A Question of Love: Sequel to A Question of Trust Page 7

  Which made the resounding thud beside her left ear all the more shocking.

  Gabe pounded the wall with his fist. Once, twice and a third time. With a strangled moan he dropped his thigh and drew away from Tina. He did not release her until her feet touched the ground.

  With legs as useless as rubber, she slid weightlessly down the wall, her knees caving beneath her, and came to rest in a shapeless lump on the carpeted floor.

  Gabe prowled her lounge, a veritable giant amongst her furniture. He drew to a halt against the wall opposite her, hit it once and then dropped to the floor as well.

  For endless moments he stared at her, his eyes hooded, his mouth drawn. The sound of heavy breathing echoed in her ears. His? Hers? She had no idea. Her heart slammed into her ribs, her lungs seeking oxygen in the airless room.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I…shouldn’t have done that.”

  She waited until she was sure she could string a sentence together. “I…shouldn’t have hit you.” Yet even with the acknowledgement her hand still curled into a fist, the dull ache in her knuckles nothing compared to the need to lash out at him again.

  He stared at her fist and raised an eyebrow. The look on his face might have been skeptical—if longing and naked desire hadn’t shadowed his eyes. “But you’re not sorry you did.”

  She forced her fingers to straighten. “You hurt me, Gabe.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “I wanted to…hurt you back.”

  Another nod. “That’s okay.” He slumped against the wall and let his arms drop to his sides. “I won’t respond this time. I swear.” He kept his gaze level with hers. “Come at me. Hurt me as much as you need to.”

  Instinct made her hands curl into fists again, but this time, Tina restrained herself. If she went at him now she’d last maybe three seconds before her blows turned to caresses. Instead of inflicting pain she’d draw relief from touching his skin. If she so much as tapped a finger to his flesh now, she’d be naked and begging for more before Gabe had time to register what had—or hadn’t—hit him.

  She bit back a frustrated cry. “I just want…” Her voice trailed off. “I want… I need…” She shook her head, unable to put words to her thoughts.

  “What is it, T? Tell me. Anything you want. Anything. It’s yours.”

  She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I just want…” And then because nothing else would have made sense under the circumstances, she said, “I just want pasta for dinner.”

  They went to an Italian restaurant. Gabe plied her with good food and good wine. He entertained her with stories about his patients and his practice. He coaxed her into telling him about her life over the last few years, listening to each word as if he were hungry to discover every detail he’d missed. So enjoyable was his company she was almost lulled into believing the incident in her apartment had never taken place. Almost. Except for the tangible desire Gabe seemed to emit with every breath.

  The heat between them pinged back and forth across the table, Gabe exhaling it, she inhaling. It burned through her lungs as clearly as if he’d touched her, scorching her with his fingers. He hadn’t touched her. Not once. There had been no physical contact between them since he’d released her from the sensual prison of his body. Didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of the lust that hissed between them.

  As she spoke he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. Each time she laughed his gaze lingered on her mouth for just a second too long. The one time she’d licked a drop of Neapolitan sauce from her lip, his lips had parted, the bottom one pink and full, as though it had just been kissed.

  And then there were the not-so-subtle hints. The blatant expressions of his need that whipped up a whirlwind in her stomach and made eating impossible.

  “T,” he whispered when there was a lull in conversation.

  She leaned forward to hear him better. “Yes, Gabe?”

  “I want to strip every single item of clothing from your body, lay you bare across this table and fuck you until neither of us can walk straight.”

  His words, soft as they were, hit her with the force of a volcano. She gaped at him.

  “I want to feel your mouth wrapped around my dick. I want…need your hot tongue lapping at my balls, making me come.”

  Tina swallowed. The spicy tomato zest of her pasta vanished. All she could taste was the salty, musky tang of intimate male skin.

  He took a small, uneven breath and then continued. “But not as much as I want to stretch your thighs wide open and bury my face between your legs. Christ, T, I want to lick your pussy until you climax, screaming, in my mouth.”

  Had Tina’s mind been working on full alert, she would have glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching them, listening in. But Gabe’s words, his tone and his honesty had her reeling, had her dissolving in a puddle of wanton lust. She too was desperate to strip away her clothes, desperate to lay naked on the table before him.

  All she needed now was Connor and their trio would be complete.

  “And then…” Gabe closed his eyes and seemed to swallow a moan. “And then, when you’re wet and hot and swollen—and still shaking from your orgasm, I want to flip you over, pull your hips up and slide inside you. Deep, deep inside you.”

  His earlier words echoed through her head. So goddamned deep inside you I lose myself.

  For long moments he stared into her eyes, not saying another word. He didn’t have to. His face was glazed with undisguised hunger.

  Her heart clanged against her ribs, her stomach tying itself in all sorts of knots. Her arms lay limp on the table, heavy as leaden weights and impossible to move.

  “Or,” Gabe said at last, and Tina held her breath, “we could just have dessert?”

  She had a bowl of gelato. A large, decadent bowl, filled with flavors of Gabe’s choice, since she couldn’t string a sentence together to order for herself. She ate it without tasting anything, hoping like hell the iced creaminess would cool down her soaring body temperature.

  It didn’t. Flames roared in her belly, and images danced through her mind. Images of her and Gabe and Connor entwined in the most carnal positions. Gabe, flat on his back, she straddling his hips and Connor behind her. And both of them inside her. Deep, deep inside her.

  Tina’s cheeks burned. Her breasts tightened, and she drew in a breath that shuddered through her chest.

  Gabe took one look at her and leaned in close. Once again he dropped his voice. “I have an erection the size of a frigging cricket bat.” He pursed his lips as a muscle ticked in his jaw, and he sat back with a thump. “That’s what it feels like anyway.”

  The thought of his rigid cock had her mouth watering. Tina licked her lips, and then, God help her, she did it again.

  “Damn it, T…” Gabe growled at her. “Show me that tongue again and all earlier promises are off.”

  She abruptly changed the conversation. No way was she going off in that direction. “I need to go through all my pads,” she said. “Find the sketches that’ll be good enough for the exhibition.”

  Gabe hesitated just long enough to nod and draw a deep breath. “Your sketches are all good enough to show.”

  She gave him a half smile. “Nah, they’re not. Some are awful.” That was enough to head the conversation off into new, safer territory.

  “You need some help going through your work?” Gabe asked.

  Tina considered his offer. There were at least a hundred pads shoved away in her cupboard. Gabe’s strength and assistance would make retrieving them easier. This time her smile was generous. “I’d love some help. Thank you.”

  Gabe nodded. “Cool. We can start when we get back to your place.”

  His comment set her heart back into race mode.

  Gabe was coming home with her. Back to her place, where all that lay between them and her toys was a defenseless drawer.

  “Would you like a drink?” Tina offered.

  Gabe sat back and stretched, ca
reful not to knock over any of the sketch pads stacked around the lounge room floor. “I’d kill for a cold one.”

  She stood. “One beer coming up.”

  He followed her with his gaze as she walked towards the kitchen. Her jeans pulled around her tight ass, riding low on her hips. Fuck, his dick ached. It had been up and down the whole fucking evening. Mostly up. Willpower, he’d discovered, was not one of his strong suits. Not where Tina was concerned. He was going to have a serious case of blue balls by the end of the night.

  He grunted, shifted position to ease the strain on his groin, picked up yet another pad and paged through the sketches. Then regretted it. Shit. Wrong one. Wrong fucking one to choose.

  The first drawing was of Connor. He lounged on Tina’s bed, his lower body covered by a sheet. A sated, post orgasmic grin was plastered on his mug. Gabe knew the expression well.

  He repressed a violent urge to hit something. The only way Tina could have captured that look was to have seen it. Which she had. Altogether too many fucking times.

  While Gabe found that sketch perturbing, the next one screwed with his head. This time it was of Connor and him. They both sat on his old couch, butt naked with twin looks of expectation and excitement on their faces. Both had raging boners. Gabe held his hand out in an inviting fashion—summoning Tina over to join them. No question what would happen next.

  He saw red.

  “Here you go. One ice cold beer.”

  Too late. He hadn’t heard her come back into the room. Now she stood before him, her hand stretched out, offering him a brown bottle. He blinked twice then a third time to clear his vision and looked up at her face. She didn’t notice. Her gaze was plastered on the sketch, her cheeks filling with color.

  For endless seconds she stared. Just stared. Her eyes turned from almond to dark brown. Her lips parted and her arm began to tremble. Gabe caught the beer just as it slipped from her grip.

  Fuck.

  He took a long pull on the bottle and then another. Tina continued to stare. The blush in her cheeks blossomed down her neck, and she licked her lips, leaving them red, succulent and glistening.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Connor.

  Shit, just as things were going so well between the two of them, Connor had to be bought back into the picture. Literally.

  “Tina…” he whispered. Christ, what could he say now? How did he wipe Connor out of her mind?

  She swiveled around and fled from the room.

  Gabe sat frozen, his heart thundering.

  Seconds later she was back, her arms full. “Use them,” she ordered as she dumped the load in front of him. “Any of them. All of them. Don’t care which. Just…use them.”

  Gabe stared at the cache. While his chest burned with pain, his aching cock stood further at attention. Oh, Jesus. Jesus, fuck. For just a second he saw stars.

  He grabbed the vibe closest to him and wrapped his hands around it, imagined fitting it between her legs, slipping it into her wet, hot pussy, and he swallowed.

  “Can’t do it, T.” The words were wrenched from his mouth. “Just not…strong enough.” Not when she wanted Connor there with them.

  She gawked at him, horrified.

  Gabe clenched the vibe tighter, resting the base on the sketch of himself and Connor. “Want you to myself. Won’t share you again.” He’d have to have steel running through his veins and his heart to share her again.

  The horror left her face, replaced by determination—and desire. She cleared her throat. “Make love to me, G.”

  Gabe ground his teeth together and fought back the impulse to dive on her. He shook his head. “Can’t do it, T. Not when you want Connor too.”

  Her lips curved into a shameless smile. A dangerous smile. Her eyes gleamed with… Oh, fuck, with a carnal thirst. “Then don’t move,” she whispered. “Not even one inch.”

  As if he could. His limbs were frozen in despair, his cock hard as the devil.

  With that warning, she began to strip away her clothes. Slowly, sensually, one garment at a time. First, she kicked off her shoes and then she pulled her T-shirt over her head. Her singlet followed, leaving her luscious breasts framed in a white lace bra.

  Gabe stared, heat washing through his stomach.

  She shrugged off her jeans, twisting her hips this way then that to get them down her legs.

  He sat motionless, breathless, until her pants hit the floor. Then he dragged in a harsh breath. Not two meters away, Tina stood in her underwear, her tiny thong matching her bra. Through the lace he could see a small, darkened patch—a tiny triangle of trimmed hair.

  Oh crap. Shit, fuck and shit again. Never mind blue balls. He was gonna have no balls. They’d explode if she took one more item of clothing off.

  She lost her bra.

  A hollow cry filled the room, and Gabe realized it was his. This was the ultimate torture, knowing she performed her little act to seduce him, so he could satisfy the lust she had for him—and his best friend.

  Her thong landed beside his foot, and she stood butt naked before him.

  He closed his eyes and counted to ten, then twenty. He would have counted to a thousand if she let him.

  “Open your eyes, Gabe,” she demanded. Her voice was closer than expected.

  His vision cleared, and he found her right in front of him, her belly by his face. The smell of her arousal was pungent in the air. Or maybe it was his. Christ knew he was dripping pre-come like a horny teenager.

  His mouth opened, his tongue seeking access to the slick folds he knew were hidden between her legs. Holy hell, he was starved for a taste of her.

  “Uh uh,” she warned. “I told you not to move an inch.” Tina leaned over and placed her hand around his. It took a good minute for Gabe to understand her intentions. In his current state of mind, anything other than his jealousy and the all-consuming need to fuck her took way too much logic to comprehend. He loosened his grip, and Tina took the vibe from him.

  She stepped away. One pace, two paces, until he could see her whole body, from top to toe. He saw neither top nor toe. He only saw the vibrator that she held between her breasts. Perhaps held was too convenient a word. The vibrator that she tormented him with as she ran it between her tits and then under them. A soft, electric hum began as she ran the toy over her nipples. They tightened into hard beads, goose bumps popping up over the puckered, dusky pink skin.

  The vibe was smaller than her rabbit. Thinner too, but the vibrations must have been strong for Tina to react like she was.

  If Gabe were a religious man he would have prayed then and there.

  He wasn’t, yet he still sent silent words of reverence upwards.

  Tina’s hand moved downwards.

  Gabe ceased breathing.

  She widened her stance, just enough so the hand with the vibrator in it slipped between her thighs.

  He stared at her, mesmerized, wanting her and despising her. Loving her for being Tina and hating her for wanting Connor.

  “Now watch,” she whispered, and before his eyes she slid the damn thing into her pussy. The toy glided right in, giving Gabe a good indication of how wet she must be.

  Tina moaned out loud, and a massive convulsion wracked Gabe’s body. Holy fuck, he was going to come just watching her.

  No, he wasn’t. If Gabe came, it would be in Tina. Right in the place the vibe was now. Deep, deep in her pussy. And if he came inside her, it would be with a determination to shove every last one of her thoughts about Connor out of her mind.

  He fought for control, punching his knuckles onto the carpeted floor over and over.

  She writhed before him, rotating her hips in a blatant sexual manner.

  Control, goddamn it. He needed control.

  He bit down on his cheek hard, drawing blood. Ironically, that was a handy technique Connor had taught him years ago. It worked just well enough to check his premature ejaculation.

  “Faster,” he ground out.

  Tina paused, as
if surprised by the intrusion of his voice.

  “Move your hand faster,” he demanded.

  She smiled and moved a little faster, panting.

  “Turn the vibe on higher.” Crap, his voice sounded like it had been sandpapered.

  She obeyed, and her eyes glazed over.

  Holy fuck. “Now pull it out.”

  “Noooo,” she objected.

  “Take it out, Tina,” he ordered.

  Slow as she could, she withdrew the toy, pulling it up in front of her hips. It was dripping.

  Gabe almost choked on his compulsion to tackle her to the floor and fuck her senseless.

  “Don’t switch it off,” he rasped. “Use it on your clit.”

  Tina shuddered once, her breasts trembling becomingly. She lurched forward as the vibe made contact with her clit.

  “That’s it, sweetness. Take all the pleasure you can get from it,” he urged.

  For long seconds she held the toy in place, twisting it one way and then the other until she gasped. Her shoulders tightened, and her mouth dropped open.

  “No!”

  She froze.

  “Don’t come like this.” He motioned with his hand. “Slide it back inside your pussy.”

  She looked at him with eyes blazing. Damn, she was close. Gabe could see what it cost her to hold back. Every muscle was drawn taut. Goose bumps spread over each inch of skin.

  Tina slipped the vibe inside her body.

  “Now,” Gabe said, “Imagine that’s me. Imagine that’s my dick. Long, hard and dripping for you.”

  Tina let out a strangled groan.

  “What’s inside you, T?”

  She shook her head.

  “What’s in your pussy, Tina?” he pressed.

  “Y…you are, Gabe,” she stammered, and her eyes drew closed.

  “How do I feel?”

  She moaned. “Good. You feel so very, very…good.”

  He nodded in grim satisfaction. “Good enough to make you come?”

  “God, yes!” The answer exploded from her lips.

  Oh, fuck. She was going to give him a heart attack. “Keep me inside you. Don’t come yet.”