“Elena. Jesus– What the fuck? Girl. You need help.” An amused voice pierces my dream, bringing me up a level.
I can breathe. I gasp about like a guppy drowning in an excess of fresh air. “Stuck,” I croak. “Salmon don’t talk.”
“Fucked if I know what salmon do, sweetness, but you’ve done a damn fine job of knotting yourself in here.” Large hands glide along my sides and extract me from the bear’s furry grip.
Or maybe it’s the bear who saves me.
My dream sequence is all out of whack as I pry my eyes open and try to unravel the reality before me.
“Gabriel?”
“You ruined my bed, sweetness.” The hands wrapped around me squeeze gently. He seems to have a thing about that. Dark eyes survey me as I piece together the face before me and come up with one I recognize in the darkness. “What are you wearing?”
“Your shirt." It’s still night. The plethora of stars I’ve spent nights studying are studded against midnight velvet, crisp and clear. Now that I'm out of my marshmallow cocoon, my skin and the night air clash. A shiver rips through me. “Cold,” I mutter, knotting my legs up and my arms around myself. The hem of his shirt tugs to the tops of my thighs.
Gabriel’s eyes track the movement. “It looks good on you.”
“The cold?”
“My shirt.” His fingertips trace the edge of the material next to my thighs, starting from the outside and work their way in.
Suddenly I’m not cold at all.
“You were away for three days,” I whisper.
His fingers trace inward and halt at the join of my legs. He pauses, his breaths long and even. “I did what you asked,” he says eventually.
My heart pounds in my chest. “He’s gone?”
Darkness obscures Gabriel Decker's eyes. He doesn’t nod or make any other confirming movement. “Yes.”
I shiver. My reaction has nothing to do with the outside conditions inside Gabriel’s house.
“That’s what you wanted isn’t it, Elena?”
I hold his gaze. “Yes.”
He nods. “Good.” Those fingers press between my legs. “Open.”
I let out a shuddering breath. “I’m not?—”
“You’re exactly what I want,” He cuts me off. “We agreed on the terms before I left. I told you not to leave. The job is done, and here you are.”’ With every word he arches his body over mine a fraction, his hand pressing downward all the time, spreading my legs open as he demanded. “Is there something I missed,sweetness?”
I fist a hand to his shoulder, barely able to breathe. “I– I’m not ready for this,” I confess, letting him spread me wide. The shirt that I stole hitches around my waist, not covering my lower half at all. I know the moment his hand presses between my legs he’ll find me drenched. The betrayal I can’t prevent. My cheeks heat as I stare up at him.
“What did you expect?”
“I–” Everything I’ve done seems pithy. Stupid. “It doesn’t matter.”
He freezes, his hand resting at the top of my thigh. Rough fingers are mere breaths away from touching me and despite my words,I ache. If I arch my back his hand would be on me and he’ll know how much my body desires exactly what he wants. My head screams at me as I fight even though I don’t know why. Some deep seated need to providemoremaybe? To bemorethan just sex as payment for a job?
But that’s what we agreed to, and I know that.
I do know that.
“It’s nothing,” I repeat, sliding my hand down the front of his Henley. It’s damp. I press the top patch but he doesn’t wince, just watches me. Those eyes are unfathomable in the light that refuses to catch his face. I pull my hand away. Darkness covers it. I don't need to sniff it to know the tang that covers my skin. “Yours or his?” I whisper.
“His,” Gabriel murmurs. His hand presses between my legs. A hiss elicits between his teeth. “Fuck, sweetness. I thought?—”
