The Mane Squeeze (26 page)

Lock let out a breath and wondered how Gwen could manage to cause so much trouble without really trying.

“A
ren’t you a little interested in finding out how much—”

“No.”

Lock got out of the SUV and slammed the door shut behind him. Gwen followed after him, trying to keep up as his long legs quickly took him across the parking garage interior.

“I didn’t break my promise, ya know?”

“I know.”

He slammed his hand against the elevator button and Gwen flinched, certain he was going to shove the entire wall back.

“Then I don’t see why you’re so ticked off.”

“I don’t like being embarrassed. Okay?”

“Then you shouldn’t be hanging around me.” Gwen blinked. “Wait. That came out wrong.”

“I’m bettin’ it didn’t.”

Gwen’s mouth dropped open, shocked at the insult. And a little hurt.

“Fine,” she finally said as the elevator doors creaked open. “I’ll go back to the hotel then. I don’t need this shit.” She turned away from him, figuring she could take the stairs back to the street. But Lock caught hold of her denim jacket and hauled her into the elevator. It wasn’t even a struggle for him. He simply caught hold of her and yanked her in like she was a bag of dirty laundry.

Christ! What was she thinking getting involved with a guy this strong? He seemed nice enough, but what if he wasn’t? What if the whole shy, sweet bear thing was a sham and he was a dangerously unstable man-eater? Then what would she do?

The doors opened on the first floor and Gwen tried to walk out, but he put that Thor’s Hammer he called an arm in front of her and pushed her back.

“If you’re so mad at me, I don’t know why you’d want me around.”

He didn’t answer her but pushed her out of the elevator when they got to the second floor. He walked behind her until they reached his apartment, his arm reaching around her to unlock the door, and he didn’t move until she went inside. She walked away from him and into his living room.

Lock came in behind her and she gaped at the way he filled that large entryway.

“Look, I’m not mad at you,” he said.

He wasn’t? Holy shit! What about when he was? He would be eventually and then what? He’d snap her neck like a deer’s? Crush her tiny, insignificant head with his bare hands?

“You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m—” Snarling a little, he tore off his jacket and threw it at the couch. “I’m not used to people talking about my work. Looking at it. Knowing it’s mine.”

“Because you never told them.”

“Because they’d talk about it!”

Oh, boy.

“They love your work.”

“They were probably being nice. But now that I’m gone and they can really analyze it—”

Clearly he needed to face the harsh reality of his current situation, and Gwen was the kind of woman who’d give it to him. Besides, she was pretty sure she could make it to the window and out it before he ever got close to her.

“I got you five for the chairs. One chair for May and another for the Russian nutbag.”

He blinked in surprise. “Five? Really?” He gave a small smile. “Wow. That’s…that’s really nice. That’s a thousand bucks. That’s—”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s ten thousand.”

Lock’s entire body went rigid. “It’s…”

“Ten thousand. Five grand apiece. And they’ve recently purchased the last building on their block, so the entire block is pretty much their territory. Anyway, they’ve already gutted part of it. Most will be more bedrooms, but they’ve started on a library for all their books. They had a guy who was going to design it for them, but they’re firing him and hiring you. We’re talking thousands of books that they have. I told them for that many shelves we’re looking at at least six figures for the design and the building. They said that was fine and they want cherry-wood or something equally dark and smooth.”

Lock shook his head, took a step back, quickly gripping the archway with his hand to keep from falling back. Gwen was at his side in seconds, her arm around his waist and her free hand gripping his forearm.

“Can’t breathe,” he said. “Not breathing.”

“It’s okay. It’s a panic attack. Blayne gets ’em all the time.” She tugged him toward the couch and sat him down. She pressed his back down so his head was between his knees. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.”

He raised his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I do.” She pressed him back down. Pulling off her jacket, she got on the couch behind him and pressed her chest against his back. She kneaded his neck with her fingers and kept him down with her weight. “This is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?” Because no one could do all that he had merely for a hobby. No way. “To create stuff with your hands, to make money from it. And now it’s going to happen.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why? What’s holding you back?”
Other than himself
.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen now. I was supposed to do the software thing for the next few years until I saved up enough money to retire. Like when I was forty-five or fifty. And then I was going to move out of New York and maybe up to New Hampshire or Massachusetts, where I’d work on my stuff fulltime and at my discretion. No demands, no risks.”

“Well, life has decided to speed up that little vision. And everything is a risk.”

“But I had it all planned out.” He looked at her over his shoulder, an out-of-control fear in those big brown eyes. “It’s on paper.”

No wonder people were fooled into thinking bears were these adorable, cuddly toys they could give food to and risk getting close to—because they were so damn cute!

“Yeah. I get it. I was there.” She moved off his back and rested on her knees by his side, her arm around his shoulders. “I figured I’d be working for other guys and my Uncle Cally until I was about forty and then, if all went well and I’d built up a good enough name, I’d be able to open my own business. It was my goal, and it was miles off. And then here comes Blayne, tossing the opportunity of a lifetime into my lap. And I almost walked away from it. Because it meant leaving Philly and Ma and my family. Then it hit me…I couldn’t walk away. This was the right time for me, even if I didn’t want it to be. I’m not mated, no cubs, no mortgage. Nothing holding me back except my need to protect my mother from herself. I knew I had to take the chance. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.”

“Is that why your brother is riding you so hard? About this?”

Gwen blew out a breath. “Mitch has never taken me seriously. Not ever. So in his mind this is something cute and sweet between me and Blayne, but I need to get serious and go back to Philly and Ma. Until I do, he won’t be happy.”

“Well, you’re not going back now.” Lock sat up and she was glad to see some color had returned to his face, and that it wasn’t the beet red it sometimes got when he was thoroughly embarrassed.

“I’m not?”

“If you go back, who’s going to haggle for me?” He relaxed back into the couch and gazed up at the ceiling. “And we’re not charging them five grand each for two rocking chairs.”

“Rocking chairs created entirely by hand by the eminent local artist Lachlan MacRyrie.” His gaze shot over to hers and Gwen didn’t even flinch. “In three years’ time those chairs will be worth four times as much. They’re getting in early and should be damn glad they’re getting the chairs that cheap.”

“Not five.”

“Fine then. Four.”

“Gwen—”

“I’ll go as low as three, but that’s it. And if that Russian gives you a ton of crap she wants you to do, it goes back to five.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m not arguing this with you. And you’re going to let me handle the library estimates or that little wild dog will walk all over you.”

Lock snorted. “Sabina?”

“I’m talking about Jess and her weepy eyes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You carried her around their house.”

“It’s not like I
wanted
to, but I’m the only one who can get her up high enough so she can do her queenly wave.”

Gwen gave Lock a sidelong glance, amazed she was becoming jealous over a pregnant, happily married wild dog. “That’s pathetic.”

Lock’s heart began to slow down and he felt the panic pass. He hadn’t felt panic like that since he’d walked into the middle of his first firefight. And even then, he didn’t really have the luxury of panic since he’d been way too busy trying not to die.

Yet all this would throw off his carefully timed plans. Should he take the risk and possibly lose all he’d built up so far, thereby setting his ultimate goal back several years? Or not take the risk and end up still doing work he barely tolerated well into his sixties because one excuse after another got in his way?

One thing he did know, he didn’t need the answer tonight. He’d think about it tomorrow.

Gwen checked her watch and winced. “I should get back to the hotel. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I better not.”

Lock grabbed her hand even though she hadn’t moved away. “Don’t go. Stay.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes or even fresh panties, and I can’t go to work without them. I just can’t.”

Tugging her closer, Lock admitted, “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay with me tonight. I want to wake up with you next to me. If I remember correctly, that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do.”

“Not all the time.”

“We’re still in the honeymoon stage. Indulge me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I promise we won’t stay up late.” He could tell she was weakening, barely putting up a fight. “And I’ll get you up early tomorrow so you can get changed before work.”

He pulled her onto his lap, close to his chest with her knees on either side of his hips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her chest. “Stay with me, Gwenie.” He moved his lips across her collarbone. “Stay with me tonight.”

Her arms slid around his neck, her hands buried deep into his hair. “I’ve got you so figured out,” she said, her voice soft.

“Me?”

“Yeah. You.” She pulled back a bit and peered into his face. “You call me Gwenie when you want something and Mr. Mittens when you’re trying to tick me off.”

Slipping his hands under her sweatshirt, he lifted it up and off. He nuzzled her bra and then used his mouth to undo the clasp holding the pieces of gray cotton together. “What can I say? I’m busted.”

Gwen shuddered, smiled. “I knew it.”

Lock used his nose to brush the bra cup off her breast and used his lips to tease her nipple. Her hands moved back into his hair and she pulled him closer against her. He suckled her and Gwen’s hips moved against him, soft whimpering sounds turning harsh as he toyed with her. Taking hold of her hands, he pulled them from his hair and to her sides. He then took hold of her bra straps and pushed them off her shoulders, down her arms. She moved her hands behind her and that’s where, instead of removing Gwen’s bra, Lock used it to bind her wrists behind her.

She made a faint choking sound in her throat and arched her back, giving him complete access to her body. He took it, using his hands to roam every part of her chest, back, sides, and face while he let his mouth give her as much pleasure as she could handle. Gwen continued to rock into him, her moans and whimpers slowly turning into cries. He could do this all day if she let him, for days at a time. There was something about giving her pleasure that he couldn’t get enough of. He craved it like he craved honey and salmon.

As he slid his hands behind her back, his fingers trailing up and down her spine, Gwen’s body began to shake, her thighs gripping him tighter and her head thrown back.

“God…Lock…Christ…”

With one hand braced against her back and the other gently pulling and twisting one nipple while he did the same to the other with his lips, he felt Gwen’s orgasm as her body desperately moved against him, heard it as she cried out his name.

As the last of it slammed through her system, she sat up abruptly, both her hands free. He had a bad feeling about what happened to her bra. She gripped his jaw and kissed him with so much passion he knew he was only falling faster now. So fast he wouldn’t be able to stop if she changed her mind.

Then, with her forehead braced against his and her sweet breath pelting against his mouth, she was tearing at his jeans.

“I need to fuck you so bad.”

He wouldn’t deny her even if he could. He raised his hips and she slid back enough to pull his jeans down far enough to release his cock. It was brutally hard and ready. So was he. While she struggled with her cargo pants, he pulled the condom out of his back pocket. He’d only just slipped it on when Gwen straddled his waist and dropped down on him.

Lock’s eyes briefly closed as the heat of her pussy nearly seared him, the wetness only making him want her more. He’d gotten her like this, nothing else meant more to him than that.

Her arms went around his neck and she growled with absolutely no pity, “My God, Jersey, I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”