Page 23 of Bedding The Best Man (Bedding the Bachelors)

“Oh Gabe,” she moaned as she dug her nails into his back, a bite of pain that he relished. Then he felt her shudder beneath him, her legs wrap tightly around his waist, and she screamed “Yes, Gabe, yes!”

Her release shook her body for several long moments, and he relished every moan and whimper that came from her. Finally, when she’d calmed and her breathing had slowed, he eased out of her and kissed her forehead tenderly. Already she was nodding off again; the mix of alcohol in her system and her own exhaustion from a satiating fuck had clearly overwhelmed her. He was glad for that, and relished the thought of falling asleep again with her in his arms.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, as his body cooled and the tremors of pleasure dissipated, he closed his eyes, and heard her say quite clearly, “What a great dream.” And then she was out.

Gabe lay there in stunned silence as realization coursed through him. A dream. She’d thought making love to him had been a dream.

Oh God, what had he done?

He lay with her for several anguished minutes, staring at her beautiful face, not knowing what to do. Finally, painfully, he forced himself to get up. He slipped on his t-shirt and boxers again, and then he scurried out of her bedroom and to the sofa.

Dropping his head into his hands, Gabe tried to get a handle on what was happening. He’d just had sex with Brianne. Crazy, wild, passionate sex. It had been every damn thing that he knew it would be, every bit of potential that he’d known they could live up to. It had been a goddamned revelation, and he’d never come that hard in his life. He’d been desperate to go again. Hell, a large part of him wanted to head back in there and pick up where they had left off. He’d given in to his passion too hard, but he wanted to prove to himself and to Brianne that he could cherish her the way she deserved.

But being too fast and a bit too rough was the least of his problems. The biggest problem was that she’d thought it was all some damn sex fantasy, didn’t know that he’d made love to her. He had no idea how to explain that to her in the cold light of day, how to deal with it when she saw the raw marks around her wrists and the bruises he had left on her ass.

He wasn’t sure he could, but even that seemed to pale in comparison to the ultimate betrayal: What he’d done to Eric. Yes, Eric had left her at the altar but that didn’t mean things were over forever between them. Once Eric came back…

Eric had been his best friend since college. He’d promised to always have his bud’s back, and there was no way he could do that and fall for Brianne. No, not fall. Hehadfallen. He had fallen hard and now Gabe how no idea what to do about it.

Chapter Nine

Brianne blinked awake and two things hit her at once: the intoxicating smell wafting in from the kitchen, and the fact she was sore all over, although the subtle ache in her hips and core felt good. As she sat up, realization began to dawn on her. None of this made sense. She was the only one who’d come home last night from the club. Waffles didn’t spontaneously make themselves, and sex dreams could be vivid, as hers had often been, but they couldn’t leave her feeling sore.

Oh God, it hadn’t been a dream! It had really happened. Suddenly, everything hit her hard. Gabe bringing her home from the club, her asking him to stay. She felt a cold chill sweeping over her and started to hyperventilate, her lungs taking in huge gulps of air.

How could she have done this?

She’d thrown herself at Gabe like some pathetic, love sick school girl. Bile rose in her throat, and she wanted to vomit, though that might just have been from the hideous hangover that lurked behind her embarrassment. What a fool she’d been.

But she couldn’t hide in her room all day.

What they’d shared last night had been the most intense, most erotic night of her life, and if they’d been different people, she’d drag Gabe’s ass back into bed right then and let breakfast burn. But they weren’t different people, and she needed to face what had happened and try to fix things if at all possible.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Brianne stood up and shoved on a pair of sweats and a faded college t-shirt. Grabbing a rubber band from her dresser, she pulled her long, tangled hair up into a bun. Holding her shoulders up with as much dignity as she could, she walked into her kitchen.

Waffles were piled high on the plate in the center of the table. Most were a bit crispier than she liked them, some char on their edges, and Brianne wondered if he’d burned them because he wasn’t used to her kitchen, or because he was as nervous about this confrontation as she was. After last night and the hurdle of this morning, she could hardly blame him for being distracted

“Hey,” she said, blushing furiously.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rough, his expression neutral even as his eyes blazed with fiery emotion. “You hungry? You didn’t have any oranges but I went to the corner store and got some grape juice and some Tropicana. They’re in the fridge, if you like.”

Sex with the real-life Gabe had been completely different than her fantasies had been. He was much rougher, for one thing. In her dreams, they made tender love. Last night they’d screwed like animals and it had left nail marks and bruises on her hips, and red splotches on her collar bone. But one thing couldn’t be denied—she’d loved it. And now here he was, talking politely about juice. She wasn’t sure what to do, how to play it.

He, on the other hand, seemed reserved but comfortable, which made sense. From what she’d heard and seen throughout the years, he had more experience with one-night stands than she did. She was a serial monogamist, while he’d slept around like crazy, and as such was accustomed to the post-booty chat session.

How many women had he made breakfast for?

It made her sick to think about it.

Finally, deciding to be as cool as he was, she nodded. She walked as calmly as she could manage to the fridge, brought the juice to the table, and poured herself a glass. “Would you like some?”

“No thanks.”

“You sure? This is fantastic,” she said after she drank a big swallow of the tart orange juice.

He said nothing, just continued staring at her with a blank expression. It made her more nervous, which made her start to get angry—with him, herself, and the whole situation. Before she even knew what was going to come out of her mouth, she’d tilted her chin defiantly and said, “Not as fantastic as the orgasms we gave each other last night, of course.”

His eyes widened briefly and for a moment Brianne thought she had managed to break the chilly atmosphere, that he would smile at her and everything would be okay, but her heart sank when his jaw muscles clenched. “Theywerefantastic,” he said. “It was my pleasure. Too much so. Because I didn’t use a condom.”

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