Instead, she kissed my chest, wrapped her arm over me more tightly. “I liked it. A lot. And I’m glad we shared that experience.”
My heart thumped wildly against my rib cage. She understood. Good. I’d hoped she knew how much it meant to me, that she trusted me with the most private parts of her, but it wasn’t even that she was willing or trusting, it was how vibrant she was, how much she enjoyed everything we did.
Beneath the soft brushes of her hand, coupled with the memories, my dick started to harden and I shoved a hand beneath the covers to cover myself. “We need to get out of this bed before I take you again.” She had me harder faster, more often than I’d remembered being in years. “I think both our bodies need a rest.”
“Yeah.” She laughed softly, her warm breath skating over my skin. “That’s probably a good idea.” She stretched and groaned, flinched in pain and then faced me. “I’m going to need to start working out to be able to handle all your stamina.”
“Get up.” I laughed. “If we don’t get out of this bed, I won’t be taking you out for dinner. I’ll be eating in instead.”
I let that linger, eyes heating with my thoughts until Gabby laughed and climbed off me, jumping out of bed with another cringe.
I’d feel bad for hurting her, for making her sore—but I kept thinking of how she came when I had my fingers lodged in her ass.
What would it be like if she allowed all of me there?
I grabbed my dick and squeezed, painfully so. Seriously, when was the last time I thought about sex this much? I might have been in my prime, but I’d never felt this desperate desire for someone—couldn’t ever remember this intense feeling even with Lenora.
“I’m going to shower,” Gabby said, standing naked at the edge of the bed, completely confident in how my gaze trailed over her body. “Want to join me this time?”
Hell yes I did. Absolutely.
I took a sip of my old-fashioned, while across from me at The Grille, the restaurant Gabby had ended up deciding on, she scanned the menu. She’d taken time after our shower to do her hair, curl it, and put on makeup. I’d become so used to seeing her beautiful when she was natural, the effect of her all done up and wearing a sexy, skimpy little black dress and heels almost undid me.
She looked how she’d done the night we were married, the night I’d sat next to her at dinner and put a stop to her mom’s questioning. It was no wonder why I wanted to marry her that night.
She was sinfully beautiful, mouthwateringly sexy all done up, but I now knew she was even more perfect without any of it. She carried herself with a grace, even while perusing the menu, tapping her freshly painted fingernails to the stem of her wineglass.
I could have stared at her all day and never once grown bored. I discovered something new every time. Tonight, there was the faintest purple mark at the base of her neck—caused by me in the shower when she’d wrapped her hand around my hard dick and gotten me off while insisting she was too sore for me to return the favor. She’d dropped to her knees, right before I came, opened her mouth and took all of me like she craved it as much as I was craving the taste of her.
I’d hauled her back to her feet, slammed my mouth to her and kissed her so passionately, all over, I’d left more than one bruised marking.
I didn’t even give a shit. Hickeys should stop being cool in high school but I liked the fact she not only didn’t cover my mark, but I swore she kept draping her hair off her shoulder in order to show it off more. More than once, I‘d caught her running her finger over that area, grinning at me like she was definitely remembering me leaving it.
Fun, yes. My wife was made for me, perfect for me in every way. And I knew so little about her.
She glanced at me, caught sight of where I’d been staring and a slow grin curled her lips at the corner. “You’re awfully proud of yourself for this, aren’t you?”
“I’m proud to be the man who gets to sit across from you, enjoying your company.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. I wouldn’t take it back. From this day on, I wanted her to know everything I felt for her, all the time, so there was never a doubt in her mind that when it came to us, this marriage—I was all in. Not because I didn’t want to be twice divorced before I was twenty-seven, but because I wanted this with her.
“Joey—” she rasped, and then stopped, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m happy to be here with you too, you know. And it’s because you’re you, not some hockey player or anything.” She blinked rapidly several times, like she was embarrassed, or said the wrong thing and I went to ask her about it, but she continued. “I just think you should know that. That I like you and it has nothing to do with your money or anything like that.”
“Thank you, but for the record, I never considered anything else. It’s nice to hear though.”
“Good.” She flashed a tentative smile and went back to the menu.
My tongue burned to ask where that came from, but as our waiter strolled to the table and we placed our orders, I let that go. I knew there were women out there who chased professional athletes for their money, for potential fame or whatever, but to be honest, most of the guys I’d met in pro sports had met their wives in high school or college. Before we became famous. The vast majority were more firmly planted with morals and ethics than I think people imagined.
I’d known Gabby’s family too long to think she’d be anything different. Knew her so much better now, but still not enough.
Once the waiter left, I took another sip of my drink and leaned my forearms on the table. “If you could do anything in your life, professionally, would you change or do anything different?”
I knew she did hair. Based on how she could make herself up, I had no doubt she was successful. But I’d never fully learned why she’d been in Vegas for so long.
She sipped her wine, smiling around the rim of her glass. “No one’s ever asked me that.”
I raised my brows, waiting.
“No.” She shook her head. “I love my job. I love taking care of women, making them feel beautiful. I don’t provide a service that people dread going to, but it’s the highlight of their week, month sometimes. I get to make them feel like the most special woman in the world and I think a lot of women, moms especially, don’t take enough time for themselves, so it’s my honor when they trust me to do it.”
“I’d never thought of it like that.” And yet, I was stunned at her truth of it. I suppose she was right. Lenora had always had a bounce in her step when she returned from the salon. Like she felt freer. I’d never quite understood why until then. “So are you working in Seattle? Because…”
“No. I was pretty much forced to quit shortly before I came to Vegas.”
“Why?”
She sighed, ran her fingernail along the stem of her wineglass. “It’s a long story but mostly it was simply due to construction. The road around where I’d been working had been under construction for so long we lost foot traffic, clients who were traveling into the city to see me started finding parking difficult. We lost a lot of business and the construction kept getting pushed back. Eventually, the owner decided to close, look into moving until it was done but that would have meant for me, losing even more clients, so I told them all I was leaving and I’d let them know where I landed.”