A Question of Love (12 page)

“You tormented me the whole evening, Gabe.” She moved her hand, positioning the butterfly on the base of his cock.

The light flutter drove him nuts. Drove his nuts nuts. Fuck, it wasn’t enough. He wanted her hand wrapped around his dick. Her mouth… Her pussy…

“Who do you think my open lust and naked desire was directed towards?” Stillness once again. “Connor? Maddie? Or maybe it was the waiter?”

She pulled away then, and Gabe was left colder than before without the heat of her body to warm him.

Oh, Christ, was it possible he’d read the whole situation wrong? Could that look have been for him and not Connor? That dazed gaze of naked lust and adoration? For him?

Jesus fuck, maybe it could have.

Maybe, just maybe, she did love him after all. Just him. Not Connor.

“T…” He turned around, grappling with the thought. God knew he wanted it to be true. He wanted her to love him. Just him. No one else.

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at him. Her gaze was ice cold.

What the…?

“T,” he said again, but she cut him off.

“You treated me like a stranger in that bathroom.”

He froze, the accuracy of the accusation blasting through him. He’d tried so hard not to think about it, not to remember his terrible behavior, but of course he’d failed outright.

“You’re right.” He nodded. “I acted like a jerk, and I apologize. I was jealous,” he added hoarsely. “So fucking jealous it hurt.”

“And pushing me away helped ease that pain?” Her eyes flashed.

“Nothing eased that pain.” He pressed his fist against his eyes. Christ, just thinking of the night made him see red. “I had to show you that Connor meant nothing to you. That it’s me you love. Just me.”

“By bringing me to orgasm in a public bathroom? Without throwing me even a crumb of affection in the process? That was the best way you could show me?”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“You turned away from me. You shoved your fingers in my pussy, yet refused to kiss me.” Her neck flushed red. “You rejected me while you fucked me. And then you left!”

“I read your response all wrong. I thought you…wanted Connor. Christ, I hated how wet you were. How excited you’d been to see him. I had to prove I was the only one who could make you come.” He grimaced.

“It had nothing to do with Connor, Gabe. I was wet for you.”

“I didn’t know that.” He fell to his knees in front of her. “The last time we discussed Connor you told me you couldn’t separate us out. You said you loved us as two halves of a whole.” He dropped his forehead on her knees. “The first time we made love, this time round, it happened after you’d seen your sketch of me and Connor. It killed me. Knowing you wanted me only because you’d seen him. But I couldn’t say no. I wanted you too damn much.”

“Oh, Gabe.” She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair, sending tingles racing across his scalp.

For sure she was the only woman who could make him tingle.

“It had nothing to do with Connor,” she said. “It was all you. You’d spent the whole day and night seducing me. You introduced me to Valerie, you made me laugh, you wined and dined me. And you told me in no uncertain terms that you wanted to fuck me. I was oblivious to the sketch of Connor. It was the sketch of you, G. I saw it and I wanted you, more than I’d ever wanted you before.” She laughed. “Which is almost impossible seeing as how badly I wanted you before.”

“How badly you wanted Connor and me before,” he corrected.

She tugged on his hair, pulling his head up until he looked at her.

“See, G, that’s where I was wrong. All along. It was never about Connor. I never loved him. But when I met you… Everything changed. I fell head over heels. I convinced myself I loved both of you because I was with both of you. But when you weren’t there anymore there was nothing left between Connor and me. There couldn’t be. I loved you, not him.” She shook her head. “It’s just taken me four years to admit that to myself.”

“What are you saying, T?” He needed her to spell it out. To tell him in one syllable words he’d be sure to understand. To comprehend. To believe.

“That I love you, G. Just you. Not your friend. You.”

The last ounce of doubt melted away. “You do, don’t you.”

“God, yes!”

“Even after I walked away from you on Friday night?”

Her eyes darkened. “I hated that. But yes, I still love you.”

He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I love you too.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What about Maddie?”

Huh?
“What about her?”

“Do you love her too?”

He frowned. “No. I never did. I told you that weeks ago.”

She blushed. “I just had to make sure.” Then she shot him a look of pure mischief. “Well then, how about Maggie?”

He snorted. “I don’t love her either.”

“Good.”

He smiled then, a smile borne of relief and of love. Four years it had taken to reach this point. Four very long, very lonely years. “It’s just you, T. I only love you.”

She smiled right back and made a show of tossing the butterfly vibe over his shoulder. “Then prove it. Make love to me. No toys, no aids, just you. Show me you are the only man I’ll ever need in my life.”

Gabe loved using toys with Tina. Dug it. He loved how responsive she was to the added stimulation, how keen she was to play and explore. But for the last eight weeks the compulsive need he’d felt to use the toys went beyond Tina’s enjoyment. He’d used them to make up for Connor’s absence. He’d used them to prove she didn’t need another man in his bed. He was man enough for her.

And now he could prove it to her—without the toys. He was all the man she would ever need again.

“With pleasure,” he growled, and had her naked and flat on her back in less than a minute. And when he pressed his lips to hers, he knew for sure she was his. Tina surrendered to him, offering the most delicious kiss he’d ever tasted. So delicious he refused to release her mouth. While her tongue played with his, he found her breasts with his hand and caressed them until she moaned against his lips. He kissed her as his finger found the slick folds of her pussy and the plump bead of her clit and teased her until she broke on his hand.

He swallowed her cries as he stroked the sensitive bud between her butt cheeks, making her come again, and he kissed her as she pumped his rock hard dick with her bewitching fingers.

He pulled away long enough to lose his undies and don a condom, and then he was back, taking her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips and settling between her legs to claim her.

Inch by glorious inch he pressed into her, relishing the satiny smoothness of her tight channel, the creamy moisture that eased his way until he was encased in the velvety heat of her body.

Still he kissed her, tasted her, consumed her. They moved together as one, her hips rising to meet his thrusts, rhythmically, sensuously, his lips gliding over hers, melding to hers.

It didn’t matter how many times before Gabe had made love to Tina. This, now, was different. This time she made love to him too. It wasn’t about sex, or fucking, or breaking records for the number of orgasms induced. This was love, and dear God, it was perfect.

Gabe didn’t try to hold back. He couldn’t. When Tina’s rocking changed, when it became frenetic and frantic, Gabe let go. He gave in to the urgency of her demands and drove into her over and over again. As her muscles began to contract around him, his balls pulled tight against the base of his dick. When she cried out as she arched her back, Gabe lost control.

They came together, she convulsing beneath him in wild abandon, he shooting his release into her once, twice, a hundred times.

God, his orgasm seemed to go on forever, a rapturous, wondrous liberation of emotion. And with every jerky ejaculation inside her, she spasmed again, the two of them spurring each other on, until they collapsed in a tangled heap on the sheets.

“Tina,” he gasped when he could drag air into his lungs. “Damn, T, that was…” he shook his head in awe. “That was… Just damn.”

“Nope, Gabe,” Tina answered, just as breathless, “that was love. Pure and simple.”

A smile blossomed on his face. That was exactly what this was. Love. Pure and simple.

No question about it.

About the Author

To learn more about Jess Dee, please visit her website at:
www.jessdee.com
or her blog at:
http://jessdee.wordpress.com
. Or send an email to
[email protected]
.

When love is threatened by truth, every moment counts…

Steve’s Story

© 2009 Jess Dee

Circle of Friends, Book 2

Steve Sommers is having a gut-wrenching week. His fiancée has left him, the woman who broke his heart is back in town—and they’re all gathered at the bedside of his best friend, who’s in a coma. The emotional ties between them are strained to the breaking point. Like it or not, it’s up to Steve to find the strength and compassion to support the four of them through the toughest ordeal of their lives.

In the midst of the turmoil and trauma, passion unexpectedly flares anew between Steve and the woman he loves. Suddenly the future he’d believed lost lies within his reach. But she still carries the secret that once tore them apart, and determined to protect Steve from the truth, she fights their rekindled relationship every step of the way.

Now the fragile bond they’ve developed hangs in the balance, threatened by a reality that love may not be strong enough to overcome…

Warning: This book might just make you cry, but it’ll make you smile as well. The story will probably get you all hot and bothered too. It contains naughty activities in the car, sex on the kitchen counter (and up against the wall), a quickie in the garden, a little experimenting with scarves—oh, and some hot loving in the bedroom.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Steve’s Story:

With the door securely locked behind her, she collapsed against the wall, panting.

Oh God. Her heart hammered against her chest and her hands shook, her body desperately craving a fix.

Steve infuriated her. He drove her nuts. He was the most stubborn, obnoxious, presumptuous man ever, and yet she still hungered for his body and his touch. Like an addict. She clenched her fists and howled in frustration—then nearly jumped out of her skin as the securely locked door opened beside her.

She stared in horror as Steve stepped inside. “How…?”

“Key,” he offered helpfully and held it up to show her. “The receptionist gave me an extra one when you checked in. You didn’t notice?”

“What…?” Shit, what was he doing here?

“Weren’t you listening?” He set the key on the table and stepped closer, trapping her against the wall. “I told you in the car. When we get back to your apartment, I’m going to kiss you.”

“You can’t.” Could he?

“Oh, but I can.” He pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head and dipped his face towards hers. “And I will.”

And he did. His lips claimed hers. In seconds, he was devouring her. Enticing her. Exciting her.

Penelope reacted on instinct, in the same way any fuming woman in her situation would. She lifted her rage-filled arms and threw them around his neck, kissing him right back. Ravenously. It didn’t matter how hard she’d rallied against him in the car or how much she’d refused to take his verbal seduction seriously. The instant he touched her, any idea of resistance melted away.

When he did as he’d promised and ripped off her shirt, Pen didn’t flinch. On the contrary, she yanked off her bra and pushed his head down to her aching, swollen breasts. As his lips touched her burning skin she couldn’t suppress the moan that burst from her throat. He suckled her tight nipples, his predatory mouth lighting fires all over her body.

The five o’clock shadow on his chin grazed her sensitive flesh, the light burn triggering a sweet, urgent ache. “Steve,” she gasped, “please…”

He raised his head from her breast, stared at her through midnight blue eyes. Eyes darkened by desire. “Please what?”

“Please.” She couldn’t talk. Couldn’t think.

“Tell me, Pen.” He nibbled her lower lip. “Are you wearing panties?” His hands covered her breasts, kneading them.

“Oh.” Her head fell back.

“Are you?” Fingers pinched lightly at the taut nipples, the erotic pain shooting through her in tiny bullets of pleasure.

“Yes,” she managed to whisper.

He sucked gently on her lip, running his tongue along the inside. “Do you want to be wearing panties?”

“No.” That wasn’t a whisper. It was a heartfelt plea. She didn’t want to be wearing anything. She wanted to be naked. With Steve.

She’d barely drawn breath when she found herself in his arms as he carried her to the bed. Her mouth was on his neck, feeding on the salty skin of his jaw line. Her hands were in his hair and her breasts were pressed against the steely muscle of his chest.

Pen was a fool and she knew it. She was weak and in need of a hit and could not resist what Steve offered. While in theory she’d told herself repeatedly she would not make love to him again, in practice it was a whole other story. A whole other story of sleek, rugged sinew, of hard male muscle and of sensual, sexy man.

He set her down on the mattress and tugged his T-shirt off. As his washboard abs came into view, Pen wanted more. She wanted to see all of him. When, still standing, he leaned over to kiss her, her hands went to his waist and fought with the buttons on his jeans. The task was tough—his tongue did crazy things to her, scattering her concentration, but the end result was worth it. She freed his erection from the tight confines of his pants and held it in her hands as he groaned.

The taste of his salty skin lingered and she wanted more. With Steve she always wanted more. She pushed his jeans over his hips then pulled away to watch him shrug them off. She could not wait to dip her head down and wrap her lips around the tip of his penis.

When she did, Steve muttered something unintelligible. She went to work making love to him, sucking and kissing and licking in ways she knew would drive him to distraction. His musky scent filled her nose and his masculine taste exploded on her tongue. His cock swelled and thickened as she caressed. The skin of his toned butt filled one hand, while round, soft testicles nestled in the other.

For someone who knew the smallest morsel of Steve would only serve to fan the flames of her addiction, she was being given a sensory overload—and she only wanted more.

“I thought,” Steve rasped, “you were
not
going to kiss me.”

“I wasn’t.” Her answer was muffled.

“Well.” Steve shuddered and pulled away from her. “I’m glad we’ve got that sorted out.”

He drew her up until they stood face to face. “You said I couldn’t tie you up either.”

“You can’t, and it’s not negotiable.”

Steve blinked. Once. “But kissing is?”

“Kissing is.”

He took her mouth with his. Negotiations on this topic weren’t necessary. While his lips beguiled, his hands undressed. Her jeans landed in a pile on top of his.

“You are wearing panties,” he acknowledged as he slipped a finger beneath the silky material.

“I won’t be if you take them off.” His finger felt shockingly cool in the heat of her slick folds. She shivered as he ran it over her lips once before dipping it inside. Deep, deep inside. The pleasure was so sharp her inner walls clamped around him.

He dropped to his knees and pushed her until she sat on the edge of the bed. Still he did not remove her panties. Instead he withdrew his finger and lowered his head to her lap. Through the silk and lace he kissed her, running his tongue slowly over her throbbing clit. He kissed her until she was a shivering wreck on the bed. Until she was panting and sobbing.

“Fire it up, Steve,” she begged, and finally, finally her panties were discarded.

He moved away for a second, grabbed his wallet and put it down again, and then he was back, fired up and ready to go.

Pen scooted up the bed, making space for him between her legs, and Steve settled there, right where he belonged, with the tip of his erection torturously close to her aching center. Her body trembled with longing, her hunger so insatiable she had to swallow down a cry.

“You told me you weren’t going to kiss me,” Steve said again as he lowered his face to hers and kissed her chastely.

“We’ve been through this already,” she answered and deepened the kiss. As her tongue invaded his mouth, he nudged his erection stingily between her lower lips. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him in further.

Sweet heaven, if he didn’t take her now, she would not be held accountable for her actions.

“Steve,” she moaned. “Please.”

“Please what?” Beads of sweat formed on his brow.

“Please.” She ground her hips against him, trying to increase the depth of penetration. “Make love to me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, as though in pain, and then opened them again. “You told me you weren’t going to marry me either.”

Oh, please. Not that again. Not now. “I’m not.” Again she ground her hips into his. The ache between her legs grew worse, the longing brutal. “I’m going to use you for sex.”