And here was Gabe. The man was a force of nature, so completely different as to make any other man she knew pale in comparison. Overthinking could be impossible with him. Mostly because he was capable of derailing any thought process simply by standing there, or sitting next to her, or brushing near her.
And that sounded perfect.
She patted herself dry, her hair still damp and falling loose down her back. Then she wrapped her towel around her torso and stepped out of the bathroom, careful to close the door behind her to keep the steam in with the hung clothes. Padding across the carpet, she opened the door to the bedroom before she reconsidered what she was about to do.
The whole point was not to.
“Did you need anything?” Gabe stood facing away from her by the sofa bed, having pulled it out and made it up.
Yes, please help me stop thinking.
But she couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t figure out how not to sound like an idiot. And couldn’t stop staring at him. The muscles across his back flexed as he moved, showing through his thin T-shirt. Broad shoulders, strong arms. She remembered having those arms close around her, carry her, support her. And she wanted more.
What the heck was she supposed to say? If she hesitated much longer, she’d hide in the bedroom and not come out again until it was time to go. And the whole point was to not think at all. Change direction. Do something different. “Need might not be the right word.”
Gabe turned toward her then, caught sight of her and froze.
But he didn’t say anything.
Taking a few steps toward him, she came to a stop, her gaze glued to his chest. She couldn’t quite manage looking him in the eye yet. But she took the leap anyway. “You don’t have to leave your stuff out here. I mean, you could...join me, if you want.”
There. She’d said it.
Please don’t let this turn into one of those things I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.
*
Gabe put comprehension on hold for half a second. All he could process was the sheen of golden skin wrapped in nothing but a hotel towel. His libido had barely been restrained while he’d been imagining water running down her skin as she’d been showering. Now his pants were painfully tight and she stood too close for her own safety. He balled his hands into fists. He couldn’t help looking, though, following the curve of her bared shoulder up to the place where it met her neck, exposed while her hair was slicked back and still wet. He wanted to lick her shower-fresh skin, kiss and bite her—right there. Her face was even more defined with her hair back, her lips a perfect kissable bow shape and her dark eyes hidden under delicate lashes as she kept staring stubbornly down or to the side or anywhere but at him.
Join me, if you want.
Those words were an invitation. And to hell with his earlier intention to keep things simple, he wanted to take her up on them. Hours of watching her doze fitfully on the plane had wound him up tight with a mix of concern and desire. On his recommendation, she’d come with him across the damned country. Every step of the way, she’d absorbed his instructions and asked intelligent questions.
She was stepping up in every way and it only made him want her more.
But he’d misunderstood her the first time they’d met, so he didn’t want to mess up again. Her looking down and away wasn’t what he wanted.
He reached out, insanely glad when she didn’t flinch but instead seemed to lean into even the slightest touch of his forefinger under her chin. Exerting gentle pressure, he coaxed her to look up at him. When the full force of her gaze hit him, a cacophony of nervousness and determination and desire, he almost took her mouth right there. But he had to be sure he was reading her right. “Are you inviting me to have sex?”
Her cheeks flushed with heat and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Yes.”
Instant erection. Actually, he’d already been straining inside his pants but he was about to bust his fly open at this point. He’d better act fast. He could see doubt and second-guesses piling up in her eyes and she was starting to pull away from him. Nothing else he was going to say was going to come out right.
He kissed her.
She parted her lips for him. He tasted, explored, as her tongue danced with his. God, he’d wanted this. Craved the taste of her again ever since he’d kissed her the first time.
Her needy whimper set him on fire. He gripped the nape of her neck, deepening their kisses, and kept his other hand at the curve of her back to hold her against him. She was warm, pliant, molding her body against his. He wanted to rip the towel away and explore every inch of her, but damn it, she’d started this and he didn’t want to rush her into changing her mind. This had to be her lead.
The level of control it was requiring might kill him.
Letting them both up for air, he tried for words. Communication was good. Important. “I agreed to help you. Don’t do this if you think it’s some kind of payment.”
He didn’t want her lowering herself to that.