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“By something, do you mean Hope?” Carter asked as he casually dried a glass with the bar towel that had been slung over his shoulder.
“By something, I mean none of your damn business,” Gabe bit out, and Carter snorted a laugh. “Can I count on you, or do I have to put fucking Harvey in charge?”
This only made Carter laugh harder.
Not in the mood for dramatics, he said, “You know what? Forget it.” He turned to leave, but Carter grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.
“Man, relax. I’ve got the bar tomorrow.” His tone was now serious, but his baby blues were still alight with amusement. “I’ve got your back. Go get your girl. You deserve more time with her.”
Gabe grunted in acquiescence and went to find Hope. She was in the staff room, shrugging into a short jacket, when he found her.
He propped his shoulder on the doorjamb and enjoyed the view of her body as she moved to put on her jacket. The lift of her arms that pulled her t-shirt up to expose more of her smooth skin. The way her breasts strained against the t-shirt. The pretty fall of her hair as she removed it from of its ponytail.
She was gorgeous. In every way a person could be. And she was just about everything he’d assumed she wasn’t when she’d first appeared in his world.
Hope was hooking her purse over her shoulder when she noticed him, and a smile spread across her face that lit up his whole night.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked gruffly.
“Hey,” she said sweetly, but he could feel the heat of desire behind her casual acknowledgment. He could feel it because it mirrored his own. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, and he was done making either of them wait for what they wanted. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go out for a drink or something.”
He moved toward her, reveling in the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she watched his approach like he was a long cold drink and she was dying of thirst. He threaded his fingers into her soft, golden hair and tipped her face up to look up at him.
“The only place I want to go with you is home,” he said. Fuck, it felt like he hadn’t touched her in days, not hours.
Her dark brown eyes melted as they locked on his. “Good,” she said, her voice breathless. “Because I want you to go home with you too.”
Then he dragged her to him, so that every inch of her was touching every inch of him, and kissed her. She moaned, completely undoing him, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing her whole body against his, she set his blood on fire with desire.
He had to have her, would have had her right here on the staff room floor if he could have, but he’d already taken her like a desperate animal tonight, and she deserved a lot more finesse for round two. So when those bewitching fingers crawled their way beneath his t-shirt, he summoned the dredges of his control and held her away from him.
“Not here, Hope.”
A look of disappointment flashed so quick in her eyes he almost missed it, but it betrayed her need. She was as desperate as he was.
“I want you upstairs, in my empty apartment, in my bed, under me, screaming my name so loud you’ll be hoarse for a week.”
Her eyes went from chocolate brown to near black as her pupils dilated.
He offered up a wicked smile as he added, “Empty apartment this time. No reason to be quiet.” He grabbed her hand and led her out of the staff room and up the back staircase in less than a minute.
In front of his apartment door, he fumbled with the keys like a shaky virgin, almost dropping the damn things when she pressed against his back to run the tip of her tongue along the curve of his earlobe.
Shit, if she kept this up, he was going to come in his pants—and he hadn’t done that since he actually had been a fumbling virgin.
By the time he’d shoved his keys into the lock and pushed open the door, he was sweating. He had the door shut and Hope pressed up against the inside of it in under a second. His mouth found hers and he kissed her with all the desperation that’d built inside him throughout the torturous night.
He all but ripped off her jacket and shirt. Rearing back, he stared at her for a minute, taking in the sight of her chest heaving as she sucked in air, her beautiful breasts straining against the lace of her black bra. Then he claimed her mouth like a man starving.
It was alarming how desperate she made him feel. How he lost control with her every fucking time. He wanted to lift her skirt, shove away her panties, free himself from his jeans, and be inside her. He didn’t care that he didn’t have a condom on hand, and he didn’t care what the consequences would be.
And suddenly, there it was. The image of Hope pregnant with his child lodged in his mind and a feeling of rightness enveloped his heart, flooding him with warmth. He jerked away from her, more than a little panicked at where his thoughts had gone. It was too soon to be thinking those things—she was still so young. Too young. He’d been her age when he’d had Ruby, and while his daughter was the single most important thing that had ever happened to him, he also knew how many other things he could have done and experienced if his life had taken another path.
Hope deserved a chance to live out whatever dreams she wanted. Especially the ones that had brought her to Portland.
Which, he was pretty sure, did not include getting knocked up by him.
Oblivious, Hope used the space between them as an opportunity to undress him.
