Gabe startled a gasp out of me when those big hands locked around my waist, and he swung me around and set me up on the bar, knocking a couple of stools out of his way as he did so. He pushed my thighs open and settled between them. “Last chance,” he murmured.

“Let’s do this,” I purred.

His hands, hot and hard, streaked under my tank top and stripped it off in one quick movement. Then, oh god, he cupped each of my breasts through the thin material of my bra and pushed them together, giving one slow lick up my cleavage, continuing a trail of fire along the side of my neck until his teeth gently bit my earlobe. The sweet friction of his rough cheek and hot breath against the side of my neck and the feeling of his thumbs rubbing at my peaked nipples almost made me come right there.

Had I thought I was in control of the situation? Minor miscalculation.

“God, these are sweet.” He’d unclasped the back of my bra and slid the straps from my shoulders to cup my breasts. He fastened his mouth to a nipple, sucking hard, and to my surprise, I came.

I didn’t think it was even possible, but with a single touch, my body was clenching, and I was vibrating with sensation like a plucked guitar string. My head fell back, and he moved to give my other breast the same treatment as the orgasm rolled through me, leaving me weak.

“I want to fuck you so bad. But I want to see if the rest of you tastes as good, first.”

The blunt words, spoken in that deep voice gave me another tremor. He unsnapped my jeans and pulled down the zipper, and I leaned back, pushing my hips up so he could pull them down. He undid my boots, and before my pleasure-hazed mind realized what was happening, I was on top of my own bar in only a pair of skimpy black panties.

Gabe, his eyes hooded, gave a slow, sexy half-smile and a low hum of approval. He tugged me forward until my legs dangled over the edge. Leaving my panties on, he traced around them, teasing, first along the top edge with just one callused fingertip… then down both sides until I was pulsing again with the need to be touched. Running one thumb up the damp fabric, he brushed against my clit. Once… twice. I rocked forward, grabbing his shoulders for balance.

“Wait,” I demanded breathlessly, trying to shift the balance of power again.

I undid the buttons on his gray shirt, revealing a heavily muscled chest, tanned golden and lightly dusted with dark hair. He had the arms of a man who did manual labor for a living, thick with well-defined muscles, and I skimmed my fingernails down them as I pushed his shirt down on either side. His shirt dropped to the floor, and I locked my legs around him to pull him close, my hands in his soft, short hair, drawing him in.

But instead of slowing things down with a kiss, it was like throwing gasoline on a fire. His hands were everywhere at once. On my back, running up my sides, his fingers toying with the most sensitive outer curves of my breasts. Our lips and tongues battled, his plunging in a rhythm that imitated sex until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I didn’t care if I was begging. The ache had built to an unbearable level, and I needed it to end.

“Please.”

He held my gaze, unsmiling. “Not yet.”

Hooking his thumbs under the narrow band of elastic at my waist, he pulled my panties off and dropped them on top of his shirt. I leaned back, my arms trembling, as he went straight to my core, delving deep with his tongue.

He made a humming noise, which I took to mean he liked my taste. I bit back a scream as he changed his approach, tonguing circles around my clit, alternating with wide licks. I came harder this time, my legs shaking, holding his head between my hands, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, but he gentled until the sensations were bearable again.

Pulling back, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and this time, he did grin. “Now, we can fuck.”

He stripped off the rest of his clothes and my eyes widened at the sight of his cock. It sprang free of his boxer briefs, thick and long. He pulled a chair out from a table and sat down facing me, holding out a hand.

“Come.”

I wasn’t used to being commanded, but damn, my brain was being overridden by pure lust. And longing. And something else my tangled mind wasn’t able to identify.

I slid down from the counter, my legs still feeling boneless after the intensity of my second orgasm. I was going to need a minute, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than making him as crazy as he’d made me.

Kicking his shirt over between his feet, since I had no intention of getting splinters in my knees, I knelt between his muscular legs, grasping the base of his thick cock. He watched me with those silvery eyes, and despite my limited experience, I felt as daring as a porn star.

Leaning forward, I ran my tongue around the plum-shaped head, tasting salt and man, before fastening my lips around him and sucking him as deep as I could. I had only taken a couple of passes before he abruptly lifted me away.

“So, he can dish it out,” I said, licking my lips, “but he can’t take it.”

I shivered as I gazed into his eyes, the intensity like a punch and warm bath all at once.

He opened his palm to reveal a condom, and I took it from him. Ripping open the package, I took it out, and he guided my hands to roll it on, the gesture so oddly intimate it drove tears to my eyes. Which was strange. Compared to what we had already done and would soon do, the act of sheathing him should have been mundane.

It wasn’t.

We were a team, working together toward a mutually agreed on end. And as much as I wanted just to fuck, I wanted tenderness too. I had no idea why.

“Take it all, Olivia,” he said, curling a hand around my neck. “Take everything.”

Licking my lips, I straddled him, felt him steady the solid marble of his erection until the tip nudged against my opening.

His breathing was ragged. So was mine.

“Take me, Gabe. Now.”

In a motion that took my breath, he lifted his hips and slammed into me, his fingers wrapping around my waist to increase the driving pressure.

I cried out, but he didn’t stop. Grasping me tighter, he angled so that he was hitting my G-spot with every thrust and drag. My thighs tightened around his, and I drove him harder and faster, feeling everything, the air on my skin, his fast breath on my chest where I hugged his face to me, the slide of his cock in and out of my slippery wetness.

Heat rushed upward into my face as I sobbed for breath, every nerve and sensation centered and focused where our bodies met in a fierce, driving rhythm. He was getting close, his thrusts harder and shorter, his teeth biting at my skin.

When his fingers tightened on my hips, and he slammed in deep, the waves broke, and I came again, his name ripping from my throat in a strangled cry. He held on, pistoning into me with those quick, deep thrusts again and again.

He roared, his head thrown back with the weight of the sound as he came so hard, I could feel his cock jerking inside of me with every spasm.

Exhausted, I dropped my head down on his shoulder, and his arms came around me to hold me where I was, aftershocks still rippling through me every few seconds. His strong arms tightened around me, and I felt safe. Safe and contented. And fucking tired.

“All good?” he asked roughly, his chest rumbling beneath my ear.

“All good,” I confirmed, feeling sleepy and sated, breathing in the scent of him. Pine and spice and sex.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“No, you won’t,” I murmured, reluctantly leaning back to look at him. “The stranger danger lecture you gave me? Remember?”

Gabe wasn’t even paying attention, I noted with amusement. He was tracing light patterns on my breasts with his fingertips. The man really had a thing for my breasts. And then, I noticed something else. He was getting hard again. And the pattern thing felt really good.

“Seriously?” I asked, desire blossoming inside me again too.

He shrugged those broad shoulders and gave me an innocent look. “I blame you.”

The second time was slower…

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