He takes the opportunity to rain kisses along the sensitive skin of my throat, his lips hot and damp. Nipping and sucking at my skin, his mouth blazes a trail everywhere, sending shivers cascading down my spine. I wrap one hand around the back of his neck, absorbing his warmth, his strength. My name is a whisper of breath against my skin, close to my ear, just before he bites it. I tilt my head to the side, my fingers curled into the hair at his nape, a whimper escaping me when he lifts his head and claims my mouth yet again.
I let myself drown in his taste, in his kiss. His hands wander, along my waist, over my hips, my butt, then back up again, until they’re just beneath my breasts.
Lust and fear combine, making me anxious. Will he take it further? Or stop? He knows my biggest secret—well, not my biggest secret. I hate that I’m lying to him, that he thinks I’m some shallow rich girl with daddy issues.
I might have daddy issues, but I’m definitely not a shallow rich girl. No, more like I’m a scared poor girl who’s in way over her head and perfectly willing to let this man do whatever he wants to me.
No regrets.
“Have you lost weight?” he asks after he breaks away from my still needy lips.
Pleasure ripples through me as he runs his hands back down along my waist, settling them at my hips. “Seven pounds,” I say proudly. It may not sound like much but every one of those pounds lost was a struggle. Dieting is such a bitch.
He frowns. Even growls. “That’s a damn shame.” His fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, touching bare skin. “I really, really love your curves.”
Gabe says things like that and I want to melt. His easy acceptance of my body seriously blows my mind. He seems to enjoy touching me, mapping my body with his hands and fingers, tracing every sensitive spot, pushing just enough that I always crave more. No other man has ever appreciated my curves like Gabe does.
I’m tired of denying myself of this. Of him. Isn’t he tired of it too? Or does he enjoy the torture? There is something to be said for denying yourself what you desperately want. I should know as queen of the diets. I remember going on a no carbs diet one time and all I ever did was crave chocolate cake. Like, dreamed about it and everything.
I don’t even really like chocolate cake. I’m more of a vanilla and buttercream frosting kind of girl. It was just the point that I couldn’t have it. By the third day of that diet, I was stuffing my face with a slice of decadent chocolate cake I bought at the local supermarket. I ate it for dinner.
Never went back on that carbs only diet either.
Gabe is my proverbial slice of chocolate cake. Hell, he’s the entire cake. I’m normally not a huge fan, it’s never been my usual craving, but oh wow, when I want it, I become desperate. I’ll do anything to have just one taste.
Just one.
“No more diets, Lucy,” he murmurs against my lips. His deep, sexy voice pulls me from my thoughts, reminds me that I can have another taste of my newfound craving right now. “I like you just as you are. I wish you would too.”
His words melt me further. Why is he so perfect? God, he makes me crazy. Insane. He starts to kiss me again and I lose myself in it, his hands fully beneath my shirt now, his fingers toying with the lacy edge of my bra. I pull away from him, remembering that we’re in the living room. His sister is sleeping on the couch and his parents could walk through the front door at any given moment.
“I should go,” I say, releasing a shaky breath as I glance around the room. I only brought my phone and a set of keys, both of which are on me so I can go. I should go.
But it’s like I can’t make my legs move.
He studies me, his lips swollen and damp from our kisses, his hair a mess from my fingers. He takes hold of my hand, interlacing our fingers together. It’s like he’s touching the very depths of my soul, which is totally corny right? Who thinks like that, let alone really feels like that?
Me. I do. Oh my God, I do. Gabe’s eyes are warm as they study me and he reaches out with his free hand, draws his finger up my cheek, tucking a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “Come on,” he murmurs.
When he speaks to me in that low, seductive tone, I feel all shivery inside. A feeling I want to experience again.
And again.
He gently tugs on my hand and I follow after him like I can’t do anything else, and I swear, I can’t. I don’t want to go anywhere else. I definitely don’t want to go back to that giant, lonely house and crawl into my empty, lonely bed. Whatever he wants to do, I’m up for it.
I blow out a shaky breath. Fine, I’m a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. But I’m up for it.
Totally up for it.
When he remains silent, I finally can’t take it anymore. “Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me up the stairs.
“My room.” He glances over his shoulder, his gaze direct, his intentions beyond clear. “Is that okay?”
Is it? My rational side is telling me to decline. Every other part of my body is screaming at me to say yes.
So I do.
The bedroom he brings me into is dark, the only light let in from the blinds on the window that are slightly cracked. The moon was full, it had been for days and it causes silvery lines to streak across the walls and floor. I stand completely still, glancing around as Gabe shuts the door behind us and when he turns to face me, all I can see are his eyes and his lips.
My mouth goes dry as our gazes hold. I’m immobilized, unable to say anything or make the first move. Not that I have to.