Up by Five (16 page)

Her lips were parted as she breathed, her chest flushed a pretty pink that matched her cheeks. He didn’t think for a second that she was embarrassed. He knew she was incredibly turned on and loved that her body gave her away.

“You like it slow?” he asked, demonstrating. “You like feeling every inch of my cock sliding in and out?”

She nodded.

“Or do you want it fast?” He thrust hard, in and out several times, watching as her fingers tried to curl into the floor to anchor herself.

“All of it.” She tightened her muscles around him. “Any of it. I’m going to come either way.”

That’s all he needed to hear. She wanted him in any way. He moved his thumb to her clit, pressing and circling.

“I love how I look moving in and out of you,” he told her gruffly. “The way your wetness looks on my cock. Makes me want to taste you. Makes me want to make you taste me.”

Her muscles clenched and she moaned.

“Conner,” she said between gasps.

“Yeah, G. Anything.”

“Later you can put your mouth wherever you want, but if you stop fucking me right now, I will kill you.”

Torn between groaning and laughing, he slipped his hands under her ass, lifted her and thrust hard and fast until she’d climbed and tumbled over the edge.

He finished right behind her.

He stayed between her knees, catching his breath and letting his body cool, thinking that nothing had ever looked as good to him as the sight of Gabby, spent from sex, lying spread out on his floor.

Eventually he became aware of how hard the floor was beneath his knees, and he collapsed beside her, both of them on their backs.

“So I was also wrong about this,” she said, still sounding a bit short of breath a few minutes later.

“What’s this?”

“That you need a woman who can be demanding with you. You actually love that, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “If you’re asking if I like dirty talk, then hell yes.”

She rolled her head to look at him. “But you like when a woman tells you what she wants.”

“Of course.”

She shook her head and went back to studying the ceiling. “You’re like a chameleon. You’re always whatever the woman you’re with wants. You can be the charming playboy, the romantic gentleman, the dirty scoundrel.”

His chest tightened at her words. She wasn’t wrong. He was surprised, however, that she’d realized it.

She reached over and linked her fingers with his. Conner closed his fingers around hers, the contact making the tension in his body ease slightly.

“You want the women to tell you what they need sexually so you can be sure to be what they want.” She almost sounded like she was talking to herself. “So much of your life has been about helping women—your sisters, your emergency victims, even the women you date.” She looked at him again. “You’ve always been the best with our adult-female victims.”

Yep, he knew that. He had a way with women. It was a fact.

“There’s nothing wrong with being what women need and want.”

She squeezed his hand. “No, there’s not. Until it’s keeping you from having what you need and want.”

He should have known that even hot sex with Gabby would turn into some big discussion of feelings. She was female, after all.

“I have what I need and want.”

“Yeah?” She sat up, but kept hold of his hand.

“Yeah. Being the hero, being needed, being the guy all the woman want—that’s what I need and want.”

She nodded. “I think that’s true on some level. But then again, you’ve never been asked what
you
want, right?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Women make you pancakes, but you don’t ask them to.”

“I love pancakes.”

“But they don’t actually know that because they never ask.”

“Pancakes are a lot like sex—they’re pretty damned good even when they’re not so good.”

“But why don’t you deserve to have cinnamon rolls once in a while?” Gabby asked.

He knew exactly where this was going. “Once in a while I run into a girl who likes cinnamon rolls more than pancakes.” Once in a while he ran into a girl who liked sex the way he liked it—hot and spontaneous on a poker table, for instance.

“But it’s a coincidence then. Still not because she’s making you cinnamon rolls because that’s what you want.”

“Look, even blueberry muffins are good when they’re made with warmth and affection.” That was really the bottom line for him. He liked women who liked him. And he liked making women who liked him happy. Which sometimes meant eating blueberry muffins…or having vanilla sex in bed with the lights off. It wasn’t like he really thought anyone would feel sorry for him.

Gabby rolled her eyes. “You don’t like blueberry muffins?”

“There are a lot of better things.”

“You shouldn’t have to have blueberry muffins if you don’t want them, Conner.”

“I can’t ask every woman I meet if she likes cinnamon rolls,” he said. He never would have thought of using breakfast foods as euphemisms for sex, but it worked.

“You need to find a woman who will eat cinnamon rolls once in a while because
you
like them. Shouldn’t
always
matter what she likes.”

“Gabby, you know what happens when I eat blueberry muffins?”

“What?”

“I get full and happy. Same thing happens with cinnamon rolls.”

“Not the point.”

He sighed and sat up. He knew that shutting her up with a kiss would only move the conversation to another time. “What’s the point?”

“Just that you deserve to have someone who likes
you
.”

He chuckled. “Women like me, Gabby.”

“They don’t,” she said. “They think they do, of course. They like how you look and the things you say and the way you make them feel. Because that’s the focus, right? You focus on
them
. What makes them smile, what makes them giggle, what makes them blush, what makes them coo and follow you around.”

“Coo?” But she was very close to the truth. He loved when women smiled and giggled and blushed and…cooed.

He felt like a fucking king when he could evoke those responses.

And knew
exactly
where it came from.

When his dad died, his mother and sisters had been, rightly, devastated. His mom had lost her one true love and Conner would never forget the look on her face as his dad’s coffin was lowered into the ground at the cemetery. A piece of her had died too. She was never quite the same. But Conner couldn’t accept that. He did everything he could think of to make her smile, to make her feel special, to make her happy again. Even if it was for just a little while.

He’d taken up his father’s torch, making sure the Dixon women knew they were valued and special and deserved respect from the men they interacted with—from teachers to bosses to boyfriends.

And he’d extended his actions to other women. He felt very rewarded when he could make a woman feel important, valued, special.

“Yes, coo,” Gabby said. “But they don’t really know you. Otherwise they’d know that you’d prefer cinnamon rolls and they’d like you enough to give them to you.”

Yeah, she definitely needed to be doing something other than talking.

“Do you like me, Gabby?”

That seemed to take her back for a moment. “Of course I do.”

“Then let’s go to bed.”

She tipped her head. “And what are you going to do in there?”

“Make you scream.”

She looked at him for several seconds. Finally she said, “What do you want me to do to
you
, Conner?”

He reached for her. “Anything you want, G.”

She moved back. “I want to know what
you
want.”

He sighed and dropped his hand. “I
want
to make you crazy.”

“I want to make
you
crazy,” she said.

“Making you crazy will make me crazy.” He was getting a headache.

“I want you to demand something from me.”

She was still naked, but somehow managed to look fierce anyway.

“No.” The cock-sucking comment was as close to that as he was going to get and he’d said it mostly because he knew it would turn her on.

“Look, Conner, I’m not going to go crazy. I’m not the type of girl to go crazy. That’s going to frustrate the hell out of you. Why not let me concentrate on
you
for a change?”

“So generous of you,” he muttered. Christ. He wasn’t the type, had never been the type, to put himself ahead of someone else, even in bed. He was sure some psychologist could have a great time with
that
. But he was no saint either. And his entire body was screaming for him to take her up on her offer.

She grinned. “It really is, huh? But it’ll be good. Like…charity.”

He scowled at her. “Excuse me?”

She nodded. “You’re a good guy. You take care of your sisters and your mom, you’re a great friend, a fantastic paramedic—you’re all about everyone else. Now I’m here, not the type to like being fawned over…but you want me. So I can do some of the fawning over
you
. It’ll go along with your retirement plan. The kicking back in the hammock with the piña colada… Just add a cabana girl to the picture.”

And of course his imagination easily put Gabby in a coconut bra and grass skirt. Then out of them. Serving him, jumping when he snapped his fingers, doing his bidding…

“No.” He pushed the fantasy to the back of his mind.

“Then I guess we’re done here.” She pushed to her feet and gathered her clothes.

“We’re not even close to done,” he growled, reaching for her.

She dodged his hand.

“Night, Conner. See you tomorrow.”

He watched her walk away, stunned. She was almost to the hallway when he said,
“What?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Until you’re ready to be a little selfish in bed, no more sex for you.”

“You
want
me to be selfish in bed?”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t sure he could that.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Sleep well, Conner.” And she disappeared down the hallway.

Well, fuck.

Conner got to his feet, looked at the broken table and knew he couldn’t deal with that tonight. He turned off the lights on his way to his bedroom.

But not without glancing at her bedroom door and realizing that he’d managed to have mind-blowing sex
and
was getting his bed all to himself in the same night.

That should have sounded like heaven.

It didn’t.

The one woman he
wanted
to sleep wrapped around was the
one
who could easily walk away.

Wasn’t that just perfect?

He climbed into bed more sure than ever of one important fact—women were trouble. Always.

Chapter Seven

Gabby walked into the break room at St. Anthony’s for their shift at six forty-five the next morning. Conner could leave the apartment before she made it to the kitchen, but she was curious how he thought he was going to avoid her for the next twelve hours of work.

That was exactly why, previously, she’d felt very strongly that she should
not
get involved with a coworker. There was no room for awkward mornings after.

“There’s my girl!” Mac Gordon stepped in front of Gabby and gathered her and her backpack all up into a huge bear hug.

Her feet dangling a good four inches off the floor and all of her air squeezed out, the only thing Gabby could do was hang on.

A few seconds later, Mac put her back on her feet.

She staggered back. “What was that for?” she asked, her hand splayed on her chest as her lungs sucked in oxygen.

“I’ve always liked you, Evans,” Mac said with a huge grin. “Ever since you won that hot-dog-eating contest at the annual picnic, I knew you were special. But you are now my new favorite person in the entire world,” Mac announced. “I swear, I want to…buy you a car.”

“I don’t need a car. What are you talking about?”

“You’re the new Sara,” Mac said. “Thank god.”

“What?”

“This might help.”

Gabby looked over at Dooley Miller, another of the paramedics on the overnight crew. He was holding up a box wrapped in shiny red paper with a big white bow.

“What’s that?”

“For you. From Conner. Along with these.” Dooley held up a plate of what looked like cookies.

“And this.” Sam Bradford was holding up a hot-pink envelope.

Suspicious, Gabby moved closer. The cookies were round and frosted to look like poker chips.

She stared. Stunned.

“What’s in the box?” she asked.

“I didn’t open it,” Dooley said, offended.

“But you peeled off the tape on the end, looked and then retaped it, right?” Gabby asked.

Dooley’s mouth dropped open.

“So what is it?” Gabby asked.

“A Crock-Pot.”

“A Crock-Pot?” she repeated. It had to be one of the smaller ones. Like for hors d’oeuvres. Or dips.

She took a deep breath. “And the envelope?”

“We didn’t look at
that
,” Dooley said firmly.

“He couldn’t figure out how to open it without it being obvious,” Sam said with a grin, holding it out.

Gabby took it with trepidation. Just what was Conner up to?

Inside the envelope was a gift card to Tease, the lingerie and adult-toy store downtown, and a note that said,
You deserve the good stuff
.

Uh-huh.

“Oh good, you’re here.”

She spun at the sound of Conner’s voice. The voice that made her tingle. Damn.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

“Making you crazy,” he said simply, crossing to the coffeepot.

Well, that was about right. And that was
before
the poker-chip cookies. Walking away from him last night had been the hardest thing she’d done in a long time. And that included intubating a clown at a kid’s birthday party last month.

“And if he’s running all over Omaha before dawn getting poker-chip cookies for
you
, he won’t be doing anything asinine for
my
wife
,” Mac said, looking quite pleased.