SEVEN
When Roxie wokeshe was alone. She blinked at the familiar walls. She was in her room—she’d woken up every morning here for almost her entire life.
Only now she remembered. Now it was all different.
She lifted the sheet, saw she still wore her dress, her underwear. She dropped the sheet and slumped back down on the pillow. Gabe wasn’t there, of course. And she remembered it all. The ferocious kisses, the feel of his weight, the way he’d touched her until she’d come.
But that had been all.
But, damn it, it wasn’t going to be all any more. Now she knew he dreamed of her just as she did him. So there was to be no more pretending otherwise. She wriggled out of her dress, knickers and bra. She refused to leave his bed until he’d come as hard as she had. It was only fair, after all. So she lay back and waited. Trying not to lose her nerve.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. He appeared in the doorway in dark jeans and nothing else. She figured he’d taken a shower given his hair was damp, his jaw clean-shaven. But he still managed to exude edginess—the grump was back.
‘Have you got a headache?’ he asked roughly.
‘No,’ she answered sweetly, stifling the butterflies in her stomach. ‘I wasn’t drunk, Gabe.’
He cleared his throat and looked to the left of her. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Yes,’ she said with determined sass, totally not meaning what he’d meant.
He shot a heated glare at her.
She smiled wider, because she wanted to get to him, she wanted to push him over his damn boundaries. ‘I remember everything.’
He looked so uncomfortable then that Roxie’s anger began to bite. If he dared apologize she was going to have to hurt him.
‘You were tipsy,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...’ His voice trailed off.
Her turn to send a glare—an unforgiving look from top to—oh.
Yeah, that was when she noticed that he was hard. That the bulge in the front of his jeans was nowhere near normal size. That his lickable nipples were taut. That despite the heat of the morning, there were goosebumps peppering his skin.
Her flash of anger fled and amusement—elation—emboldened her. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest for a last second as she got out of the bed. Once standing, she let the sheet fall.
‘Gabe,’ she murmured. As she walked towards him she ran her hands down her sides and let her hips sway. Her whole body was ready to sway with his.
He stared, his mouth open, frozen to the spot.
That reaction was all she needed to lose every last inhibition. ‘You really don’t need to feel bad about doing something that I’d already done to myself.’
His eyes widened, darkened, heated. His mouth shut then opened again before shutting a final time. Clearly renderedspeechless. Dull color washed over his cheekbones. It was the first time Roxie had seen a man blush.
She got within touch distance and let her amusement warm her whisper. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot.’
‘What were you doing when you were thinking about me?’ he answered, completely hoarse.
She ran her tongue along her lips and smiled.
Almost helplessly, he lifted his hands, held them just in front of her. ‘What did you imagine these were doing when you were thinking of me?’
She took them in her own and guided them towards her body. Placed one on her breast. His fingers automatically moved to cup her flesh, to graze over her tight nipple. His other hand she placed palm down on her belly and covered it with her own. Slowly she pushed their fingers down and down.
‘What did you dream I would do?’ he whispered.
‘Everything,’ she murmured, shifting so her feet were slightly further apart. ‘I imagined everything.’
‘Hell, Roxie,’ he muttered. ‘How am I supposed to resist you?’
