She opened the door wider to let him in. “Did you bring me a present?”
Gabe laughed at her audaciousness. “Wait a minute. Are you drunk?” he asked.
She giggled as she shut the door. “Just enough to be honest.”
“Yes, I seem to remember how honest you get when you drink. But if you’re drunk...”
“I’m not! I promise.”
“Come here,” he said, reaching for her. When he leaned down to kiss her, she met his mouth with a happy eagerness that twisted his heart. She was so...bright. So sweet. Nothing like what he’d first thought of her. He bit her bottom lip, then licked at the spot he’d bitten.
“I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk,” he murmured.
She groaned, but before she could protest, he kissed her again. He wasn’t going to fuck her. He was going to make her come.
Her hands rose to grip his head, to pull him down for a deeper kiss, as if she meant to change his mind. He loved the way her tongue rubbed at his, the way her fingers gripped his hair. He was instantly hard again, instantly aching.
He eased her toward the couch. He wanted to touch her, explore her body, and the couch seemed a little more comfortable than leaning against the door. Or sitting on a boulder. He sat down and tugged her after him.
She wore a cute little red dress that rose up her thighs when she put her knees on the couch and straddled him.
“Tell me what you did today,” he said, dragging his thumbs up her inner thighs.
Her head dropped and she watched his hands. “I worked. Then I went out to dinner with my girlfriends.”
“Lauren?” he asked, drawing little circles on her skin.
“Yes.” Her breath hitched when he dragged his hands up and pushed her skirt to her hips. Her panties were black. “Lauren. And Isabelle.”
“Did you get lots of presents?”
She raised her hand to her chest. “This necklace,” she said, “and now you.”
“Very pretty,” he said, but his gaze dropped quickly back to her thighs. Her legs flexed when she shifted. He smoothed his hands over the strong muscles.
“How was your—” her breath caught when his rising hands brushed the front of her panties “—climb?”
“I’m sore, but it was great.”
“Your arms?”
“Yeah. Arms. Shoulders.”
“Take off your shirt,” she said.
He wasn’t going to say no to that. Gabe shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt.
“Mmm,” she murmured, her hands going to his shoulders. She stroked him gently, her fingers trailing from his neck down to his biceps and then back up. Every nerve in his body tingled to life at the soft touch.
Then she gripped his shoulders more firmly and dug her thumbs into the muscles near his neck. “Here?” she asked.
Gabe closed his eyes at the shock of wonderful pain. “God, yes.” She rubbed slow circles into his sore spots. He relaxed into it, letting his lips part to take in a deep breath. Her thumbs slid higher and pressed deep again. Gabe sighed.
“Is this what you look like when you fuck, Gabe?” she whispered.
His eyes popped open.
She was watching his mouth. She licked her lips. “I like talking to you after I’ve had a few drinks. I get to say the things I’m really thinking.”