Lolly moved her mouth, tasted the wet skin of his neck and inhaled his heat. His breathing changed; his body shifted, but not away from her. He moved closer, deeper into her, and nothing had ever felt so right.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice gruff and steady and soothing.
“Better.” She was wonderfully warm, wonderfully lethargic. They did need to get dried and dressed, but not just yet. She kissed his neck again. “You?”
“Yeah. Better.” He paused. “Uh—Lollipop …”
She smiled, hidden against his shoulder. “I’m on to you, now. You’re just trying to make me mad, calling me that,” she said without heat.
“Well, yeah. That was always the point,” he said, as if that were obvious.
“I had a terrible crush on you.” She would never have admitted that before, she would have been mortified if he’d ever suspected … and now it didn’t matter.
He pulled his head back a little, looking down at her. “No shit?” He sounded pleased. “You didn’t act like it.”
“Of course not. I was a teenage girl. I’d have died rather than let you know.” Thank God those years were behind her; no way would she ever want to relive the angst and raging hormones, the excruciating insecurity.
“I liked fighting with you,” he admitted, his own mouth quirking in a little smile. “It got me going.”
Men, she thought. They couldn’t be the same species. She sighed, so content she could barely move. In that moment, everything was all right; with Gabriel inside her, with the flush of pleasure still fresh, she was content.
He stirred, reluctantly separating their bodies, and she let him. Her legs unlocked from around him, her thighs sliding down his until her feet once more touched the floor. He tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “Are you on the pill?” His voice rumbled in his chest, deep and gruff.
She couldn’t help smiling. “It’s a little late for that question, isn’t it? But the answer is, yes, I am.”
“That’s good.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “We can do this again.”
“Right now?” she asked, startled, and he laughed.
“Fifteen years ago, yeah, but now it’ll take me a couple of hours to recover. Come on, let’s get dry.”
Her legs weren’t quite steady, but she felt much better, almost normal. She felt a bit self-conscious at being naked in front of him, which was a little silly at this point, but her cheeks heated as she stepped out of the shower and quickly headed for the linen closet, where she grabbed two towels. She tossed one to him and briskly began drying herself, standing close by the wall heater.
“I have a few cans of soup in the kitchen,” she said, trying to sound as normal as possible.
“Sounds good to me.” Gabriel scrubbed the towel over his hair, then paused to glance at the cold, wet clothes on the floor. “I don’t suppose your dad left any clothes behind.”
“No,” she said. “They cleared all their personal items out a couple of years ago.” Then she laughed. “He’s six inches shorter than you, and his waist is probably ten inches thicker. I don’t think any of his clothes would have fit you, anyway. We’ll hang your clothes in front of one of the fireplaces; they should be dry by morning.”
“Great.” His voice rumbled. “Guess I’ll be bare-assed naked until then.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, and smiled at him. “But we have blankets, several wall heaters, a couple of gas fireplaces, plenty of candles, and those cans of soup I told you about. I have some instant coffee, too.”
His eyes lit at the mention of coffee, even instant coffee. “That’ll do.”
“I’m starving,” Lolly said, realizing as she spoke how true those words were. She also realized that she wouldn’t mind if she and Gabriel were stuck here for a few days. After what had just happened in the shower, so quickly and naturally that she’d barely had time to think, she didn’t wonder at all how they’d pass the time.
Life took some astonishing turns, she thought. She never could have anticipated this, never thought she’d be so comfortable with him, or that making love with him, of all people, would feel so right.
Good Lord. Gabriel McQueen.
Chapter Eleven
Niki huddled on the floor in a dark corner of the kitchen, listening to the water running upstairs as she tried to force herself to throw off the chill. She strained to hear more. It wasn’t certain that Lorelei and the big guy would be together, though it was likely. One of them might be in the living room, in another room upstairs … right around the corner.
Did they know she was here? Had they heard her?
In their earlier exploration of the house, before everything had gone to shit, Darwin had checked out the mud room and the back porch for portable stuff they could pawn, when the money they got from the Helton woman ran low. He hadn’t found shit, naturally, but at the moment that didn’t matter. What mattered, what she’d counted on as she’d crawled up an icy slope and made feverish plans for the night, was that he hadn’t bothered to relock the door when he’d come back in. She’d entered the dark house through the back door, into the mud room, into the kitchen, cold and shaking and hurting all over. She’d felt her way to this corner, cowering and listening. That’s when she’d first heard the water running and realized that at least one of them was upstairs.
The water stopped, and a moment later she heard faint voices, two of them. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but those voices assured her that no one was waiting around the corner; they were both upstairs. Relief washed through her; she could breathe again. She could think.