Page 40 of Visions of You

“Let’s go to the Barn.”

He parked in front of my door and took the whisky and glasses back. “Wait there.”

I watched as he exited the door and hurried around the front to open my door. A grin spread across my face as he held out his hand to help me out. “You are quite the gentleman, aren’t you?”

Once I stood upright, Gabe yanked me forward. I fell against his chest as he grabbed a handful of my hair with his free hand. He kissed me hard, raking his mouth over mine. I was so turned on I could hardly breathe.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips swollen. “I’m only a gentleman about some things.”

Without another word, he spun around and led me by the hand into my apartment. We sat on the couch, and he placed the whisky and glasses on the coffee table before us. With one twist, he broke the seal on the bottle and poured two fingers of the rich amber fluid in each tumbler.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to offer me a glass,” I said. “You seemed ready for the main event out there.”

He handed me the whisky, then stroked his fingers through my hair. “I want you badly, April. But like you said, we’re not teenagers. I know how to do this right for you.”

One of my brows flew up. “Just for me?”

A smile stretched his lips before he whisked them over mine. “Believe me. I’ll enjoy every minute of this.”

I swirled the liquid in my glass. “I should probably inform you I’m not much of a whisky drinker,” I said, shooting him a side-eye.

Gabe smiled and lifted his glass. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing toit. Just take a big drink and let it roll around in your mouth. That way you get the different flavors.”

We drank at the same time. At first, the Macallan was pure fire. I blinked several times and fought not to cough. But as I followed his instructions, different notes in the drink started to appear. Smokiness, a rich peat taste, and then a long, smooth finish after I swallowed.

Gabe’s eyes were closed, and a blissful expression came over his face as his throat worked. As he ran his tongue over his lips, heat rolled through me that wasn’t related to the alcohol.

I took a second, smaller sip, enjoying the flavor. Though I wasn’t ready to say I was an aficionado yet, and that made me feel somewhat guilty. The bottle probably cost hundreds of dollars. “How much does a bottle of thirty-year-old whisky cost, anyway?”

Gabe slowly opened his eyes and took a deep sniff of the liquid in his glass. “Depends. This one was about five thousand dollars.”

I almost dropped my glass. Only a last-second, panicked grip saved it. With my heart pounding, I stared at him. “Oh my God! You can’t waste it by pouring it out.”

A smile rose on his face that did nothing to calm my frantic heart. “I have no intention of wasting a drop.” After taking another drink, he swallowed and leaned in. This time his kiss was slow and sensual.

I could taste the whisky on his tongue and the idea of what he wanted to do with it turned me on so much I could hardly stand it. Deep, regular pulses radiated from my core. After the wine at dinner, my head was filled with a pleasant buzzing.

But not all of it was due to the alcohol. I’d never met a more intoxicating man.

Gabe gently traced his hand up the back of my neck, watching as he ran the strands of my hair over his fingers. “Is the rug still on the floor upstairs in the bedroom? In front of the fireplace?”

“Yes.” Another quiver rippled through me that he was so much more familiar with this room—this entire apartment—than I was.

He downed the rest of his glass in a single shot and placed it onthe coffee table with a solid clunk. Grabbing the bottle by its neck, he stood and held out his hand. “Then what are we waiting for?”

My room was nearly dark when we entered. Gabe crossed the floor to stand before the massive stone fireplace. I hadn’t done much with this part of the room, and two cream-colored pillar candles stood on each end of the mantle. Gabe’s face came alive in flickering light as he struck a match and lit them both.

At the base of the four-foot-wide fireplace, a thick, fluffy, gray-and-white rug lay on the wooden floor. Two wingback chairs sat on the far side of it. Kicking my sandals off, I stepped onto the rug, scrunching my toes in the soft surface.

Turning back, he set the whisky bottle on the floor next to the rug and stopped in front of me. He raised both hands to fan my hair out, staring at me intently, as if he were studying every plane of my face. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

His eyes held me, even though his words made me uncomfortable. “I’ve never thought of myself that way.”

Softly whisking his mouth over mine, he whispered, “You should. You should hear it every day until you believe it.”

He lifted my shirt off and unhooked my bra with one hand. After he tossed it aside, I lifted the hem of his shirt. He was too tall for me to get it off, so he ripped it over his head. Our mouths came together again in a slow, delicious kiss. I skimmed my tongue over his lips, and he responded with a deep growl. He cupped my breasts with both hands, his thumbs moving over their hard peaks.

At the same time, we both rushed to remove the rest of our clothing and stood before each other naked. I slowly traced my hands over his chest, the soft hair brushing underneath my fingers. I still had trouble believing a man this magnificent wanted me. And Gabe was magnificent, every inch of him.

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