Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Read online

  Sunny smiled. “He doesn’t know Sunny Black.”

  Gavin laughed. “You’ve got a point.”

  “So…” She pulled back slightly and glanced away. “Does that mean…?”

  Gavin held her chin and turned her head, forcing her to look at him. His dark blue gaze, filled with heat and desire, settled on her mouth. A breath passed between them before he dipped his head and kissed her softly. Drawing back just enough to speak, he asked, “Sex on the beach?”

  Chapter Ten

  Not wanting to give him time to change his mind, Sunny grabbed Gavin’s hand and sprinted toward the bedroom. “I don't want to chance Robby walking in on us. Normally, he isn't home until late afternoon. But since he has a test today, I don't know how long he'll be.”

  As she reached her bedroom doorway a neon sign flashed in her mind: CONDOMS.

  She stopped and pivoted on her heel so abruptly Gavin didn’t have time to stop and they collided. Before she toppled over backward, Gavin wrapped an arm around her waist and steadied her. “Change your mind?”

  “Oh, hell no.” The press of his body against hers added to her desperation, and nothing would stop her from having Gavin this time. She slipped out of his arms and backtracked to Robby's room. “Be right back.”

  Even though she’d never searched his room for condoms, she was confident… well, hopeful, he had a stash. Protection was something she'd preached relentlessly, and she had to believe he'd be prepared in the event he got lucky. Who would have believed she’d be looking for one in the event she got lucky.

  She rummaged through his bedside table and found an unopened box. Well, crap, so much for sneaking one. Or two. She thought it over for a second, then grabbed the entire box and ran back to her bedroom. Hopefully, she could replace the box before he realized it was missing.

  Gavin was standing next to her bed, waiting for her to return. At the sight of her holding the box in the air like a running back that just scored the winning touchdown, Gavin broke into laughter that echoed off the walls of her small room.

  She knew he wasn’t laughing at her, but she still felt the need to defend her aggressiveness. “I don’t seduce men I meet in the bar. Ever.”

  His laughter faded into a soft, warm smile, and he nodded once. “I believe you.”

  As she drew closer, she slowed her pace and considered how different her bedroom looked with Gavin filling a chunk of the space. The large chest-of-drawers she’d always considered too big for the small room seemed to shrink to the size of an end table. Since the double bed didn’t have a headboard, or a footboard, she always thought it looked smaller than an average bed, but today, it looked like a cot.

  She’d never put much thought into the room’s furnishings, viewing it like the other furniture in her house—function over appearance. Now, she wished her room had more life and pizzazz and definitely something to make it more romantic.

  But with Gavin looking at her through the thick fringe of his lashes, heat and desire evident in his hooded expression, she supposed it didn’t really matter what the room and furnishings looked like.

  “I’ve never met anyone who’s affected me the way you do.” Her nerves were getting the better of her, making her ramble. And her heart was planting itself on her sleeve, in wide-open view. “What little bit I slept last night, I dreamt of you. The rest of the time, I tossed and turned, thinking about you.” She shrugged. “I guess you’re too hot to be forgotten.”

  He grinned and dropped his head, appearing embarrassed by the compliment. When he lifted his gaze from the floor, his eyes were heavy lidded and filled with a hunger that made her tremble.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Feel that?” It was impossible to miss the prominent erection pressing into her stomach, but he rocked his hips into her for emphasis.

  He brushed a wisp of hair from her face and dropped his forehead to hers. “That’s what you do to me. I’m like an out-of-control teenager. In the shower this morning, I imagined you were there with me.” He nipped at her ear, then nibbled a path down her neck. “It was your hands on me… stroking me.”

  His words and the mental image of him pleasuring himself snapped the last thread of her control. Enough talking about what they did to each other mentally, it was time to get busy physically. She pushed him backward until his legs hit the bed. Playing along, he toppled over and landed spread eagle across the mattress. His long, muscular body stretched taut, and his gaze grew hotter as he watched and waited for her to make the next move.

  All this prime hunk of man… where to start… where to start…

  She dropped the box of condoms on the bed, then crawled next to him. She felt like a cat, filled with the urge to rub up against him, while kneading his flesh with her short nails. She straddled his thighs and aligned her sex with the hard ridge of his erection.

  He closed his eyes and sank his teeth into his lower lip as a groan vibrated up from his chest. A sharp, hard thrust of his hips had her whispering, “Oh, God,” as she let her head fall back and rode the sensations rolling through her body.

  More. She wanted more. But she also wanted to take things slowly and make this last. She ran her palms up his sides, feeling the ridges of muscle and rib as she made the journey. When she reached his neck, she stretched out on top of him and drew in a deep breath. “You smell good.”

  She rested her palms on his pecs, lifted her weight from his chest, and ground her sex against his, riding him as if they were already joined. “And you feel amazing.”

  An unintelligible grunt passed his lips, and she smiled. Rendering a man incapable of speech was heady stuff. Standard missionary position had never given her this kind of sexual confidence or prowess, and she liked the accompanying surge of power.

  She slid his tie through her fingers, enjoying the soft, sensual feel of the silk. Carefully, she loosened the knot, then wrapped the fabric around her fist and pulled it free of his shirt. “Hmmm… This might come in handy later.”

  His eyes flared in anticipation, and he slipped his hands under the hem of her tank top. “Stop that,” she said, smacking at his hands as she sat up and slid back out of reach. “I can't concentrate with you touching me.”

  He grinned and let his arms fall to the bed. “Yes, ma'am.” His gaze settled on her breasts. “You aren't wearing your necklace.” The raw edge to his voice and the intermittent, seemingly involuntary thrust of his hips further bolstered her courage.

  “No,” she said, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “I only wear them at night.”

  His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “Why haven’t you pierced your nipples?”

  She drew in on herself and shuddered. “Just the thought of it makes me light-headed. I'm a huge wimp. No way could I handle that.”

  “You have a tattoo,” he said, glancing at her wrist.

  “There’s a big difference between a tattoo and piercing. Especially a nipple piercing.” She bit her lip and grinned. “Plus, I had a tattoo artist friend who overlooked the competent and coherent thing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had the guts for the tattoo either.” She stopped struggling with the buttons with a huff. “I give up. You need to undo these or I’m going to get frustrated and rip your shirt off.”

  While he undid the buttons, she thought about her necklaces. He obviously liked them, and she liked the way they felt. Deciding to put one on while he finished unbuttoning his shirt, she shifted her weight, preparing to slide off him.

  He grabbed her thighs and held her in place. “Where are you going?”

  “To put on a necklace.”

  He shook his head and brushed a wild tendril of hair from her face. “Later. I don’t want you going anywhere right now.” He crooked his finger, and as strong and independent as she was, it never occurred to her to refuse the command. He wrapped his large hand around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his. It took a matter of seconds for her to learn that being on top didn’t give her all the power. Ga
vin still controlled the kisses.

  When she’d been reduced to a quivering pile of mush, he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and pushed it up to her neck. Clips flew out of her hair, and a tangled mass of curls fell around her face and over her shoulders as he pulled the shirt off and tossed it to the side. As he rubbed the ends of her hair between his fingers, his face held such a soft, tender expression it knocked the breath from her lungs and made her heart cramp.

  Warning buzzers rang in her brain. Anytime the heart felt something, things got complicated and dangerous. That would be especially true in this case, because she didn’t really know if Gavin was friend or foe.

  But she didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to think about anything; she only wanted to feel. “Will you please get rid of your shirt? I need to feel your skin against mine.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She cocked her head to the side and eyed him suspiciously. “What’s up with all the ma’aming?”

  “You seem to enjoy being in charge, so we’re doing this your way.” He winked and the corner of his mouth lifted. “This time.”

  Sunny had only been on top once, and the whole experience had lasted two minutes, maybe less. Her high school boyfriend hadn’t been the King of Stamina, or originality. Since him… more of the same, but with different names.

  Being a professional dominatrix would never be in her future, but controlling Gavin turned her on in a major way. The wicked thought was followed by the urge to hide her face so he couldn’t read her mind. Even though the inclination to look away was strong, she forced herself to meet his gaze and in a stern voice commanded, “Take that shirt off. Now.”

  His eyes fired and his nostrils flared. “Can’t wait for my turn to be in charge…”

  A thousand butterflies took flight in her stomach, and a tremble wracked her body. Keeping herself in the present moment, she scooted further down on his legs and began loosening his belt buckle.

  Her efforts were derailed when he slowly and deliberately slipped his shirt buttons free, then sat up just enough to slide the shirt off his shoulders. Damn. His incredible abs and the sprinkling of dark hair covering his chest snagged her attention, and she quickly abandoned the belt in favor of a new toy.

  Fascinated by the texture of his skin and the hard muscle beneath, she smoothed her palms over the ridges of his stomach, then moved on to the soft and gently curling chest hair.

  He lay back to unfasten his pants, but when she tweaked his nipple, he hissed and his fingers froze on the button of his slacks. He flipped his gaze to hers and said, “You get rid of your shorts, I’ll get rid of my pants, and we’ll get where we want to go a whole hell of a lot faster.”

  Ten seconds later, he was in boxer briefs, lying on the bed with his arms by his sides, patiently awaiting her next command. If not for the rapid pounding of his heart and the harsh rise and fall of his chest, she would have taken his stillness for disinterest. But he wasn’t unaffected, and she realized he was actually expending a lot of energy to remain still and impassive.

  She’d taken her panties off with her shorts and wondered why he hadn’t removed his underwear with his slacks. But as she sat next to him, completely naked, she appreciated the building anticipation and tension. With trembling fingers, she slowly pulled the waistband down.

  His cock sprang free and a single drop of moisture glistened at the tip, beckoning her to lick it away. Her mouth watered, and she slicked her tongue over her lower lip.

  As she lowered her head, his eyes turned to midnight, and he gave a short, hard shake of his head. “No. You put your mouth on me, I'll shoot off in less than thirty seconds. I'm too far gone.”

  Staying in dominatrix mode, she worked up a stern face and said, “I thought I was in charge.”

  “You are.” He wrapped his hand around her calf and slowly massaged his way northward. “But if you want to keep me in the game, you’ll keep your mouth above the waist.” He grinned. “Above the neck would probably be best.” With a quick, playful slap on the ass, he added, “For now, anyway.”

  She definitely wanted to keep him in the game. “Okay, we’ll do things your way this time. But later…”

  Would they have a later? And why was she speaking in terms of later and this time when this was supposed to be a one-time thing?

  Unwilling to spoil the moment, she grabbed the box of condoms and ripped it open. She took one out, looked at it, then handed it to him. “I want to watch you put this on.”

  She never would have believed watching a man touch himself would be such a turn-on. But by the time he’d lost the boxer briefs and finished rolling the condom into place, she was nearly frantic. Hovering over him, she slowly lowered herself until the tip of him met her soaking wet sex. The plan had been to taunt and tease and prolong the anticipation until he reached a fever pitch that matched hers. But her control disintegrated, and she couldn't wait another second.

  She cried out from an overload of sensations as she dropped onto him in one fluid motion. He was larger—and she was tighter—than she'd anticipated. She froze, allowing her body to adjust to his size and giving her neurons a chance to catch up with the feelings attacking her body from the inside out.

  “Okay?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he studied her face.

  “Oh, yeah.” She rose until he'd almost slipped free, then slowly slid down again.

  He allowed her to control the depth and pace, but no longer remained impassive. He massaged her breasts with large, capable—Good God—talented fingers and hands. As she increased the pace of her rise and fall, he increased the pressure on her nipples, first rolling, then pinching them between his thumbs and fingers. The sensation was similar, only better, to that of her necklaces, and a firestorm sparked in her belly.

  She leaned forward and rested her palms on his chest. The change in position created a delicious friction against her clit, and in a matter of seconds, she was spiraling out of control.

  He closed his eyes, ground his teeth together, and drew in deep, harsh breaths. When he opened his eyes again, they were the color of summer storm clouds. “This isn’t going to last much longer. You feel too damned good.”

  He dropped a hand to her clit while the other lavished her breast with attention. Within seconds, the simmering heat in her abdomen erupted into an inferno, and she screamed as an explosion of energy blasted through every cell of her body. Right there with her, he rammed into her one last time, then rode the waves of his orgasm.

  Struggling to breathe in short, jerky gasps, she collapsed onto his chest as the microbursts continued. Strong, protective arms wrapped tightly around her, and soft, gentle kisses fell on her head. It seemed like hours passed before her breathing and heart rate returned to normal and her bone density returned.

  Nodding to the closed door on the right side of the room, he asked, “Is that the bathroom?”

  “Yeah.” She summoned the strength to roll off him and landed on the mattress with a thud. “Towels and washcloths are in the wicker rack on the wall. Help yourself to whatever you need.”

  A moment later, he returned with a washcloth and towel. “Spread 'em, sweetheart.” His eyes gleamed with humor, but his tone was kind and his actions gentle.

  As he carefully wiped her clean, then patted her dry, a lump of emotion formed in her chest and rose to her throat. No one had ever taken care of her after sex. Hell, no one had ever taken care of her in any situation, and his thoughtfulness touched her deeply.

  She swatted the gushy feelings away like a pesky mosquito. Dammit, she couldn't make more of this than it was. It was sex. Plain and simple. Nothing more.

  While her head understood the rules of engagement, her heart didn’t seem to grasp the danger. She and her heart would need to have a serious talk about this later.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gavin wrapped the washcloth in the towel and laid them in the sink before returning to Sunny's bed. Wanting to extend what he considered
a perfect moment for as long as possible, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  Snuggled with Sunny, listening to the waves rolling on shore, was the most tranquil environment he could imagine. But his thoughts were unsettled and whirled like the ceiling fan overhead. He should crawl out of the bed, explain what a terrible mistake this had been—even though he didn't believe it—and haul ass back to Myrtle Beach.

  Instead, he rested his cheek on top of her head and drew in a deep breath. The smell of her strawberry shampoo reminded him of her suckers, and a smile tugged at his mouth. How could a woman be so sexy and adorably cute at the same time?

  He laced his fingers through hers and massaged her palm with the pad of his thumb. Her breath fanned across his chest as she softly sighed. The pleasure he took from doing something for her, even something as simple as massaging her hand, was enormous.

  And ridiculous.

  And scary as shit.

  He thought he was in trouble before. Now, he knew it. Every moment spent with her was like quicksand, pulling him in deeper and deeper. And yet, here he lay, allowing himself to be swallowed whole.

  He rubbed the calluses on her hands—proof of the hard work she put into renovating the building. And the equally hard work required to maintain the building, as well as run the bar on a daily basis.

  Without knowing her history, he couldn’t say for sure, but he suspected they were more alike than their current circumstances indicated. As a boy, he spent a lot of hot, hard, seemingly endless days working on his grandfather’s farm. Crazy as it sounded, sometimes he missed the physical labor and the satisfaction that came from building something from nothing. He regularly worked out in his home gym and enjoyed the exertion, but that wasn’t the same as using his body to fulfill a purpose.

  He studied the tattoo wrapped around her wrist. “My Latin is rusty. What does your tat say?”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled. “Never give up.”