Page 82 of A Shot at Love
He wasn’t stupid. He knew the look Gemma had given him when he’d come in to the kitchen a while ago had been at best wary, at worst, remorseful for what they’d shared during the night. The thought she might be uncertain about how he felt in the light of day never entered his head until she’d bitten down on her lips and asked, “Are you?”
In that moment he added another descriptor to his growing dictionary of terms to associate with her: insecure. Not a word he’d ever think belonged to her.
Gemma Laine was a woman with impenetrable walls and enough trust issues to fill a psychiatrist’s couch for years. Her own brother-in-law had affirmed her problems with trust at the hospital. Until she’d shown up in his bedroom, he’d thought she didn’t like him and only tolerated him because she was forced to. The kiss aside, and it had been one hell of an unexpected response from her, Ky truly felt she’d rather be anywhere but in his company.
By some amazing twist of good fortune, though, she’d admitted to actually wanting him. He didn’t think it was simply because she was feeling a sexual itch and he was available, either. Gemma didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d easily give herself to a man to satisfy a basic need.
It had taken every ounce of self-respect, will, and internal fortitude he could muster to not toss her on the bed after she’d licked him—licked him!—and have at her without any further preamble. No, he’d called on all the gods he could name to slow him down, try to calm the raging lust driving through him, and bring her as much release and pleasure as he could.
It had been so worth it, too.
But he shouldn’t feel jealousy. In truth, she wasn’t his to be jealous over, but he had a hard time convincing himself of that.
“I’m surprised you’ve been able to go this many days without any,” Rick said as both men watched her fill a glass with ice from the freezer and then pour the diet soda she loved all the way to the top. When it threatened to spill over, Gemma grabbed up the glass and slurped at the overflowing liquid.
“Very classy, Cleo.” Rick smirked.
“Bite me.” She gave him a sweet smile that didn’t touch her eyes and then chugged a good, long draught.
Rick laughed out loud and shook his head. “Not an option.”
She drank almost the entire thing in one, long pull. When she dropped the glass from her lips, the look on her face reminded him of how she’d looked after coming apart in his hands the night before. Those self-same hands started to tremble with need when she threw back her head, closed her eyes and smacked at her lips.
“You look like you’ve just had the best sex of your life,” Rick said, giving a voice to Ky’s exact thoughts.
Gemma’s eyes sprang open, her expression wide and startled. Ky was dumbfounded when her cheeks turned candy-apple red, her pupils tuning to pinpoints.
Her eyes darted to him, her cheeks growing more heated.
Rick’s eyebrows slinked upward as he turned from Gemma to him, a question pounding in his glare.
Ky met his query, measure for measure, not backing down, not offering anything verbal. With as much nonchalance as he could call up, he lifted his coffee mug, sipped, and then placed the cup back down on the table, all the while holding the other man’s stare.
It was Rick who broke first. He lifted his plate to Gemma and asked, “Can I have some toast? Please?”
Gemma pulled out of her paralysis and dropped three pieces onto the plate.
Unlike with Ky, though, she didn’t offer the sugar. He should feel small for being so pleased by that gesture, but just couldn’t summon up any self-recrimination.
Gemma refilled her glass. She stole a glance at Ky, then said, “I’m going upstairs to work for a little while.”
“Stay off the Internet,” Rick said a heartbeat before Ky’s mouth formed the words. He was glad Rick beat him to it, because Gemma threw him a contemptuous glare and, with a hand on her hip, pursed her lips together and said to Rick, “I’m not a moron, you know,” before running up the stairs.
“I didn’t say you were,” Rick called after her just as the bedroom door slammed.
Alone now, the men regarded one another like young lions slinking around a new pride.
