Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(111)

By staying.

Sexy violet-blues scrolled over him, her lashes fluttering. She gave no more than a cursory nod to his foot, but his boxers? The hello darling spike beneath the gray and black plaid had definitely gotten her attention.

He crawled up the bed to where she sat, a little wary. The more he advanced, the more she tilted backward, the uncertainty shifting over her lovely face replaced by stark appraisal. Her tongue slipped over her bottom lip, licking it as if she was hungry. And he wanted it on him. He was hungry, too.

His confidence soared. His foot had passed Shelby’s seal of approval. Now—for the rest of him.

He kept advancing until he was directly over her core, and she knew it.

Not once had she shifted out of his way.

The glasses had to go. He lifted them off her nose and set them on the nightstand.

“Shelby Sullivan,” he said, his voice hoarse and deep. “Say it again.”

Just once more.

She transformed from shy girl into her alter ego. Bossy. Controlling. Nurse Sullivan. Her hands went straight to his manhood, shocking the hell out of him that she was brave enough to touch him there.

“Is this what you want to know, Agent Cartwright?” Her chin jutted forward in a dare. “What? Did you think you could scare me with that funny foot of yours, huh? Did you think I’d run because you’re kind of a bionic man and I’m just a woman?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” The conversation had taken an incredibly tender turn. This amazing, complicated woman had seen right through his bravado, the same way that he was looking through hers.

With one hand in his boxers, the other gripping his neck, she pulled him down to her mouth, nipping his lower lip with a good pinch. “I love you, Gabriel Cartwright. I love your bravery and your courage. I love your body and your feet. Both of them. You don’t scare me.”

Her clothes flew somewhere. So did his boxers. He needed to feel and to taste every inch of the soft sweet body beneath his. There was only one problem. The bold woman who’d surprised him with her audaciousness at the get-go had suddenly demurred back into the real Shelby Sullivan.

She might have known how to get his attention, and his erection, but this woman had no skills when it came to the real art of making love. His heart pinched at the sight of the brave lamb in bed with him. Yeah. She was all he’d hoped for.

Gabe stifled the need to bend her over and take her hard. Not for a first time. Not for this woman. The first time had to mean something more, so before he lost control, he eased away from her lips, capturing the greedy hands that seemed intent on exploring his body.

He stretched her arms over her head, pinning her wrists with one hand, the rest of her with his hips. The tender thing didn’t spread her feet, much less her knees to accommodate him.

He burrowed one kneecap between her legs until she parted them. Damned if she didn’t clench up on him the second he sank between her knees.

“Shell,” he said, his intentions for her body crystal clear. She had to know by now. There was no mistaking the happy part of his anatomy now resting solidly against her stomach. He released her hands. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”


That might not have been the smartest question. She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. “No, but I want to. With you.”

“Why?” He cupped the side of her face, his fingers in her delightfully cool and soft blond locks. Was making love enough? Or was he a fool to be thinking beyond the incredible gift she’d offered? Did she want that same elusive more that he did?

“Because I’ve never cared for anyone like I care about you,” she said quietly. Timidly. “You’re not like other guys. I want to get to know you better. And I really like it when you call me Shell. It’s sweet.”

He gulped, the tantalizing scent of her arousal overcoming his decision to take it slow and easy. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Why?” she asked. “Don’t you, umm, want me?”

And there it was, the real question of the night. God yes, he wanted her, but not in a one night, slam, bam, thank you ma’am kind of way. That wasn’t him.

He rolled his eyes, teasing her, needing her to smile again. “Would I be laying here buck-assed naked if I didn’t want you?” His heart climbed up his throat, the rest of him hardened and craving her touch. “But you need to be sure this is what you want. I’ll go slow, and I’ll use a condom, but if you want me to stop, say the word. Just know that once we do this, there will be dating and there will be rules. There might even be sleepovers.”

Her breath caught with one short sharp “oh” at his ordering her around. Apparently, she liked it. The lady melted, her face lit with a glow that was his undoing.

“God, I love you, Shelby,” he promised with all his heart, wanting her more than ever. “I know it’s soon, but I’m not a patient man. I’ve lost too much already, and who knows what will happen tomorrow. I don’t trust time anymore.”

He cringed. Crap. That sounded an awful lot like the line guys going off to war used to get girls into bed. But some of them came back, right? Some of those hasty proposals turned out okay, didn’t they? Must have. The baby boom of the fifties was legendary.

“Are you going to talk all night or are you going to kiss me?” she asked, her voice all sexy and sultry and, hot damn. Gabe sheathed himself and sank to do her bidding, his knees now comfortably between her legs and the stiffness gone from her body.