On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(20)
I unleash all the pent-up frustration I have toward her cranky behavior into her mouth, slamming my tongue up against hers, scraping my own bottom lip against her teeth. The pleasure-pain is exquisite, and I groan at the first contact.
She’s stiff… just for a second, her hands hanging loosely at her side. I let it cross my mind briefly that I could be making a very big mistake, that this could be bordering on assault, but then her arms come up and she clutches my hips with her fingertips.
That spurs me on, and I tilt my head, angling for a deeper contact. She responds tenfold, sliding a sexy whimper into my mouth, and I feel myself starting to grow painfully hard.
All from a f*cking kiss.
A kiss that is just like five years ago, yet so very different. Then she was forbidden, young, innocent. It was shocking and altering, two things that fueled my lust.
Now, it’s a desire that’s fueled by years of wondering, fantasizing, and maybe even a bit of regret. It’s also a flame that has recently been fanned by anger, and let’s face it… there’s nothing hotter than being in the middle of an argument and releasing that emotion through the sexual channels.
My heart is slamming inside my chest, and my dick is aching. I want to do nothing more than take Gabby, lay her across the pool table, and f*ck the meanness out of her. I want to sink myself in her warmth, make her body mine, and when it’s done, have her look at me with something other than disdain.
But now is not the time, and it’s certainly not the place. When I take her—and I will—it’s going to be somewhere private so I can do things that might border on depraved… but will certainly wipe that smug look off her face. Just the thought has me smiling against her lips.
I bring one hand up and cup the back of her head, pushing her mouth harder against mine for just a second, taking a last swipe at her with my tongue. Then I pull back, gripping onto her hair to hold her in place.
I stare at her intently, watching her eyes, which are clouded with lust and longing. Without the power of the kiss driving us, her gaze starts to clear, and I enjoy the myriad of emotion that filters through. Desire is replaced by confusion, which is then replaced by anger.
She pushes back against my body, her hands still at my hips, but I hold tight to her hair and I don’t budge an inch.
“What the hell was that for?” she seethes.
I give her a calculated smirk, running my eyes over her face and leaning down to nip at her lower lip with my teeth. She shivers in my arms and I internally gloat, because while she acts like she’s mad, she wants me. There’s no denying it.
Pulling back slightly, I rub my nose against hers, and then say, “It was the only way to get you to shut up.”
She looks at me blankly for a moment, and then it sinks in what I just said to her. She practically screeches as she rips away from my embrace, and I quickly release my hold on her hair so she doesn’t tear a chunk of it out. Stepping back a foot, her eyes do a slow burn and her hand comes up to wipe it across her lips. It’s a calculated move… to show me that the kiss disgusted her, but she’s not fooling me. I invented that move, used it on her five years ago in fact. I know all about masking my true feelings.
Leaning against the pool table with one hip, I cross my arms across my chest and give her a lazy smile. “Don’t act affronted, Gabs. You enjoyed that just as much as I did.”
“Oooohhh,” she screeches again, and I wince at the sound. “You’re an *. If you touch me again, I swear I’ll… I’ll…”
“What?” I taunt her. “Kiss the f*ck out of me again? You wanted it… you enjoyed it. Accept it.”
“I did not,” she insists, stomping her foot. “You caught me off guard.”
Laughing at her silliness, I take a step forward, even as she takes a step back to keep distance between us. “You may not know what’s going on here, but I do. Brody enlightened me the other day.”
That gets her attention because she can’t help but ask, “What do you mean?”
I decide I’m done playing for the day. I can see she’s going to need time to process this, and I’m fully expecting to deal with a she-devil tomorrow. So I just turn around and head back out to the front of the bar, telling her over my shoulder. “Ask Brody. He’ll fill you in.”
I hear her curse behind me, dropping a few F-bombs in the process. I just laugh, and I know she can hear me because a few more choice words follow me out the door.
I don’t see Gabby the rest of the day. Shortly after our exchange, she slammed out of the bar and I heard her truck spin out of the parking lot. I asked her foreman later in the morning where she was and he said she was working at her shop, building the custom bar that would go on the outdoor deck.
There’s a small part of me that wonders if maybe I went too far, but then I remember her reaction to my kiss. She was fully in. Her tongue battled with mine, she moaned hot into my mouth, and her hips pressed in against me. She may be a master at denying her feelings, but her body has a mind of its own, and it was speaking the utter truth to me.
Something’s holding her back though. Clearly, my apology didn’t work the charms I thought it would, and I could do one of two things. I could sit her down and have a talk with her, find out what has her panties in a twist again, or I could just keep wearing her down. The thought of wearing her down seems to be the logical choice, because talking to Gabby has done nothing more than resemble the biggest of wipeouts I had while surfing the Pipeline in Oahu. Having my body dragged over sharp coral reef seems less painful than having an actual conversation with her at this point.