Read Online All the Way by Jennifer Probst - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Probst
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sleep.
“It was never just sex. I loved you.”
…
Gavin stared into the dancing flames and whispered the words to the woman beside him. “It was never just sex. I loved you.” He gave a soft laugh. “I convinced myself it was only an affair, but every time I held you in my arms, I felt whole. No other woman has been able to make me feel complete. I don’t think any other woman ever will.”
He waited for her response, but only the sounds of snapping logs broke the silence. He dragged in a lungful of air and decided to turn around. Maybe if he looked into her eyes when he said the words, she’d finally believe him. Maybe he’s see a gleam of surrender and know there was a chance. Maybe—
He gazed into her face.
She was asleep.
He blinked. No fucking way. His big confession caused the woman to fall into slumber.
Gavin half groaned at the irony. Why was he surprised? Even sleeping, the woman drove him crazy. He ran a finger down her cheek. Warm, satiny skin. Her strawberries and cream scent drifted around him and caused an instant erection. He shifted as the primitive need to plunge between her thighs took fierce hold. God, he wanted her. Wanted to taste every inch of her skin, bring those animal sounds of pleasure to her lips, and bury himself deep inside her tight, clinging heat.
He’d never been able to keep his hands off her. He’d never had a problem controlling his lust before, or even the basic need to hear her voice and touch her. But nothing could happen until he regained one basic block of foundation.
Trust.
He needed to get his lady to trust him again, and that required keeping his hands off her. At least, for a while. Two weeks. Maybe one.
Ah, hell, he’d barely last another twenty-four hours.
The inner voice mocked his thoughts.
What will happen when your time is up?
He dragged in a breath. He never intended on staying. He had commitments to a company who’d given him a chance to make his dreams come true. Yet, the woman who’d haunted his memories and dreams was here in New York. And lately, he felt more comfortable wearing a waiter’s uniform than a Prada suit.
It was as if a fork in the road opened before him. He ached to claim her again. Give himself to her as fully as she’d given of herself years ago. If he used the time wisely, he may discover if something remained from the ashes of the relationship.
Hell, Phoenix rose from the debris. Maybe so could they.
Except she deliberately wrote that review with one intention: to destroy him, and Mia Casa.
The primitive in him roared at the injustice of her act the same time he ached to bury himself between her thighs. He was betting he’d be able to convince her to write the second review, but at what cost? If he had to end up choosing between his family’s legacy and the lost love of his life, what decision would he make?
The questions whirled in his head and made his temples pound.
Andy and Elaine were due home soon, and his gut told him to disappear. Emotions ran deep this evening, and when Miranda woke, she’d be forced to deal with them. He needed to give her the time and space. Maybe he’d have a plan put together to get everything he wanted.
Two days. He’d wait two days, and then he’d call her.
Gavin checked on the sleeping toddler, washed up, and left.
…
Miranda juggled two grocery bags and kicked the door shut behind her. She dumped the bags and wrinkled her nose. Huh. Her apartment smelled quite…fragrant.
Oh, crap.
She widened her eyes at the sight of dozens of roses. Scattered on tables, glass countertops, even her bookcase. Brilliant colors blended together in a dazzling array, making her blink to test the reality of the image.
Damn. Gavin Luciano struck again.
Miranda grumbled under her breath and stomped to the refrigerator. The man didn’t know when to stop. After the night they spent at Andy’s, she woke to find him gone. Asshole. He had that move down like an expert. It was just like him to
“It was never just sex. I loved you.”
…
Gavin stared into the dancing flames and whispered the words to the woman beside him. “It was never just sex. I loved you.” He gave a soft laugh. “I convinced myself it was only an affair, but every time I held you in my arms, I felt whole. No other woman has been able to make me feel complete. I don’t think any other woman ever will.”
He waited for her response, but only the sounds of snapping logs broke the silence. He dragged in a lungful of air and decided to turn around. Maybe if he looked into her eyes when he said the words, she’d finally believe him. Maybe he’s see a gleam of surrender and know there was a chance. Maybe—
He gazed into her face.
She was asleep.
He blinked. No fucking way. His big confession caused the woman to fall into slumber.
Gavin half groaned at the irony. Why was he surprised? Even sleeping, the woman drove him crazy. He ran a finger down her cheek. Warm, satiny skin. Her strawberries and cream scent drifted around him and caused an instant erection. He shifted as the primitive need to plunge between her thighs took fierce hold. God, he wanted her. Wanted to taste every inch of her skin, bring those animal sounds of pleasure to her lips, and bury himself deep inside her tight, clinging heat.
He’d never been able to keep his hands off her. He’d never had a problem controlling his lust before, or even the basic need to hear her voice and touch her. But nothing could happen until he regained one basic block of foundation.
Trust.
He needed to get his lady to trust him again, and that required keeping his hands off her. At least, for a while. Two weeks. Maybe one.
Ah, hell, he’d barely last another twenty-four hours.
The inner voice mocked his thoughts.
What will happen when your time is up?
He dragged in a breath. He never intended on staying. He had commitments to a company who’d given him a chance to make his dreams come true. Yet, the woman who’d haunted his memories and dreams was here in New York. And lately, he felt more comfortable wearing a waiter’s uniform than a Prada suit.
It was as if a fork in the road opened before him. He ached to claim her again. Give himself to her as fully as she’d given of herself years ago. If he used the time wisely, he may discover if something remained from the ashes of the relationship.
Hell, Phoenix rose from the debris. Maybe so could they.
Except she deliberately wrote that review with one intention: to destroy him, and Mia Casa.
The primitive in him roared at the injustice of her act the same time he ached to bury himself between her thighs. He was betting he’d be able to convince her to write the second review, but at what cost? If he had to end up choosing between his family’s legacy and the lost love of his life, what decision would he make?
The questions whirled in his head and made his temples pound.
Andy and Elaine were due home soon, and his gut told him to disappear. Emotions ran deep this evening, and when Miranda woke, she’d be forced to deal with them. He needed to give her the time and space. Maybe he’d have a plan put together to get everything he wanted.
Two days. He’d wait two days, and then he’d call her.
Gavin checked on the sleeping toddler, washed up, and left.
…
Miranda juggled two grocery bags and kicked the door shut behind her. She dumped the bags and wrinkled her nose. Huh. Her apartment smelled quite…fragrant.
Oh, crap.
She widened her eyes at the sight of dozens of roses. Scattered on tables, glass countertops, even her bookcase. Brilliant colors blended together in a dazzling array, making her blink to test the reality of the image.
Damn. Gavin Luciano struck again.
Miranda grumbled under her breath and stomped to the refrigerator. The man didn’t know when to stop. After the night they spent at Andy’s, she woke to find him gone. Asshole. He had that move down like an expert. It was just like him to
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