The Matchmaker's Replacement - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,36

the stage and took two steps in my direction. I leaned forward, body on fire.

The minute she was within reaching distance, I jerked her onto my lap. Gabs let out a little moan as her skirt hiked up past her hips. My hands followed the material as she rocked against me.

I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t anything.

My response was primal, with this instinctual need to mark her, make her mine, and be the very first guy to do it.

The only guy to touch her.

Ever.

Heat surged between our bodies as I gripped her hips, moving her harder against me.

The song ended.

Another started.

I barely noticed. The entire bar could have burned down around us—probably was, because the explosiveness between our touches was enough to do that very thing.

“Gabs,” I moaned out her name when she started riding me harder. “That’s it,” I encouraged, officially stepping outside of my own body as she panted against me.

My mouth found hers. I couldn’t stop kissing her, tasting her.

And then a knock sounded on the door.

It wasn’t loud enough to do anything except irritate me.

But Gabs froze.

My grip on her was still tight, as though my hands were begging for her to stay, just . . . stay.

Her eyes opened.

She sucked in her swollen bottom lip and let out a rough exhale. My entire body was buzzing.

Neither of us said anything.

I didn’t know what the hell to say.

I just knew that I couldn’t be an ass.

I wanted to be. It was my MO. Be an ass, push her away, stay in the safe zone with Ian.

The knock got louder.

With a curse, I slowly peeled her off my body, made sure her legs were covered, got up from the couch looking all kinds of turned-on, and opened the door.

“Sorry.” The waitress looked apologetic. “The boss just wanted to know if you needed more champagne.”

I had told the asshat not to interrupt us.

But in that moment, I was thankful, because I sure as hell had been about five minutes from screwing my best friend’s “sister” in a strip club, on a red leather couch, in front of a stripper pole.

Holy hell, could I be any less human?

Any other girl . . . I wouldn’t think twice.

But it was Gabs.

I hung my head and croaked out, “Yeah, um, that would be great.” The waitress turned around, and I tapped the back of her shoulder and said, “A bottle of Jack would be nice as well, and maybe . . .” I was going to burn in hell. Alone. Fantastic. “Send in some more girls? I think Gabi needs to go home, and I’ve bought her for the rest of her shift so she’s free to go.”

The girl smirked. “I’m free.”

Yay.

“Great.” I forced a smile. “That’s . . . great.” It was so far from great, I wanted to puke.

When the waitress left, Gabs was already standing, arms crossed, face a mask of indifference as if I hadn’t just insulted everything that happened between us.

“So . . .” Gabs nodded. “I can leave?”

“Yeah, you’ve done your . . . job.” I don’t know why I said it. Maybe because it felt like she was dismissing me when really it was the exact opposite, when I was saving us both from an epic mistake.

“Hah!” Gabs let out a little laugh and leveled me with a cold stare. “But you clearly . . . didn’t do yours.”

“Using me for sex?” I tilted my head in amusement. “You know all you have to do is ask, Gabs . . . but maybe wait until money doesn’t exchange hands. Don’t want to start that career too early . . .”

Her cheeks reddened. “I hate you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, believe me.” I sneered.

She shoved past me just as three girls walked through the doorway. With a strangled curse, she pushed between them and left me alone with girls I didn’t even care about.

I went back to the couch and sat.

Numb.

Girls started dancing around me.

Shots were poured.

And I couldn’t give two shits about it. But I did what I always did, I tried to revert back into the guy I always was with girls. I flirted, I touched, I even kissed.

And felt like I was going to puke the whole time.

Because the only girl I wanted had just left.

Chapter Fourteen

Gabi

I was too angry to cry. What had I been thinking? I went over to my car and shoved my key in the ignition. It sputtered.

“Come on, baby.” I clenched my teeth and tried again.