffee table aside.

“This is one of my favorite things to do in the world,” he said. “You're not gonna let me have my fun?”

“What is?” she asked, watching him warily, her hands poised as if she didn't know whether to pull him closer or push him away.

He pressed a kiss to her thigh, then her hip, then on the front of the black fabric that covered her sex. “This,” he whispered. Then he closed his mouth over her pussy.

Even through the fabric he could taste her. He pressed his tongue hard against her and was rewarded with her shocked gasp. He smiled against her, nudged her with his nose. “Just let me. For a little while.”

He looked up and saw her nod. One tiny dip of her chin, but that was all it took. He tugged her panties down, slid them off her legs. He felt her knees squeeze in as if she wanted to hide herself, so instead of dipping his head again, he covered her dark blond curls with his hand. She was beautiful. So wet for him already. He stroked his thumb along the top of her pussy and watched the muscles of her thighs jump.

“You don't have to try at anything, Veronica. Just let me touch you. Even if you don't come, I still want to taste you. I want you on my tongue. I want to hear the sounds you make when I lick you. That's all.”

It was a lie, but it was one she needed to hear. He meant to make her come if he had to eat her pussy for an hour. And he was good at it. He'd been one of only three men in his entire master's program who'd been straight and single, so he'd been used for a lot of late-night stress relief. More important, he'd heard hundreds of discussions about sex from the woman's side of things. And he'd always been good at paying attention.

Back then it had been a more selfish act. A twentysomething guy with a great reputation for going down? He'd loved it. Now he loved it for a different reason. He loved it because there was nothing hotter than making a woman come.

Veronica's thighs relaxed as he stroked her clit. Her eyes relaxed, too. She was watching him past heavy lids now, her lips parted as her breath came faster. He stroked a hand down her thighs, urging her to open more. She did, just a fraction of an inch at first.

He bent down to kiss the inside of her knee, then higher up, then the very top of her thigh, and the whole time he stroked her clit with slow, soft movements. He dragged his tongue up the tight tendon of her thigh that led right to her pussy.

She tensed again, but he wasn't going to do what she anticipated. Instead of licking the pink, wet center of her, he licked her plump outer lip, tasting how aroused she was for him already. She was so turned on he couldn't imagine what a poor job some asshole had done at this the first time. She was nervous, yes, but she was glistening with arousal.

Still stroking lightly at her clit, he sucked her lip and gently worked his tongue against her. Then he did the same to the other side. Her thighs widened without any urging from him now. Her pussy spread open. She was deep pink and so gorgeous. Gabe swept his tongue inside her.

Her sound of shock was muffled, as if she'd kept her mouth shut tight against it. The taste of her pussy flooded his tongue as he dragged it higher. He removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth, and he sucked at her clit. The sound she made wasn't muffled anymore. It was a loud cry. When he flicked his tongue against her, she exhaled on a hiss. He watched her hands clutch at the edge of the couch cushions. And then he settled into it.

She wasn't loud. The noises she made were soft and subdued, as if she didn't want to disturb him. He started out with soft flicks of his tongue, teasing her a little, finding out what she liked. He eased his hands beneath her ass and held her to his mouth like a treat. He liked controlling her this way, holding her steady, feeling the way her muscles flexed and tensed at the pleasure.