Page 239 of Her Reluctant Hero
Chapter Nine
Peyton’s blood thrummed in her ears as Gabe opened the door of the motel room. Maybe he’d just rented the room as a reward for her courage today, but if that was the truth her heart wouldn’t be pounding, her skin wouldn’t be tingling.
She wouldn’t be worrying about wearing her new panties.
What would it be like to act on all these feelings, the fear, the excitement, the lust? In her thirty-two years she’d never had a fling with a man she couldn’t imagine having a future with; maybe it was time.
Gabe smiled at her, sending off flutters in her belly, twinges of longing.
“Want to shower first?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” She ducked under his arm as he held the door for her. She pulled her hair from her wet ponytail and found herself with her back against the wall, Gabe’s arms braced on either side of her head, only the heat from his body pressing against her.
Every atom in Peyton’s body quivered in anticipation. He must have sensed it, contrary beast that he was, for he hesitated, his breath teasing her lips, shattering her nerves. She couldn’t let him know, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She took a deep breath. Big mistake. The scent of him, smoke, man and Irish Spring, intoxicated her.
Just her one moment of hesitation was enough for him to dip his head and brush his mouth tauntingly over hers. Her lips trembled open, her tongue rose to meet his. The rasp of his tongue, the way it curled about hers, made her forget he wasn’t touching her. She pressed her hands back against the wall, pretending if she didn’t touch him it would be easier to change her mind. At the same time she raised up on her toes to deepen the kiss.
Her conviction not to touch him faltered as his mouth pulled at hers, thickening her blood, eliminating everything but the two of them. She reached up to hold him, savored the sensation of his short hair tickling her palm.
He drew back slowly, drawing her lip out between his, and rested his forearm on the wall above her head. She closed her eyes against the power of those deep brown eyes that read her emotions so well, and dropped her head back against the wall.
“So you want me to take you back to camp?” he asked, his voice rough-edged.
She opened her eyes to look into his, saw a sharpness there focused on her. “No. No, I don’t want to go back to camp.”
He closed his hands around her waist to bring her against him. She gasped at the abruptness, and he took her gasp into his mouth, dipping his tongue inside, dragging it along hers. The play of his lips over hers, stretching and parting her own so his tongue could tease between them, evoked images of kisses in more intimate places.
He coursed his hands over her body, hip to shoulder, strong and determined. God, she’d forgotten how feminine a man’s hands could make her feel. Urging her legs apart, he made space for himself between them. She whimpered when he dropped his weight against her, pinning her to the wall.
Oh, she loved how he kissed her, savoring her one moment, devouring her the next. She couldn’t say which she preferred. Not knowing what to expect kept her off balance.
He released her mouth and dragged her head back to devour her throat, his caresses hot, slick, knowledgeable. Peyton tugged at the neck of her sweatshirt so he could reach more of her skin with those magical lips.
His eyes twinkled with promise as he slid his hands under the hem of her sweatshirt, pulled it over her head in a fluid movement, his fingers barely brushing her skin as he unfastened her fire pants. How could the way he wasn’t touching her turn her on?
“What the hell is this?” he asked, encountering the bra from the middle ages. She’d forgotten about it and reached behind her to discard it.
“It was all they had next door, and I can’t really go without.”
He made a strangled sound as he eased back to inspect the garment. “It looks like your boobs caved in.”
She unfastened it and let it fall between them. Eyes bright with laughter, he looked back up at her.
“Good to know that wasn’t the case.”
He eased his mouth back to nibble her ear, traced his tongue along the edge, driving every coherent thought from her head, then glided his mouth down her throat. Pausing at the swell of her breast, he let his hot breath rush over her flesh. Her nipple pearled painfully before he teased it with lightning-quick touches of his tongue. His name escaped in a sob and he took pity on her and pulled her sensitive skin into the heat of his mouth.
Her whole body contracted with pleasure as he suckled her, circled her nipple with his tongue before teasing it with less practiced movements. Her throaty groan was alien to her ears.
They tangled with each other as they undressed, unwilling to move too far away from each other, and suddenly Gabe’s hands were everywhere, skimming over her skin, her waist, her back, her breasts. As if they’d been making love forever, he knew just where to touch her to make her crazy—the insides of her wrists, the backs of her thighs. He pulled her closer until she whimpered his name. Longing knifed through her, deeper than simple sexual desire. She wanted this. She was sure now.
Together they fell to the bed. The mattress creaked ominously and Peyton’s breath escaped in a grunt.
Gabe shifted his weight so he wouldn’t crush her, and leaned over to dig his wallet out of his pants on the floor. Peyton rolled with him, eager, practically straddling his lap as he pried a foil packet from the leather folds of his wallet, ripped it open.
“What the—?” She stared at the gummy substance inside.
Gabe swore. “It melted.”
