Page 74 of Top Shelf
He laughs. “Oh, love, I’ll show you big.”
I don’t know how he does it, but suddenly my wrists are captured in one hand, and he holds them behind my back, pressing my tits up against his chest. He drives his hips into me, and there’s no denying just how much he’s enjoying me wiggling against him. Truthfully, I like it too. We’re no longerlaughing and messing around, the air charged with palpable sexual tension.
He runs his nose along my neck. “I could fuck you like this, you know. Holding your hands behind your back while you ride my cock.”
I rub my thighs together, wanting just that.
“Or maybe I’ll bend you over again, take you from behind until you’re screaming my name.”
I whimper as he slides his free hand between us, his fingertips tracing along my thighs, teasing me. Always fucking teasing me.
“Play with that sweet little hole of yours I caught a glimpse of last night.”
A shiver races through me, my mind chanting,Yes, yes, yes.He cups my bare pussy, slipping a single finger between my lips, grazing over my clit that’s already pulsing.
“I could?—”
Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” blares through the room, interrupting his next thought. I groan, tossing my head back, and Gavin laughs dryly.
“Work?”
I nod. “Work.”
“Don’t suppose I could convince you to call in?” he asks.
“Not a chance.”
“Boo.” He releases me, and I miss his touch instantly. “But I understand. I need to check in with Doc anyway, get this face looked at.” He kisses the top of my head. “Rain check, then.”
Maybe it’s silly, but I’m surprised by his words. He…wants to do this again? I mean, I know he said a lot of things last night and said a few things just now, but that was just in the moment, wasn’t it? Maybe not. Maybe he meant them.
I want him to have meant them.
The thought terrifies me. Not just because I have only been divorced for six months and it feels far too soon to get tangled up in something, but because of who he is—my brother’s teammate. He’s completely off-limits.
It’s bad enough that I had a one-night stand with Gavin in New York, and even worse that I’m living with him without telling Reed. To continue sleeping with him? That’sreallybad. We shouldn’t be sneaking around like this. It’s wrong…isn’t it?
No.
I can’t tell if that’s how I really feel or just wishful thinking, so I decide not to think of it at all. I’m in Seattle for a new life, a new Vanessa, and this version of me wants not to overanalyze something she doesn’t have an answer for. She just wants to live. She just wants to have fun.
She just wants Gavin.
So, I kiss his cheek—the uninjured one—pat him on the chest, and tell him, “Rain check.”
My pencil moves across the page. It’s just a little doodle, but it’s the first one I’ve made since I saw The Video.
I first got the itch last week after we finally gave in to whatever is going on between us. We haven’t really talked about it, but we’ve certainly been enjoying it. Every night, Gavin whispers into my ear—dirty things, sweet things. It doesn’t matter; I love them all. He touches me. He tastes me. Heworshipsme. It’s heaven. It has to be. There’s no other reason for it to feel so damn good.
I’m convinced it’s why I’m sitting on the rooftop of his building with my sketchbook in hand. It’s where I’ve been planted since I washed the smell of bar off me after my shift atTop Shelf. I trade the pencil for a marker, tracing over the lines I want to be sharper and darker. While my preferred medium is painting, I figured I’d start small and getonesketch out, just to make sure I can still do it.
Once finished, I study the image, picking it apart. I need more color, for starters, and my lines could certainly use some finesse. But overall, it’s not the worst thing I’ve drawn, and it feels good to flex my dormant creative muscles. That’s got to be a win, right?
Feeling inspired, I flip the page to start something new. I start with the marker, trying to find what feels comfortable, and then I allow myself to get lost. I have no idea how long I keep my head bent over the pad, but it must be long because suddenly I hear footsteps. I whirl around to find Gavin striding toward me with a smile plastered on his face. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that look entirely too good on his long legs and a Seattle Serpents-branded shirt that stretches across his chest just a littletoowell. There’s a baseball cap spun backward on his head, and it instantly makes me want to kiss him.
“There you are.” His deep timbre that I love so much spreads warmth through me, and I can’t help but grin up at him.
“Hey,” I say, closing my sketchbook and tucking it under one of the cushions. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m nervous to show him my art, or perhaps it’s because I’m not ready to showanyoneyet. I just got it back. I kind of want to keep it to myself for a while. “You’re back.”
