The Matchmaker's Replacement [Kindle in Motion] (Wingmen Inc. Book 2) (15 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Lex

T
he front door slammed.

Stomping commenced through the house until it suddenly stopped. The hair on the back of my neck rose slowly to attention as Gabi appeared in the corner of my eye.

The living room seemed a bit too small for both of us.

“Gabi.” I nodded in her direction, then glanced back at the TV.

“Lex.” She spat my name like it was the most evil thing to ever cross those lips of hers.

Oh hell, there would be blood.

She moved in front of the TV, hands on hips, eyes throwing ninja stars in my direction. “You bastard.”

“Gabs . . .” I scratched my head. “Can we not do this now?
Dateline
’s on.”

“Oh, you don’t want to do this?” Her voice rose an octave. “Here? Now?”

I sighed. “Someone’s granny panties got a bit twisted on the way up, hmm?”

“I don’t wear—” She clenched her fists and marched over, stopping right in front of me. Curling her lip into a snarl, she shoved my chest so hard I collided with the back of the couch. “You made me think I had to prove myself with
only
the training you gave me! You LIED!”

“Well, you’re in college, and life doesn’t give you a manual for that—”

“I’m going to strangle you!”

A smile spread across my face. “Can I take a rain check? Erotic asphyxiation isn’t really—”

“NO!” she yelled, slamming her palms against my chest. “You made me kiss you! You were basically waiting for me to fail with Steve! I was a ball of stress and nerves because of you! ‘Playbook’ ring a bell?”

I burst out laughing. “That’s what you’re pissed about? Gabs! I would train any employee that way; it was a test to see if you could take direction without the help of notes. You passed. Congrats. Now”—I gripped her by the hips and tossed her to the side—“time to watch serial killers.”

She growled.

I shrugged and kept watching.

And then a couch cushion landed against my face, smothering me to death. I pushed back but she was on top of me, her fists pounding against the cushion.

“That’s it!” I stood, grabbing the cushion, her little hands digging into it as she briefly dangled from it before crashing into the coffee table.

“My butt!” she yelled. “It’s bruised!”

“It’s not bruised!” I yelled right back. “Gabs, you fell half an inch.”

She got up, rubbing her ass while glaring daggers at me. “Sleep with one eye open, Luthor.”

“I’m disappointed.” I tossed the cushion to the side and changed the subject. “Not taking me up on my offer? Too . . . afraid?”

“Afraid!” She cackled out “Ha!” and then limped toward me. Maybe she really had bruised something. “Maybe I’m just not interested.”

“Aw, Gabs.” I reached for her body and tugged it against mine. “Everyone’s interested.”

“I would rather punch your mouth than kiss it,” she spat.

“I’ll let you do both if you don’t draw blood.”

She drew back, jaw slackening, then sputtered, “You’re sick.”

“Make me well?” I was only half joking. I thought she’d laugh.

Instead, her face froze.

“Gabs?”

“You took care of me,” she whispered, as if she was upset over the fact.

“Huh?”

“When I was sick.”

“I distinctly remember that I had selfish reasons. I was truly terrified you were turning into a zombie, and I wanted to have dibs on getting a Presidential Medal of Freedom for stopping a worldwide pandemic.”

“Right,” she mumbled, then waved into the air. “I’ll see you later, Lex.”

I frowned. “Gabs, wait.”

Her footsteps slowed, but she didn’t turn around. “For what, Lex?” she asked in a small, tight voice. “What do you want from me?”

It was the perfect question.

I had the right answer.

I just didn’t know how to get the words on my tongue from my mouth out into the universe. So I let her walk away.

Each step she took up the stairs felt like a choking sensation around my neck, as if she’d been my only source of air and I’d shut her off, shut her down.

“Shit.” I tried to get back into my show, but it was just people moving around on the screen, and the girl I wanted—the only one I wanted—was upstairs, probably confused as hell because of my hot-and-cold tendencies.

“Damn it.” I jumped to my feet and took the stairs two at a time as I went to her room. “Gabs?” I knocked twice. “Open up.”

Nothing.

“Gabs!” I let out a groan. “Please, it’s important.”

“How important?” came her voice from directly behind me.

I turned on my heel, then fell back against her closed door, my ass kissing the doorknob as I took in her dripping wet form.

“My shower wasn’t working, so I used yours and made sure to get all my girly parts all over the wall. So if you don’t own bleach . . .”

“I like girly parts,” I said as I slowly walked into her personal space, or my space, considering she was in my bedroom.

Wrong thing to say. Her shoulders sagged. “Lex, I think I speak for the entire female population when I say, yes, we know.” She tried sidestepping me.

I blocked her way, pressing my hands against the door frame that led out into the hall.

“Why?” It was quiet, a desperate prayer as she glanced up at me from beneath those dark eyelashes. I’d always been an eye person, loved the way they revealed so much about a person, and I was an idiot for not noticing who she was four years ago.

And look how history continued to repeat itself.

“I’m an idiot.” It felt good saying it out loud.

Gabs reached up and touched my forehead, then whispered, “Either the zombies got you or you’re on drugs.”

I grabbed her hand and pinned it at her side, then with my free hand flung her towel to the floor.

She didn’t flinch.

Her breasts were perfect, her waist just made for a man’s hands—my hands. But it wasn’t her body that was doing the trick, it was her eyes, the trusting, knowing eyes that drew me in slowly and then all at once. I had no choice but to fall into the essence that was Gabi.

Trembling, I reached for her face and tugged it toward me, covering her mouth with mine—sealing our fate.

I silenced her gasp, lifting her into the air as our tongues battled one another for dominance. The girl just wouldn’t quit—and I didn’t want it any other way.

The energy between us exploded as she grasped my shoulders, digging her fingertips into my muscle like she was bracing herself for battle.

With a grunt, I collided with the side of the door, nearly taking it off its hinges.

Gabi was everywhere.

Naked in my arms, squirming, her scent in my mouth, surrounding me. I couldn’t kiss her hard enough as I fought to regain control of the situation, to gain the upper hand I saw slipping away as her body rocked into mine.

Her hips drove against me.

“Damn,” I breathed against her mouth, half expecting her to head-butt me and walk off. I had no idea the violence, the hatred, between us would end up sparking a flame that exploded wherever we touched.

She slid down me slowly, and my cock strained against my jeans as the pressure of her body teased me.

Once her bare feet touched the floor, she pushed me back, giving me the idea she needed space.

Hell, she wasn’t the only one.

What the hell were we doing?

“I hate you,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

I smirked. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Good talk?” Her smile transformed her entire face. Damn it, she was perfection.

“Yeah, Gabs.” I reached for her again, grasping her wrist, waiting for her to come back into my atmosphere so I could breathe her in. “Good talk.”

Nodding, she took one step, then two in my direction. She rested her hands against my chest, sending shock waves of heat through my system, then slid them up around my neck.

We were hugging.

Embracing.

All the tension left my body in that instant.

The rightness of the entire situation left me speechless about how a simple hug was exposing every vulnerability, breaking down every defense I’d ever laid in place when it came to Gabs. She might as well grab a knife, cut me open, and peer inside.

Because my weakness had always been her, it would always be her.

And now? It felt like she knew it.

I held her tighter against me, my hands slowly dancing up and down her back while I took a deep breath; the air was saturated with her.

“Your choice,” I whispered hoarsely. “You still want this?”

Still want this. Please, God, make her still want this.

No answer.

Rejection washed over me as I frantically searched for every damn pebble from the wall she’d destroyed. I needed to rebuild, to fix the armor around myself.

I swallowed a giant lump in my throat as she stepped around me.

Leaving. Only this time, it was her leaving, not me, and I knew I deserved every moment of the rejection she was showing me as she moved past me, then tugged my body completely into the room and shut the door.

The sound of my door locking might as well have been a meteor hitting the earth.

I was afraid to turn around.

Small hands touched my sides from behind and then wrapped around my middle as Gabs planted her face against my back. “I still want this.”

I hung my head. “Thank God.”

Without giving her another chance to say no, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to the bed. “You know this changes nothing, right?”

Gabi didn’t miss a beat. She smiled—still naked, mind you—and reached up to yank my head down to hers. “You’re still a bastard.”

“And you’re still a pain in my ass.”

“Okay.”

I licked her lips.

She returned the favor.

“Okay.”

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Gabi

T
he entire situation felt unreal, as if I was hovering over my own body, watching things happen, gasping, holding my breath, rubbing my eyes, and wondering if I was in a dream.

I’d always wanted him.

There was a tug-of-war between my head and my heart.

My head would remind me of all the situations when he’d been a completely horrible human being, while my heart kept the good memories sacred.

Like when we were younger and he beat up the kids who used to make fun of me because I wore hand-me-downs.

Or the time when he taught me how to dance so I wouldn’t look stupid at my first junior high dance. Then he’d moved away from our school district, and we’d lost touch.

He and Ian had still hung out, but he had disappeared from
my
world.

Until my senior year of high school, when I came to that Christmas party on campus.

It was our game changer.

The trick play.

Be the Cinderella at the ball and the prince takes you home, right? Isn’t that how life worked? Instead, the prince kissed me, then insulted me, rejected me, and so started the war.

I think I liked making love better.

“Lex,” I panted as he invaded my mouth over and over again, as if he couldn’t get enough of the way our lips slid across one another. The raw sensation of his rough hands rubbing down my ribs had me bucking off the bed every single time.

“I love that even now, when you say my name, I’m still a little terrified you’re going to attack me.” Lex chuckled darkly against my neck.

My laugh turned into a moan. “You . . . are . . .”

His lips found my ear, and then he was doing something with his tongue while his fingertips skimmed across my pelvis. “What was that?”

“No idea.” I’d heard rumors that Lex was so good in bed he’d managed to give a girl three orgasms while studying for a poli-sci test at the same time. Something about the note cards being in the pillowcase.

The point?

The rumors.

Were true.

So . . . “Holy crap, Lex, that feels too much.”

“Not a sentence, Sunshine.” Lex hauled me up into a sitting position.

Confused, I looked around. He still had clothes on. I was naked, writhing beneath him like—

“None of those faces are allowed in the inner sanctum,” he teased, his eyes dark. “Come here.”

I didn’t move.

“Fine.” He peeled off his shirt, exposing me to so much masculine beauty that I had a hard time catching my breath. He stood, slowly
unzipping
his pants, before dropping them to the floor and kicking them away. “Vulnerability meets vulnerability, right?”

I nodded dumbly as he dipped his thumbs into his boxers and then removed them too.

My eyes stayed glued to the space in front of me, the space he occupied, as he very boldly and nakedly stood in front of me, muscles taut.

“You can say it: my stripper skills suck.”

“Right,” I croaked. “Because that’s where my mind was going.”

“Gabs . . .” He held out his hand, palm up. “We can take things slow.”

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “No.” Oh, no. I was going to do it. I was going to cry. No, no, no, no.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Lex pulled me into his lap. Now both of us were naked, and I was feeling way too many things—everywhere. Not to mention the panic that was rising in my chest that he’d walk away, that I wouldn’t be good enough, that he’d laugh at my inexperience.

This would change everything.

Now if he made a sexual comment about me, it would wreck me, because he would know the truth.

“Promise me something,” I whispered.

“Okay, Sunshine,” he said gently, pulling me further onto his lap. “What kind of promise do you need? And is this one of those blood oath things? Will there always be blood?”

I smiled. “Be serious.”

“Oh.” He nodded and started moving beneath me, the slight pressure causing me to lose my train of thought. “What’s this promise you need?”

“This stays here,” I blurted. “Whatever this is, it stays here. It’s a no-play zone, okay? When we walk out that door and still feel the need to yell and push and throw knives—”

“You have
knives
?” he repeated, incredulous.

I frowned. “Well, downstairs in the kitchen. We’re getting off topic. This, between us, we can’t use it against each other. No ammo. Keep the inner sanctum . . .”

“Sacred,” he finished.

I relaxed against his chest without even realizing what was happening. I was in his arms, naked, sharing a moment of complete and total vulnerability as if it was normal, and Lex was responding like a human being.

“Agreed.” He kissed my neck. “And I promise.”

My groan of approval must have been encouraging enough for him to keep going as he moved his hand between our bodies. “Shh, don’t panic.”

“Panicking,” I said dumbly.

“Relax.” His mouth was hot against my ear. “This is natural. Normal . . . You’ll like it.”

“Are we sure? Maybe I won’t, and then I’ll disappoint you and get fired!”

Lex burst out laughing. “This isn’t part of the test, Gabs. You won’t fail.”

I whimpered in embarrassment. “How would you know?”

“Because you’re Gabi,” he said simply. “You succeeded the minute you walked into my life and threw me on my ass. Failure isn’t really an option where you’re concerned. Besides”—he rocked against me—“does it feel like you’re failing?”

“No.” I pulled back to gaze into his eyes. “It feels like you . . . may have a thing for me.”

“Big thing.”

“Eh, small thing.”

“Huge.” He nodded.

“I don’t know if I would exaggerate that much, but sure, to each his own,” I teased.

“That’s it.” I was midair, and then he threw me back against the mattress and hovered over me. His head descended, and then all I knew were his kisses.

His touch.

His gentle whispers.

His breath as his air became mine.