Taking the Heat (15 page)

He glanced at her, thinking that she was like that. Beautiful, with cool hidden secrets that others didn't notice. “Are you going to bid on it?”

“Ha! I'll leave that to the billionaires. I have been eyeing one of the small prints in her shop, though. I might be able to afford one of those someday. Are you into art at all?”

“I admire it, but I don't know much.”

“Me, too. I'm in awe of artists. I always wanted to be able to draw when I was young. I used to sketch all the time, but I never got any better. It's funny that you can see something perfectly in your head, but somehow your hands can't make it.”

“Right, it's like—”

“Veronica,” a man boomed from behind them.

Gabe swung around to see a distinguished-looking man in his sixties. He wore an expensive suit cut to make his paunch look a little less noticeable. The man took off his glasses to give them a quick polish, then looked everywhere except at Veronica and Gabe. “I'm leaving. I put in a bid on that mixed-media piece by the door. Text me if I'm outbid. I'll have to make a donation if I don't get it.”

“Sure,” she said. “Dad, this is Gabe MacKenzie. Gabe, this is my father, Judge Anthony Chandler.”

“Sir,” Gabe said, trying hard not to think about the virginity joke he'd made as he shook the man's hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” her father said gruffly, barely glancing at Gabe. He left without another word to Veronica. Gabe watched him stop on his way toward the door to clap hands with another man with great enthusiasm before hugging the man's wife. He wasn't gruff with everyone, it seemed.

“I hope that was painless,” she said.

“Is he pissed at you?” Gabe asked.

“Dad? No. Just eternally unimpressed.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

She shrugged. “He's a political animal and I don't have any power, and he must have decided you were too young and harmless to merit his charm. You're not one of the silverbacks.”

“Wow.”

She winced. “Sorry. That was kind of a mood killer. I'm used to him, but I'm sorry if you felt snubbed. Let's get back to the art.”

He followed her back to the wall of photos. “And your mom? Are they divorced?”

“My mom died when I was little.”

“I'm sorry,” Gabe said, feeling as though he finally got her shyness. With a dad like that and no mom around...?

“It was a long time ago,” Veronica said. “She had cancer most of my life, but I still remember all the time I spent with her. We used to watch movies in her bed. She was sick, but she never let me see her down. She used to bake cookies every Friday, and they'd still be warm when I got home from school.”

“She sounds amazing.”

“She was. That's where New York started for me. With her. She'd been once with my father and she'd been enchanted. The skyscrapers, the taxis, the street performers, Times Square and Broadway. She wanted to take me to see
Cats
when I was old enough. But she got sick again. And that was that.”

“Shit, Veronica.”

“It's okay. I got my fill of New York later. It all worked out.”

He didn't know what to say to that. It had clearly not worked out.

She smiled. “Do you feel sorry for me now? I hope so, because I'm going to try to talk you into coming over later and I'll use every advantage I have.”

He nudged her with his elbow. “And you say I'm the worst?”

“I know, right? What are your parents like?”

Compared to her dad, they were saints. “My dad runs his own business. He's always busy, always going, big personality. My mom is kick-ass. She mostly stayed home with us, but she ran our household like the commander of an army. She doesn't take crap from anyone, including my dad.”

“They sound awesome. How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

They strolled around the corner, heading toward the front room of the gallery. “Two sisters. They're both older.”

“Ha! I should have known you were the baby. You're so charming and cute.”

“Cute, huh? I think I've been downgraded.”

“Unfortunately, you're all those things. Gorgeous, cute, sweet, sexy. Leave something for the other guys, Gabe.”

He shook his head. “Is this another tactic to get into my pants? Blatant flattery?”

“It is if it's working,” she said with a grin. The grin snapped to a flat line and her eyes narrowed suddenly. Gabe followed her gaze to a man who was approaching them through the wide corridor that connected the two rooms.

“Roni!” the guy called. “It's been a long time.”

“Hi, Dillon,” she said. “It's Veronica now.” Gabe was shocked at how low her voice had gone. Not shy, really, but...cool.

“Right. Veronica. I can't believe I haven't seen you since you got back to town. You look great. Really different.”

Gabe watched as her cheeks went red. She looked away, her fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“I read your column. Amazing stuff. New York was really good for you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was a blast.”

The guy cleared his throat and then turned to Gabe to introduce himself. Gabe shook his hand but kept his introduction brief. Veronica clearly didn't like this guy.

Dillon nodded as if someone had said something. “Anyway, how's Jason? I haven't seen him since he came to town on a ski trip a few years ago. I hear he's in San Francisco now.”

“I wouldn't know,” Veronica said. She stared down at her glass again. Bit her lip. She shifted a little closer to Gabe, and he put his arm around her instinctively.

“You don't keep in touch?” Dillon asked, sounding surprised.

“Why would I?” She looked up and stared the man straight in the face, her shoulder stiffening under Gabe's hand. “He really wasn't very nice to me, was he?”

The guy frowned and lowered his voice. “Hey, that was just kid stuff,” he said. “High school. You know?”

She nodded and seemed to lose whatever emotion had straightened her spine. She shifted toward Gabe again. He pulled her to his side and squeezed her shoulder. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but not here. Not in front of this guy. Dillon seemed harmless enough, but Gabe had to fight the sudden urge to punch him in the face for no reason.

“Yeah,” she finally agreed. “It was a long time ago. Have a good night, Dillon.”

“You, too. Nice to see you again. You look great.”

Dillon nodded a goodbye to Gabe and moved back to the group he'd been standing with before. He said something to his date and the woman glanced over at Veronica in surprise.

“Are you okay?” Gabe murmured.

“I'm fine,” she said, but she didn't shift away from him and he could feel the tightness of her body.

“Let's go this way,” he said, turning her around to head back the way they'd come. He guided them toward a far corner of the temporary bar. When they got there, he took her hand.

“Hey, what's going on? Who was that guy?”

“No one,” she said. “Someone I went to school with.”

“Who's Jason? An ex-boyfriend?”

She shook her head, then drained her champagne glass. Gabe took the empty glass from her and set it on the bar, but he kept her hand in his.

“He was my stepbrother,” she finally said.

“I didn't realize you had siblings.”

“I don't. My dad remarried when I was fifteen. Only for a few years, though. It didn't work out. Jackson wasn't good enough for them. She left my dad three years later and moved back to LA.”

“Ah. So I take it you didn't get along with your stepbrother?”

“No. He was a spoiled, entitled asshole. And Dillon was his best friend, so...not someone I want to hang out with.” She shook her head and smiled. “Do you want to go? Let's just get out of here.”

“I thought your dad wanted you to watch the bids.”

She waved her hand. “He doesn't give a shit about art. He just likes showing off. Let's go.”

“Where to?”

She wrapped her fingers more securely in his and pulled him toward the front with a smile. “You could walk me home, or I could walk you home. I'm not drunk tonight, Gabe.”

He followed her outside and they turned toward their neighborhood.

God, he wanted it. Wanted to touch her again, taste her again, make her come. And this time he wanted deep inside her. He knew he could make it good for her. But maybe... “We should wait. Just a little longer. I want—”

“Gabe.” She tugged him to a stop. “I'm not a teenager. I know what I want. Do you want it, too?”

She'd been nervous at the party. Uncomfortable. But she wasn't nervous now. She looked up at him with challenge in her eyes. He backed her up until they were shadowed from the street lamps under a store awning. He pressed her back to the brick wall, but her expression didn't change. She wanted him. She was daring him.

He dipped his head to kiss her neck, and just that touch made her moan. “You never told me everything, Veronica.”

“I did,” she whispered.

“No—” he pressed another kiss to her throat, then brushed his lips over her ear “—you didn't. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be that guy who just fumbles around and hopes I've got it right.”

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “As if you'd ever be that guy.”

He smiled at the compliment. “Tell me,” he urged. He wanted to know, but he also liked her secrets. He liked the honesty of them and the glimpses of her that no one else saw.

She finally nodded. “You won't hurt me, Gabe. I... I've done things to myself. With my vibrator.” Her gaze dropped for a moment, and his heart dropped right along with it. God, he could picture her doing that. Doing to herself what no one else had done for her.

“You won't hurt me,” she repeated, her gaze slowly rising to meet his eyes again. “You don't have to be careful. I just really, really want to be fucked, Gabe. I want you to do that for me.”

Her words pushed inside him and squeezed out any reason. “Okay,” he whispered.

“My place?” she asked, tugging him back out to the street to make clear that she wasn't really asking.

“Hey, what's the rush?” he teased. “We could hang out at the party a little longer. Catch up with Dillon.”

“You're very funny. Shouldn't you be too turned on to joke?”

“I'm trying to take the edge off. It's not easy to walk like this.”

Her laughter rang out in the night, a delighted sound that made him laugh, too, despite the ache in his cock.

“Good,” she said. “I'm glad I've made it difficult. But we'd better not go back to the party. It could be awkward. I made out with Dillon once, after all. Does that make you jealous?”

He followed her across the next intersection. “Do you want it to?”

“Yes! No one's ever been jealous over me.”

“Then I can't stand the thought of that guy's hands on you. I want to knock him out. Then I want to touch you until you forget all about him.”

She grinned. “All right, but it might take a lot of touching. He's a big real-estate guy now. Really rich. A great catch.”

He caught her at the corner and leaned down to growl into her ear. “I'll fuck you until you can't remember that guy's name.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I forgot it already.”

“Good. Let's get you fucked, Dear Veronica.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Let's.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I
T
 
DIDN
'
T
 
GO
 
SMOOTHLY
,
of course. It wasn't as if Veronica's terrible streak of bad sexual luck could be broken by one glorious man. Before she'd taken two steps toward her official deflowering, her phone buzzed. She winced, offered a quick apology to Gabe and read the text from her father.

Got a text from Dillon Tettering. Says he just spoke to you. Butter him up, will you? I'm playing hardball on a new investment.

Typical.
I barely know him
, she sent back.

So get to know him. And tell me if he says anything about Blue Sky.

Sure
, she answered, then tucked her phone away without even a twinge of guilt. She cared as little about her dad's investments as he did about her life.

“Sorry,” she said to Gabe. “My dad.”

“Better now than later,” he said, and delight bubbled up inside her again.

They had to stop at the next intersection for a fire truck. It rumbled past in a cloud of exhaust on its way back to the station. One of the men waved to Gabe, and Veronica felt immediately guilty for the hand she'd wrapped around his arm. This was a small town, after all.

But Gabe didn't flinch away. He just raised a hand and they walked on as if nothing had happened. Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. She couldn't handle her dad in her head when she was trying her best to get laid.

“Do you want to go climbing this weekend?” Gabe asked once they'd reached a quieter street.

“What? No!”

He looked down at her and ignored the way she shook her head. “I saw the note on your fridge. ‘Try new things.'”

She felt a brief pang of mortification that he'd seen her stupid notes, but she shoved it aside. “I'm trying a lot of new things, in case you haven't noticed. I'll climb you. Isn't that enough bravery for now?”

“Aw, come on. That'll be easy.”

“Not that easy. I've seen your cock.” Her face flamed at her own words, but she loved saying them, and she loved his pleased grin.

“More flattery, Veronica?”

“I'm just trying to close this deal,” she said.

“All right. Then say you'll come climbing with me. Nothing too hard. You can trust me. I'll keep you safe.”

The strange thing was that she did trust him. She had from nearly the first moment she'd met him. He'd been talking only about climbing, but there was something honest about Gabe. Something safe.

She liked to think that her ability to be herself with him was because she was getting older and stronger, but she couldn't imagine being this honest with another man. She knew Gabe would take care of her in bed. She knew he wouldn't tell anyone her secrets. She knew she was seeing the real him when they were together.

She felt like herself with him, the person she'd always hoped was somewhere inside her.

“Why do you want me to climb with you?” she asked, genuinely curious, even if she wasn't tempted.

“I think you'll like it. It's quiet. Peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she muttered. Maybe they had different meanings for the word.

“And to be honest—” he sneaked a look at her and she nudged his side to get him to continue “—I like teaching you things.”

Now she was the one sneaking a look at him. She watched him, but he kept his face straight ahead, revealing nothing. “Are you talking about sex?”

He coughed a little as if he was clearing his throat. “Only if that's not weird.”

She didn't know if it was weird or not, but she felt a hard shock of arousal at the thought. He'd whispered such wicked things to her. He'd guided her so carefully. Oh, God, just the thought turned her on so much.

“I liked that,” she admitted, trying to get her voice above a whisper and failing.

“Jesus, you turn me on,” he said quietly.

It all felt impossible to her. Wonderful and impossible. He didn't care if she was awkward. He laughed when she was weird. And his body made her mouth water. It was too good to be true and she didn't give a damn.

She slid her hand down his muscled forearm and wrapped her fingers into his. “Maybe,” she said as they walked down her quiet street.

“Maybe what?” he asked.

“Maybe I'll let you teach me how to climb.”

They didn't speak after that. The walk to her apartment was quiet. She rubbed her thumb over the edge of his finger, feeling the way his skin was rougher than hers, toughened by climbing.

It felt strange to know that they were going to have sex. All her previous dates had been countdowns that had hurtled faster and faster toward doubt and anxiety. But this time she calmly unlocked her apartment door and let him in. She didn't wonder. She knew. And while she couldn't help the nervousness that sizzled through her, she didn't have any doubt.

She took off her heels and suddenly he was so much bigger than her. When he bent his head to meet her eyes, his face was shadowed. His hair fell forward. She felt as if she were the only person in his whole world as she rose up to kiss him.

She'd wanted to touch him all night and now she could. She stroked her fingers down his beard, down his throat, around to the back of his neck, into his hair. She dragged her mouth from his and followed the path of her hand, rubbing her lips along his soft beard and then breathing deeply as she kissed the crook of his neck.

“You smell so good, Gabe. Your skin smells like sex to me now.” Her fingers caught the top button of his shirt. “I want all of it.”

His head fell back when she licked his neck. She bit him, scraping her teeth over his skin, then laughed in triumph at the groan that vibrated against her mouth.

She went willingly when he backed her toward her bedroom, but she didn't give up her quest for more of his skin. She plucked each button free, then sighed in relief when she could slide both her hands into his open shirt. Her nerves flamed with the warmth of him under her palms, the soft feel of his chest hair, the hard pebbles of his nipples.

He pulled his shirt free of his pants once they were next to the bed, but she stopped him. “I want to undress you.”

Nodding, he let his hands drop and watched as she freed the last button. His crisp shirt fell open and she slid her hands around his bare waist, marveling at how lean he was, how perfect. “You really are beautiful,” she breathed against his collarbone just before she licked it. She felt the texture roughen beneath her tongue as goose bumps chased over his skin. She pulled back to watch his nipples pebble with the sensation.

She circled one with her thumb, surprised when he shivered. “Does that feel good to you, too?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” She ducked her head and traced it with her tongue. That didn't get the response she wanted, so she gently bit it. Gabe grunted.

“This is fun,” she breathed.

“You're torturing me,” he rasped. When she laughed, he took her wrist in a hard grip and moved it down to the front of his pants. They both groaned when she curved her hand over the hard bulge of his cock.

“I love that I can do this to you, Gabe.”

“Just thinking about you gets me hard as a rock,” he said, the words so rough it felt as though she could feel them against her. “I jerked off to you this morning.”

“Did you?” she asked in shock, stroking up and down the fabric that covered him. “Really?”

“Yes. In the shower. I thought of you coming against my mouth again. And then I imagined coming in yours.”

She was breathing hard now, remembering his hand on his cock, remembering his belly covered in come. “Do you want to do that?”

“Yes. But not tonight. Tonight I want to fuck you.”

God, she felt dizzy with lust, as if all her blood had sunk deep inside her where her pulse beat hard between her legs. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor, then set to work on his belt. As soon as she'd unzipped him, she wanted to tug his boxer briefs down and watch his cock rise free, but she made her greedy hands wait. She slid her hands around him and eased his pants down his hips. Then she slipped her fingers beneath his briefs and spread her fingers over the hard muscles of his ass.

“Please,” he rasped. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” she teased.

In response, he pulled her tight against his hips and pushed against her with a groan. “Touch my cock. I want to feel your hand around it.”

She dug her nails into his ass as he rocked against her. “Okay,” she panted. “Yes.”

Pushing her hands farther down, she dragged his underwear off and his cock was free. He felt hard as steel in her hand, and so hot and silky and
good
. She squeezed him as he groaned in relief.

“God, yes,” he sighed as he ducked his head and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues rubbed together. His fingers closed over hers and he stroked himself with her hand, his cock pushing against her, fucking her fist. She took his tongue deeper, pressing up to his mouth, wanting everything.

She felt wild. Desperate. Dirty. Everything she'd always wanted to feel. She tipped her head back to draw a breath, but she couldn't get enough air into her lungs. “Fuck me,” she gasped.

“Yes.” He stripped the rest of the way down and then turned her around to face the bed.

Now
, she thought at the sound of her zipper. His knuckles brushed her spine until they stopped at the top of her ass.
Now.

Her dress fell and pooled around her feet. Then her bra. His hands framed her ribs; his mouth brushed her shoulder. He pulled her against him and his cock was a hot brand against her back.

Veronica closed her eyes and sighed at the pleasure. The heat of him. The rough drag of his calloused hands against her bare skin.

He sucked at the curve of her neck and his hands were suddenly at her breasts, his fingers plucking at her nipples, twisting pleasure into her that somehow wound around her pussy and squeezed it tight.

She breathed his name, so new to her but so comforting. As if she knew him. As if her body knew him.

The calloused tips of his fingers drifted down her belly and sneaked beneath her panties. She'd worn black lace for him tonight, dressing just for this moment, and she watched his hand slide beneath the wisp of fabric.

Her clit felt tight and tense before he even touched it. When his fingers found her, her whole body jerked in shock.

“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me touch you.”

“Yes,” she said eagerly, loving the way his fingers slipped into her wetness. His mouth sucked at her neck, and his hands worked her, one at her breast, the other stroking along her pussy. He teased her for a long while, brushing her clit only occasionally as he stroked, but then he finally centered there, drawing small circles of pleasure into her.

Even above all that, she could still feel his cock. It pressed rhythmically against the small of her back, his own wetness letting him slide against her skin. God, she wanted to taste that again, wanted the salty slippery feel of his precome on her tongue. His cock wanted inside her. It wanted to slide into her. Fill her up. She pictured that and the pleasure pressed harder against her clit, pushing toward his fingers.

“Yes,” she murmured. She dug her nails into his wrist, trying to press his hand harder to her.

“Does that feel good, Veronica?” he whispered.

“Yessss.”

“Mmm.” He slid his hand deeper into her panties, and suddenly his finger was inside her, stretching her open.

“Oh, God,” she sobbed.

“Are you ready to fuck?” he asked. “Are you squirming for it?”

“Yes.”

His finger slid out and he was teasing her clit again, and now she really was squirming, pushing back into his cock, trying her best to torture him the way he was torturing her.

“Or do you want to come first?” he asked, rubbing more firmly into the terrible, wonderful tightness of her clit.

“Yes,” she answered immediately. “Yes, I want that. Please. I want to come.” She was so close. So close. If she could just stop thinking. If she could just relax. It was right there.

His fingers left her, sliding free of her panties. She felt the cool wetness of her own arousal on her stomach. “Wait,” she begged.

“Shh,” he said again. He slid her panties down, then cupped one of her ass cheeks in his hand. “God, you've got a gorgeous ass,” he said.

If she hadn't been so frustrated, she would have been thrilled with his words, but they seemed trivial at the moment. Who cared what he thought of her ass? She wanted him focused on her clit.

“Gabe,” she growled.

He laughed a little, and she was shocked by how angry it made her.

“Frustrated?” he asked as he turned her to face him.

She wiped the arrogance off his face by wrapping her hand around his cock. “Make me come,” she said, feeling greedy for it now that she knew he could.

“I will. When you're ready.” His narrowed eyes looked dangerous now, glinting with lust and power as he looked at her hand around his cock.

“Make me come,” she ordered again.

“Not until I'm deep inside you,” he growled, backing her up to the mattress.

Shocked, she felt the world tip as she fell back onto the bed. When he stepped between her knees, her legs spread for him, and she felt vulnerable, decadent, her thighs open and her panties still hanging from one ankle.

He put one knee on the bed, forcing her to move back. Then he opened a condom and knelt above her.

It hit her then, that he was big and hard and so much stronger than she was, and he was about to be inside her. Her mouth went suddenly dry. Her heart sped. She backed up a little farther as he rolled the condom down over his thick erection. All her bravado and frustration was gone.