Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)

“It’s kinda sexy.”

Oh God. Was Gabe Renard running his fingers lightly above the top of my ass while he called my tramp stamp sexy? I licked my lips as I couldn’t help letting my mind wander to what it would feel like to have his whole hand on my ass…or maybe having that hand other places.

Dropping my shirt back down, I ended that train of thought. “Enough tattoo gawking. These brownies aren’t going to make themselves.”

After adding in the milk and eggs, Gabe began stirring the mix. When he got a little too overzealous in his ministrations, a cloud of mix flipped out onto his shirt. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Do you need an apron?”

He shot me a look as he grabbed a rag off the counter and rubbed his shirt. “Let me guess, it would be something white and frilly to make me look ridiculous?”

I grinned at him. “Of course. Can you imagine how much money I could make on one of those gossip sites with a picture of you in an apron cooking brownies?”

Gabe returned my smile. “Does this mean I need to be watching my back to make sure you don’t snap an incriminating picture of me?”

“While I might enjoy seeing you somewhat publically humiliated, I would never do that.”

“You would want me humiliated?” Gabe questioned.

Stilling my spoon, I said, “That’s a harsher word than I’m looking for.” I tilted my head in thought. “It’s probably more lik the saying in my family of bringing you down a notch.” When Gabe stared at me blankly, I added, “You know, your ego.”

“I get it.” Once he’d gotten the chocolate powder off his shirt as best he could, Gabe tossed the rag back on the counter. “Man, I must’ve come off as just one more asshole to you.”

“I’m sorry, but yeah, you were.”

“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who was the asshole.”

“I know, but now that I know you better—”

Gabe shook his head. “Just because you know now, that doesn’t excuse my behavior.”

Ah, this was something I hadn’t seen in him before: true repentance. I really appreciated that he was annoyed with how he first treated me. Was all of his cockiness just a fa?ade?

“That’s true. I guess you’re right.” I began stirring the caramels again. “I just wondered how much of your behavior was really bad and how much my view of you is skewed because you’re a musician.” Were you real then, or am I seeing the real you now?

Gabe leaned back against the counter. “I’d have to say after what you’ve experienced, you’re very justified to feel the way you do.”

“Well, because of those feelings, I might have been a little harsher on you than I had to be, at least that morning at the shop.” I grinned at him. “I’m fairly certain you deserved everything I gave you that day in the woods.”

Gabe smiled. “I probably did.”

I moved around him to grease the baking pans. When I finished, Gabe held out his hand. At what must’ve been my questioning look, he said, “I’ll pour.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Taking the large bowl of gooey chocolate in one of his hands, Gabe then poured mix into the two baking pans. After I smoothed it out with the spatula, I took them over to the oven.

“There. In just twenty to twenty-five minutes, I’ll have baked my way into Linc’s heart.”

With a laugh, Gabe said, “You mothers are all the same, appealing to us through our love of food.”

“Can you think of a better way?”

Tilting his head, Gabe replied, “Probably not.”

“I rest my case.” After eyeing the pile of dirty dishes, I groaned. “Now for the worst part of baking: cleanup.”

“I’ll help, and it’ll go fast.”

I shook my head. “Very impressive, Mr. Renard. Not only did you do most of the baking, now you’re offering to clean, too.”

Gabe grinned. “I just enjoy disproving your opinion of me.”

“My opinion of you is certainly a work in progress.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

We began working in perfect sync with Gabe washing the dishes and me doing the drying. When he picked up the mixing bowl, he paused. “Do you want to lick the spoon?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

As my tongue darted out, Gabe’s eyes flared. Electricity crackled through my body, causing the hairs on my arms to rise. Time crawled by as we stood there staring at each other.

Gabe broke the silence by saying, “Fuck it.” Tossing the spoon to the counter, he then reached out and jerked me to him.

“What are you—”

Gabe crushed his lips against mine, causing me to moan. His kiss was a combination of tenderness and insistence. His mouth moved against mine almost with desperation. Sweet Jesus, the man could kiss. He was even better at it in real life than he was in my dream. It didn’t seem fair that he should be so good at so many things.

As Gabe plunged his tongue into my mouth, his hand slid around my ribcage to cup my breast and my nipple immediately hardened under his touch. He continued kneading my breast while his thumb brushed back and forth over my nipple, which drove me absolutely wild.

Then, as suddenly as it had all started, it stopped. Gabe jerked away from me, his wild gaze meeting mine as he jerked a hand through his hair. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing. Before he could say anything, I leapt back at him, fusing my lips to his.

After knocking the leftover ingredients to the ground, Gabe grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up onto the counter. “Too many clothes,” he muttered as he eyed my chest.

Since I completely agreed with him, I grasped the hem of my t-shirt and quickly ripped it over my head then tossed it to the ground. Gabe’s greedy hands jerked my bra straps down, freeing my breasts. He licked his lips before his mouth closed over one of my rock-hard nipples. “Mm, yes,” I muttered as I pinched my eyes shut.

As Gabe’s teeth grazed my nipple, his other hand came between my legs. Through my jeans, he rubbed the heel of his hand against my pussy. With a moan, I threw my head back. God, it felt so good have his hands on me. I began arching my hips to get more friction. When it wasn’t enough, I murmured, “Please.”

Gabe replied by unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. He pulled them down from under my butt…so easily. His hand dove into my panties and worked its way down to my pussy. When his fingers touched my clit, I once again cried out. As Gabe sucked my nipple into his mouth, he thrust one finger deep inside me. “Hmm, yes, more,” I pleaded.

He obliged by sticking another finger into my pussy. Biting down on my lip, I rocked against his hand. His mouth and his fingers felt just as good as they had in my sex dream. When Gabe pulled his fingers out of me, I groaned in frustration. “I want to fuck you with my tongue,” he said. Um, okay. He certainly wasn’t going to get an argument out of me with that one.