Page 32 of The Pretender

When he started to move she almost thanked him. His mouth slipped to the base of her neck. He sucked on the skin there, making her back arch off the couch. But he kept going. His tongue slipped under the material of her bra to flick across her nipple. The intimate touch had her grabbing on to his shoulders, spearing her fingers through his soft hair.

“God, yes.” He said the reverent words as he peeled the top of her bra down and took the tip of her breast in his mouth.

His lips, that tongue... pure magic.

Unable to wait another second to feel skin against skin, she tugged on his sweater, pulling it up his back to his shoulders. He lifted his body up from hers and broke away long enough for her to pull it off. Then he was back, with his mouth learning every inch of her breasts as his hands dipped lower.

The button on her pants popped open. “This is one way to stop me from asking questions.”

The words crashed through her. It was as if her body had been dunked in an icy pool. Everything inside her froze and shriveled.

One of her hands went to her bra as she struggled to pull it up again and cover herself. The other went to his shoulder. She slammed her fist against him. “What did you just say?”

“Fuck.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Nothing.”

She shoved at his chest and moved her legs, trying to kick him off her. “You think this is stalling?”

“I didn’t—”

She kicked harder. “Move.”

He pushed up to his knees and his arms fell to his sides. “Gabby, please.”

“No.” She took in his T-shirt, which was pulled up to his chest, showing off his flat stomach. The ruffled hair and the swollen lips. He looked like a guy who stood one small step away from having sex, but he’d blown it when he reminded her this was all a game to him.

She tried to sit up, but his body weight pinned her. “I mean it. Get off me.”

“Done.” He put one foot on the floor and lifted his body off hers. His hands shot up in the air. “I won’t touch you until you say I can.”

That was never going to happen. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m not arguing with you.” He stood on the floor now, staring down at her with an odd expression.

She refused to see the concern and regret shining in his eyes. He’d traveled to the island to collect data, to gather information. He had a job and she was it, and for a few minutes she’d let herself forget that.

“For the record...” She tried to hold her voice steady and she sat up and finished fiddling with her bra to get it back in place. “If I want to avoid a conversation. I avoid it. I don’t use sex to hide.”

His hands dropped to his sides again. “Understood.”

The quick acceptance just made her more furious. “I made a pass because I wanted you.”

“Gabby, I—”

“And now that’s over.” She bent over and picked up his sweater. Threw it at him and watched him catch it against his chest. “Get out. Sleep on the grass for all I care.”

Chapter 9

Harris spent the next morning doing an inventory of the artwork in the downstairs hallway of the main house, mostly to provide cover for Damon, who was snooping around the house. Being the lookout wasn’t his usual thing, but it gave him an excuse to stick close to the front door. He hadn’t made it back to the library and Damon didn’t push... yet.

The charcoal drawings and Edward Hopper paintings should have kept his attention. Normally, he’d be running a tally in his head for the estimated values, but not today. Amazing how wanting to kick his own ass made doing any actual work harder.

Last night... sweet damn.

Harris shook his head as he turned over the Arthur Dove pencil sketch he’d never seen before and studied the frame. His mind kept blanking out. He couldn’t concentrate because he’d messed up big. Gabby’s big pass had taken him by surprise. He’d expected her to walk back into the guesthouse, emotionally shut down and head off to bed. He’d been prepared for her to change topics. When she’d curled up on his lap he almost swallowed his tongue. His fucking erection had nearly ripped through his jeans.

Yeah, he needed air.

He put the sketch on the hall table and pushed the screen door open, letting it bang shut behind him. He almost swore when he saw Kramer and Ted standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Kramer held a Weedwacker and Ted looked up from where he was kneeling on the grass by the flowerbed.

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