Page 10 of Bedding The Best Man (Bedding the Bachelors)

He grinned at the brunette, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“Hey, lover boy, throw her a kiss then get your ass up. The bell’s about to ring. She won’t like that pretty face so much once this guy crunches the cartilage in your nose and the bones in your cheeks.”

Sam was a poet. He was also Gabe’s savior. He’d been like a father to Gabe when he’d needed one most, teaching him to use his anger, to channel it. At sixteen years old, Gabe had been standing in front of a judge because he’d finally snapped and beaten the crap out of one of his mom’s abusive boyfriends. His mom hadn’t said a word about the black eye and broken ribs the giant piece of shit had given her, but as soon as Gabe had seen it, he’d been determined to get the scumbag responsible out of their lives.

He’d beaten the guy bad, and been thrown in jail for his efforts. His Mom? She hadn’t tried to bail him out. She hadn’t even visited him. He’d known then, sitting beside his court appointed public defender, that the alcohol and the terrible men would always come first in her life. He’d just been a mistake she wished had never happened, a burden she didn’t want the responsibility of any longer.

Sam had worked with juvenile offenders in the district, taking them on at the gym and giving them purpose again. He’d done that with Gabe, and they’d spent hours together. Sam never let any of his boys think they couldn’t achieve anything they wanted, no matter where they came from. The shining Olympic gold boxing medal in his office was tangible proof that a kid from the streets could make it to the top.

Gabe pushed himself to his feet. The brunette was still standing there staring at him. He winked at her with his good eye.

Just as the bell rang, Gabe went out fighting and so did Javier. The force of the punches he was throwing and absorbing reverberated through his body. Sweat ran in rivulets down his bare chest and arms. Yet even as Gabe fought, part of him was still distracted, which was why minutes later, when the fight was called, it was called in Javier’s favor.

Gabe took the verbal spanking he deserved from Sam and then headed into the musty and dim locker room for a shower. The gym was smack dab in the middle of Gabe’s old neighborhood and looked as rundown as ever, the floor sticky with dried sweat and spilled energy drinks. Funny how, as much as he’d wanted to escape the neighborhood when he was younger, being back and in the old gym again always made him feel better. Centered. As if it was all a reminder of how much he’d accomplished in life.

But why the hell did he continue to need that validation?

He flexed his knuckles, then rolled his head on his shoulders. He’d been here for over an hour and while he was sore and tired his brain had yet to let go of the problems that had sent him into the gym in the first place.

Brianne.

He closed his eyes.

He knew wanting her was wrong; it had always been wrong. He’d had a chance to be with her and he hadn’t taken it. Eric had. Eric, no matter how big of an asshole he’d turned out to be, was still Brianne’s fiancé. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. Eric had called off the wedding, and except for a text to Brianne the day of and a subsequent email to his friends telling them he was fine but needed his space, no one had heard from him. Still, eventually he’d come out of hiding and make things right.

At the thought, Gabe punched a locker and had the grim satisfaction of pretending it was Eric’s face below his fist. Then, eyes closed, palm flat against the locker, all he could picture was Brianne and what might have happened if he’d actually acted on his urges for once and kissed her that night on the beach.

If he’d done everything he’d wanted to do to her.

He’d wanted to slide his hands down the long smooth column of her throat, feeling the satiny texture of her skin below his fingertips as his mouth held hers. He’d wanted to press against her, grind his growing erection against the lean span of her pelvis, and hear her gasping loudly as he tangled his hands into the thick and silky tresses that crowned her head.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, hoping to banish those thoughts. No luck. His mind was caught up in a delicious fantasy. He could almost feel the firm plumpness of her lips under his, taste the intoxicating flavor of her mouth as his tongue plundered every corner and crevice.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails biting gently into the flesh below his shirt. Her body arched upward against his, her narrow hips meeting his as she pushed harder, rubbing against his thickening erection. Her tongue darted into his mouth then twined around his. She tasted of spearmint gum, and deep red wine. Her lips, glossed to perfection a moment before, parted even further as his hands moved along her body, measuring the gentle swell of her breasts and then slid downward, resting against the sexy and delicate breadth of her ribs. He felt those bones moving in and out with every breath she managed to drag into her mouth between kisses.

His hands went lower. He placed one hand between her legs and squeezed gently, making her gasp and whimper. He removed his hand and let it slip toward her hip as his leg moved between her thighs, parting them even further while the long skirt of her gown rode high along her, revealing the flesh closest to the little black panties that she wore, the lace already soaked and sticky from the fluids dripping from her core.

Her body swayed along the length of his thigh, her hips pumping slightly as she rocked on the hard, smooth muscle between her parted legs.

Her hands tugged at his hair as he let his fingers wander upward, tease at the very edge of her panties, dipping inward to find the neatly trimmed hair covering her slippery labia. His fingers ran through that hair, tangled and damp from her juices.

He moved his finger lower, just low enough that he could feel the soft and delicate flesh below the hair. Her outer labia parted, her intense arousal making it easy for him to delve inside her.

Her fingernails dug into his scalp and her eyes dilated as she whispered, “Oh God yes. Yes, Gabe.”

His finger went deeper into her wet and willing depths. Her tongue met his again and he pulled the panties to one side, growling with frustration as he struggled to get them out of the way so that he could get another finger into her tight, pulsing inner folds. He withdrew, leaving her whimpering and thrusting her hips toward him. His fingers found the erect ridge of her clit and massaged it but it wasn’t enough.

Not for either of them.

He went to his knees. Her salty-sweet flavor filled his mouth, coated his tongue, and he let his fingers delve into her again as his tongue massaged her clit faster and faster, taking her to the brink of an orgasm. Her legs shook and he had to press her back into the wall to keep her from collapsing on top of his body as he knelt there in the junction of her thighs.

He stood, his hands going to his zipper to release the heavy thickness of his cock. His hand caressed it, and more blood filled the already swollen and aching flesh. Her hands latched onto his shoulders as he lifted her by her waist. Her legs wrapped around him, the feel of her flesh against his making him crazy with desire.

Her back hit the wall again as she lifted her hips, just enough, and the very tip of his engorged dick slid between her labia and into the soaked walls behind them. Her cry was low and throaty, filled with need. “Yes,” she whimpered, “Oh please, Gabe. Please make love to me.”

He pushed upward, and she slid downward. Their bodies collided and the sensation was so intense, so fucking right, that he—

Gabe jolted out of his daydream and head bowed, he took several heaving breaths to calm himself down. Finally, still half-dazed, he looked around guiltily, but he was still alone, albeit sporting an impressive boner.

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