Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (197 page)

She emerged from the bathroom a minute later, still wearing the same t-shirt but she had put on a pair of loose boxer shorts. “It’s better if I live here, until—”

“You move in with me,” he said.

Her eyes widened, just a little. She didn’t move from her spot by the television. “Yes.”

“At first, I thought I’d come up here and see if you wanted any help or maybe just some company.”

“I told you I have lots of company—except tonight,” she said, her gaze skittering away. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.

He took the opportunity to continue, and ignore her little jab. “But on second thought, I think you were right. We
do
need a timeframe. In fact, I was thinking of speeding things up.”

“Do you?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“Yes.” He patted the seat beside him. “Why don’t you come sit over here? I’d rather not yell our plans.”

Stiffly, Summer marched to him, and he hid a smile. She sat on the opposite side of the sofa, so far away that she might as well be in the bedroom.

“How much longer?” she asked.

He scooted closer to her. “Maybe next week or two?”

“I don’t want to wait another week.”

“You at least need to meet my family first. Can you wait until after this weekend?”

“Maybe.” She shoved a pillow between them.

Undeterred, he scooted even closer, tossing the pillow on the floor.

“It’s going to get dirty,” she cried, starting for it, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“The pillow is fine, and knowing you the way I do, we could eat off the floor and not get sick.”

“Guess clean freak and town whore doesn’t mash very well, does it?” Summer said, but there was less of a bite to her words. She settled against the couch again, and he unhanded her.

“For a town whore, you do a really crappy job at entertaining men.”

Summer finally turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“Honey, you’ve been gone more than you’ve actually lived here, and if you’d really been servicing all the men that you have been accused of sleeping with, or bragged about being with you, for that matter, then you’d still be on your back. It’s not mathematically possible.”

For a moment, she gaped at him, and he knew in his heart she wanted to laugh, or punch him in the throat. Maybe at the same time. He’d welcome either if it meant she would smile, if it meant she could erase today.

She did neither. “You were always good at math.”

“You were, too.”

“I was o
utstanding
at math,” she said.

“Chemistry, too,” he said. “I know you’ve always made me feel like I could spontaneously combust, even if it’s not possible without an accelerant.”

“Maybe I’m the accelerant.” Her lashes lowered, and then she peered up at him, giving him a look so hot that he did indeed believe she was the accelerant. She lifted her chin, leaning into him. Their breath mingled. He felt her hand touch the outer edge of his, then one of her fingers caressed his, and he almost moaned.

“Summer,” he said hoarsely.

She brought his hand up to her mouth, kissing the center, and then nibbling her way across his knuckles. “In biology, I learned that a man has more nerve endings in his hand than a woman.” She sucked a finger into her mouth and nipped at the tip.

Sensation flooded his body, straight from the tip of his finger to his dick. His cock swelled. He couldn’t help it, nor did he try to hide it.

“Is that true?” she asked around that very lucky digit.

“Feels like it.” He fought for control when she took another finger into her mouth, sucking it down to where it joined to the last knuckle. He could only imagine what that would feel like in other places. Another rush of lust jolted him.
“Please.”

“Are you begging me to show you what I do with all those gentleman callers?” she asked, and he was too turned on to take exception.

But a flash of clarity assured him that no matter how he answered it would be wrong, so he pulled her to him, straight into his lap, and lifted her chin. Then he kissed the daylights out of her.

But was either of them content with that? Not in the least.

Summer straddled his lap, putting his hands on her butt. He cupped her there, groaning at the feel of her firm, plump flesh. Then she moved, rocked her hips in such a way that his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“What are you—?”

She silenced him with a kiss, still rocking her hips against the length of him, and dug her fingers into his shoulder. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“As good as it did the last time you did this,” he said, somehow remembering them as teenagers, parked in his truck, with her riding his lap for all she was worth. Neither of them had taken off the last of their clothes, but they’d come pretty close. They’d come pretty close to giving everything to each other.

“I’m much better now,” she said throatily. “All that practice, you know.”

If she wanted to lie, then so could he. “Me, too. Can’t tell you how many women I’ve let ride me like this. They’ve always gone home happy, too,” he said, helping her move now. He gripped her ass, pulling down and pushing against her. Every glide made him hotter, flamed the lust and desire that he’d been holding in check for as long as he could remember.

“I don’t have on a bra this time,” she gasped.

He nipped her lip. “I noticed.”

“You did not.” She nipped his in return. “You’re too much of a gentleman to look that close.”

“I’m up close and personal now.”

“If I promise to keep moving, would you want to touch me t—”

His hands were up her shirt before she could finish her sentence, eyes closing in pure pleasure. She filled his hands, her nipples beading against his palms.

“Oh God. That’s perfect. You’re perfect,” he whispered. She rocked harder, making his eyes open and his breath grow ragged. “We have to stop.”

“But I thought you wanted to be entertained,” she said, lips brushing his ear. “I thought you wanted to make me as happy as all those women you let ride you like this.”

Fabric slid against fabric, the thin material of her pajama bottoms and his khaki pants making it possible for him to feel everything. He flicked her nipple with the pad of his thumb in response, and she made a little noise.

“Like that?”

“Do it again, and I’ll tell you.”

The couch began to squeak with their efforts, and her breasts started to bounce. He flicked her nipples with his thumbs, one at a time, while maintaining an iron grip on his control. No way would she make him come in his pants like some teenager… like she had when they
were
teenagers.

She ground down harder against him, and her head fell back. Unable to stop himself, he shoved up her shirt, licked her nipple, and then sucked it deep inside his mouth, watching her.

Summer’s face flushed, her lids lowered, and her lips parted. He had never seen such a beautiful sight. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, teasing the tops of his hands. The silky strands caressed his face.

“Soft, so soft,” he murmured.

He sucked harder, used his teeth, and then did the same to the other one, more than satisfied when she ordered him to do it again. Then he grabbed her waist and shoved up, sending his cock in direct contact with her heat. He wanted her. He wanted inside her. He wanted to take her and take her, and never let her go. He wanted to be the last man she ever kissed—the last man she ever made love to.

Quite simply, he loved Summer Holland and would always love her.

“Gabriel,” she cried, and he went over the edge with her.

SUMMER STOPPED ROCKING, unable to comprehend what they’d just done. Unable to believe what he allowed her to do to him.

Her own orgasm had been hard and fast, twisting up her body until it had finally let her go while his…Oh, God.

Reality had returned, and she wanted to die.

Gabriel blinked up at her, his dark blue eyes still glazed over, but when they cleared, he was going to be pissed at her. He was going to say to hell with her plans, and go on about his way. She’d practically had sex with him, on a couch, in front of the windows where anyone could have walked by, and they sure as heck weren’t married, much less engaged.

What would people think of him, if they were caught?

Sure, it was almost eleven now, and the streets were deserted, but it would be just her luck that some busybody would see them. She could stand gossip about herself, but the man who held her—never.

“I’m sorry.” His gaze lowered, as did hers, right to the wet spot on his pants. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and her gaze flicked up to his face. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

She watched his cheeks grow red. “I’ll get you a towel,” she said lamely.

“I need a shower, and possibly your washer and dryer,” he said with a chuckle.

For some reason, his laugh made her want to cry. Why was he making a joke? She shoved away from him, but he caught both of her wrists in his hands.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t run off like you’re ashamed of what happened.”

“I am ashamed.”

He shook his head. “I lost control, not you. I made the choice.”

“But you were waiting, and I…”

He gave her a lopsided smile, the dimple in his left cheek making her heart flip. He let go of one wrist and brushed back the hair at her brow. “I’m still waiting. Tonight proves one thing, though.”

She licked her lips. “What’s that?”

“We’re getting married as soon as the ink dries on the marriage license.”

Summer could only nod her agreement.

“Now, about that towel?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, but she still hadn’t moved.

He let go of her other wrists and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her to him. “Kiss before you go?”

She kissed him tenderly, wishing she could see herself as he did, or how he pretended to see her. She opened her eyes, staring at her reflection in the window. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t pretend at all.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SATURDAY EVENING, Gabriel took Summer to his parents’ house for the first time, and he was nervous, so nervous it was like he was the one meeting the parents and not her.

He wanted his parents to like her, and he wanted Summer to like them. Growing up, Summer never really got to meet his parents like this. She’d always turned down his invitations to dinners, while he was never invited to Strawberry Grove.

Besides, he wasn’t on the best of terms with her mother, after the hospital incident, though she’d left a long time ago and had never come back.

So, it was as if they were each other’s dirty little secret, without all the secrecy or the implied sex. Lately sex had been occupying his mind more and more often, not that it didn’t inhabit his brain at all times, because it did. Just… his brain knew what would happen soon, so his body was getting all on board and making it hard for him to sleep at night.

He really wished that pun didn’t exist. If Summer knew what he was thinking, she’d either laugh in his face or—he frowned—he wasn’t sure what else she would do. Unless she planned a repeat of Thursday night. Now that, he could go along with.

The perfume she’d worn on each of their dates stole over him as he parked his truck in the driveway. “Is that a new perfume?”

Big, brown eyes met his. “No. I stopped wearing perfume not long after I had Ivy. The scent of it made me… sad.”

“Post-partum depression?” he ventured.

Her gaze fixed on a spot over his shoulder. “Darius liked for me to wear perfume. He liked to buy the samplers from Victoria’s Secret so we could pick out the ones we liked the most without spending a fortune.”

He covered her small hand with his. “You didn’t talk much about him when you were pregnant.”

She shrugged. “What was I supposed to say?”

“Whatever you wanted. It wouldn’t have bothered me, unless he didn’t treat you right.” Gabriel couldn’t be jealous of a dead man, of a soldier who’d fought so Gabriel could sit in an American-made truck, in the middle of his parents’ driveway, on a Saturday night, with the woman who made his heart pound against his chest.

“He treated me right.” She bent her head. “He was kind to me, and I think he loved me, unless I was imagining things.”

“That’s not hard to imagine at all.”

She made a noise of disbelief. “Don’t make me call you a liar, angel. I am
not
easy to love.”

Gabriel hooked a finger under her chin and applied gentle pressure, until their gazes locked. “Who said love was easy? If it were, then we wouldn’t have entire passages in the Bible about it. We wouldn’t be instructed to love our neighbors, or our enemies. A man is commanded to love his wife multiple times.” He made himself stop talking, because he knew how she still viewed him, how she thought he was this holier-than-thou type, and he didn’t want to ruin this date. He wanted them united when they went inside to meet his family.

“But I’m not patient, or kind, or selfless,” she said softly.

“The girl I knew was, and the woman who gave up her daughter, because she knew she couldn’t take care of her, is incredibly selfless,” he said sincerely. “The woman, who, right now, is putting up with Jemma Leigh dressing her up like some life-sized Barbie doll, because she doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, is very kind.”

“I like how Jemma Leigh’s dressing me.”

He grinned. “I
really
appreciate how she’s dressing you.”

“Why, because I look decent for once?” she snapped, and then winced a little. “Sorry.”

In answer, he kissed her. “Nonsense. Utter. Nonsense.”

“Gabriel,” she whispered, right before she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down.

Behind his eyelids, sparks of light exploded. Desire wound through him, stoking embers of lust that grew hotter. For so long, he’d been waiting for her, waiting to be able to kiss her just because, touch her because she was near and welcomed it.