Jennifer Probst - All the Way

“Don’t.”

“What I was really mad about is how I felt at the idea of you having a child with another man. I hated it.”

Numbness overtook the anger until she felt limp. Her voice was toneless when she finally answered. “What we had wasn’t real. It was just sex.”

He pushed away from the counter and crossed the room. “You’re wrong, Red. That’s what I wanted to believe. Hell, I wanted to believe it so bad I traveled a thousand miles across the globe to prove I didn’t love you. Nothing worked. I made my money, accomplished my goals, and tried to be happy without you.” He paused. “But I never was. When Pop called and asked for help, all I could think of was the idea of running into you again.”

“You expect me to believe you took three years to realize you love me? Why didn’t you fly home immediately after you came to this startling conclusion?”

“It wasn’t like that. We were at a crossroads, and I didn’t want to interfere with your own goals.”

“Very convenient.”

“It’s the truth. You were off to study at the culinary. I had just scored a partnership. I completely panicked and made the biggest mistake of my life.”

She snorted. “Yeah, so big you jet-set around the world, being miserable.”

He seemed to think over her statement, and a misty longing edged his voice. “Most of the time, yes. But I decided to take some time off and travel to India. Everything started to crystallize there.”

“You went to India?”

He nodded. “I was taught a different way of life. I learned I’d been trying to find myself on the outside, but I needed to find out who I was on the inside. I didn’t track you down because I thought it was too late.”

“Right.”

He groaned. “I have a feeling you don’t believe me, but I never expected this to be easy. I didn’t want to come barging into your life again, Red, when there was a good chance you’d already forgotten me. Gone on with your life.”

“I have, Gavin. That’s the whole point to this conversation. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop you from cornering me in the restaurant, or leaving after I asked you to go.”

“Because I knew it wasn’t over the moment you looked into my eyes.”

The tears were trapped deep inside, but she refused to let them surface. Instead, she faced him with a deep calm. “You’re too late.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He stepped in front of her and laid both palms flat against the wood, trapping her head in between them. She let out a soft whoosh as the air left her body—faced with his full power. His warm breath struck her lips, a delicious mixture of whiskey and mint.

Miranda realized he was still in control.

The gleam in his eyes reflected a knowledge he affected her in the most primitive way possible and intended to use it to his advantage. The spicy scent of him teased her senses. She decided the best way to play the scene was flippant. “Seems we’ve been here before, huh? Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. Simply charming.”

His lower lips quirked. “You always were a hellcat, Red. I never knew whether to strangle you or drag you to the nearest bed. The latter proved more pleasant.”

She smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t do a second review if you offered me a million dollars. I wouldn’t do a second review if I was sick, and dying, and you were the only man to help me. If you were the last man on Earth standing between me and a nuclear bomb blast I wouldn’t—”

“I get the message. You won’t do the review. Fine, I’ll change your mind later.” He ignored her outraged squeak and continued. “Time to take the first step, sweetheart. I’m going to prove your body hasn’t forgotten me, even if you want to deny your feelings.”

Her heart thundered and skipped like Derby day. “Arrogant, aren’t we? You were good, babe, but not good enough to span three years. I’ve had better.” Did her nose grow longer from her lie?

He lifted her chin up, forcing her to face him. Grim resolution shot from blue-gray depths. His body heat was almost tangible, tempting her to surrender and reach out to touch him. “Ouch. That’s gonna make me up my game. But I want more than your body. There’s been an empty ache in my gut from the day I walked away from you. I searched Godforsaken places to fill it and I never got close. Until now. I want another chance, Miranda. I want to know how you changed and who you are. I have eight weeks to prove myself again and I’m not wasting another second.”

He closed the inch of space between them by pressing solid muscles against her curves. His head lowered. Carved lips stopped inches from hers, and his breath rushed across her trembling mouth. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

The familiar command took her back. Nights of naked skin and sweat and orgasms. She gasped at his cruelty. “Damn you to hell.”

His hands slid down her body to link her fingers within his. “Already been there.”

His mouth stamped over hers.

I’m not going to respond. I’m not going to respond. I’m not going to—

The mantra pounded over and over as his lips skated gently across hers. She steeled herself for the invasion and vowed to fight, but it never came. As if he had all the time in the world to re-discover her taste and texture, his mouth skimmed…pressed…retreated…until an unconscious moan rose from her throat and her fingers tightened around him.

Never changing the force of his teasing kiss, he returned the pressure of her fingers, squeezing, then slowly unlacing as he broke contact of skin against skin. One thumb massaged the sensitive flesh of her palm, then stroked upward to press into her thudding pulse point. Her hand flexed, and every inch of her body jumped to life. Her nipples rose against the cotton of her shirt. Denim brushed against denim as he shifted his weight. His belt buckle scraped against her lower belly, and caused a rush of liquid heat to pound between her thighs. Her lips parted under the delicious persuasion of his, but still he held back, tracing the corners of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

She ached for an intense strength she could fight. Instead, he snared her with a delicate heat that promised her a world of sensation, as if he knew her body would always welcome him back.

She tilted her head and allowed him access, but he ignored her request. Suddenly she gazed into an ocean of heat, burning with a demand and hunger. “You have to say the words, Miranda.” The silky command raked across her ears. “Invite me in.”

Her hips arched upward. He was a real life vampire, seducing her to opening her window so he could bring her pleasure and steal her soul. “No.”

The game continued. His teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, then soothed with his tongue, always refusing to kiss her the way she needed. One foot nudged her legs apart so he could angle his hips more intimately against hers. The hard length of his erection settled between her thighs. His hands stroked each finger with a completeness that told her he would give as much attention to other parts of her body. Parts that ached for him. Drugged up with bliss, she moaned and reached for him.

“Is this what you want?” he murmured.

She shook with rage and passion and wanting. “I hate you.”

He buried his hands in her hair. “I know.”

“Yes.”

With a muttered curse, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue plundered the seam of her lips and re-staked his claim. The taste of him drove her mad for more as he explored and conquered every slick, satiny corner of her mouth. She gave him free access and met each thrust of his tongue with her own. Her breasts were crushed against the muscled wall of his chest. The gentle teasing turned into an inferno. His hips rocked against hers. She arched and demanded more.

“Let me touch you.”

She didn’t need to say the word. In a moment, her shirt was unbuttoned and parted. A deep-seated groan rumbled from his chest at her lack of a bra, and then his fingers stroked her swollen flesh.

“Gavin!”

“I know, baby, I know.” One thumb raked across the ruby crest and he lowered his lips to take her in his mouth. He bit and licked, pushing her closer into a seething pit of sensation.

“I’ve thought about you like this,” he whispered. “Every night climbing into bed I dreamed of touching you, hearing you cry out in pleasure.” He nibbled on her neck as his hands lifted her breasts and rubbed her nipples. “Let me show you how much I need you. Let me make love to you and you’ll see we belong together. You’re safe with me, sweetheart, I swear it.”

I love you, Gavin, I love you…

He’d left before, and he’d leave again. Was she so weak-willed and pathetic she’d allow him to repeat the same move three years later?

Her skin chilled as if steeped in ice water. Slowly, she reached out and pushed against his chest. He looked up.

“Nice try. But a good screw still won’t make me do a second review.”

“We were always better than a good screw and you know it. Don’t try to deny the connection we have.”

She twisted her lips. “Orgasms don’t make a connection, Gavin. I’ve moved beyond that now. Maybe it’s time to up your game.”

He jerked back. Torment shone briefly in those eyes, then disappeared. “God, what happened to you? How did you become so cold?”

She calmly buttoned her shirt. “I was taught by the best.”

He cursed and rubbed his forehead. “I deserved that, I guess.”

She didn’t answer, just leaned against the door and watched him.

“Do you know what karma is, Miranda?” He let out a humorless laugh. “In India they believe karma is the result of your past lives and actions. You re-connect with people who you’ve known before.”

He glanced over but she refused to answer.

“Karma is like destiny. When two people discover each other from past lives, they form a deep connection. Three years ago I was only willing to have an affair. I’d decided I wanted more from my life than to run the family business, settle down, and have children. I craved freedom, and I thought that came with money and power. Maybe before if I had stayed, I would’ve ended up hurting you in a different way. Because I wasn’t ready. Now I am.”

He reached out and pushed back a stray curl from her face. “I want a chance to show you the man I really am. I want a chance to make it up to you.”

Her lower lip trembled. The memory of those weeks after he left still bruised at a touch. The loneliness and fear. The knowledge she was alone and hadn’t been good enough. Was never good enough. “It’s too late.”

She waited for his final acceptance. His hand dropped away. He opened the door and paused. “You’re wrong. You’re going to welcome me back into your bed. You’re going to trust me again. Because it’s our karma.”

Then he left.

…

Gavin climbed into his black Mercedes, shut the door, and clasped his hands around the steering wheel. The leather seat creaked gently beneath his weight as he gazed out through the windshield.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe it was too late.

How would he ever convince her to forgive him?

How many times had he picked up the phone, aching to hear her voice? How many letters had he written but never mailed? He shook his head in disgust. Overwhelmed by the sights he encountered and the emotions bubbling up inside, he’d penned his feelings to her in every city over the damn country. Each time he stopped at the post office, ready to mail them, something held him back. As time passed, his decision became easier to keep the letters his secret. He knew written words couldn’t change things between them. So, he threw himself into his work and searched for his own answers.

When he got back into town, he tracked her down immediately. The memory of her strolling out of her office, laughing with Andy, punched him in the gut. They looked…close. Intimate in the way of friends, maybe more. He watched them walk down the street and realized he had no right to appear back in her life.

Until she showed up at Mia Casa.

Karma.

He needed to use this opportunity to right his past mistakes. Save the restaurant. Gain Miranda’s forgiveness. But one look twisted his motivations. He wanted more. Her body, her mind. Even her heart.

He had no right to demand any of it. He would have to go back to Europe within eight weeks. Unless he tossed it all and stayed. The first time he chose his career. Would she give him another chance to choose her? Could he give up everything he worked hard to build for the unknown?