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“I know. That’s why you should come over now. Don’t you want to?”
He did groan this time. “I’m hard as a rock, damn it.”
“Oh. Are you really?” The seductive purr had left her voice. She sounded a little breathless, a little doubtful, and hell, if that didn’t make him want to show her just how hard he was.
“Yes,” he finally said. “And you? Are you turned on?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes. I like thinking of you that way.”
Oh, God, she was going to kill him. He gripped his cock through the fabric and squeezed it hard. “Have you touched yourself?” he asked, torturing himself further.
“No. I was hoping you’d do that for me.”
Gabe blew out a long sigh. It was after eleven. He had to work tomorrow. His muscles ached from the climb today. And this wasn’t part of his plan. He knew how to wait for something he wanted.
“Please?” she whispered again.
Fuck his plan. “I’ll be right there,” he said.
She was laughing as he hung up the phone, but he was in too much pain to laugh. If she wanted to be touched, he’d touch her. Hadn’t the girl waited long enough? And it was her birthday, after all.
He grabbed shoes, a jacket and his keys and stalked out. She didn’t want champagne and candles, but if this was part of her fantasy, he wanted to give it to her.
Gabe knew he had trouble with wanting to be an ideal. An ideal son. An ideal colleague. An ideal boyfriend. He wanted to be the kid his dad could count on. He liked being the male librarian who wasn’t shitty and chauvinistic. He’d always loved being told he was a great lover. The problem with being ideal was that it got tiring. Sometimes he wanted to be selfish. But right now his desire to make it good for Veronica lined up perfectly with what he wanted. To get her naked, to touch her, to make her come.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. Or...he could. He just didn’t want to.
By the time he knocked on Veronica’s door, he was calmer, at least. And when he saw her smile, he was damn glad he’d come over.
She looked different tonight. More confident. Her eyes sparkled and her chin was tipped up to meet his gaze.
She opened the door wider to let him in. “Did you bring me a present?”
Gabe laughed at her audaciousness. “Wait a minute. Are you drunk?” he asked.
She giggled as she shut the door. “Just enough to be honest.”
“Yes, I seem to remember how honest you get when you drink. But if you’re drunk...”
“I’m not! I promise.”
“Come here,” he said, reaching for her. When he leaned down to kiss her, she met his mouth with a happy eagerness that twisted his heart. She was so...bright. So sweet. Nothing like what he’d first thought of her. He bit her bottom lip, then licked at the spot he’d bitten.
“I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk,” he murmured.
She groaned, but before she could protest, he kissed her again. He wasn’t going to fuck her. He was going to make her come.
Her hands rose to grip his head, to pull him down for a deeper kiss, as if she meant to change his mind. He loved the way her tongue rubbed at his, the way her fingers gripped his hair. He was instantly hard again, instantly aching.
He eased her toward the couch. He wanted to touch her, explore her body, and the couch seemed a little more comfortable than leaning against the door. Or sitting on a boulder. He sat down and tugged her after him.
She wore a cute little red dress that rose up her thighs when she put her knees on the couch and straddled him.
“Tell me what you did today,” he said, dragging his thumbs up her inner thighs.
Her head dropped and she watched his hands. “I worked. Then I went out to dinner with my girlfriends.”
“Lauren?” he asked, drawing little circles on her skin.
