Without missing a beat in the kiss, Gavin pushed the two sides of the shirt aside and brought his chest down on hers, making Ella moan from the bliss of his chest hair brushing against her tight nipples. This was insanity. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
He broke the kiss, gasping for air. “God, Ella . . .” Burying his face in her neck, he took a series of deep breaths.
She caressed his back in small circles, working her way down, learning each hill and valley of his muscular frame and making him tremble under her hands. Reaching the waistband of his boxers, she faced a dilemma. Keep going like she wanted to or stop like she knew she should?
After years and years of checking out the way that sexy ass looked in denim, she found she couldn’t resist the temptation to smooth her hands over the tight globes that grew tighter as she explored him.
“Fuck,” he whispered on a long exhale. “Ella . . .”
She squirmed under him, his erection pressing against her.
“I want to touch you, too,” he said.
“Please . . . Yes.” Maybe it was shameless to all but beg him, but when a girl’s dreams were coming true, she hardly had time to be concerned about shame.
He used his arms to lift himself off her, going up to his knees. Pushing her legs apart, he bent over her to kiss her left breast. The scrape of his late-day whiskers against her skin made her feel feverish. Then he closed his lips around her nipple, tugging and sucking as he continued to press his erection between her legs. The combination was too much and just right all at the same time. “Gavin . . .”
“It’s okay, baby. Let it happen. You’re so sweet and sexy.”
His words triggered her orgasm, which ripped through her body like an out-of-control freight train.
She came down from the incredible high to discover she had fistfuls of his hair and was about to give him two very big bald spots.
“That was so hot,” he whispered against her lips. “I can’t wait to be inside you when that happens.”
“Mmm.” The thought of that was more than she could process with her body still humming from the most powerful orgasm of her life. If he could do that while barely touching her, she was almost afraid of what else he was capable of. But she also couldn’t wait to find out.
“You okay?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
He moved to his side, taking her with him.
She cuddled up to him, her legs intertwining with his like they’d been sleeping together forever. All the earlier awkwardness was gone and in its place was a growing sense of familiarity that she’d yearned for with him.
The press of his hard cock against her belly was a reminder that only one of them had found this encounter to be particularly fulfilling. She flattened her hand against his stomach and dragged it down to cover the hard column of flesh, discovering that he most definitely needed those extra-large condoms. Holy moly!
He drew in a sharp deep breath and covered her hand with his own, stopping her from moving.
“Let me,” she whispered.
“I can’t. I’m right there.”
“That’s okay.” She pushed his hand aside and began to stroke him through the thin cotton of his underwear.
“Ella . . .” His voice sounded strangled.
“It’s okay.”
He got harder and longer. His grip on her arm tightened and his breathing became labored.
Ella leaned in closer to kiss him, dragging her tongue over his lips before delving inside his mouth.
Groaning, he thrust into her hand and came.
She stayed with him all the way through it until he relaxed against her.
His hand slid inside her shirt and curved around her back. “I feel incredibly lucky that you’ll even speak to me let alone do that.”
“We’re both lucky to have this opportunity to be together this way. Promise you won’t hurt me, Gavin.”
“That’s the last thing in the world I want to do.”
It wasn’t exactly a promise, but she’d take what she could get where he was concerned.
CHAPTER 5
Grief can take care of itself, but to get
the full value of a joy you must have
somebody to divide it with.
—Mark Twain
Waking with Ella tucked up against him, Gavin replayed the night before, picking over every detail and every minute they’d spent together. What she’d said to him about Caleb and how he was left to live for both of them had struck home. It was true and something he’d been aware of for quite some time, while he tried to find a way through the relentless grief to get back to living.
He could barely remember what his life had been like before the day that shattered all their lives. In the ensuing years, he’d put himself back together as best he could, but none of the pieces fit quite the way they used to. He was like the old ceramic vase his mother had treasured until he and Caleb had knocked it over while wrestling one day and then attempted to cover up their crime by gluing the fragments back together.
The vase had never been the same, and neither had he after his brother died. He’d coped, of course. He’d had no choice but to carry on. He had parents who needed him, a business that had been new to him at the time of Caleb’s death, and with everything he had sunk into it, letting it founder wasn’t an option. In many ways, the business had saved him by giving him something to focus on.
Last night Ella had shown him in only a few hours that there was a huge difference between existing and living. He felt more alive and aware and alert with her in his arms than he had in years. The constant, relentless pain that held him in its tight grip had lessened at some point, and he had her to thank for that.
She was taking a huge gamble with him. He hadn’t been joking when he called himself a fixer-upper. Disaster area might be a better term. But he was determined to be worthy of her, even if his better judgment was still telling him he ought to leave her alone.
After what happened last night, however, leaving her alone was the last thing he wanted. Though he’d gotten up and changed into clean underwear and flannel pajama pants, his hand had once again ventured inside the open front of the shirt of his that she wore. Her skin was so soft and her hair smelled so good. Like fresh air and sunshine and happiness. Ella was the most joyful person he knew—always smiling and happy and laughing.
It would kill him if any of that changed because of him. I can’t let that happen. She’d already nearly killed him once when she asked him to promise that he wouldn’t hurt her. It would ruin him if he ever hurt her, so he made a silent vow to be careful with her, to treat her like the most fragile, important, priceless thing in his life. Because she was. The way she’d come riding to his rescue more than once and kept coming back even after he’d sent her away was evidence of her commitment to him.
She stirred, mumbled something he couldn’t hear and then opened her eyes.
He got to watch her initial surprise at seeing him and then felt her relax when she remembered why she was there with him.
“Morning.” He kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair.
“Morning.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
So she wasn’t particularly chatty in the morning, or perhaps she was rethinking her decision to spend the night with him. He couldn’t say he blamed her, but he really hoped that wasn’t the case.
“I . . . um, I should get going.” Clutching both sides of the unbuttoned shirt, Ella turned over, dislodging the hand he had on her ribs. She got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.