Dearest Series Boxed Set (28 page)

W
hen we reach
my front door, Gavin stops like there’s an invisible force field, zips up his hoodie and tucks his hands into his pockets. I open the door, waiting for him to follow, but he doesn’t. The night is cold, and wisps of his breath float into the breeze.

Oh, I get it. He’s trying to be a gentleman, to have restraint and not take things too far.
Uh, yeah, screw that.

I’m on a step above him, but he’s still taller. With my hands on my hips, I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him. “Get over here.”

He leans in an inch, and I grab both sides of his hoodie and yank him to me hard so that we’re nose to nose.

“You wrote me a song.”

The grin that erupts on his face takes my breath away. When girls describe a guy as having a panty-dropping smile, it’s always made me roll my eyes, but not tonight because, hell yes, this boy could get me to drop my drawers in a heartbeat.

“Did you like it?” he asks, and oh my lord, he looks shy.

I nod slowly and nibble seductively on my lip, or at least I hope it looks seductive and not like bad 70s porn, but given the way he’s staring at my mouth, it has the intended effect. “Yes, and I have a surprise for you too.” And, oh, do I!

Grabbing his hand before he has a chance to ask any questions, I push the door open and pull him in behind me.

My heart is a jackhammer in my chest, but I try not to let fears about my inexperience overwhelm me.

No one is home, which is perfect. I drop my bag by the couch and head to my room, my fingers still linked with his. I stop at my bedroom door and turn to face him.

“I need you to go get something out of the fishbowl.”

Gavin tilts his head.
He must not remember.
I grin, almost unable to keep it together. “Go to the bathroom and grab a couple of packages out of the fishbowl. Go.”

I shoo him with my hand, and he looks at me like I’m crazy but complies, walking into the bathroom and turning on the light. The fishbowl is up on the third shelf, so it’s possible he’s never seen it.

Slipping into my room, I flip on my stereo before I toss a scarf over my lamp to diffuse it. When I turn around, he’s in my doorway. He has something clutched in his hand, and he’s staring at me. Intensely.

I thought he’d run back in here and rip off all of my clothes, but he hasn’t moved a muscle.
Okay
. Guess I have to make the first move. Kicking off my Chucks, I smile before I pull him in and shut the door.

“Gavin? You okay?”

His eyes tighten, and his lips turn into a devilish grin, one I’d like to lick, but I decide to play his game, the one he started on my front stoop.

“So you’re kind of a good boy,” I say with mock judgment. I open his palm and take the condoms, tossing them on my bed. “Always following all the rules. Not wanting any conflicts of interest.” Unzipping his jacket, I look at him with a little pout. “Am I a conflict of interest, Gavin?” I don’t stop undressing him as I wait for his answer.

“You are, darlin’.” His voice is breathy and deep. “Because I usually play it safe, and you’re anything but.”
I don’t know that I’d categorize Angelique as safe, but she was a journalist, so they must have had a lot in common.

“Hmm. That’s distressing.” Pushing off his hoodie puts a small smile on my face. “Maybe I could say something to make you feel better.” I tug his shirt off before angling him deeper into my room and pushing him onto the bed. “I can’t believe you wrote me a song. I
love
it. In fact, I might have to show you how much I love it.”

His green eyes smolder beneath those lusciously dark lashes, making the blood rush to my cheeks. Realizing how convenient this teeny cheerleader skirt is, I sit astride him. He licks his lips, and deep hot desire for this perfect man burns in my belly.

I’m on shaky territory here. So outside of my safe zone. But I think about Jenna and how she always goes the extra mile for Ryan.
I can do this.
Because I’m in my pep-talk mode, I hear the theme to
Rocky
, which is all wrong and does nothing to get me in the mood. I shake my head, trying to get Sylvester Stallone out of my mind when Gavin runs his hands up my thighs.

Now that gets my attention. I grab his face between my hands and press myself closer. He hasn’t shaved, and I love the roughness of him on my skin.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this ton—”

I put my finger on his lips for a moment before I place my hands on his chest and push him down. Hovering over him, I reach up and pull out my ponytail, letting my long hair cascade around us.

“Do I look like someone’s holding a gun to my head?” If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he didn’t want to do this. But doesn’t every guy want to have sex? Doubt rears its fugly head. Is it possible he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Shit. I don’t want to throw myself at him.

He must see it in my eyes.

“Clementine.”

I’m starting to scoot off him when he grabs my wrists and pulls me down so that I collapse on him, hip to hip, belly to belly. But I already burn with the sting of rejection, and I start to wiggle away. His grasp on my arms tighten. “Stop. Of course I want to. I just don’t want you to think that you owe me anything.”

I stare at him, silent. He arches his head so he can kiss me, but I don’t kiss back, which makes him growl.

“I want to fuck you to next Friday and back again. Does that make you feel better?”

Staring, a little shocked and wide-eyed, I burst out laughing, and then he rumbles beneath me, laughing too. Thank fuck he didn’t say he wants to make love. I would have shot myself.

“Yes, actually it does.” I prop myself on his chest, and run my fingers in imaginary lines on his skin.

There’s enough light in here so I can see this masterpiece beneath me, all chiseled muscle and taut lines. Finally, I rest my chin on my hands and look down at him. “Well, if we’re making sure to clarify everything tonight, you should know that I have some requirements.” His mouth tugs up slightly as he waits to hear my demands. “If you want this to work, I have three rules.”

He nods slowly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“One, no more lies or omissions. I don’t care if the president of the United States is fucking his entire staff and you have the inside scoop but you’re sworn to secrecy. You tell me.”

He smirks. “Fine.”

“Two, no snuggling with groupies—ever—and no more overnight trips with Angelique or I will break your hand, the one you use for self-satisfaction.”

His grin grows. “Deal.” His arms tighten around my waist as his legs open, dropping me between his thighs where an unmistakable hardness greets me.

“And lastly,” I say, leaning down and stopping just before our lips meet, “never let go.”

The expression on his face is the only indication that I’ve negotiated my third sticking point before he flips me over onto my back. I’m lying here breathless, thinking he’s going to devour me, but he gets up, and for a scary half second, I’m worried he’s leaving.

My heart races, and I sit up only to realize he’s undressing. His shoes hit the floor, one after the other, before he stands next to the bed. He changed out of his football pants after the show—he said he was cold, but I think it was so girls would stop grabbing his ass.

I watch as he unbuttons his jeans and lowers them over his sculpted hips, revealing those amazing V muscles that lead down to his Never-Never Land. Holy shit. He’s a delicious morsel in nothing but a pair of boxers.

Trying to reciprocate the sexy, I sink back into bed, tucking my hand under my head and sticking my chest and hips out the way models do, and hope I don’t look like an idiot. But his eyes pass over me slowly, appreciatively.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he says as he crawls up my body, staring hungrily.

“If I told you I loved you right now, would you think I was using you?” I ask, half teasing. Running my fingers through his hair, I whisper in his ear, “Because I do. I do love you.” He brings his mouth to mine, his tongue gently pushing into my mouth, his hands running along my body, driving me insane with desire.

I thought I loved Daren, and I did in a butterfly-and-hearts kind of way, but it was nothing like this. This is an asteroid shower on a summer night. A tidal wave crashing onto the breakers. Falling over the edge of Niagara Falls in an inner tube. Because I have fallen, irreparably, for Gavin Murphy.

“You might not be able to tell, but I love you too, crazy girl,” he says amusedly against my mouth. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

His hand ducks beneath the fabric of my shirt, and I push him back slightly so I can tug it off, leaving me in a hot pink push-up and my little skirt.

Gavin runs his finger along the strap of my bra, down to the cup and across the top of my breast until he reaches the clasp where he hesitates. His eyes meet mine and I nod. My skin instantly tightens in the cold room.

His hands are reverent as they smooth across my bare skin. I push my chest into him, and he grips me, sliding his hips between mine. I wrap my legs around his waist and wiggle against his hardness, hoping to get a little friction on the part of me that’s throbbing like it’s disco night.

He stops and grins. “I have something for that.”

I watch, open-mouthed, as he descends down my body, kissing and touching and nipping until he reaches my spankies, which he slides down along with my lacy undies until I get them off.

He kneels between my legs, and I’m lying topless with my skirt hitched up around my hips, trying not to squirm as he looks at me. And oh, good God, does he look. My heart is pounding, and I’m not entirely sure I can breathe.

“Are you up for a different kind of third base?” He grins so big, I might have a heart attack. I realize we’re back to baseball metaphors as he lowers himself to my thighs. He takes my legs and drapes them over his shoulders, opening me up more.

Sweet Jesus.

Gavin’s hot breath hits my skin first, and his mouth on the most sensitive part of my body has me gripping the bed and writhing. I wasn’t expecting this. I know some guys don’t do this, but it’s fan-fucking-tastic. My eyes damn near roll back in my head as his tongue slides slowly against me, teasing and caressing. But when he slips in a finger, my body lifts off the bed. I grab his hair as his stubble rubs along my thighs, and my toes curl along his shoulders. I hear a moan, then another. Then I realize I’m the wanton moaner, lost in an explosion of light and sensation as a climax shatters me. I’m not sure how long I’m shuddering before I catch my breath.

Gavin crawls back up me with a very self-satisfied look on his face. I pull him down to me and kiss him, too out of it and euphoric to be embarrassed by the taste of myself on his lips. I hear the tearing of a wrapper and realize he’s taking out a condom.

“Show me how to do that,” I murmur sleepily. Did I really just ask my boyfriend to show me how to put on a condom? I don’t recognize the naked girl lying here in bed asking such questions.

Yes, I’ve purchased condoms and practiced safe sex the one time I went there, but the act of putting it on seems perplexing. Hello, it’s a body part I don’t have.

“Okay.” He smiles, rolling over and placing the circular disk in my hand. “Come here.”

I struggle to sit up next to him and finally get my first good look. He’s at full mast, saluting me proudly, and my eyes bug out, making him chuckle.

“Honey, I don’t think you’re going to fit,” I say nervously. Sure, we’ve messed around, but I’ve never gotten a really good look at him
down there.

Smirking, he kisses me on the forehead and lies back. He takes my hand, placing it on the crown, and helps me roll on the condom. As my hand moves against him, I have to admit I love his velvety, rock-hard man parts.

When he’s locked and loaded, he looks up and we stare at each other.

This is it.

Gavin clears his throat. “Get on top.” His raspy voice sends shivers down my arms. “That way you can control it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

My face must be on fire right now, and I blurt, “But I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s true. I don’t. My one-night stand was quick and unpleasant. It was nameless, faceless rebound sex, and I’ve mostly blocked it out of my mind. Suddenly, though, I wish I wasn’t so clueless.

He smiles sweetly. “Babe, I think you can figure this out.”

Oh God. Oh my God. Trying not to freak out, I straddle his hips.

“I’m still wearing my skirt,” I giggle. I’m clearly anxious as all kinds of random things are shooting right out of my mouth.

“Yeah, it’s hot. I’ve always wanted to bang a cheerleader.”

I swat at him, and he laughs, grabbing my wrists and pulling me down to kiss. He laces our fingers together as he whispers how much he loves me, that I’m his dream girl, that he has more songs for me. My heart melts as does some of my hesitation.

He’s rock-hard beneath me, and when I wiggle, his eyes darken. Wanting to make him feel as good as he's made me feel, I glide across him slowly, which he must like because he grips my hair. I tighten my thighs, and he groans. All of this friction has me throbbing again, which is crazy because I just had a totally mind-blowing orgasm five minutes ago.

After a little more grinding, I decide to take the plunge and angle him at my entrance.

He clears his throat. “Baby, are you sure? We don’t have to. I’ll wait as long as you need.” His voice is clipped and husky, and everything about it says he wants this as much as I do.

“God,
yes
, I’m sure.”

He chuckles and grabs my thighs as I slowly push down. The farther I get, the more intense Gavin looks. It pinches at first, but it’s the only thing that helps the throbbing, and I want more. Finally, I can’t stand it any more, and I let gravity pull me down. I instantly topple over onto him, unable to deal with the fullness.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” he groans. I would blush ten shades of red if I weren’t already flushed from our recent activity.

I don’t budge at first. I can’t. His hands run down my back like he’s soothing me, and I close my eyes, our naked chests panting against one another. We’re hot and sweaty, and this is, hands down, the most intimate moment of my life.