Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy #1)(37)
“Oh, watch me,” he growled, lifting her shirt and taking in the sight of her breasts, encased in pale-peach silk. He ran a thumb over her nipple, watching it bead behind the cup of her bra. Then he lowered his head and sucked on the hard tip through the silk.
Her hand went to the back of his head, her fingers gripping his hair as she gasped his name.
He tugged the front of the cup down with a finger, exposing her flesh and swirling his tongue around her nipple. She wiggled against him.
“Gabe, we can’t do this here.”
“We can,” he assured her. “We’re going to. I’m starving for you, Ad.”
Her breath caught, but she tried again. “Anyone could walk in.”
“No one’s due here again until tomorrow, and Corey locked the door behind him.”
“How do you know?”
“He and Dana are the only ones who have keys.”
There was a second’s pause, then Addison breathed out. “Thank God.” She reached between them and stripped off her shirt, then unhooked her bra and tossed them both to the floor behind him. Then she brought his head back down.
Gabe gave a gruff chuckle but instantly went back to teasing the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. Soon she was reaching for his fly and had him unzipped and his aching cock in hand. Feeling her fingers wrap around him and squeeze and stroke nearly sent him to his knees.
“Holy hell, Ad,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“Need you,” she said simply.
“All you needed to say.” He leaned back, unbuttoned her pants and, when she lifted her hips, whisked them off, along with the silk panties that, of course, matched the color of her pants. He took a moment to take in the sight of her. He felt like it had been three years rather than three weeks since he’d last seen her, touched her, lost himself in her.
He ran a hand up the inside of her thigh, glorying in the silky heat of her skin. “Spread for me, Ad.”
His heart turned over in his chest when she parted her knees, bracing her hands on the table behind her, and leaned back slightly. He cupped the heat at the apex of her thighs and then slid a finger along the silky seam.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He slid a finger in slowly, feeling the tight, wet heat that made him desperate to have it around his cock.
He wanted to push his pants down and thrust. That was almost all that would register in his mind. But it felt different this time. He’d missed her, he was aching for her, he wanted every damned inch of her against and around every inch of him. But there was more driving him tonight. He pumped his finger deep, relishing her groan and the way her body tightened around him. This didn’t just feel hot. And it didn’t feel playful and fun. This felt . . . primal. He wanted to take her. He wanted to possess her. He wanted to wreck her so that she couldn’t walk away, so that she couldn’t stop thinking of him, so that she would never find anything else to satisfy her.
And that was so unlike him that he froze for a moment. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the Neanderthal type. But as Addison shifted on the table and said, “Please, Gabe,” he thought that maybe he was, actually. It was just that he’d never wanted someone like this before.
He removed his finger so he could reach into his pocket for a condom and ripped it open. Then he paused and met her eyes. “My condom.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. This time they were going to use his condom.
It was not something he’d given a lot of thought to before Addison. Condoms were condoms and, knock on wood, had done their jobs. The night Cooper had been conceived had been a condom-less event. But Addison took charge of the condoms usually. And now, he really wanted—needed—her to trust him to take care of this. Of her.
It was a small thing, really. Condoms were a detail that millions of people barely gave a thought to every day. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. Because it wasn’t a small thing to Addison.
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded.
With his breath lodged in his chest and his eyes on hers, he pulled the condom from the packet and rolled it on. Her tongue wet her bottom lip as she watched, and Gabe felt heat surge through his cock.
He took her hips in his hands and pulled her to the edge of the table. He took her thighs in his hands, tipping her back until she was propped on her elbows, and spread her legs. She was at his mercy. She didn’t have a lot of leverage, and she couldn’t reach him. She was all his, and even as he eased in to her slowly, watching every inch disappear one by one, Gabe felt the possessive, this-is-all-mine, caveman stuff rip through him. And he loved it. Reveled in it. Wanted to feel it forever.
Addison’s head fell back, her long hair brushing the table where just an hour ago, brightly frosted sugar cookies had sat. Gabe pulled out and then thrust again, loving the idea that every time she walked into this room from now on, she’d think of this.
“Gabe,” she panted. “Yes.”
He watched her breasts bounce as he thrust, could see every delicious, pink inch between her legs, took in her tight stomach, her smooth thighs, and the way her fingers tried to dig into the table, but couldn’t get a grip. But it was the look of bliss on her face, the way she leaned back and let him take her, the abandon of her hair falling around her shoulders, the fact that she was completely naked and that he still wore a shirt and had his pants only to his knees that fired his blood. This was not the put-together, confident, do-it-all-herself single mom and renowned architect in her pencil skirts carrying a briefcase with carefully organized files inside. This was the woman underneath all that. The one who was a little unsure and a little vulnerable. The one whose lipstick was smudged—because of him. Whose hair was tousled—because of him. And who was bare-ass naked on a table—for him. The one who needed him for something. Right now it might just be an orgasm, but Gabe knew there was more, and thought, just maybe, Addison was starting to see that, too.