Passionate Addiction (5 page)

She was temptation, and again, he was too weak to refrain.

Without thought, he cupped the back of her neck and brushed his mouth against hers, his lips tingling at the connection. He inhaled her gasp and gripped her hip, unable to keep his hand idle by his side. She was soft—her hair, her waist, her thighs—malleable with the scent of heaven and the taste of sweet alcohol. He wanted to grind into her, to feel the friction of her body against the length of his cock.

She whimpered, her hands coming to rest on his chest, clinging to his shirt. The sound startled him, pushing his libido from the control seat and allowing his mind to regain rational thinking. What the fuck was he doing? Forcing himself onto his best friend without warning, when she’d been drinking? He hadn’t spared a thought to the consequences. She wasn’t a groupie, willing and ready to fall to her knees. This was Gabi. His angel. Someone he couldn’t live without.

He pulled back, severing the connection. His hand drifted from her neck and he watched, holding his breath as her eyes slowly fluttered open, her pupils now huge and penetrating.

“I’m sorry.” He dropped his hand from her waist and stepped back. “Just my way of making tonight a little more awkward.”

A ragged breath escaped her lips. “It’s…fine.” A frown darkened her features, and she pushed from the wall, maneuvering around him to continue walking down the sidewalk.

Great, fucking great. Now he had to fix this shit. He couldn’t lose her. Not over something stupid like adolescent hormones and a trigger happy cock. If she didn’t want to take their relationship further, he could deal. What he couldn’t handle was not having her in his life. Why the hell hadn’t he waited longer than two seconds before ramming his tongue down her throat? They may have been friends for years, it didn’t change the fact that they’d only met moments earlier. Just because he felt at home with her didn’t mean she experienced the same immediate connection.

He jogged the few steps to catch up and kept his mouth shut. It was safer that way. He’d done enough to ruin her birthday already. Hopefully, if he remained quiet, he wouldn’t compound his idiocy.

They walked the remaining blocks to his hotel in silence. Each step making his chest weigh heavier with regret. When he unlocked his penthouse suite door, he turned to face her and prayed for the right words to fix the situation.

Nothing came.

He watched her raise an impatient brow before striding past, keeping as far away as possible.

***

Gabi stood before the floor to ceiling window and peered down at the streets below. She crossed her arms over her pounding chest and ignored the way her lips burned from Blake’s kiss. And, oh boy, what a kiss. The confident brush of his mouth had seared every nerve in her body, bringing her fantasies to life, and she didn’t know how the hell to move on from here.

This wasn’t how she envisioned meeting her best friend for the first time. She’d always hoped they would hit it off. That their online flirty banter would somehow transfer into real life. But she never expected uncomfortable awkwardness. She never would’ve thought she’d be cringing over sticky, now-dried lemonade covering her back, either.

Blake’s reflection gleamed back at her from the glass. The strong and confident way he strode toward her made her want to roll her eyes and groan. He was too masculine. Too strong and virile. A five-star dream brought to life, and she didn’t know how to stop the tiny shudders that wracked her body whenever she glanced his way.

When they arrived at his suite, he’d disappeared into his bedroom. She’d watched discreetly from the living room while he scrounged through his suitcase. All the while she pretended to be immersed in the lavish penthouse suite. Truth was, she hadn’t noticed a damn thing about the room. Her brain, eyes, and heart had all been focused on figuring out what he was doing and when he would come back for her to ogle.

“I’m sorry, Gabi.” He stopped behind her, making eye contact through the glass. “I didn’t mean for our first meeting to be like this.” His hands came to rest on her shoulders, and he turned her to face him. “Forgive me?”

She couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop her focus from falling to his full bottom lip as her tongue swiped out to moisten her own. His nostrils flared and she glanced away, not wanting to complicate the situation further. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” She shook her head and pasted on a smile. “I’m blown away that you’re actually here.” She stepped around him, needing to sever the potent connection.

He grasped her hand, denying her retreat, and pulled her back toward him. “I’ve got something for you.”

Her nerves tingled at his touch, and her gaze snapped to his smiling eyes, then to the rectangular jeweler’s box in his other hand. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s your birthday.”

Gabi rolled her eyes. “You flew across the
world
to see me. You didn’t have to buy—”

He opened the case and the words died on her lips. Lying atop navy velvet was a shiny turtle pendant with tribal markings covering its shell. It was attached to a thick belcher link necklace, and rested beside a silver guitar pick charm on one side and a guitar charm on the other.

“It’s…” Her mouth worked. Nothing came out. No words could express how beautiful and fitting the piece was.

“I know you love turtles, so I thought you might like it. The pick and guitar are entirely for my own ego. I don’t want you to forget me once I leave.”

Her chest swelled to the point of pain, and she knew if she glanced up to his face, she’d blubber uncontrollably. Instead, she reached for the necklace, letting the heaviness of the piece sink into her palm.

“You wear white gold, right? I didn’t screw that part up, did I?”

White. Gold.
Her lips mimed the words. Holy smokes, it must’ve cost him a fortune. She yanked her hand back and shook her head. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

She met his gaze and felt her heart stutter. He peered down at her, his face aglow with what she hoped was pride. “You saved my life,
and
you’re my best friend. Nothing is too much for you.”

She blinked rapidly, batting away the forming moisture. “If you make me cry, Blake Kennedy, I
will
hurt you.”

He chuckled and broke eye contact to focus on releasing the necklace from the clasp holding it in place. “Turn around,” he whispered.

She did as requested, her throat drying, her flesh breaking out in goose bumps while she lifted her hair for him to place the necklace around her neck. His fingers grazed her shoulders, the slightest brush making her nipples tighten. When the heavy weight of gold rested against her skin, she turned and reached for the charms now lying against her sternum.

“How does it look?” She fingered the guitar pick, feeling the smooth gold.

“Beautiful.” His voice was husky, completely seductive, and entirely not fair.

His attention was on the necklace, and she swallowed, hoping he couldn’t see her hardened nipples through her tight dress and thin lace bra.

They were so close, almost toe to toe, and all she wanted to do was kiss him. Slowly. Brushing her lips over his in a delicate caress. She wanted to show him how much she loved him. To pour her heart out in the intimate connection.

To hell with it. It was her birthday!

Reaching on tiptoes, she slid her hand over his muscled chest to his shoulders. She peered into his eyes, waiting for him to react or retreat. He didn’t, so she inched closer, his heated breath brushing her face, and pressed her mouth against his.

It wasn’t a scorching kiss, merely a soft joining of lips, and still her blood ignited, every inch of her skin burning for his touch.

His hands came to rest on her hips, lightly grasping. She yearned to moan, to voice the need building inside her, yet she remained quiet, hoping she could use the excuse of a friendly thank you kiss if he pulled away again, but his tongue stroked the seam of her lips, and she was done for.

She whimpered, clutched tighter to his shoulders, and brushed her body against him. The skin at the small of her back pulled from the dry stickiness of lemonade and she ignored it. There was nothing else in the world except the two of them. She matched the stroke of his tongue with her own, sparring, teasing, devouring. No man had ever kissed her so thoroughly, touching her from the inside out, right down to the tips of her toes.

They joined at the hips, her pelvis grinding into him, rubbing the hardness of his erection against the low of her belly. He growled, sinking his tongue deeper into her mouth. Strong hands moved to her ass, up over her waist, and paused at the side of her aching breasts. God, she wanted him to go further, to mold his hands around her flesh and tweak her nipples through the material.

Then everything stopped.

Déjà vu.

He pulled back and peered down at her. Her throat tightened while they panted heavily into each other.

Say something.

She swallowed and rested back on the soles of her feet.

Please don’t apologize and act as though nothing happened. Again.

“Gab, I don’t think I can do this and not lose my heart to you.”

His words hit her like a thousand tiny sparks of delight. She bit her lip to contain her excitement. Nothing would be more wonderful than holding the most precious part of him. “You’ve held my heart for so long, Blake, that it feels strange to have it so close.”

“Really?” His eyes searched hers.

“Really.”

He brushed the hair back from her face, trailing his thumb along her jaw. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She stepped into him, leaving no space between their bodies. “You deserve the world. I just hope I can give it to you.”

He trailed his hand down her waist and rested them at the small of her back. She cringed, her sticky skin now clinging to her dress.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to wash off the lemonade. Do you mind if I take a shower?”

“No, of course not.” He jerked his head toward what she assumed was the master bedroom. “There’s a bag of your clothes on the bed in there.”

She stiffened, causing her skin to pull. “Ah, how did you get my clothes?”
Holy shit.
If he’d broken into her apartment, she would be mortified. Not only at the breach of privacy, but there were pictures of him performing posted all over her spare bedroom.

“Not a fan of me going through your drawers?” He chuckled and raised a brow. “Tammy organized the clothes. She said she had a spare key and could sneak into your apartment while you were at school.”

The negative side of working and living in the same beachside holiday apartments with your close friend.

“Tonight was meant to be about celebrating your birthday. Meeting you for the first time, the penthouse suite, room service.”

She grinned up at him. “You planned on—”

“I had, and still have, every intention of sleeping on the sofa.” He narrowed his gaze. “So wipe that sly smile off your face.” He leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. “I didn’t plan to be unable to keep my hands off you. Strength against temptation has never been my best attribute.”

She hated when he got like this. He’d never acknowledged the determination it took to overcome his drug addiction. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a heavy user or took the initial steps to handle his problem as soon as he realized cocaine had a hold on him. Addiction was addiction. Yet Blake always thought himself weak.

“You’re the strongest man I know.” She cupped his cheek and tried to convey her sincerity with the gentle touch. He gave a derisive laugh, and she ignored it. “And I thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I couldn’t ask for a better...”
Friend
seemed inappropriate seeing as though they’d been groping each other for the last fifteen minutes.

He smirked. “The whole feverish lust and raging erection kinda puts a new spin on our friendship, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it kinda does.” Happiness overwhelmed her, making her giddy.

He moved into her, the barest hint of his stubble rubbing against her cheek, his breath brushing her ear. “You wanna see where it takes us?”

She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. That was exactly what she wanted. To break free and finally share her feelings, the bottled up desire, admiration and love. “Yes.” The word came out on a gasp.

His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending a shot of pleasure through her nipples, then straight down to pool in her sex. “Well then, go have a shower. Patience isn’t one of my virtues.”

Blake paced the kitchen as the echo from the shower taunted him. He was such a weak prick. Any form of temptation and his brain closed up shop, his actions entirely ruled by his base desires. He needed to be in there with her, washing her smooth skin, learning her curves. To show her the things he’d been fantasizing about doing to her body for over a thousand days.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped toward the door. She was humming, the barely audible noise giving him an excuse to move closer. Over the rush of water, he listened to her, the tune unfamiliar. The feminine sound called to him, every note demanding his approach, and at this moment, any excuse would do. When he reached the bathroom door, he rested his forehead against the cold wood and held back from banging against it.