Rock Kiss 02 Rock Hard(68)

She lifted a finger to her mouth and sucked on it, her cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck!” He got up, was halfway around the counter before he realized she hadn’t moved, finger no longer in her mouth. Forcing himself to stop, he thrust his hands into his hair. “Pancakes,” he said. “I’ll have you later.”

She returned to the cooktop, but her actions were jerky. He could’ve left it, but that wasn’t who he was; walking back to his seat, he ate a few of the chocolate chips she’d bought when they picked up the fruit. “Was it how fast I moved?”

Her shoulders went stiff, but she nodded.

“So,” he said, staying in position when his instinct was to go over there and stroke his hands down the smooth warmth of her arms, kiss a line up the curve of her neck, “if I walk around the counter and slide down one of the straps of your dress and press my lips to your shoulder, what happens?”

“I… I d-don’t know.” She poured in batter for a pancake.

He waited until she flipped it onto a plate before getting up. He expected her to turn, and she did, just enough that she could see him. Maintaining eye contact, he came close enough that her shoulder brushed his chest.

“You have such pretty skin, Charlotte,” he said, running his fingers down her arm. “So soft and golden.”

He drew his palm back up her arm, tugged on the strap. He could see her pulse skittering in her throat, but she hadn’t gone motionless like a small animal in front of a predator. Senses on alert for any change, he bent down and did exactly as he’d said—he pressed his lips to her skin and licked out. Just a little. Just enough to make her jump.

Smiling, he broke the kiss and blew on the spot.

She shivered.

So he scraped his teeth over her before kissing her again.

A tiny whimper escaped her throat.

With any other woman, he’d have curved his hands around her front, cupped and squeezed her breasts as he got serious, his mouth ravenous on her neck, but Charlotte needed him to go slow.

Slow could be fun, he told his rigid cock, and tugged the strap back into place.




CHARLOTTE COULD FEEL GABRIEL’S kiss long after he returned to his seat. His mouth, his tongue… She shivered again, unable to imagine how she’d bear it if he ever kissed her as intimately as he’d described the first time she’d been in his kitchen.

“Don’t forget the chocolate chips for yours.”

His voice made her toes curl, her nipples already throbbing points. “Thanks,” she managed, and turned to shake some into the rest of the batter, and a few minutes later, the two of them were feasting on pancakes.

Instead of the awkward, painful morning she’d expected, she spent it bathed in sunshine while Gabriel sat across from her. There was some outrageous flirting, but they also talked about a couple of work matters. “We should go in, do the paperwork,” she said, knowing exactly how much time he’d sliced out of his schedule for her. “Otherwise you won’t have time to breathe tomorrow.”

“Excellent. You can tell my mother I took you to work for our date.”

A date. The sound of that made her smile widen. “It’ll only take a couple of hours.”

Gabriel looked at her, a tenderness in his expression that made her hurt in a sweet, wonderful way. “I have something for you,” he said, to her surprise. “I’ve had it for a while. I don’t know if today’s the right day to give it to you, but I want to.”

Charlotte squirmed on the breakfast stool, filled with curiosity as he disappeared upstairs. When he came back down, she couldn’t see anything obvious, though one of his hands was loosely fisted. Coming around the counter, he took her wrist; she bit down on her lower lip… and then she was scowling.

“I don’t want a used bracelet!” Outraged, she tried to wrench back her hand.

It was the bracelet he’d made her choose in Queenstown after dragging her around all the high-end stores. Now he had the nerve to laugh and hook the platinum, emerald, and diamond piece around her wrist.

“How many women do you know who have wrists this slender?”

Still scowling at his audacity, especially given how much she’d loved this piece—the design a delicacy of flowers and exquisitely shaped leaves—she said, “Statistically, at least a number of the women you dated.”

“So suspicious.” Flicking his thumb against the little oval platinum tag near the clasp, he said, “Good thing I got this.”

Looking down, she felt her heart slam into her ribs. It was inscribed to Ms. Baird. “Ms. Baird?” she said, a little teary.

“My Ms. Baird.”