A Billionaire's Redemption(31)

Noble or sycophantic? Had he let go of his obsession with pleasing Melinda or hadn’t he? When John Merris had rejected him, had he been so needy that he’d turned to the next impossible-to-please control freak he could find? The thought sickened him vaguely. He was his own man, dammit. Had been for years. But who’d have guessed those ancient apron strings would be so hard to cut? He ought to walk away from Melinda and let her stew in whatever mess she’d landed in.

But Willa was right. Melinda was a human being. He couldn’t turn his back on her in her time of need. It was common decency to see this thing through.

Surprised at Willa’s altruism, he replied, “It’s good of you to understand. She and I haven’t had anything between us since long before we divorced. But she’s got no one else. Her brother’s her only living family, and he’s in jail for the rest of his life. I didn’t have a choice but to step up and help out.”

He was a cad for taking credit for such noble motives. But the way Willa’s eyes softened and warmed toward him, how could he not do it? He’d do just about anything to make her look at him like he was some kind of hero.

And about tonight,” she said softly, snapping his attention sharply back to her, “thanks.”

You’re not mad at me for punching Ward?” Melinda would have had a fit and called him a Neanderthal for acting out on his violent impulses.

Mad?” she exclaimed. “I’m just grateful I was there to see it! I wish I could do the same.”

You can. You just need to learn how to make a proper fist and put your weight behind it.” Inspired, he stood up. “I’ll show you now.”

* * *

Across town, her nemesis stewed. Funny, but Willa didn’t even know she had a nemesis. But she would, soon enough. That was a promise.

Willa Merris would get hers, all right. That bitch thought she could sic her toy boy on decent, upstanding members of the community and get away with it? Someone needed to take her down a peg or two. Hell, knock her off the damn pegboard.

Uppity bitch.

Pain would be hers. Panic. Suffering. Death.

Definitely a knife. Peel her skin like an orange.

* * *

Gabe was mesmerized as Willa smiled up at him and rose to her feet. He led her over by the windows where there was open space for them to maneuver.

Rule number one,” he lectured, “never stick your thumb inside your fist. Curl your fingers and keep your thumb outside your fist so you don’t break it.”

She nodded in concentration, getting into the spirit of the thing, and rolled her fists into experimental balls.

Rule number two,” he said, warming to his subject, “keep your fist aligned with your arm bones. If you cock your wrist and really put force into your punch, you’ll break your wrist.”

He showed her how to punch her left palm with her right fist to get the feel of how the energy traveled down her arm. After a minute, she nodded and held up two credible fists in front of her.

And now to put your weight behind it.” He showed her how to punch off her back foot, leveraging her entire body weight into the thing. She didn’t get it right away, though, and he moved behind her, put his arms around her and guided her body through a slow-motion punch.

She felt so good in his arms, he could barely focus on the task at hand, though. And she smelled good, too. That intoxicating gardenia scent of hers swirled around her. It made him think of southern belles and hot, lazy summer nights. And sex. Smoking-hot, mind-blowing, toe-curling sex with a lady turned wildcat.

She relaxed back against him, her body going limpid in his arms. Memory of that body by turns taut and boneless against his surged through him. His head lowered and his mouth found the shell of her ear. She inhaled on a sexy little gasp as his lips brushed across it. Her hips rocked back, pressing against his exquisitely uncomfortable groin. He groaned under his breath as lust pounded through him.

She turned in his arms, and suddenly the prim-and-proper lady gave way to the siren. She kissed him so deeply his head spun, promising delights that would beggar the mind. And he had just enough whiskey in his system to ignore the little voice in his head warning that the two of them still had things to work out before they fell into the sack again.

He didn’t have to drag her up against him. She was already there, pressing herself into him, her arms twining around his neck as if she couldn’t get enough of him. His hands slipped under her linen suit, shoving the pesky thing off her shoulders. The white silk of her entirely too prudish blouse at least had the good grace to cling enticingly to her curves. He cupped her breast through the sleek fabric and she moaned softly, arching into him even harder.

He didn’t deserve her. He ought to let her go. She was young and had her whole life ahead of her. And he was a half-drunk old man who had no business taking advantage of her. Not to mention she’d had an upsetting encounter with James Ward just a few hours ago. She needed time to recover, and any half-considerate bastard would keep his hands off her tonight. But damned if he could stop himself.

He did promise himself to go slow with her. To be gentle and let her call the shots. It was a flimsy compromise between his conscience and his lust, but it was the best his impaired judgment could manage under the circumstances.

He untied the annoying bow at her neck and worked his way down the row of buttons that guarded her virtue like tiny, plastic sentinels. The silk fell away beneath his fingers, and he inhaled sharply at the fragile lace bra that came into sight. The naughty beneath the nice of it made his knees go a little weak. Or maybe it was just all the blood pooling in his groin that made him light-headed.

Willa returned the favor and unbuttoned his shirt with gratifying haste. He’d already shed his jacket and tie when he got home. He led her toward the sofas as they mutually stripped each other, he dragging her skinny skirt down over her hips while she fumbled at his trousers eagerly.

He groaned as her hand dipped inside his briefs, clasping him boldly and fanning the inferno that was his desire. She bumped into the back of the sofa, and he kissed her deeply, invading her mouth with his tongue the way he wanted to invade the rest of her body. Her hands shoved impatiently at his remaining clothing, and he stepped out of the puddle of wool. He eased her sexy little panties down and cupped her core, all but scorching his fingers on her eager heat.

She whispered hotly in his ear of how badly she wanted him and her fingers squeezed his flesh until he nearly exploded. His jaw dropped when she turned around in his arms and bent slightly over the back of the sofa. She gave him a smile and a come-hither look over her shoulder that brought a disbelieving grin to his face. Apparently, the lady had given way to the wildcat.

Gripping her hips, he guided her gently back and onto him, letting her find the perfect fit. She groaned his name aloud as he filled her tight heat, seeking the core of her desire. She rocked against him experimentally, and he savored the elegant curve of her spine as she arched backward into him.

More,” she murmured.

As the lady requested. He pressed deeper into her by slow degrees, gritting his teeth as she slid up and down his length, wet and hot. He ventured farther and farther until she finally went still around him.

You all right?” he managed to grind out, straining for all he was worth not to slam into her mindlessly. He felt her internal muscles relax and adjust to accommodate him, and then she was gripping him again, her body pulsing so sweetly around his, he nearly lost it then and there.

Oh, yes,” she gasped. “I’m fine. More than fine. Fantastic.”

He moved slowly, worried about hurting her in this position that gave him such deep access to her body. She wiggled impatiently against him, silently demanding more. He loosed the reins on his lust a tiny bit.

Please, Gabe. Don’t make me beg.”

For what, baby?”

For all of you. I want it all. Now. Please...” She ended on a keening moan that was so sexy he couldn’t stop his hips from rocking forward, from pushing to the hilt within her. Checking himself sharply, he withdrew partway and eased forward carefully once more.

Again,” she panted.

Faster,” she begged.

Harder,” she demanded.

And he complied, dammit. How could he not? All his best intentions to be gentle with her went right out the window as she planted her hands on the sofa cushions and opened herself entirely to him, sobbing out her pleasure as he finally let go, pounding mindlessly into her, lost in her body and their mutual lust and the completeness with which she gave herself to him.

She arched up off the leather, shuddering around him as she cried his name out loud. Her orgasm went on and on, one spasm folding into the next until she destroyed what little control he had left. His own orgasm ripped through him like thunder and lightning. He shouted her name hoarsely, gripping her hips to his until their bodies were all but fused together. She shuddered out the final throes of her massive orgasm as he collapsed against her, covering her body protectively with his.

You’ve killed me, woman,” he panted in her ear.