Go For It Page 22

  Gretchen’s father might not have wanted anything to do with his daughter, but his mother had welcomed Gretchen with open arms. She’d never forgotten that, never felt like an imposition and when the elderly woman had become ill, Gretchen had stepped in to make her remaining years as comfortable as possible.

  “Who’s Harold?” Gretchen asked, instantly regretting it. She knew better than to get her mother going.

  “My new husband. Didn’t you get the postcard? Oh dear, did I forget to send it?” How her mother managed to pull off that worried-mom look so well, Gretchen didn’t know. Then her gaze dropped to the shopping bag clutched in Gretchen’s hand. Anxiety ricocheted through her body.

  “Ohhh...you’ve been shopping!” One of Clarise Mascoe’s favorite past times and yet she’d rarely taken her daughters with her. “Let me see.”

  She wrenched the bag away before Gretchen could stop her.

  “Lingerie?” Her mother’s brown eyes locked with Gretchen’s. Gretchen reached for the bag just as her mother pulled out the red bra.

  “Mother!”

  “Oh, Greg, you lucky devil,” her mother cooed and then giggled up at him.

  Gretchen snatched the bra back and stuffed it back in the bag. She felt the heat of a blush scorching her cheeks and refused to look at Greg. God, what must he think? This scene was straight out of a nightmare.

  “But between you and me,” her mother continued in a false whisper, “lose another thirty pounds and I’ll send you some of my old La Perla.”

  “Did you really just say that?” The words tumbled from Gretchen’s lips.

  “What? La Perla is expensive and I know you’re on a budget, sweetie.”

  A twig of patience she’d never realized had been holding on broke under the weight of her disgust. What little hope she’d had left of becoming close to the mother who’d given birth to her dried up.

  “I don’t want your old lingerie, I don’t care how expensive it is.”

  Her voice echoed off the walls and she realized that had come out much louder than she’d intended.

  “No need to get upset, honey. I was just being nice.”

  “In that same vein,” Gretchen said, “it’s time for you to go.”

  “But what about dinner? I was looking forward to catching up.” Her mother glanced up at Greg and gave him a smile that had seduced many a lesser man.

  “Unfortunately,” Greg’s voice filled the room and her mother stopped grinning. Gretchen couldn’t resist looking his way. He stood tall, shoulders back, angled toward her giving no hint that his body was anything less than one hundred percent. “We’re going to have to pass. Gretchen and I have plans.”

  Clarise Mascoe’s eyebrows lifted in astonishment and Gretchen figured her expression mirrored her mother’s.

  “But–”

  “How long have you been in town?” Gretchen asked.

  “Not long, a few days. Why?”

  “Perhaps you should have called–”

  “I did!” Her mother interrupted.

  “And left a message rather than showing up.”

  “Oh, Gretchen, don’t be like that.” Her mother glanced nervously at Greg. “Look, I know I wasn’t always there for you but I’m trying to change.”

  “Then change. Don’t try. Don’t walk into my house and tease me. Don’t insult my weight or remind me what a little makeup could do. Call. Show up when you say you will. But if you can’t do that, if you can’t be that kind of mother then please don’t bother me or Annie again.”

  The words seeped out of her, each one filled with anguish and years of pain. The exit of emotion left her weak but proud. And the whole time, Greg kept a tight hold around her waist, supporting her when her knees would have buckled.

  “If I leave now you’ll never see a dime of my money,” her mother spat the words.

  “It’s not your money! It’s your husbands. Besides it was never your money that I wanted, mom.”

  There was a single second of pause where her mother seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Well, what did you want?” she asked, her tone haughty and the Texan accent gone.

  Gretchen wanted to scream. But screaming at thirty seemed extra juvenile so she held it in. “Family dinners. Stability. A mother who didn’t use her daughter to snag a rich husband, who didn’t come home drunk more often than not.”

  “I did not use you–”

  “Then what would you call it? When you were around, you were either drunk or sleeping off a hangover. And when you did take me shopping it was for a fancy dress we couldn’t afford so I’d fit in with your yacht club friends. Here’s a newsflash mom, those guys didn’t want a readymade family.”

  “Well,” her mother said, gathering her purse, “you’re absolutely right about that. I’ve had much better luck since you girls grew up.”

  “Really? Because I remember raising Annie like she was my own.”

  There was a flash of pain on her mother’s face and Gretchen realized that her mom had thought she was doing what was best. Finding a rich husband had been her idea of how to take care of her children.

  The lines around her eyes and lips were evidence that while the years had been kind to her mom; they’d also worn on her. Gretchen almost regretted her words. Almost.

  But as she always did, her mother rallied, pulled her shoulders back and tipped her chin up. “It was nice meeting you Greg.”

  “Likewise.”

  Without a goodbye her mother strode out the front door. Gretchen held her breath until she heard the sound of her mother’s car engine fade down the street. She exhaled, wilting under the heat of the confrontation. It’d been such a long time in coming and it was Greg’s support that had given her the backbone to stand up for herself.

  He turned her in his arms and she clung to him.

  “Now do you see why I loved your mom so much?”

  “I see why you’re such an incredible woman,” he murmured.

  She closed her eyes and nestled closer as relief slowly replaced the anguish. Her mother was gone. And as hard and emotionally draining as it’d been, Gretchen had finally said her peace. Greg’s words were a soothing balm over raw nerves and she’d never appreciated anyone more than she did him in that moment. “My grandmother was a good role model.”

  He rocked her gently, his hold around her waist nice and tight. She didn’t want to move, to lose the connection with him. Did he feel it? Did he know how much his support meant to her?

  She tipped her head back and stared up into concerned blue eyes. His gaze dipped to her lips and his hands slid down her back, pulling her hips against his.

  “Sorry,” he murmured immediately and loosened his grip, then returned his hands to the small of her back.

  “Don’t apologize.” What she really meant was ‘don’t stop!’

  The corner of his mouth kicked up into a grin that melted the tension away.

  “With the exception of you picking me up at the hospital, I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see someone.”

  Even though he smiled as he spoke, she could have died of embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was coming.” Gretchen tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her.

  “It’s fine. She was only here for about five minutes before you showed up.”

  She dropped her chin. “She’s always been a walking, talking hormone. It never occurred to me that she’d hit on someone so much younger. And unavailable to boot. Not that that’s ever really stopped her either. She was always trolling for her next husband and almost divorced men seemed extra appealing. I swear, I don’t even know why she showed up. She should have called. I would have told her not to bother coming over. That makes me sound like an awful daughter, doesn’t it?”

  She was babbling. Knowing it didn’t slow her down. She was still slightly embarrassed about claiming she and Greg were an item. Add to that the fact that Greg’s arousal wasn’t something she could miss when he was holding her so c
lose and, well, it short-circuited her brain. But not her mouth; which she couldn’t seem to control.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that we’re together, but she thought so. What kind of–”

  “Gretchen…”

  The tone of his voice was so sharp, so deep, so domineering that it pierced the bubble of lust surrounding her.

  “Hmm?” Her gaze snapped up to meet his. The desire she saw reflected there sent a rush of moisture between her thighs.

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Her jaw dropped just as he’d known it would. There was just something about pushing this woman’s buttons. And that mouth…gorgeous and plump, just waiting to be kissed. He remembered being distracted by her lips the first time they’d met. She’d been dating some guy at that point and all lusty thoughts about his sister’s friend had been off.

  That was probably a good thing since he’d been thinking with the wrong head back then.

  Her right hand slid up his chest, over his shoulder and into his hair and her eye lashes fluttered closed. His chest puffed at her touch. Damn she was pretty, with the most radiant skin he’d ever seen.

  He studied her for a moment longer, knowing that as soon as he gave in to the urge, he wouldn’t come up for air for a while. But he also knew that Gretchen doubted how lovely she was and he didn’t want her second-guessing his attraction. So he used the edge of his index finger to tip her chin up a little higher and then stole the kiss he’d been daydreaming about all day.

  She smelled like flowers, as if she’d been up to her elbows in rose petals. Her lips parted on a sigh. He felt the same way: breathless, amazed, connected. When he ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip she groaned and tightened her hold on his hair. A groan of his own rumbled from his chest at the sharp bite of pain. As if the sound had unleashed something inside her, her hips shifted against his, undulating in a motion that stole his breath, pinning his erection between them.

  She sucked his tongue into the heat of her mouth and pleasure shot through him. The vixen. If he hadn’t already been hard as a damn rock that little maneuver would have taken him from zero to sixty in a heartbeat.

  She did it again. He groaned into her mouth and took a step toward the hallway. She tore her lips from his, her eyes wide and wild.

  “Your leg...” Her voice echoed in the empty hallway, but he kept moving toward her bedroom. The concern in her voice almost undid his self-control, what little he had left.

  She tugged his hand and he paused, glancing back at her.

  “My leg is fine,” he replied, his tone sincere. “Even if it wasn’t, I’d find a way to have you.”

  “Oh yeah?” she said shyly, a whisper of a smile teasing her lips. There were stars in her eyes and something else, an emotion he couldn’t put his finger on.

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling her the rest of the way into her bedroom. At least he was going to have her back in his arms, back in her bed with him. He didn’t plan to let her out until morning. “I want you more than I want one of your cookies.”

  She laughed. “That’s high praise. I know how much you like my cookies.”

  “I adore your cookies.”

  “Greg?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Smart woman. He shut the door behind her and jerked her back into his arms. This time she shut her eyes and kissed him. There wasn’t a hint of reservation in the liplock. She moved against him, with him, hands touching him everywhere.

  He loved that she took up right where they’d left off. He loved the soft sounds coming from her throat. But most of all, he loved the way she came alive in his arms, as if she’d been waiting her whole life to be with him.

  He slid his hands down to cup her rear. She was wearing too many clothes. Most days he found her buttoned up look the ultimate tease but right now he wanted nothing between them; nothing but the finest sheen of sweat.

  Her fingertips slipped beneath his shirt and roamed his back. He jerked his shirt over his head, thankful that his shoulders were no longer bothering him. Then he flicked open the button of his jeans but her hands took over unzipping him. He nibbled his way down her jaw as he worked the buttons of her blouse. As soon as the last one was undone he pushed the edges over her shoulders and down, trapping her arms.

  Leaning back, his eyes drank her in. The simple white bra with the sheer poka dotted trim hinted at what lay beneath. Her nipples poked at the fabric and his mouth actually watered. Damn, she was sexy.

  “Greg–” Her voice was shy and he realized she was half a second away from trying to cover herself.

  “Stop.” He kissed her again and finished taking off her shirt. Without a second to lose he slid his hands up her back and released the clasp of her bra. A soft sigh breezed by his ear.

  She’d stopped touching him. Was she having second thoughts? She didn’t look like she was having second thoughts; in fact, she looked like she was in a state of ecstasy.

  He took her hands and positioned them on his hips, eager to feel those cool fingertips against his scorching skin.

  “You,” he said, pulling the bra down her arms and tossing it over his shoulder, “are–”

  He kissed her nose, then each eyelid before moving back to her mouth. His hands hovered beneath the curve of her breasts; aching to cup them, to tease those hardened peaks.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered against her lips.

  His words had the desired affect and she moaned. Without missing a beat, she shoved at his jeans and he pushed her skirt and her panties down her hips.

  They tumbled onto the bed together, a heap of tangled limbs. Her fingers threaded through his hair as he suckled one nipple and then moved to the next. The streetlight filtering through the gauzy curtains gave him his first good look at her.

  “Remember that trip to the Keys our senior year?” he murmured and then kissed his way down her belly.

  “Mmm huh.”

  “That red polka dot swim suit?”

  There was a beat of silence and her fingers relaxed against his scalp. “Yeah.”

  He glanced up and held her gaze. “Smoking hot.”

  Her eyes widened for just a second and then she started to retreat. He saw her close up. Felt her relaxing, almost sinking away from him.

  But he wasn’t going to let her. “What’s put that look in your eyes?”

  He kissed his way north and let his hands do the talking. She arced beneath his touch and when he flicked his thumb over her left nipple she gasped again.

  He liked that her breasts were sensitive and planned on using that to his advantage.

  “Tell me, sweetheart.”

  “I just–I’ve–”

  She struggled to find words and it bolstered his ego knowing that that his touch did that to her. The frantic look in her eyes and the adorable way she nibbled her lower lip cemented his decision. They could talk about that red bathing suit later.

  He kissed her, long and deep. Tongue thrusting into her mouth, he left nothing to the imagination. He poured everything he was feeling, every ounce of desire, every thread of need into the kiss, willing her to know how much he wanted her.

  As lovely and pink as those nipples were, he trailed his hand back to the juncture of her thighs. Her grip tightened on his hair as he slid his finger through the tangle of curls and found her wet and oh-so-responsive. At the first brush of his fingers, her thighs parted and when he slid a finger inside, she lifted her hips.

  Holy hell.

  A fresh surge of blood flooded his cock and he thrust against her, unable to help himself.

  Her hand left his hair and trailed south to cup his jaw. The delicate little sounds delighted his ears, as did the rhythmic thrust of her hips. Her upper body pressed against his, straining. Did she have any idea how amazing she was, how on edge she had him? Damn, he wanted inside her. Needed to feel her wetness coating him, seducing him one thrust at a time.

  Her hand slid
down his chest slowly, as if she was memorizing every inch. His gut clinched, anticipation slicking his shoulders with sweat. Yes. Just a little closer, sweetheart.

  Her hand closed around his cock and he groaned. One tight squeeze and then a gentle stroke had him thrusting against her hand. She sucked on his tongue and he almost came right then and there.

  Need.

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. She let out an adorable little squeak and braced her hands against the pillow beneath his head.

  “I don’t want to hurt you–” she said between kisses.

  He liked that she was a kisser. Nothing got him harder than a good long lip lock. Except, maybe, a different type of kissing.

  “The only thing that could hurt me would be if you stopped,” he said and grazed his teeth down her chin before nibbling his way along her jaw to the tender skin of her throat.

  She shivered against him and then pulled back to stare at him for a long moment.

  “You say the best things.”

  Her lips found his again in a kiss of thanks and adoration as she slid along the length of his cock. Each kiss was hotter than the last and he wondered where the vixen in his arms had come from. He touched her everywhere, memorizing every curve, every inch of velvety soft skin.

  She must use lotion every day from head to toe. It was the only thing he could think of as he smoothed his hands over her thighs and up her hips. She kissed her way down his collarbone and nipped his chest. He sucked in a breath and let his hands roam up the soft curve of her belly to her breasts. The lush swells were heavy, overflowing in his hands.

  “You are the best medicine. If I could bottle you up I’d be a billionaire.”

  She paused just above his navel, the dark curtain of her hair tickling his skin. “Is that right?”

  “No,” he admitted staring into her lovely brown eyes. “I plan to keep you all to myself.”